D' Arc || The King

Chapter XI

At first, it had been a light dusting, nothing more. Then a week later, it seemed that all of France was covered in a thick white blanket of snow and ice. Isabel relished in the crunch of snow under her shoes as her breath floated like mist around her.

As she entered the town, a small smile broke across her face. Although she was a stranger, Isabel felt at home in this bustling town. The sound of a blacksmith working and children laughing reached her ears and if she closed her eyes for a moment, she could imagine it was Orleans.

It had been four months since she had last seen her brother and her home. She wandered over to a stall and mused over the overpriced food. And it's been two months since-, she stopped that thought from finishing in her head and Isabel lifted her fingers to her cold lips, hiding a smile.

"Miss, are you alright?" A woman asked and Isabel looked up in surprise when she heard the familiar lilt of French. She smiled at the woman brightly. "Yes, of course. Why do you ask?" Isabel questioned, curiously.

"Well you always come into town to buy things, but then you leave and wander off. I just wanted to make sure you are safe," said the woman, and Isabel laughed and looked down at the vegetables that were lain out on the cart in front of her. "I assure you, that I am perfectly fine. I am well protected," she said and the woman leaned forward whispering in a conspiratorial tone, "I've heard that the English army led by that demon of a man is only a days ride away from here. You must be careful."

Isabel frowned. "I doubt anything bad could truly happen," she said and the woman shook her head. "Have you been living under a rock, girl? Haven't you heard what happened after the Battle of Agincourt?"

"I-" Isabel started, but the woman hissed, "Several thousand were killed! Prisoners of war except for those highborn ones! Besides, you are alone and many thieves wander the road at night and day."

Isabel stood dumbstruck, but covered it quickly by saying, "Yes, I remember now, my father died at their hands." The woman reached forward and patted her hands. "My condolences, Miss," she said and Isabel nodded. "Thank you," Isabel murmured as a little boy ran up to them.

"Mother," he cried. "What is it, Charles?" The woman said and he pointed in the direction of the snowy fields. "There's a snowstorm coming!" He yelped as the wind picked up. "Find your brothers and sister. Now," the woman commanded and Charles nodded, dashing off.

The woman turned to Isabel and gripped her wrist. "You should stay with us until the storm passes," she said and Isabel opened her mouth to protest, but the woman was already dragging her away.

"Excuse me, but I don't even know your name," Isabel said, digging her heels into the snow. "I am thankful for your kindness, but I can't trust someone I just met and there are people waiting for me," she finished bluntly and the woman sighed.

"Anne Sylvestre," the woman said after much contemplation. "Isabel d' Arc," she said after Anne had introduced herself.

"A pleasure. Now, come before you freeze to death," Anne commanded and Isabel let the woman pull her away.

They reached a small building where Isabel helped the woman herd the pigs and three very annoyed chickens into the home where it was the warmest. Anne stuck her head outside and let out a breath of relief when she saw four children running towards them. "Come in, come in," she said as Isabel stood near the wall as she watched the four children tumble inside.

Snow was dusted off and thin ratty blankets were tossed over shivering shoulders. The girl herded her siblings to the fire while the eldest boy turned his gaze on Isabel. "Who are you?" He questioned and Isabel raised a hand.