We know she returned.

We know her story circulated sufficiently that the queen of Navarre could include it in the Heptaméron.

We know that subsequent writers knew enough about her to include her name in their accounts.

Beyond that, the silence is near-total.

What was it like to return?

To walk again in the streets of a French city, to hear human voices around her, to sleep in a bed rather than on a stone floor with bear skins for warmth?

To eat regular meals, to have access to the social world of conversation and community and the rituals of daily life that she had been denied for years?