Essentially my imagining if Queen Anne had born a daughter before Louis and Philippe, and if that daughter had warmed the heart of the unfeeling Fabien Marchal. I do not own Versailles, its characters or any other intellectual property of the show. I just let the characters run wild in my mind.

Chapter Four : A Prisoner No Longer

- - - 1656 - - -

"Your Highness, a letter for you… from Saint-Germain-en-Laye"

"Hmm… my mother, or my brother. Shall we make a wager?" Isobel lulled her head over the side of her chaise longue, reaching her hand out for the letter. "My money is on Philippe" she smiled sarcastically.

Isobel broke the royal seal and unfolded the paper. Her light grey eyes scanned the page quickly and then she brought the page to her lips, briefly inhaling the smell of the Chateau she once called home. "Colette, fetch my trunks. We're being escorted to Saint-Germain immediately."

"Highness?" Colette looked confused, and slightly worried.

"Do not fret my dear friend, my brother has called us home to join him at his new court. My mother is now and forever more the Queen Mother and no longer the regent to our beloved King. We will join Louis and Philippe and enjoy all the court life has to offer us." Isobel smiled jubilantly at her young lady-in-waiting. Colette nodded her head and left without another word to pack the traveling trunks.

Isobel sunk to the floor, her skirts billowing up around her, surrounding her in a cloud of embroidered silk. She kissed the letter once more, confirming the scent had no traces of her mother's familiar perfumes.

"Has no one ever taught you it is rude to stare Monsieur?" she quipped. Her head tilted to the side ever so slightly, and after a brief pause, she swirled in one fluent motion to a standing position. She was now facing the doorway that Colette had just exited through, a man filled the entire frame before her.

He was positive he hadn't made a sound as he approached her doorway. The young maid had failed to close the door as she left in a concentrated flurry. The Princess was smaller in frame than he had assumed she would be. Her mother the Queen, though still holding most of the beauty of her youth, had allowed the comforts of palace life to expand her once slight figure. Her slender form looked incredibly delicate amongst the waves of her gowns billowing around her on the floor.

When she stood and turned to face him he was momentarily struck by her height. He had once again made the assumption that she would be shorter, as her mother. Clearly her Highness had inherited her father's tall stature. He noted her regal posture. Everything about her was dignified and stately. Her gaze, though controlled, exuded great knowledge and power. She was born a Queen, and although she had dropped in rank since then, she had kept her birthright close to her. Her voice broke him from his thoughts.

"I pray my brother has sent more than just you to accompany us back to court. Word travels fast, we are not kept naïve of the reports of robberies along my dear brothers roads." Isobel flashed an icy smile, challenging the stranger to defend his King.

He met her ice with steel. "His Majesty sends an envoy Your Highness, you will be well safeguarded against any who should foolishly seek you harm" his voice remained completely monotonous.

She lifted an eyebrow, understanding that this man would not bend to her displays of authority.

Colette rushed back into the room through a small side door. "Highness, your things have been packed in the travelling trunks. Robért will close up the bigger rooms and tend the palace in your absence. All that is left is your personal things and we are ready to embark." She gave a small curtsey and headed back through the door she had entered from.

Isobel hadn't taken her eyes off the man standing in the doorway. She let her perfectly arched eyebrow drop into its natural place.

"I need only half an hour to prepare my things and change my clothes, I will meet you in the court yard." She swore she saw his lip twitch as if he was about to smile. Something flashed in his eyes, but he turned too quickly for her to figure out just what it was.

"You have a quarter of an hour," he drawled as he turned and strode down the hall, "we leave whether your royal hind is in its carriage or not Highness." He threw the last part over his shoulder carelessly.

Isobel knew his words were to be taken seriously, but that didn't stop her temper from flaring at his blatant mistreatment of her noble rank. 'You'll pay for your insolence Monsieur' she thought, satisfying her rage slightly.

"Colette" she called out, knowing her maid was on the other side of the door she had escaped through moments ago. Sure enough Colette reappeared instantly, giving a small curtsey. "I'll need you to help me dress, quickly." She stressed. She was finally being given a chance to join her family at court once again. She would not be missing her carriage over some corset strings.

'My brother will learn all to soon of how his errand boy speaks to a Princess of France. Until then, I must bend to his commands.'

Colette stripped her of her gowns and replaced them with hardier fabrics, more sturdy for travelling. It would be a two-day journey back to Chateau de Saint-Germain-en-Laye. The envoy no doubt made it here in much less time, but returning with trunks and a Princess would call for slower speeds and more frequent stopping. Isobel was sure this was a main factor of her escort's foul mood.