Sample Chapter
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Chapter One: A Tomboy Princess
"Princess Isabelle! Sit up straight this instant!" came the sharp voice of the latter's mother. Isabelle sighed and sat up.
"Mother," she complained, "My back is so tired, and I am so weary of sitting here. I want to take a break!"
Isabelle's mother, Queen Lillith gasped in horrified astonishment. "My daughter, the princess of all the land of Corantha, soon to be queen, complaining about her way of life? Every peasant girl in this land wishes she could be what you are not happy about?"
Princess Isabelle winced. "The break?" she reminded her mother.
"No break! You had one ten minutes ago!" Isabelle's mother almost shouted. "Isabelle," she exclaimed, her strong, ladylike voice softening a little, "I don't know what I am going to do with you! You are too wiled and brave and adventurous to be a queen. I don't know what will happen to you if you do not shape up soon. Don't you want to be a queen?"
Isabelle stiffened. How could she tell her mother that she did not want to be a Queen, if her mother was putting her life's work into turning her headstrong daughter into a future queen?
Isabelle remembered Corantha's code of honor.
I will be fair, wise, kindhearted, truthful, honest and faithful to the castle, its people and peasants, and to God almighty.
Isabelle stood up and looked at her mother with flashing blue eyes. "I do not want to be a queen." she stated loudly.
Queen Lillith's mouth dropped open in astonishment as her steel gray eyes filled with tears. She turned away, walked to the giant wooden door in the wall, and exited the room.
Princess Isabelle turned back to her lesson, trying to recall what she was supposed to do to complete the arithmetic problems, but he young girl found that she couldn't remember what she was supposed to do to solve them.
Isabelle walked across the cold stone floor of her bedroom and to her wardrobe. Stepping into it, she pushed on a stone, which opened a secret door. Entering the dark passageway, she stopped before a pile of clothes. Picking up a plain peasant's outfit, she slipped out of her dress and into it, and set a dirty hat on her golden hair. Hurrying to the end of the tunnel, she peered out of a tiny peephole until all was clear.
Isabelle stepped out of the passageway and blinked at the castle's open gate, near where she stood. Stepping out into the harsh sunlight in the castle courtyard, Princess Isabelle winced at the brightness. A hand touched her arm and she jumped, turned around, and came face to face with a grinning red-haired boy.
"You're late, Your Highness!" he stated with a mocking bow in an exaggerated voice. "Fifteen minutes to be exact! Aren't ladies, (He rolled his eyes) supposed to be on time?"
Isabelle sighed dramatically and then laughed, giving the stout red-haired lad a playful shove. He stood up and gave her a frown.
"Just because I'm your silly little brother doesn't mean you have to push me away!" he whined in a teasing, hurt tone.
Isabelle giggled. "Let's go see the stables, little brother!"
"Actually, it's Peter," stated the boy next to Isabelle.
Isabelle turned to give Peter another playful shove, but the boy saw it coming and backed away, just in time. Unfortunately, he didn't look where he was going and bumped into one of his father's knights.
"And where may a fine Prince like you be going with such a lovely little lady!" the knight asked in a harsh booming voice.
Isabelle turned white beneath the fine powder on her face. Only a few trusted stable-boys and a handful of other persons in the castle knew who she was in her peasant clothes. Henry the knight that was standing next to them was not one of them.
Fortunately, Peter noticed the slight change in Isabelle's face. "Oh, just to the stables," he admitted truthfully. Henry smiled coldly, and sauntered off.
Isabelle's shoulders sagged in relief. "Thanks, Peter," she managed.
Peter's sunny grin became wider. "Anything for her Majesty!" he teased. Isabelle rolled her eyes before entering the wooden door of the stable.
The stable was one of Isabelle's favorite places to be. All of the King's royal horses, as well as Isabelle's own, were comfortably stabled beneath the castle walkway above. The large enclosure smelled sweetly of hay and leather.
Isabelle quickly walked over to a stall and opened the latch of a half-door. Inside was a magnificent black Friesian mare. She was standing patiently, gazing with kind eyes at the "peasant" girl that was entering her stall. A voice sounded behind Isabelle.
"I just got Phoenix brushed and ready for riding, Your Highness. I have her tack ready in my hands." He attempted a bow, but couldn't manage very well because of the weight he carried.
Walking to the horse, Isabelle stroked the faithful creature, as the stable-boy tacked her up. Ten short minutes later, the animal was ready.
Isabelle met Peter and his horse Ajax in the isle and the stable-boys led the two horses out into the middle of the castle. Peter quickly mounted his prancing stallion, but Isabelle had to wait for the stable boy to help her into the saddle. She snatched the reins from him, and quickly cantered towards the castle's main gate.
King Phillip, Peter and Isabelle's father, had a successful group of Friesian horses, and the only reason that Isabelle dared to ride hers out in the open, was because all Friesian horses look alike. All black, and with long mane and tail. Castle persons could not tell the difference between her horse, and any other Friesian. Isabelle could.
The gate's guard, Calhart halted them at the gate. " What is your business?" he boomed in a friendly manor.
"We are going on a ride in the woods," answered Peter in a strong, confident voice.
"Very well," the knight answered, motioning to an unseen knight who was in charge of raising and lowering the gate.
Isabelle and Peter cantered steadily over the bridge, and a few minutes later, they were entering the dark, lonely forest that stretched hundreds of miles on all sides.
Isabelle's mind was on the recent happenings of the castle, and didn't notice that her reins were way too short. THe powerful Friesian was acting up and tossing her head at the pressure. Peter noticed.
"Your reins are too short," he stated casually.
Isabelle didn't hear him. Peter repeated his message, a little louder. Isabelle jerked with a start, and stared at her brother.
