Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise, I just use their creations to have my wicked way with them. No copyright infringement is intended.
Beta'ed by Jadsmama.
For some strange reason, FanFiction wouldn't let me reply to all of the reviews for the first chapter. If I couldn't thank you personally in the form of a review reply, please know that I really appreciate your words. The response to this story means the world to me.
~ Two ~
Isabella sighed as she stared out of the window. The day was still young but already it was proving to be as uneventful as the day before, though maybe a little less dreary since it seemed like the autumnal storms that had been plaguing the castle for days now had finally gone, leaving a watery sun behind.
"Perhaps the queen will let you go out today." Isabella turned to the sound her maid's voice. "It's no good for a young lady such as yourself to be cooped up like this all day. There's only so much embroidery a woman can complete before she reaches her breaking point."
"That's true!" Isabella chuckled, leaving her cozy window seat to help the older woman fold some linens. "And God knows I've already reached that point days ago."
The old woman smiled, playfully pinching her young ward's cheek as she spoke. "You were never one for needlework. I fear for your future husband's wellbeing with a wife so negligent!"
"Psah!" Isabella pouted. "It's not like I'd be lazy enough to let a man go out naked. I just do not see the need to add another fancy embroidered shift to my already excessive collection. Especially not when I know full well that no one apart from you or me is ever going to see them."
The maid, a townswoman of advanced age called Angela Weber, who'd been the lady Isabella's devoted servant from early childhood, smiled sadly at her ward's melancholy outburst. "Have faith Isabella," she muttered, discarding her washing to wrap the young lady into a firm, motherly embrace. "Your stepmother might yet change her mind."
Isabella smiled at the never-ending optimism of her companion even though she did not share it. "I fear that may be wishful thinking, dear nurse. The risk of my husband staging a revolution against her is too great for Victoria to ever allow it. No…." she sighed wistfully. "I've long ago resigned myself to spinsterhood." Or early death, she thought, though she knew better than to upset poor, gentle hearted Angela by uttering such a thought out loud.
Angela's heart broke for her beautiful young ward. An old woman now, she had at least known true, passionate love and the heartbreak that came from losing it, before she'd entered the late king's service, looking for a reputable way to pass the time remaining to her until she could join her dear departed husband in the afterlife. It didn't sit well with her that a girl as young, vibrant and beautiful as Isabella should be cooped up and wilting away, even if there was nothing she could do to stop it.
In fact, the only thing alleviation she was able to bring to their lives was her optimism and it was to that trait that she turned that moment. "I am sure the queen will allow you to ride out today, if the weather holds."
A small smile crept onto the lady Isabella's face as she looked out at the clear blue sky, her heart leaping at the happy prospect of some fresh air and exercise. "Perhaps." She longed to go out and breathe in the crisp, spicy air of the forests surrounding the castle. For days now she'd been locked within her tower, the bad weather barring her from riding out or even taking a walk in the walled garden.
It wasn't long before the sound of heavy footsteps trudging up the stairs answered the question on whether or not there was going to be any sport that day but as the door slowly opened both ladies let out a small, surprised gasp as an unfamiliar figure emerged. Unused to the presence of nobody but themselves, the queen and that ghastly knight of hers, the ladies were startled to find a handsome, young stranger emerging from the door; Isabella blushing at the sights of the man she'd hitherto only been able to admire from above as Angela, immediately noticing the effect their visitor had on her young mistress, started to chuckle. This may have been just the change young Isabella needed to emerge from the state of melancholy she'd plunged headlong into.
For a moment Edward stood star struck, the sight of the beautiful young girl in the window seat taking him completely aback. The way the light, streaming in through the small window, illuminated her pale, perfect skin and reflected along the long, loosely braided strands of almost ebony brown hair making her seem more like an angel than the treacherous snake his queen had made her out to be.
"Yes?" Isabella's head cocked to the side, her fine, noble features enhanced as she stared at the young man inquisitively, putting aside the book she had been reading. The movement, so innocent and pure, stirred within Edward a desperate urge to claim and protect; that same feeling so oft described in courtly romances sung by minstrels at his sovereign's high table. It was unfortunate that this very woman, this flawless, unspoiled siren, was the one he was send to kill.
