For PuckD77

Centuries later, she could still recall the day as if it had occurred only the day before.

Isabeau woke up with the feeling of the sun crawling over her body.

She would never take the sun for granted again.

The giggles of her son and his nursemaid were a sure sign that the day was off to a good start, and so she rolled gleefully out of bed.

It was good to be silly sometimes.

She listened to their muffled voices having a conversation about what his day was going to be like. It made her happy to know that Marie loved her son almost as much as she did.

"Edwin! Come here darling." She called for her son to join her on the floor.

"Your grace-" Marie went wide eyed at the princess laying on the floor.
"I'll get help!"

"Marie don't stress yourself, I didn't fall out of bed. I rolled out fashionably."

The two shared a look before giggling as Edwin embraced his mother.

"Good morrow sweet boy." She cooed before starting to tickle him everywhere.
"Are you ready for your first riding lesson?"

"Yes Maman." He replied in his baby-like voice.

It was going to be a good day, indeed.

After she made sure that Edwin was wearing his best clothes, Isabeau set out to to make herself as presentable as possible. Well, maybe a bit more pretty than just presentable.

She couldn't stop thinking about those hazel eyes and how they had glowed in the light of the setting sun.

Perhaps she would be able to garner his attention by way of her looks. As a Frankish woman, she knew that she was beautiful. She hoped it would be as easy as she thought it would be.

"You look pretty, your grace." Her eyes met with the nursemaid's in the tall mirror.

"Thank you." She smiled as she smoothed down the front of her velvet dress. It was one that her cousin had gifted her many years ago. It clung a little tighter onto her curves, now. But it was no less beautiful.

•

Perhaps it was something in the air, but Lucien had no troubles getting out of bed early that day.

He felt cheerful for the first time in years.

Lucien couldn't wait to see the princess today. It was a true miracle, for he would have her alone for a few hours. No interruptions. He looked upon the opportunity like a blessing.

He didn't care about the reason he was getting to spend time with her, it was just important that he did. He'd have a few hours of peace. Away from the De Martells and the Mikaelsons.

His feet led him out towards the stables where he watched the sunrise stretch across the green fields with lazy limbs. It felt good to feel it on his face. He didn't get out enough anymore.

Lucien closed his eyes for a while, taking in the sounds of of the morrow. The horses were starting to stir and the birds were busy making nests in the trees. Sounds of their wings fluttering brought a lazy smile to his face.

He took out one of the apples he had nicked from the kitchens and took a bit before heading inside the stable.

Sweet whispers filled his favorite mare's ears with the promise of an apple.

Aurora looked at him from behind the pillar and sighed in contentment. He really was a sweet man.

It had been all too easy to fall in love with him. It was strange, being in love with two men.
But she couldn't help it.

Lucien spotted a spec of fiery red and turned to see who it was.

"Louis, is that you?" He asked.

"I'm offended, Monsieur."

"My lady." He dipped down low in fright of meeting her brother here too.

"Will you not call me by my name?" She asked a little sad.

"It would be too inappropriate, my lady." Lucien refused to move his eyes away from the floor.

"Niklaus Mikaelson is taking me out riding today." She said quietly. All she wanted from him was a jealous reaction. Something to tell her that he was interested in her, too.

"I shall see to it that you have fine horses, my lady."

She left with a flurry of her skirts, upset that he had not paid her the attention her beauty was worth.

Lucien sighed with relief. He didn't need Tristan to breathe down his neck about this.

He would surely get in trouble over a lady.

However, it would be over a princess, and not a lady. He would march to the gallows a happy man if he could have princess Isabeau.

Alas, he knew he couldn't have her and so proffered to be alive and kicking for the time being.

He set to work on brushing the mare he had in mind for teaching the young boy how to ride. In truth, it would be a few years before he rode by himself, but these little lessons would teach him confidence.

Every stroke he gave the mare was an offering to Isabeau. A piece of himself he gave away.

He was so in thought that by the time he put away the brush that he hadn't noticed the sounds of people approaching.

"Maman!" The small boy pointed at the mare he had just finished brushing.

His small face was filled with awe and wonder, making Lucien chuckle.

"Your grace." He gave a quick bow to the little family.

"Ah, the young prince. At last I have the honor of meeting you." Lucien bowed to the blond boy, too.

It took Isabeau aback. No one had ever addressed him with such respect before, and certainly none had called him a prince. It was a heartwarming gesture that made her eyes prick slightly.

She smiled at him with a thankful look.

"I hear that you are almost three and have not yet rode a horse before."

"Yes, monsieur." He answered Lucien with that still-a-baby-voice that made the man melt.

"You are a very gracious prince." He said quietly with a smile."Never change."

Lucien offered his hands for them to take. If someone else saw this, there would surely be gossip.

The de Marques's took his hands gratefully as he lead them deeper into the stables.

"I've prepared a special mare for you, my prince." He looked down at the excited toddler.
"Her name is Cecily. She won't hurt you."

Lucien lifted the boy onto the gate, keeping a firm arm around him.

"Hold out your hand and she'll kiss it."

His eyes met with the princess' as he said it. It felt oddly intimate, but neither two minded it. Whatever they had between them was blossoming at an alarming rate.

Edwin watched as the mare approached his hand, giving it tiny horsey-kisses. The boy's laughter brought both adults back to the present.

"Are you ready to ride, your grace?" The boy nodded and Lucien placed him upon the horse, careful to still hold onto him.

Isabeau's heart filled with warmth. It in turn filled her head with dreams. Dangerous dreams. But enchanting non the less.

She wondered in her heart what it would be like if they perhaps ran away together. To live somewhere far away, hidden in the country side. Raising Edwin and some children of their own. Lucien was such a gentle man that it would make any woman daydream so.

He led them both outside, careful of Edwin and the mare. The grass swayed beneath their feet; dewdrops trickling down them.

"Where did you grow up?" Her voice was so soft he had barely heard her.

"A little ways from here. But I was too young to really remember it."

She said nothing.

"I heard that the lord Tristan wants to marry you. It's a great compliment, as he hasn't been interested in any other woman before. He would be an honorable husband."

Isabeau looked at him as if he had physically struck her.

"You wish me to be married off like some broodmare?" She felt like her bones were seething.

It reminded Lucien that she was a great-
granddaughter of Charlemagne the Great. Holy Roman Emperor and King of the Franks. She had a look on her face of righteous fury.

It also reminded him that he wasn't good enough for her.

"I believe he is a great match for you, your grace." He steeled himself against the hurt he felt in his heart at her marrying someone else.
"You couldn't ask for anyone better."

"If he is so damned great, why don't you marry him yourself?" She glared at him before taking her son off of the mare and disappearing down the pathway back to the castle.

Lucien stood there for a while with his eyes closed and his heart hammering away in his chest. The last image playing behind his eyes was the face of a sad blonde boy peering over his mother's shoulder.

Isabeau did not waver on her way back. Nor did she pay attention to her surroundings.

By the time she saw the servant lunge for her it was all too late. In no way was she able to scream. She saw the silver blade of the dagger and went numb.

"Close your eyes." She held her son to her chest, closing his eyes with her hands.

Isabeau stood there for a full minute in silence before dating to peek. She had heard the most awful bloodcurdling cries and the sounds of flesh being ripped apart.

Surely they had died a cruel death. She just thanked Jesus and the Saints that they did not feel the pain.

"Did you die, too?" She asked the man whom faced his back to her. He was covered in blood and gore.

"No, your grace. You're alive."

She never got a chance to see his face as he hastily made his exit from saving them.

His posture, however, spoke a thousand words.