Isabeau thought she was about to go insane. Throughout the journey they’d stopped at the city of Lixenburg to recoup and spent the night in York, but other than that it was straight away. The rest of the time in their carriage had been William attempting to raise conversation with Isabeau, who vowed to herself to be silent and not entertain him the entire journey. Her silence did not stop his endless chatter about this and that. The constant back and forth one sided conversations went from the food they were eating, to the pastures they passed, to how excited he was to see the castle again. She couldn’t be happier to be cascading down the long road that led to the palace, talkative people drove her crazy.
Now William had taken up discussing his previous experiences from the castle, which was the one time he went when he was 6. How he recalled so much is a question Isabeau couldn’t answer. While his ongoing chatter was extremely annoying, Isabeau found comfort in some of the details he shared that she could find similarities with. Like the fact that he was shoved into the role of heir when he couldn’t even understand why heir sounded so different from how it looked. She still was bitter over the fact that he took the power thrusted his way for granted, but it was irrefutable that what he had in power affected him the same way her lack of power affected her.
The carriage began to slow alongside Williams' words as he anxiously pressed against the tiny window on the door. Shortly after it stopped the coachman opened the door, revealing bright sunlight against the dark blue velvet inside of the carriage. William maneuvered out and then turned to assist Isabeau, which she declined by roughly rumbling her gown and hitting various parts of the carriage. He laughed at her stubbornness but stifled it when Isabeau cast him an icy glare.
Isabeau raised her head to admire the castle in its glory. Large brick walls with intricate stone work settled into four corners with large towers in each. It was grand but was a simple overlay once they ventured forth past the main drawbridge, following their parents. On either side of the path that went to the grand hall were vibrant gardens that, despite the growing chill, still looked as if they’d bloom the day before. Compared to the small brick manor she’s lived in for the past 10 years, this was something ancient, something built when the previous King held full power and control over his lands. There was no denying its beauty, by the looks of it, Isabeau thought, William couldn’t disagree. His head wobbled around in awe, going from the courtyard, to the paths, to the walls, and to the grand hall they entered.
It was even more magnificent in there with the gold engraved tiles, the large fully lit chandelier hanging overhead, and the almost maroon velvet rug that led from the latter end of the hall to the throne. She had never seen anything like it, in her years of squatting in random houses with her mother she never expected to see something this extravagant. Up ahead the Lord of Andres beckoned for them to fall in line as they approached the King and Queen in their thrones.
The king sat right where the carpet led, in the center of the room, his seat made of intricate gold carvings. Next to his sat the Queen in a significantly smaller chair that didn’t quite raise as high as his. The King wasn’t particularly old but his dark ruffled hair that had barely greyed made him all the much younger, alongside his deep eyes. If the King looked young then the Queen was barely of age. Her hair fell like silk, trailing down to her waist, and her slanted eyes gave her a cat-like aura. They were both adorned in the finest of clothes, Isabeau didn’t want to know how much those cost but the Queens gown, handwoven with a golden thread, clearly was a lot. Isabeau didn’t know them, but she didn’t have to to understand why they sat on those thrones; she felt… not scared but wary in their presence. She shut down the emotion entirely.
Isabeau’s father spoke up first, kneeling to the throne. “It is a pleasure to be at your service, your Royal Majesty.”
“Oh,” A smug look surfaced on the king’s face, “the pleasure is all mine, we shall discuss measures of providing Knights and other circumstances later, but now I do believe I have a future Lord in my presence.” The Lord of Andres smiled.
“Ah yes my son, William,” He motioned for William to step forward, which he did but very… awkwardly, “the heir to my legacy.”
“Pleasure to be at your service,” William said as he bowed.
To Isabeau’s surprise it was the Queen who spoke up next, “So very young, but what of your heir, Lord of Larson… do you intend for the lands to merge after your death?”
There was a sense of shock in the room, no one had ever really met the royals in the time of a crisis and were not expecting such odd behavior.
“Well your Royal Majesty, that is an ongoing debacle in my lands currently, but I assure you whoever controls Larson after my imminent death that they will fall in line behind the crown.”
The King and Queen seemed satisfied with the answer and quickly herded the group off with servants to the Western Wing where their temporary rooms would be. Their group obediently followed, Isabeau falling behind the Lords and Lady and next to William. William leaned into her ear and began whispering.
“My Lady.. did you see the princess.” Isabeau sent him a confused gaze, not realizing that the sole child of the crown wasn’t even presented at their welcome.
William continued, “I thought the same but, she was there, behind a pillar a little ways away from the throne.”
Despite her current silent treatment, Isabeau spoke, “This entire family is odd.”
William was surprised at her voice and looked as if he would continue poking her for response, so Isabeau sped up.
They soon reached the Western Wing and began sectioning off into their assigned rooms. Isabeau, thankfully, diverged into a single room. The room was scantily decorated, with a large bed pushed up against the wall and centered with the room, a dresser to fit her trunk of outfits, and a desk with a mirror where she could get ready for the day. There was also a side room attached to each bedroom that had a marble bathtub in the center and coat racks on the side, it seemed these rooms had been quickly converted into guest rooms considering the lack of running water. It also seemed that each guest had been assigned a personal servant for dressing or other needs, Isabeau’s had ushered her into her room and told her to seek out for Amy if she ever needed help; other than that she would come in the mornings to help her dress and at night to help her prepare for bed.