"What's wrong?" he asked kindly.
Isabelle shrugged, "Nothing,"
Peter rolled his eyes. "I know you better then that," he stated. "What is it?"
A tear came into Isabelle's eye. "Peter, I don't want to be a Queen. I hate the long hours of practice and patience, and the lessons. I wish I were not a princess, and NEVER a queen."
Peter's playful green eyes grew solemn as he heard the grave words. "I knew you didn't like all the work, but I didn't know you felt so strongly about it! Any girl would love to be in your shoes! "You shouldn't take it for granted!"
Isabelle reined in, followed closely by Peter. "I just want to be alone right now. Please let me ride by myself a little. I will be back at the castle before long."
Peter hesitated, and then relented. He wheeled his horse around, and headed back in the direction of the castle.
"I'll see you later!" he called.
Isabelle brushed two stray tears from her face, and then pulled away her hand. It was dusted with the powder that her mother insisted she wear for her complexion. Wiping it on her shabby clothes, she urged on her eager steed into a breakneck gallop. Dodging around trees and skidding to a sliding stop at the edge of the creek, she dismounted carefully and stepped to the bank.
The water was shallow and clear. Isabelle could see tiny minnows swimming frantically to and fro. She dangled her hand in the water a moment, as the fish dashed off. Isabelle's spirits brightened. She could never stay mad for long out in the fresh air of the outdoors.
Isabelle sat by the creek for over an hour. She was just about to pick some beautiful purple flowers, growing along the back, when a warning snort from her mare roused her to her feet. The woods were still and silent. Too silent. Isabelle could sense danger, but didn't know in what direction it came. Phoenix was trembling now. Isabelle quickly mounted and turned back towards the distant castle. A large shadow appeared below Isabelle's horse. The usually brave mare was running for her life.
The shadow kept up with them until they were almost to the edge of the woods again, before it became smaller and disappeared. Isabelle didn't know what it was, and her adventurous spirit was greatly aroused. She would have to come back and check it out later!
At last, the castle was in sight. But a glance at the sun told her the awful news. She was late for dinner. Isabelle's mother would be furious! She was especially strict about being on time for meals.
Isabelle impatiently waited for the castle gate to open, then dashed inside, scattering several chickens that were hunting for bugs in the short cropped grass.
After dismounting and leaving the horse in the hands of a young stable-boy, Isabelle dashed inside the palace and quickly ran to her room. Changing back into the proper clothes that a royal princess was supposed to wear, she walked into the dining hall. The fancy room was strangely quiet. Isabelle closed the doors which sounded like a crack of thunder in the still room.
Everybody was staring at Isabelle. She blushed, and went to her accustomed seat next to her father. He frowned as she sat down. Isabelle looked down at her lap. She loved her father dearly, and couldn't bear to have him displeased at her. Glancing at her mother, Isabelle quickly took notice that her mother's cheeks were red with rage. She stood up and was about to speak. Isabelle winced and wished she could disappear. Lillith clenched her teeth in an effort to contain her anger.
Isabelle's father spoke. "You are late for dinner, Isabelle. What do you have to say for yourself?"
The young girl looked at him. "I was riding my horse, Phoenix." she said truthfully, forgetting all about the strange shadow that followed them home.
King Phillip motioned to the food. "Eat," he said sternly, but not unkindly. "After dinner, we will talk about more important matters."
Isabelle sunk down in her chair. Her usual hearty appetite was gone. She played with her food, unaware of her mother's steady, frightening gaze on her daughter's face.
Soon after dinner, Phillip motioned for Isabelle to accompany him to an adjoining room. Lillith stepped forward to join them, but Phillip told her to leave them alone. Isabelle's knees were knocking in fear, and her hands were sweaty.
Closing the door behind them, King Phillip turned to his daughter. "Your mother told me what you said to her this morning. I am ashamed of you. You should be grateful. Not many girls have ever seen a princess or queen, and fewer have been one. This is a privilege! You should not have spoken those words."
"But Father, how was I to answer, when any other reply would be a lie? Father, do you know what I go through each day? Everything I do is carefully watched. One little mistake, and I get shouted at! I was not made to be a princess! I cannot be one! I have no paitence. I can not become a Queen.
Isabelle spoke boldly, surprised that she did so!
Her father was frowning again. "Isabelle, you were born a future Queen, and a Queen you will become. There is no escaping it! Now, go to your room and don't come out until tomorrow morning. I will expect you to have a decent attitude, and no more complaints. Good night."
Isabelle nodded and hurried up to her room.
She was lying on her bed, picking at a stray thread, when a soft knock sounded at Isabelle's door.
The wooden structure opened a crack, and a tuff of red hair peaked through.
"Come in Peter."
The boy stepped through the door, and walked to the foot of Isabelle's bed.
"I'm sorry about what happened," he said in his boyish way.
Isabelle shrugged. "I know," she admitted. Then her eyes brightened. "Hey guess what?"
Peter's eyes looked mysteriously puzzled. "You've got that sparkle in your eye again. The sparkle you get when you're up to something!"
Isabelle patted the bed beside her, and as Peter sat down, she told him about the shadow she had seen. Peter was mesmerized. "You really think it was a dragon?"
"Maybe, I know we used to fight them! At least I learned THAT in my history scrolls. Mother would be pleased!"
"But Isabelle, you also know that we killed the last dragon, close to a hundred years ago. No sight or sound of them has been heard of ever since!" exclaimed Peter, rising and walking to the door. "I'd better go before I get in trouble for...talking with the banished!" he looked at her with a teasing grin.
Isabelle smiled. "Awww, go on!" she whined. "But I still think it was a dragon!"
With that, Peter left the room.
Did you enjoy that? To find out what happens next, you will have to read the book!
copyright 2014