Heya guys!

New story here, and as it turns out, also my first story on Fanfiction :O... So I would really, really appreciate some feedback.

Some things that I really think will help you understand the story:

• This story is set in the past in another, separate world. The life and culture of that kingdom would be similar to the life and culture of the medieval era; however, that kingdom won't be England. England does not exist in that world, but Forks sure does ;)

•I know in the books Forks is meant to be a small town; however, in this FF, Forks is a huge Kingdom.

Also, since I'm a new author, please don't leave flames. Constructive criticism is always welcome though.

UPDATE: I have an AMAZING beta now keeper of logolepsy who the way has turned this chapter into something distinguishable now and I'm so thankful for her help, so guys just please bare with me if the quality of the other chapters isn't as good as the one of this one. We're gonna get it back on track!

And lastly, thank you all so much for taking time to look at this story. I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all Twilight characters. I'm just playing with them :)

If you prick us, do we not bleed?

If you tickle us, do we not laugh?

If you poison us, do we not die?

And if you wrong us, do we not revenge?

~William Shakespeare

Chapter 1

Forks

This day could not get any worse, Isabella thought. Not only was she stuck inside on such a glorious afternoon, but she was also with her favorite person.

"Keep your back straight," Jane curtly ordered as she circled Isabella in a patronising and almost degrading manner. The older woman with her neatly knotted hair and sharp, beady eyes looked at Isabella as if she, too, would rather be anywhere else but with her. Well, at least their feelings were mutual.

"And stop sighing. It is not proper," she scolded with a scowl marring her face.

Isabella had just about had enough. How dare Emmett make her go through these lessons when she could be outside under layers of heat and light, riding her beautiful white mare, Win. Instead, she was stuck in a dark, gloomy room with a nightmare of a governess, learning how to be a 'lady'.

Isabella snorted. She didn't possess a single bone in her body that could allow her behaviour to pass off as ladylike. However, she was in fact a lady and a highborn one at that. Being born to one of the wealthiest barons in Forks certainly had its perks, but those hadn't lasted very long.

Oh, the pain of being blue blooded! Isabella thought ironically. Her short seventeen years had been filled with nothing but sorrow and loneliness, and it didn't seem as if things were going to change at this rate. She shook off the depressing thoughts and was seconds away from excusing herself when she caught the other woman's eyes.

They were murderous. Her square jaw was tightly clenched, and her chubby hands were in fists by her sides. "Did you just snort?" Jane questioned with narrowed eyes.

Oh dear, she was going to get it now. It took Isabella all her restraints to not groan out loud. Lord have mercy! Fortunately, a knock on the door saved Isabella from an inevitably long lecture.

The door slowly opened to show the face of a young serving girl maybe a few years older than herself. The girl tentatively stepped inside the room. Instantly, her eyes darted towards Jane as she nervously spoke.

"My humblest a-a-apologies, my Lady... Mi'lord d-demands your p-presence in the dining hall immediately."

With a quick curtsy, the girl was out of the room before Isabella could ask any further questions.

She let out a sigh of relief. It seemed that her pleas had finally been heard. Isabella didn't wait for a response and was hot on the wench's heels before Jane could protest.

Isabella wondered why her brother had demanded her presence. Was something wrong, she thought as she descended the many stairs of her stone keep. Was someone hurt? Or worse...

Her mind started racing with endless possibilities of what could have happened. Her steps became quicker as her palms became slick with sweat.

Never had her brother, Lord Emmett Swan, the King's most trusted Baron, asked for her presence. She knew why, too. She was only a sister- a nuisance and a tool that Emmett would much rather get rid of than keep. After all, hadn't he said so himself? Hadn't he made it clear that Isabella was always going to be his inferior?

After losing countless battles of her will against his iron fists, Isabella had finally learnt the lesson that Emmett had been so bent on teaching; every time she walked away the loser, the one defeated-the one who walked away with a rainbow of bruises and a wounded pride.

