A/N: Hello everyone! We are still on day one of the quarantine and a lot is happening! In this one, we are assembling the press. This chapter was going to be longer, but the next part I wanted to add is kinda long, so to avoid a monster chapter this chapter is short and the next chapter will be longer. Hope y'all enjoy!

Quarantine: Day 1 Part 3

Isabel Willow Green had planners for everything.

She had one for birthday parties. One for state dinners. One for casual get togethers. One for weekly Reports. One for international meetings.

There was a planner for everything except a quarantine.

She was going to lose her mind if she didn't get her hands on some markers and washi tape and organize the shit out of something soon. She had already started taking out her frustration on the furniture.

Isabel was half way through ripping down her bookshelves and reorganizing them by reverse-color order when someone knocked on her office door. Isabel wanted to tell whoever it was to go away so she could focus in peace and quiet...until she turned and saw the Queen standing in the doorway.

"Miss Green, I hope I'm not disturbing you," she said, the Swendish lilt to her voice lingering even after all these years.

Queen Deirdre seemed amused at the shocked expression on Isabel's face, or maybe it was because the office looked like a tornado ripped through it. It wasn't that Isabel was unaccustomed to interacting with the royals; on the contrary, Isabel worked with them on a near daily basis. It was that she didn't expect for her services to be used any time soon. What use was a party planner during a quarantine?

"Your Majesty," Isabel said as she dipped into a curtsey. "What can I do for you?"

Queen Deirdre took that as permission to enter Isabel's office. She still wore her ballgown from the night before, layers of navy silk trailing behind her as she approached Isabel's desk. The rest of her, however, looked more tired than glamorous. Her hair was not as neatly combed into her bun, errant blonde pieces curling on her forehead. Despite the lines around her pale lips and brown eyes that seemed to have appeared overnight, Queen Deirdre was still beautiful...and determined.

"I was wondering if you had a copy of the complete guest list from the ball last night."

"Of course." Isabel kept immaculate records. She knew exactly which file folder held the guest list, could recite at least half the names from memory based off the way she had grouped tables counter-clockwise across the ballroom by country. That, and Jonathan had already come by that morning to request a copy for his rooming project. "If you don't mind me asking, Your Majesty, why do you need it?"

"My husband is working himself into a frenzy trying to figure out the reason behind this attack. I thought perhaps I could help," Queen Deirdre replied, taking the list from Isabel's hands and laying each sheet out on top of her mahogany desk. "A look at the guest list might shed light on some unwanted company."

Isabel stiffened. Unwanted company. King Henry had talked about counter-intelligence during the meeting, but Isabel had brushed it off as paranoia. Everyone's nerves were frayed and everyone was stressed. But now the Queen was entertaining it as an actual possibility? That changed everything, and Isabel didn't think that she should be the one to hear it.

"Are you allowed to be talking about this with me?"

"I trust you." Queen Deirdre gave her a warm, maternal smile. The older woman had a way of putting everything at ease that Isabel had only ever felt around her own mother. "Besides, my role as queen is not to be a political voice, but emotional counsel. I would rather do some digging of my own and collect all the facts before I approach Henry with any ideas. He has enough to worry about as it is."

They stared at the list a little longer, hoping that something obvious would jump out or that Isabel somehow gained the power of premonition and had highlighted the name of the person responsible. Nothing like that happened. A tiny furrow creased the queen's brow, and she shuffled the papers back into a stack.

"Would you mind if I kept this?"

"Not at all." Isabel thanked her lucky stars she had the sense to get the list printed in triplicate. Now, there was only one copy left: hers.

Normally once royals had what they wanted, they left to do bigger and better things. But Queen Deirdre could never be considered normal in royal standards. She lingered longer at the edge of the desk, looking at Isabel with compassion.

"I meant to ask, how are you holding up?"

"I'm fine." Of course Isabel was fine. 'Fine' had been her response for the last few years, and it wasn't going to change anytime soon. "How are you holding up, Your Majesty?"

"Only time will tell. But in this moment I am...hopeful," she sighed, exhaling the negativity and breathing in positivity. "I know I have things much better than most. There are far worse fates than being locked in a palace with my family safe beside me."

Isabel smiled at the Queen. She wished she could have Queen Deirdre's unfailing optimism. It would make everything so much easier.

"Thank you for your help, Miss Green," Queen Deirdre said, making her exit.

Isabel said nothing as she watched the Queen go. She hadn't done much other than pass over a few papers, but it made Isabel's insides warm to know that she could still be useful even if there weren't any events to be organized.

Of course, because royals were royals, they entered and exited places as they pleased. Meaning that Queen Deirdre, for all her previous consideration of Isabel's feelings, had left her office door wide open. With all the extra people living in the palace, the foot traffic and resulting noise was amped up to a thousand.

As Isabel went to close the door, her mind already picturing exactly where each book would go in her new shelf configuration, her eye caught another passerby. This one, however, was decidedly not royal. He was decidedly pedestrian. And carrying a camera.

"Hey!" Isabel called after the offending cameraman. "You can't film in here."

