Hey guys, here is the next chapter. I really love writing this fanfiction, but if I don't get any reviews soon, I will be really sad :(. So please review, and enjoy!
-Lauren
x.x.x
'A trip to Camelot?' asked Eleanor incredulously. 'And you're leaving tomorrow?'
They were both in Isabel's chamber, packing like madwomen as they threw clothes into the pack and ran around the room in a frenzy.
'Yes, with Prince Zachary,' said Isabel, grabbing a dress out of her wardrobe. 'It'll be fun!'
'Yes, I'm sure it will be fun,' said Eleanor, ransacking a box of shoes, 'but why didn't you get more notice?'
'Zachary was meant to go with Samson, but Samson fell ill last night,' Isabel explained, trying to find her sword.
'Oh, okay,' said Eleanor, stuffing some clothes into the pack.
'Sorry to leave you, but you can have more fun with me gone, right?' said Isabel, clutching her riding boots with one hand and a shirt with the other.
'Oh yeah, I absolutely hate it when you're around,' teased Eleanor, holding a water skin. 'I'm going to go and fill this up,' she said, leaving the room quickly.
Isabel nodded. She looked around. They'd packed haphazardly – Isabel wasn't sure what they had packed, or what they still needed to find, but she knew that her sword wasn't around. She looked under the bed, behind the curtains, then ran around the room in a frenzy.
'Where's my sword?' she asked, pulling her hair out. She knew that she could find her sword in a moment if she used… magic.
No, she thought, I can't use magic. She did one more round of the room but the search proved fruitless.
'Where's my sword?!' she shouted at herself. That was it. She had to use magic. Her eyes flashed golden, and suddenly the contents of the room were lifted into the air, every nook and cranny exposed. There it was, Isabel could see it under a pile of clothes in the corner.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Isabel froze and the items floating immediately dropped to the ground with a loud crash.
'Isabel, are you okay?' asked a voice, concerned by the loud crashing sound.
'Everything's okay!' said Isabel, panicking. She rushed to the door and found herself face to face with Prince Zachary.
Prince Zachary was the same age as Isabel, a strapping man of twenty years with messy, curly brown hair that fell about his face in a way that caused all the noble women to sigh. He was definitely good-looking, with broad shoulders, a charming smile, chiselled features, and plus, he was the Prince! He could have looked like a toad and girls would still be falling over themselves for him.
Sure, they had been childhood friends forever, but there was still no denying that Zachary was incredibly handsome, and Isabel was still an ordinary girl that couldn't quite break free of the charms of the prince.
'Are you alright?' he asked again. He studied Isabel, who at this moment in time was quite a departure from her usual elegant self. Her hair was a mess, she was wearing riding clothes but had put her shirt on backwards, and sweat was beading down her forehead like little raindrops.
'Oh, yeah,' said Isabel, panting slightly. She leaned against the doorframe and tried to look calm. 'I'm just trying to pack.' She smiled at Zachary earnestly, and pretended that she was relaxed, even though her room was an absolute mess.
'Isabel, your shirt,' said Zachary. Isabel looked down, and to her horror, found that her shirt was on backwards. She pretended to be nonplussed, but she couldn't stop the blush of embarrassment form forming on her face.
'Oh,' she said. 'I'll fix it later,' she said casually.
'Sorry for the short notice,' said Zachary apologetically. The short notice had obviously sent Isabel into a frenzy.
'Oh, that's nothing,' said Isabel, smiling.
'Do you need any help?' he asked. 'I'm all packed at the moment.'
'Oh, no, I'm fine,' Isabel lied. 'I've got it all under control, Eleanor and I.' Zachary highly doubted this statement, as he looked around the room. It was a mess, like Isabel herself.
'Are you sure?' Zachary asked.
'Yes, I'm sure,' said Isabel. 'I can't wait until we go,' she added, hoping it would detract attention from her embarrassingly messy room.
'Yeah, me neither,' said Zachary, smiling. 'I tried to get you to come with me at first, but my father got all huffy, saying that I should go with a boy instead, that you would probably not even want to go…'
Isabel laughed.
'Of course I'd want to go!' she said.
'Yeah, that's what I told my father, but he didn't listen. Luckily Samson got sick, really,' said Zachary, grinning.
'Yeah, pretty lucky,' said Isabel. 'Anyway, I'm going to continue packing. What time are we leaving tomorrow?'
'At dawn,' said Zachary. 'Good luck with the packing!'
'Yeah, thanks,' said Isabel. She turned around and lightly placed her hand on the cupboard, and suddenly, the whole thing overbalanced and came crashing to the floor.
'Isabel!' cried Zachary. There was a loud crash as the cupboard hit the floor, sending a layer of dirt flying into the air. Isabel found herself covered in the dust, and sneezed.
'Oh God,' said Isabel, looking at the wreckage.
'Are you okay?' Zachary asked.
'Yeah,' said Isabel tiredly.
'My lady are you –' Eleanor came rushing at the sound, and found the cupboard on the floor, Isabel covered in dust and Zachary standing, stunned. 'What happened?' Eleanor asked.
'Oh, I just put my hand on it, and the whole thing came crashing down,' said Isabel sheepishly. She bent down to try and lift the cupboard so that she could examine the wreckage, but the cupboard was very heavy and Isabel felt her back strain under the pressure.
