Reine des Anglais

Nous ne sommes pas.

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"Does he regularly spend this amount of time praying?" Isabeau asked as she washed her hands off in the river beside Ragnar, who was cleaning his blade from helping her with the remaining wounded men.

"Sometimes." Ragnar responded, sheathing his sword before moving on to his dagger. "His highness' faith is extremely important to him."

"I don't doubt or question that, my faith is important to me as well." Isabeau sighed, drying her hands on the corner of her cloak. "But he seems to use it these days as another method of avoiding me completely."

"He doesn't intend to insult you by that." He stood up and offered her a hand.

"Intended or not, it is still an insult to me that he won't so much as touch me." She took it and stood up as well, brushing the dirt off her dress. "If I hadn't proved myself to the men, I guarantee they'd be making comments by now."

"Prince Canute will come around, just give it time." He assured her. "I've been talking with him about it privately. Just let him get used to you."

"I worry I won't have the time for that," Isabeau admitted softly. "I only suggested this marriage because I thought Sweyn would deny it outright- but I worry that the entire reason he kept the ceremony so private was so that he could deny it had ever happened. That he's doing this to try and embarrass my brother because Emma and the English princes are with him. Although, equally, it could be to attempt to pacify my brother into handing at least Prince Edmund over. A promise that he could once again be a sister to the Queen of England if he gives it to Canute." She sighed and shook her head. "Both options scare me, honestly."

"His highness wouldn't allow a vow made before God to just be tossed aside by his father like that," Ragnar assured her.

"He'd have to stand up for his father for that to be true." Isabeau looked up at the warrior. "Meaning I'm half a wife and half a whore until the King decides which to make me be. I won't lie and say I truly wanted either option- but I have power to use if I'm a Princess of Denmark."

"To use to see your son again?" Ragnar filled in for her.

"How did you-"

"Prince Canute informed me that you talk in your sleep sometimes- about someone named 'Frederick'." He told her with a sympathetic smile. "He thought after the first night it was a lover- but he said you have been calling out for your son and Frederick interchangeably, so we assumed that is his name."

"That is his name." She relaxed her shoulders. "He's in Luxembourg with my former mother-in-law. I want him back, but I need influence to do that. I don't care if I lose all my own titles in the process, or if I have to build a proxy government myself. I just want my son back."

"Once we win this war, we'll see what can be done for you and your son." Ragnar assured her.

Isabeau smiled as they continued walking.

Behind them, a commotion began. War cries mixed with the sounds of metal crashing and the horrid sounds of death.

"An invasion!" Ragnar gasped. "I'll go see what's happening, you go to Prince Canute and the priest and warn them."

Isabeau nodded and ran forward. She stumbled into the chapel tent, breathing heavily. "Husband," she knelt beside Canute and took hold of one of his arms gently. "We're being attacked- we need to go. Ragnar will be here soon-"

Canute just pushed hands off of him without a word or a glance in her direction, immediately returning to praying.

She pulled back in surprise. She had at least expected him to heed her warnings of danger. "My lord, this isn't a trick on my part. You can hear the battle being waged outside- we must go to avoid them killing you."