It was only then that Edward remembered himself. "Good day, ladies," he finally spoke. "My name is Edward Masen of Cullen. It is my honor today to take the Lady Isabella out for her daily exercise."
"Is Lord James unwell?" Angela inquired, a horrible sense of foreboding rising in her chest.
"Not at all, mistress Weber," Edward was quick to reply. "I am happy to say that my lord is in excellent spirits. It is the queen's duty that has, regretfully, kept him from taking the princess out today."
"Hmm." Angela frowned, her wrinkled hand cupping her chin as she gazed at the young knight. She'd seen him out and about in the courtyard many a times when she set about doing her daily duties and heard his praise sung by virtually everyone she knew. Still, there was something altogether sinister about the way he was standing there, his dagger hanging low on his hip, that made her hesitate to entrust her mistress into his care.
"I've taken the liberty of having the lady's palfrey saddled," Edward tried, knowing the lady's handmaiden needed more persuading. "I could easily tell them to add a second horse for you if you feel uncomfortable letting your ward ride out without a chaperone."
"And ride out at my age?" Angela cried out. "Upon my word! I've never heard of such a thing!" It was only when she smiled that the young knight let out a breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding; the guard that had been so dominant a feature in the old woman's eyes slowly being dropped as she fixed him with another long, hard look. "No, I think you can be trusted to bring my lady back, safe and sound."
It was with great difficulty that Edward managed to keep his countenance, the deeply rooted aversion he'd always felt against dishonesty doing him no good now. "I will do my duty, madam," he vowed, choosing the lesser of lies to reassure both the maid and her lady before he bowed and left the room in desperate need of a fresh breath of air to calm his troubled senses.
It was thus, slowly breathing in and out, that the Lady Isabella found him standing next to his horse a few moments later, his strong, lean posture and friendly, open face posing a complete opposite to the general uncouth gruffness of the man who usually accompanied her. It was with a deep blush that Isabella concluded that it was a change she found not altogether unpleasant.
Meanwhile Edward's mind was still in turmoil, his eyes following every movement as a stable boy aided the princess in getting into the saddle, his newly awakened heart already waging war with his head and unlocking thoughts the young knight had spent many efforts trying to lock away. Dangerous thoughts.
"Is there a route you usually favor on your rides?" he inquired, laboring to make his voice rise above the horses hooves as they clattered across the drawbridge.
The princess shook her head, her long hair shielding the tell-tale blush as she lied, "We usually play it by ear."
Edward smiled. Of course his captain, in his extensive briefing, had made sure to go into exact detail about the route he always took on his rides, even going to great pains to explain the possibilities the landscape offered in several places. The fact that this lady, this innocent hind, was trying to casually hoodwink him only made her all the more endearing to him.
"Pardon my bluntness, my lady," he chuckled, noting how the outside air and demure blush made her face all the more alluring, "but if you desire to ever become a good liar, you will need a lot of practice." His laughter deepened at her confused look, his hand reaching up to briefly touch to her cheek before he could even begin to realize the impropriety of his gesture. "Your blush betrays you."
"As does yours!" the lady jested back, her stomach aflutter with the effects of being touched so intimately by a man. And what a man indeed! "And for your information: my inability to tell a lie stems from inexperience, not from incapability."
"Of course," Edward's smile deepened at the feistiness his companion betrayed. "I would not have dared to insinuate a deficiency lay at the base of your ineptness."
She rolled her eyes, her head turned over her shoulder as she spurred her horse into a full gallop. "Just ride, Lord Cullen. Let us hope that you're better at horsemanship than you are with your words."
It wasn't until the dust had settled after her that Edward managed to clear his mind enough for him to race after her. How as it that this little waif of a girl had managed to crash through all of the defenses he'd so meticulously built around his heart and innermost thoughts and tribulations when others, more battle hard and experienced than she was, had not even managed to scrape the surface? What kind of magic did this woman possess to be able to torment him so? But even in its general state of befuddlement, his mind was still very clear on one thing: this lady was going to be the death of him.
As they rode and talked well into the morning, Edward's mounting suspicion that maybe his queen wasn't as worthy of his dedication as he'd hitherto convinced himself to be, grew more out of control with every word his companion spoke; her wisdom and insightful comments, even for one as young and withdrawn from the world as she was, slowly making him realize that out of the two royal ladies inhabiting the castle, Isabella would be the better ruler.
