I suppose it wouldbe proper to apologize for my tardy update - tardy being a sad understatement. My regrets - I am selfish and should be slapped. But don't let that stop you from reading chapter two :) Drop a line or two after you're finished, if you please.

Philip of France had endowed his child richly, and she left France on the arm of Edward the younger adorned with wealth befitting of an empress. In a favourable state of mind, Philip had also gifted his new son-in-law with several expensive rings and chains of gold.

Watching their leaders arrive in Dover on chilly February waves, the English greeted their new princess warmly and with much hope. She was young and beautiful, and her womb would determine the future of England.

They rejoiced again in London, when the French princess received her official coronation as Princess of Wales, and future Queen of England. All partook in comradery with Prince Edward, but none laughed as merrily or looked as happy drinking with the prince as the young man who had stood at the back of the Boulogne cathedral. In a forced effort to include her in his activities, Edward introduced his new wife to the young man, who was called Piers de Gaveston.

Princess Isabella did not care for the young man with his rich clothes and sparkling eyes which met and lingered over-long with her husband's. It was not until much later when she was settled in her new apartments at the King's castle that she heard complaints against de Gaveston. "The Favourite" he was called, and it was widely known that the prince lavished money and gifts upon the young man. To the irritation of many, a generous amount of the royal coffers had been emptied into the young man's pocket by the prince. More then once, Isabella noticed the jewelry that her father had given to Edward adorning de Gavston.

- - -

Life in London was uneventful. Nicolette was my one comfort and companion. Edward had seen it fit to dismiss the small French court I had brought across the Channel with me, but I did not complain. I thought that perhaps if I remained the docile and dutiful wife that my husband would adapt to his role in our marriage. However, he did not. He continued to gallivant childishly with his companions, disregarding his father the King's attempts to mold him into a leader. I was questioned many times on the whereabouts of Edward, who would be hunting or doing some such frivolous activity while the King met with his counsels and managed the country. Many times, my husband sent me in his stead to sit in on these councils. It is thus that I learned far more then a woman of my position is expected to know. I learned of the King's tight reign over the nobles - those of England and Scotland - and the ruthless manner in which he dealt with uncompromising lords. I understood why my father had said to keep one's friends close, but to keep their enemies closer. It is at one such counsel that I became aware of the growing contempt in Scotland for the English King, and the rebel Scot, William Wallace.

- - -

The field was trampled and muddy from the endless parade and charge of horses across it. At one end stood an impressive wooden structure draped with colourful banners and streamers depicting the standards of English knights and their lords. Reclining comfortably in cushioned seats was the royal party, lazily observing the clashing of armored men and their lances. Thomas Lancaster, hereditary high steward of England and the King's nephew, roared his approval to the victorious knights from his seat on the King's right. Princess Isabella winced at his coarse conduct, wondering how this man with such a dim-witted character managed five earldoms, including the powerful Lancaster, Derby, and Liecester. The princess did not enjoy the King's jousting tournaments, having always found the violent colliding of steel and wood disturbing. Her maid Nicolette however used the contests as an opportunity to flirt with the soldiers, and easily had them boasting that they would win the tournaments for her.

Isabella rose from her seat as her husband rode a coal-black charger onto the field, greeted by riotous shouts from the nobles and peasants alike. He cantered his horse around the perimeter, while the princess waited for him to reign in before the royal party.

"My lords, milady," he said carelessly, patting his horse's neck.

"Whom do you face today, son?" The King did not rise, but merely regarded Edward languidly from his seat.

"Warwick and le Depenser, sir. Easy matches!" he bragged. His cousin Lancaster roared again from the King's right.

"You think so, Ed? Don't try too hard boy, I've got gold resting on Warwick's head!"

He slapped his knee, clearly of the opinion that his bet would pay off well.

Isabella stepped forward shyly, holding a silk handkerchief between the tips of her middle and index fingers. "I pray you accept this token, my lord. Of course, you will win, but my wishes nonetheless." She arranged her features into the coy expression she had seen English ladies wear when toying with their knights.

Edward looked at his wife, her arm outstretched, the cloth dangling from her hand. His face twisted into a grimace, and he seemed unable to speak. His reluctance to take the token was obvious, but he was spared the embarrassment of answering when the Earl of Warwick hailed him from across the field. He kicked his horse away, leaving the princess frozen with the handkerchief still between her fingers.

Mortified, Isabella turned from the field. "If you will excuse me, milord," she mumbled in the King's general direction before hastily leaving the stand. Nicolette followed, leaving her handful of eager young men crestfallen.

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