Who is Lottie?
Well… you might be right.
She’s not exactly real. But she’s very much alive.
Lottie is my imaginary friend. My little history bestie. My daydreaming doppelgänger and time-traveling alter ego. She’s the curious one tucked away in library corners and castle corridors. The one who falls in love with lost queens, forgotten footnotes, and the quiet power of dusty archives.
She’s the version of me who gets to chase stories for a living.
Who tours royal palaces with a notebook and a thousand questions.
Who touches centuries-old stone and wonders what it remembers.
Who hears whispers in the walls and secrets in the silences.
Lottie spends her days researching the scandals they tried to hide and reimagining the lives behind the portraits. She doesn’t just ask what happened — she asks how did it feel? What did she wear? What did she risk? What did she regret?
She is all curiosity and candlelight. Lace gloves and ink-stained fingers.
She is the ghost-hunter, the letter-writer, the tea-sipper with a tiara tucked in her bag—just in case.
Really, she’s who I want to be when I grow up.
The woman who walks boldly through history’s pages with her head held high, eyes wide open, and a sly smile that says:
“I know something you don’t.”
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