As she marched toward her dressing room, the crankiness began to melt into her signature brand of high-octane confidence. The Brat Princess was awake, and while she might have started the day with a scowl, Isabella was ready to reclaim her throne, one designer heel at a time.

"I am not doing it," she muttered to the empty room, her voice a low, melodic growl. "The universe can wait. My followers can wait. Even the espresso machine can wait."

"I'm still moving to a cave," she informed him, taking a restorative sip. "But I suppose I can do the photoshoot first. Only because the lighting in the cave might be suboptimal."