There was a little huffing and puffing as Isabel was forced to lightly jog after the man who had either not heard her or was playing dumb. Guessing by the nature of the press, Isabel went with the latter. Up close, though, she almost forgot her anger. This man was...well, he was good looking that was for sure: dark olive skin, brown eyes, and black hair slicked back with enough length to be drawn up into a ponytail if he wanted. He was dressed sensibly in cargo pants, sneakers, and a dark tee shirt that clung just a little too tightly to the muscles in his arms. Neatly-groomed facial hair surrounded a smile that could charm the pants off of anyone. And now, that smile was focused on her.

"Sanjay Dhawan, Zuni News Network, great to meet you." He stuck out the hand that wasn't on his camera. His grip was firm without being too tight, and she could feel his calluses digging into her fingers, but it was surprisingly...nice. That just made Isabel want to rip her hand away and chastise this man for steamrolling over her. "And actually I was hired to be here, Miss..."

"Green. Isabel Willow Green, Palace Event Coordinator," she replied, full maiden name rolling off her tongue. She grew used to giving three names during her marriage. It felt wrong to say anything less than three names now that she was divorced.

Then, Isabel did take her hand back, if only to grab the press pass hanging from Sanjay's neck, verifying his identity. "All press passes expired at oh five hundred this morning, meaning any filming done afterward - which includes now - is considered unauthorized and liable to be pursed with legal action. So I will kindly ask you again to put the camera away."

"Oh come on," Sanjay sighed, dropping the camera from his shoulder to his side. "You can't be serious. My boss will have my ass if I come out of this empty-handed."

"Well suck it up buttercup, because I'm the one with the royal authority and you're the one breaking contract. What I say goes."

"Wait, wait, wait...did you just tell me to 'suck it up, buttercup?'" Sanjay let out a hefty laugh, eyes crinkling with tears gathered in the corners. "Sorry, it's just, you sound exactly like my daughter."

Isabel shrugged her shoulders. There was nothing wrong with that. "Sounds like a smart girl."

"She's eleven."

Isabel flushed pink in the cheeks at Sanjay's blunt delivery, but she refused to participate in whatever banter he thought would get her to cave. She continued to give him a look that was supposed to say something along the lines of 'do what I say, or else' but probably came out looking like 'please just follow the rules so I can go back to my office'.

"Fine, since I can't tape the royals, how about I tape you?" Sanjay lifted the camera and pointed it at Isabel this time, much to her abject horror. "So, what do you think about all this quarantine hoopla, Miss Isabel Willow Green?"

"I think you should put the damn camera away." Isabel reached out and palmed at the lens, hoping that she left some handprints behind to distort her figure. She hated being on camera. They never managed to shoot her at flattering angles, and while she wasn't particularly self-conscious, it had not been a particularly good day. The last thing she wanted was to have an image of her in yesterday's work clothes, hair half-done, and no make up on circulating around the country.

Not that there was much circulating of anything since the quarantine was announced.

"Having you here does remind me...I should probably start formulating a press release. Maybe get all the members of the media to sit in on a meeting, have the King make a public statement. Something we can live stream."

Sanjay let out a low whistle. "Isn't that a little bit above a party planner's pay grade?"

He had a point. Coordinating press releases usually went to other staffers in the media department. But if Queen Deirdre's testament to King Henry's fixation on finding unwanted company was true, Isabel was probably right in thinking that no one had even thought about addressing the media in any form. And it wasn't like there was a surplus of employees around with the desire to make it happen. Which left Isabel to pick up the slack. It wasn't overstepping to lend a hand...was it? Besides, the Queen herself just said that Isabel was trustworthy. She could totally do this.

"Not when nine tenths of the government aren't around to do it."

"Fair." Sanjay cast a glance down both sides of the hall. If Isabel didn't know better, she would say he was nervous, taking another half step closer. Maybe he was afraid she would harass him some more, which was a valid fear. "I could help you wrangle everyone up, if you want?"

"No, no I can do this myself." Isabel liked doing things herself. Doing things alone meant that no one could mess them up. Every time she asked for help, it ended up being more work because she had to do everyone else's part over to her satisfaction.

"You sure?" He asked, not looking like he believed her. "I mean, it's only been half a day and I'm already going out of my mind with boredom, so if you need help it's really no problem."

"Absolutely positively."

Sanjay looked disappointed, like he actually wanted to help her harass his fellow paparazzos into compliance.

"Well, if you're in the market for a cameraman for this 'public statement', you know where to find me."

Sanjay shouldered his camera and turned his ridiculous tight tee-shirt clad back to Isabel. He made it as far as half way down the hall before Isabel realized that she really could use his skill set and caved.

"Wait - " Isabel bit down on her tongue, already regretting calling Sanjay back. The only thing that kept her from shouting 'sike!' was the glowing look on his face, like the sun had broken through grey clouds. He must have really been hurting for something to do. "Do you know how to work anything bigger?"

She was talking about the camera. Of course, because all men were secretly children, his mind went elsewhere.

"How big we talking?" Sanjay asked, his eyebrows wagging suggestively. He stopped and ducked his head as soon as he realized he was going to get nothing from Isabel other than a deadpan. "Yeah, I can operate just about anything."

"Great." Isabel ripped a page out of her pocket planner and scribbled something down before shoving it into Sanjay's hand. "Wrangle as many members of the press as you can and meet me on the set of The Report in an hour. We have work to do."