There really wasn’t much Isabeau was needed for here since her father would be wrapped up in political schemes and William would be too busy learning how to inherit Lordship. Maybe she could be a little selfish here, maybe she could peek around at some political aspects she’s not necessarily involved in. It’s not like she had a duty here like she did back at the manor, she wasn’t constantly under the hawkeye of her father and wasn’t needed as a trophy until mealtimes. She’d been given free reign, or as much as she’s felt in years. Isabeau wanted to shut it down, give herself a strict duty to follow; but here her duty was to walk around and exist.
The first place Isabeau set off to was the Eastern Wing, she’d been told there was a grand library there that put even high level architects to shame. It wasn’t that Isabeau was interested in this kind of thing, in fact she wasn’t quite sure about many of her interests besides her odd obsession with politics. She’d spent her younger years figuring out survival and her older ones figuring out survival, just in a different environment. Maybe she’d pick up a book about… her thoughts were cut off by the size of the library she entered. Hundreds of thousands of books littered bookshelves that were several feet high, some requiring huge ladders. It was gorgeous, littered with alcoves where Isabeau could find comfort in privacy, reading some random book about god knows what.
She hurriedly began scanning the shelves, reading the titles of books on their spines just to pick out whichever one looked the most interesting. After picking out a large red book that sat crookedly in the shelve, Isabeau settled into a chair on the far left side of the library, shielded by multiple bookshelves. Upon opening the book a small piece of paper fell out. Perplexed, Isabeau picked it up and unfolded the sheet to reveal writing from a quill that clearly didn’t have enough ink. It was notes on the book, Isabeau checked to see what she was really reading. The title on the front page read “Feudal Relations and Land Merging From the Period 1000CE-1400CE”. She looked back to the note sheet and noticed the book wasn’t even complete, it was the year 1378. While deciphering the poorly written notes Isabeau was able to conclude that this person knew… a lot. They detailed relations that this book hadn’t caught up to yet, there was even a section on Isabeau. It had her mother, her upbringing, her real father, her now father, and her relation with any and all other lands. Who knew this much about Isabeau? Where’d they find this out? Do the royals have records of every Lord and Lady in detail like this? What could she learn from this?
She wasn’t allowed to question further, a dark figure emerged from the bookshelves and started walking up to her. Isabeau didn’t even hear this-woman approach, she couldn’t even tell who she was until she came closer into the light that cast through the window behind her. If not for being the spitting image of her mother, Isabeau would’ve never known that the princess was the one coming up to her.
The princess stopped short of her and surveyed Isabeau, Isabeau sat up straight and tried her hardest to put on a docile face but her shock was too apparent. Undoubtedly though… The princess was beautiful. Her frame was long and frail yet what she did have was toned to show muscles. Behind the silky black hair that fell, covering the sides of her face, was a look as cold as ice; a look even Isabeau couldn’t try to fake.What stood out the most was the scars that littered her face. There was one on her eyebrow, one on her lower lip, and a jagged array of them on one of her cheeks. The princess cocked an eyebrow in irritation and Isabeau noticed she was not just staring, she was analyzing.
“Since when did Lords take up the trend of teaching their Ladies how to read.”
What? She was just as weird as rumoured as, Isabeau thought. “My father values education, in any human regardless of any factors. To what do I owe the pleasure, my princess.”
“Just curious to see so many of our new arrivals in the library.”
“It is a wonderful place.”
The princess looked colder now, bored. “Yes, the previous King commissioned a famous architect from far away fans, but you might already know that,” She cast a look down at the book in Isabeaus lap, “a fan of history are we? I wouldn’t expect a future Lady to be actually interested in such boring records.”
“I just picked up a nearby book without checking the title, I have no interest in such ‘boring records’,” Isabeau mocked the princesses exaggerated tone, which clearly got a reaction out of her since the princesses boredom turned into impatience.
“Nothing in there piques your interest…” The Princess was clearly talking about the note sheet, but Isabeau has played the emotionless game for a while and was a long ways away from giving her satisfaction.
“I barely got to start reading… it takes me a while to decipher the words since I didn’t learn to read until my teen years.” Isabeau hated giving away that partial truth but she needed the princess to believe that she didn’t read about herself yet. She didn’t know what the princesses' involvement in this was but she’d severely underestimated Isabeau’s intellect, the cockiness all went to her head.
“Sorry if I seem,” She took a breath, searching for the words but Isabeau knew she was trying to calm herself, since Isabeau has done the same thing many times before, “overbearing. It’s been tense recently in the castle you know… rumours of viking sympathizers.”
Isabeau felt the heavy stare and knew to feign shock, “I do find it odd that anyone would indulge in chaos… I wonder my princess, forgive me if I’m overstepping, why did you decide to approach me?”
“Ah, well I was sent to retrieve that book in your hands from a royal advisor… they said it held important records that are crucial in these anxious times.”
Isabeau closed the book that still laid in her lap, she stood and handed it to the princess. “Well that was all you needed to say,” Isabeau put on a smile, “here you are my princess, I must get going since supper is soon but do seek out for me if you were to need me again… I’m sure you already know but my room is at the end of the Western Wing.”
The princess towered over Isabeau in terms of height, she was at least 5 inches taller. Isabeau didn’t know exactly why she invited the princess to talk again but she had to seem friendly, especially since the princess seemed suspicious of her. It could have something to do with those private letters between her father and the Lord of Andres, were they suspected to be viking sympathizers?
Isabeau tried not to think anything of it, they were probably suspicious of any breathing creature in the castle currently. She continued to the library entrance but she still felt the princesses eyes glued to her back. It was hard to stifle her curiosity but Isabeau forced everything out, preparing to put on a cool front for supper with the Lords and Ladies.
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