The Forgotten Rose {COMPLETED}

Part I: Chapter Eight - The Lost Princess

"Isabelle." Anne exclaimed as she caught sight of her elder sister. She was different, she stood tall as always but her face was stern and unloving. She was not Isabelle Neville, not anymore.

"Sister." Isabelle forced a smile at the sight of her younger sister, she could not speak her name. She was a traitor now, her sister Anne Neville was a traitor. She had married without the kings permission and into the house of Lancaster. How could she do such a thing? She had shamed the Neville name, as had her father. She would not forgive Anne, she should have stayed loyal. She could have run away, refused Prince Edward.

Anne climbed down from her horse and curtsied Isabelle.

"Your Grace's." Anne said more politely as she saw her brother-in-law George come to the side of his wife. "I thank you for allowing me into your household. It is the kindest of offerings." Anne tried to look brave as her sister looked down on her with a frown. She used to look down on her in disgust, call her a baby, tell her she needed to grow up. Now she was grown up and Isabelle frowned even more sternly at her, hatred not like when they were girls. It was like Isabelle truly hated Anne's being.

"Yes, we are pleased to see you, Lady Anne. Now my wife, the Duchess, shall show you to your quarters." George told Anne boldly before turning away from her. "Good day, Lady Anne. I shall see you at dinner."

"Come, sister." Isabelle commanded Anne. Anne fell into place behind her elder sister. She was to be a lady now, she wasn't a princess. Once more Isabelle was greater than her, a royal Duchess and sister-in-law to the king of England. Anne would never be so high again, she had risen higher and fallen farther. She had her chance at the top, this was her time to fall as fortunes wheel rose in Isabelle's favour it fell in Anne's, perhaps it would always be that way.

Once inside Anne looked to her sister lovingly, but she could see Isabelle was lost to her. Warped into being George's loyal puppet. Just as their father had wished Isabelle was a loyal wife. He had always remarked about how Isabelle was loyal as a dog, a gossip and sometimes a fool, but loyal as they could come. Anne, he didn't tell her what he thought, he said she was clever but he was good with words. He could tell a tale of a land on a cloud and you would believe him because he had such a way with words, perhaps he thought her a baby since Isabelle always spoke his words. Isabelle had been her father's puppet now she was George's.

Anne could see that now. Her sister was loyal to George now, she had forgotten that she was a Neville. Anne was her sister but she was not proud of it. Her sister who was dowager Princess of Wales.

"You do not have to address me so Isabelle, we are sisters you can call me Anne."

"No, Lady Anne is your title. In my household we do not speak like peasantry, Lady Anne. You are Lady Anne and I am Lady Isabelle Neville, Duchess of Clarence; you shall call me your grace when addressing me." Isabel told her sister sternly. "Do you forget your manners? You are not a child." It was so elequent like someone during their time appart had sat Isabelle down and told her how to speak, no more baby 'child' was better. No sighing, no grumbling it was Isabelle without the Isabelle. Her insults were always half hearted, or so Anne had always presumed, always finished with a shrug or a sigh. There were none anymore. Like she was blank, only able to speak and do nothing more, no expression only speak the words George put in her mouth.

"I am sorry, your grace. It shall not happen again." Anne apologised to her sister, curtsying as low as she could. Almost like her sister was a queen. Perhaps she was, the queen of her own kingdom where George was her king and Coldharbour her castle. Her sister was as good as lost to her, Anne did not care of what she dreamt or desired anymore. 'But I am a princess,' were the words Anne wished to add but the look upon her sisters face stopped her from continuing.