D' Arc || The King

Chapter XVIII

"Mm, the sky is the color of bluebells, light, and dark at the same time. When the sun touches the horizon, it is like it catches fire. The sky lights up like your shining a flame through honey," Henry said as he watched Isabel braid her hair.

"No wonder why you look down on France's sunsets," Isabel exclaimed with a chuckle, "I wish I could go to England and see what you described."

"'Wish'? You can come," Henry said, a hint of confusion in his voice, making her smile. "It was a slip of the tongue. I wouldn't leave you and Arthur, but I also have a duty to my brother. He needs as many hands as possible," she argued, making Henry sigh.

"Isabel-" "Your Majesty," a knight said, walking briskly over to them. Isabel quickly adjusted her dress and made sure it wasn't revealing anything she didn't want that messenger to see. "What?" Henry snapped at him. "Pardon the intrusion, but your brothers wish to speak to you about our next target."

"Alright," he said with a sigh before shooting one last glance at Isabel as he stood and walked away. With that one look, she knew that they'd have this conversation again and again until they came to an understanding.

She sighed and turned away, placing a hand on her stomach, trying to find comfort in that. But instead, it only filled her with worry. Her child would be without a father if she chose to stay in France or it could be without a mother and Arthur would also be in the same predicament.

Isabel sat down near a fire and stared at it until a pattering of feet brought her attention away from the scarlet flames that licked at the air. "Mother! Mother!" Arthur cried, waving around a wreath of wildflowers.

"Look what I made," he said, presenting the crown of blossoms to his mother. "It is very beautiful," replied Isabel as a natural smile grew across her face. "Can I put it on you?" Arthur asked and she hesitated before nodding and ducking her head so her son could put it on her head.

"There!" Arthur declared, patting his mother's hair to flatten it before he stepped away and nodded confidently to himself, "Mother looks like a real lady from the leg...lejwnds?"

Isabel smiled and corrected him saying, "Leg-end." "Leg ands?" Arthur asked curiously, making her laugh and she held out her arms. "Come here, darling," she said and her son wasted no time in hugging her, careful to avoid her stomach.

"Why can't I get it right?" Arthur asked, his voice sad. "Don't cry, you will figure it out eventually," Isabel soothed, "You are still young and you are smart."

"Uncle Humphrey is reading me stories, so that helps," he said uncertainly. As long as they aren't lude and full of improper things, Isabel thought as she wrapped her arms around him. "Why can't Father teach me?" Arthur asked and Isabel sighed. "Because he is fighting a war," she reasoned and Arthur frowned. "Uncle Thomas, John, and Humphrey are fighting in a war too," he argued.

"They are not the king," said Isabel. "Then why am I not a prince?" Arthur asked curiously. "Because I am not married to your father and therefore you are not legally his son, you are a bastard."

Arthur looked at his mother's stomach and placed a small hand on it. "Will they be a bastard as well?" He questioned, his voice soft. "Yes they will be," she said, not feeling like it was right to lie about it.

"Enough about this, Arthur, let's go show me what you've learned," Isabel coaxed, standing up and Arthur scrambled up to his feet and he took her hand. "Come with me, Mama. I want to show you what I've drawn!" He said, suddenly every excited as he attempted to drag his mother towards the rows of tents.

"Slow down, Arthur, you'll trip," Isabel scolded with a laugh as her son dashed through the men, calling out, "Excuse me. Pardon! I'm sorry!" He led his mother to his own little cove that he had made in the back of the cart where he rode with his mother since he was a small child.