Isabeau had spent her lunch with William, rolling her eyes at various jokes that fell flat over some tea sandwiches. She felt bad for being more of some ice spikes instead of an ice wall. So she decided to tolerate him while she had food as a distraction.
She had begun to get accustomed to the palace life, with its odd quirks. They never really run on a schedule and many were allowed to wake and sleep whenever they pleased unless there was an urgent meeting. There was a consistent mini buffet in the castle’s second, smaller dining room. That could be used for breakfast and lunch since for supper they tried to get all the guests together for a meal, even Princess Emilia would show up. She never looked happy to be there and her hair shrouded her face as if she were a wraith, but she was still there.
If Isabeau were to hold grudges right now it’d be against her. William attempted at niceties, so much so that Isabeau would sometimes regret lashing out on him in those rare moments she let herself push a little past her shield. The Princess was like her father but a little different, they both surveyed her as they would prey however her father wanted a submissive daughter, the Princess only wanted her for her information. It was the same with most people, always wanting so much more of what Isabeau couldn’t, no wouldn’t give.
Before supper she had a couple of hours to meander around the castle. Today she was thinking of going to see the Lady of Mercia but she’d backed out of it when she put a little bit of reason into her actions. While she didn’t have many restrictions here, it would go against her personal duties she must always uphold. She’s not meant to even breathe of the politics the men discuss and she’s not meant to let anything in, even if it’s excitement from political banter.
Isabeau decided today she’d venture down the Southern Wing. It hadn’t been inherently restricted, it was just everything of personal importance lied in the other sections of the castle. She slept in the Western Wing, ate in the East (which was also where the library was), and walked in the courtyards. No one said she couldn’t go down here and it didn’t really hurt anyone, so Isabeau wanted to check it out.
She went from the courtyard where she’d just ate and was relaxing in, through the entry to the Grand Hall, and past the throne room to the Southern Wing. It was like the other wings, Isabeau thought as she pattered down the marble tiled hall. It was well lit by eccentric candles lining the wall in golden plates. The marble ceiling with its intricate carvings and swirls nearly entranced Isabeau. She was not one to be enamoured by beauty, but this castle proved everyday that it was like no other. The beauty flowed in and out the halls without restraint, Isabeau felt like she could breathe here.
After passing the grand doorway that was presumably the King and Queens quarters, and nodding to the guards, Isabeau thought that she was nearing the end. While the lights dimmed though the hall did not stop. Curiously, Isabeau slowly walked through the barely lit halls, watching the beauty decay as she ventured further. Something was telling her to stop, probably the dark corners and atmosphere of the unknown, but she was just so curious. It wasn’t restricted, who was she hurting?
Herself, apparently; Isabeau thought when she saw a dark figure begin to emerge from the shadows further down the hall. She froze for a moment, unsure of what to do or who that was or if she was in trouble, could she get in trouble? Then she turned and walked away as quickly as she could without running. It didn’t last her long since whoever it was caught up in a second, gripping her tightly on the shoulder. Isabeau shrieked as she was pushed up against the hard brick walls, slowly she looked up to see the person in front of her. As her eyes moved up she recognized that lanky build, the only person who would wear a corset and pants, and finally the scars that splayed across her face. The Princess looked… terrifying. Isabeau’s breaths were rapid, caught by adrenaline and taken with surprise. With not time to spare the princess pinned both of Isabeau’s hands on the wall whilst holding the side of her dress to the wall with one of her knees.
“I’ve had a rough day, but you’ve just made it a little better,” Princess Emilia breathed out through gritted teeth. Isabeau was almost convinced she was about to be sexually harassed.
The Princess looked the part, with her hair taut in a bun but frayed around her face, she also sported a bruise on her eye. Isabeau didn’t dare say a word, she knew of the Princesses wrath and hoped to invoke it no further.
“Quiet for someone who had sooo much to say earlier, aren’t we?” Isabeau still said nothing. “I have a few questions for you and if you don’t cooperate expect pain, understand?”
Isabeau nodded, she gulped as an attempt to calm herself down; but the sudden notice of a dagger in one of the Princesses cut and bruised hands made it hard to be anything but panicked. The Princess noticed Isabeau’s panic and put the dagger to her cheek. There was no smile on her face.