Setting her thoughts aside, Isabella picked up her skirts and nearly ran towards the dining hall eager to make sure she did not keep Emmett waiting longer than his limited patience might allow. She felt both dread and nervousness at the same time. She wasn't quite sure which overruled her at that moment.

Isabella didn't allow herself to slow down until she reached her destination. Upon arrival, she pushed open the intricately carved oak doors of her magnificent dining hall and walked inside.

Her eyes instantly darted towards the rear end of the hall to where her brother was sitting at the head of their long, rectangular table that had been there for a far longer time than she could remember. Emmett still wore his sparkling silver armour that shone brightly enough to easily blind one if he or she stared too long. An equally sparkling goblet rested in one of his hands, no doubt filled with the village's best wine.

Isabella suddenly looked away, afraid that her staring might get her into trouble with the man who, most times, seemed to abhor her very existence. Unfortunately, Emmett chose that precise moment to lift his eyes away from his goblet, catching Isabella's in the process. It was as if the visual contact unlocked the door which had been her mouth. Everything rushed out at once.

"What's going on? Is-s someone hurt? Are we safe?" She blurted, the questions pouring out of her uncontrollably. Her eyes were wide and anxious whilst her heart drummed a quick patterned beat. "Where is everyone? Emmett? Where-" She was harshly interrupted before she could finish her question.

"It's my Lord to you, not Emmett. Where are your manners, Isabella?" Emmett barked, causing Isabella to instantly freeze. His voice was loud and strong. Cruel, too, but above all, his voice was simply Emmett. So very Emmett.

There was so much a person could tell from someone's tone. More so than one could tell from context or expressions. Isabella knew her brother wasn't questioning her-no matter what it may have seemed to others-but was in fact threatening her; and, she knew better than to disobey.

Although Emmett didn't wear an expression, she knew he was furious. He was always furious; it seemed to be his only state of mind around her. Had his two trusted companions, Sir William and Sir Duncan, not been standing on either side of him, Isabella was sure she would have both seen and felt her brother's fury physically. The two men had been alongside Emmett for as long as she could remember, and, she was always thankful for their presence. Lord knew how many times they had unconsciously saved her hide.

"Come here, Isabella. I have some news to discuss with you," Emmett commanded, his face contracting into an unattractive frown as if the mere idea of actually talking with his sister repulsed him.

Isabella moved along the length of the room towards her brother. The quiet pitter patter of her footsteps on the stone floor, echoing through the hall was the only sound that could be heard as she moved ever closer to the being for whom she held much hate. The old stone keep suddenly seemed jeeringly quiet as if the building itself were anticipating something.

Isabella came to a halt three meters away from where 'his majesty' sat. She kept her eyes obediently trained to the beautifully crafted rock beneath her feet, an action she loathed as she was sure it made her look vulnerable and weak- neither of which she prided herself to be.

A loud throaty cough from Emmett made her jerk her head in his direction. He glanced at Isabella and then at the chair situated directly in front of her, signalling for her to sit down. She pulled out the chair on his right and quickly abided his order, making sure to smooth out her skirts in the process. After a moment or two, she neatly folded her hands in her lap, lifting her eyes to stare directly at Emmett as she waited for him to speak.

He spoke, "Now, normally, Isabella, I would not concern you with the ongoing of the court or discuss critical political issues with you as I understand that you, and all other women alike, are unable to comprehend the complexity of such issues. However, in this case, I have no choice." As he let out an aggravated sigh of resignation, Isabella found herself wishing that it had been a sigh of pain.

Who is he to judge what I can and cannot understand? Isabella thought furiously.

Emmett, unaware of his sister's building temper, took a large gulp from his silver goblet. Then, without hesitation, he fixated her with his gaze and let her hear the unexpected, shocking news.

"Our king is dead."

So what do you guys think will happen next? Don't forget to drop a review!

Thank you so much for your time :)

-Emerale