It was a thought he could never have contemplated crossing his mind when he'd arrived in the capital, a little over two years before; his mind filled with patriotism and his heart with love for his queen. True, for as long he could remember there had been grumblings about queen Victoria's support of those of her barons who stopped at nothing to enrich themselves, but as far as Edward was concerned, the queen's faults were merely caused by inexperience and lending her ear to the wrong people. It was his belief that, in time and with the right councilors to aide her, she would come to her senses and see that extorting money from those who were already suffering did not a happy country make.
It had been two years since and he was saddened to admit, nothing had changed. If anything, those barons whose greedy fingers had bled the country dry of its riches, had only grown in both number and favor with the queen, forcing the few who, like his father, strove to rule their estates justly and fairly further into the margin.
And in the castle too, the change could be felt. When he had first arrived there had been some still who had served under the old king, their courtly grace and knightly manners lending Edward a perfect image to mold himself to. However, those days were long gone now and with the last of the noble knight's departures, so, it seemed, had departed common sense and moral fiber from the ancient halls. After all, when the reigning queen was too busy fucking her first knight to see how her country was slowly but surely falling into ruin, it was safe to say that all decency had left the building.
Edward had been determined not to follow in the footsteps of the many who took the behavior of their betters as an encouragement to lose themselves in similar sins; the excellent education he'd received at the hands of both his parents and the village priest of the small town of Cullen simply forbidding it. Instead he tried to set an example of knighthood to the young squires arriving from all over the land, hoping that it would keep them from the temptations of debauchery. But in it he was the only one, or so he'd thought.
He glanced sideways, his body moving with the easy of many traveled miles as their horses took them further into the wood, the justness of the cause he had been send to execute now, even more than yesterday evening, plaguing on his mind. Killing this girl, this innocent, intelligent mind, seemed so wrong Edward was beginning to doubt whether or not he could complete the task he had set out for. In fact, he was beginning to wonder whether or not he should.
"You have doubts." The princess' clear voice shocked him back into the present, her large, doe-like brown eyes staring back at him when his eyes glanced sideways yet again. "Mayhap we should stop now and get this over with before you lose your nerve altogether." She paused, a devious light shining in her eyes at the effect her blunt statement was having on its intended audience, the shimmer immediately extinguished when her thoughts flittered back to the cause of it. "I do not wish to give the queen an excuse to do away with two instead of one."
Edward blanched, the cold sweat of shock fogging on his forehead as he stared at her, their horses slowing down to a trot as if they sensed their riders needed their breath for more important matters. "I-I beg your pardon, my lady," he finally managed to stutter, fighting to regain his composure. "I…I know not of what you speak."
The lady shook her head, a sharp look of dissatisfaction furrowing her brow as she held him locked in her gaze. "I may be young and inexperienced but I am not a simpleton," Isabella stated, as calmly and composedly as if it was a mere trifle of which she spoke, not her life or what would soon become of it. "Over the years my maid has kept me perfectly informed of the state of affairs around the country. I know where I stand and I know what the people are saying so when the queen suddenly sends her most noble knight instead of the most noted scoundrel in the realm to take me out for my daily ride, it is not that difficult for me to surmise that my days are numbered."
"You seem so calm." Edward's breath stocked in his throat as he regarded her; the summit of ladylike composure.
She shrugged her shoulders, pulling on the reigns to halt her horse and dismount. "No amount of pleading or crying could ever change my fate."
"And you accept that?" Edward gasped in surprise, the sheer courage of the woman he'd been sent to kill strengthening his belief that his whole mission was a gross injustice and the perpetration of it a deadly sin.
"Believe me," Isabella stated with a rueful smile, "it is not altogether as easy as it may seem. But pray, do not prolong the inevitable." She dropped to her knees, her dress billowing around her bend legs as she bowed her head. "Do your worst. I am quite prepared."
It was in that moment that Edward made the decision that would change the lives of not only himself and the princess but all the men and women in the realm.
"Rise, my lady. I think I just found another way," he stated, his hand stretching to accommodate hers as she complied to his request, her eyes filled with wonder as she followed him back to their steeds.
Thoughts?