“I said, understand?” She pushed the dagger as close as she could without cutting Isabeau’s cheek, she wanted a verbal response.
“Yes, my Princess,” Isabeau attempted to keep the shakiness out of her voice but ultimately failed. The Princess seemed different today, her face exalted pure rage and nothing else.
“Good. What has the Lady of Mercia said to you?”
It wasn’t the question Isabeau was expecting. Why be interested in this? What does this have to do with whatever assignment this Princess seems to have? If she said yes would there be repercussions? But Isabeau didn’t have the time to answer, the Princess slid her dagger down beneath Isabeau’s neckline; inciting a small cut right above her breast. So Isabeau went with instincts.
“Nothing of importance,” Isabeau flinched as the Princess dug the dagger a little bit deeper, “she only wished to talk with me more.”
“Talk about what more?” The dagger moved to the other side of her chest, threatening to inflict that same cut.
“A poetry book she saw me reading,” Isabeau gasped out in fear, “she planned to read it with me.”
“Somehow, I don’t believe you.” A piercing glare settled on Princess Emilia's face, somehow Isabeau could see beneath it. It was the same as hers, except instead of apathy to conceal her pain the Princess used anger. Isabeau was… intrigued.
“We can’t believe anyone, it’s the thought process of anyone that lies everyday”
The Princess didn’t seem to take this comment well, seeing as Isabeau felt the searing pain of her dagger. “What do you mean, exactly?” Her comment cracked like a whip, making Isabeau flinch at the ferocity in her tone.
“You and I are the same, that’s how you can trust me,” Isabeau wasn’t sure of what she was saying but she let the words continue, “I know you’ve seen it too.”
Princess Emilia hadn't moved, her expression was cloudy and she stood searching Isabeau’s eyes. Isabeau somehow calmed her breathing and met the Princesses eyes, relentlessly not backing down. As if nothing had happened, the Princess pulled her dagger back into a pocket on her corset, dropping Isabeau’s other hand while dropping her knee. Isabeau stood still, too shocked to move. The Princess let a little bit of confusion show on her face before she went back to her rigid front.
“Say anything about what I’ve done here and I’ll have your entire family killed and dump their bodies into sewage.” She stared Isabeau down to make sure she understood. Isabeau wouldn’t really mind her father's death but having blood on her hands wouldn’t be too pretty, plus the Princess didn’t need to know that. She nodded slowly and watched the Princess go down the hall until she was out of sight.
Isabeau was too confused to do anything. Not only was she physically out of sort, with the cut on her chest bleeding into her fabric; but she was mentally in seven different places. Should she even attempt to meet with the Lady of Mercia at this point? And what was that? Who the hell is Princess Emilia? But most importantly, she was occupied with her reactions. The Princess reacted oddly when Isabeau called out her front, did she not know she was holding one up? Why’d she trust Isabeau so easily, or was she just too caught up in whatever that was to further her investigation? And what was she investigating?!
She didn’t understand anything. She’d done the bare minimum of existing and somehow invoked the wrath of a hundred warriors. Part of her said run while she can, the other said never talk to anyone else again and this’ll never happen again. But she would talk to the Lady of Mercia in the coming days. It would kill her not to understand what all this was or what the Lady really had up her sleeve, or what she did to also find herself under attack. There was no way they were suspected of being viking traitors, Princess Emilia would’ve taken more precautions with this attack since it would’ve invoked another viking attack. Was that what she wanted? Would that paint them as the traitors the Princess thought them to be? Either way the Princess was reckless, it seemed her actions held so many emotions behind them; a spy is calm and collected for a mission, not a fiery spirit of anger and vengeance.
So Isabeau would talk to the Lady of Mercia, but just not for small political theory. Maybe she would even try to find the Princess in crowded situations and force a civil conversation out of her. Isabeau didn’t know why but the Princess had gotten her attention tonight. Of Course she was scared, but maybe she could connect past that front and see if they really were the same. She didn’t know what she’d do with what she would find out, but she would look deeper nonetheless.
As of now her duties would not hold her back as they did. She was bound and restrained in many ways now and this newfound courage made no sense, but she would pursue. Her mother is rolling in her grave as she processes these thoughts but at this point, what does she have to lose?
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