'Here, let me,' said Zachary, grabbing the cupboard and lifting it.
'Thanks,' said Isabel, embarrassed. Zachary put the cupboard back in its place, but now all the items that had been lying on the shelves and in the drawers was all over the floor – bowls, cutlery, statuettes, a whole lot of underclothing, and much, much more.
'We'll handle it,' said Isabel. 'I'll see you tomorrow at dawn!' said Isabel, trying to wave Zachary away.
'Are you sure?' he asked.
'Yeah, yeah,' said Isabel, smiling at him to try and reassure the prince. 'Bye!'
'Okay, bye!' he said, leaving, quite confused. When he reached the corridor, he realised the hilarity of the situation and laughed all the way back to his own chambers.
'Isabel –' said Eleanor, looking with horror upon the upturned items.
'Eleanor, can you go and saddle up Silverdew?' Isabel asked.
'But Isabel, the cupboard –'
'I'll take care of it,' said Isabel confidently.
'I can saddle her up later –'
'Eleanor, can you please go and saddle up Silverdew?' Isabel said, rather forcefully. Eleanor got the point.
'Okay, I'll be right back.' Isabel nodded.
'Thanks, Eleanor.'
Eleanor left and Isabel was left alone with the wreckage of her own hand. She closed the door after Eleanor, and took a deep breath.
Her eyes turned gold, and in silence, everything on the floor ascended slowly, like enchanted princesses waking from a slumber. With swishes of her hand, Isabel directed everything back into the cupboard. The shattered bowls mended themselves, the cutlery was stacked neatly, all the clothes folded themselves and everything settled into its rightful place.
Then, she compressed everything in the pack so that it would fit, and her sword zoomed out from under the pile of clothing to lay beside her pack in a neat pile. Various items flew across the room and landed neatly in her pack, until it was full and Isabel had packed everything. She returned all the remaining objects to their rightful places, closed the doors to her wardrobe, neatened her bedcovers and cast the dust out the windows.
Isabel smiled triumphantly. Magic couldn't possibly be bad, she thought.
Eleanor came in, stunned.
'You cleaned it all up already?' she asked incredulously, looking around the room like it wasn't real, like this was all a dream.
Isabel simply smiled.
'It's amazing what you can do when you put your mind to it,' she said, grinning.
x.x.x
Isabel met Zachary at the dining hall at dawn.
They had a quick bite to eat before they set off for Camelot. It would take maybe two days to reach King Uther's palace from here.
'Stay safe, won't you?' Leah said to her daughter.
'I'll be fine, Mum,' Isabel promised.
'Look after my son, won't you, Lady Isabel?' said King Tristan, laughing.
'Oh, I will, your highness,' said Isabel, grinning at the King. Zachary rolled his eyes at his father.
'I think Isabel will be the one needing looking after,' said Zachary teasingly. The parents burst into raucous laughter, while Isabel pushed Zachary playfully.
'I'll see you in a few weeks, father,' said Zachary.
'Stay safe, children, and good luck!' said King Tristan, and with a slap of the horse, they were off, riding to adventure, to the unknown.
x.x.x
The day of riding passed quickly, Isabel and Zachary recounting tales of their childhood and discussing everything from court matters to what mischief they would get up to in Camelot. They raced each other across the fields, laughter ringing out in the open air.
Soon the sun was setting, creating a brilliant conflagration of colours that the two riders witnessed together, words blown out of their mouth by the sheer beauty of the sky. There was nothing to say, they just watched.
'We should make camp soon,' said Zachary finally, as the sun finally dipped below the horizon.
Isabel nodded. 'We should make camp in those woods, just ahead.'
'Okay,' said Zachary. They reached the woods and dismounted their horses, tying them to the trees and setting up camp on the ground. The bare floor was hard, covered in pesky twigs and not at all like the luxurious beds in the palace that they were used to. Still, there was something about getting back into touch with nature that made Isabel smile.
Zachary lit a fire (Isabel had a notorious habit of setting everything surrounding the firewood on fire), and they cooked dinner, which, tonight was stewed rabbit. Zachary cooked – Isabel could not cook to save her life. (Last time Zachary had let Isabel cook, her boiled potatoes had been cooked in too much water, and for too long – they had dissolved into a mush that mixed with the water to create a beige-y, watery excuse for boiled potatoes).
'We should get to sleep soon – we'll keep riding tomorrow night, that way, we'll be able to reach Camelot by dawn. Is that okay with you?' asked Zachary.
'You know I can ride for twice as long as you,' teased Isabel. 'Is it okay with you?'
Zachary scowled.
'I'm fine with it – I can keep riding just as long as you,' he challenged.
'Sure,' said Isabel, grinning. 'No whining like last time,' she warned.
'I – I was not whining!' protested Zachary passionately. 'I was simply… commenting on the distance.'
'You said, "Why is it so long? I'm so tired, I wish we were there already! And this stupid rain…"' said Isabel, the grin on her face widening with glee.
'I did not say it like that!' Zachary objected. 'I merely said "It's a long journey."'
'Whatever you say, sire,' said Isabel, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
'Don't call me sire!' said Zachary. He hated it – everyone called him sire. Isabel liked to call him sire to tease him.
'As you wish, sire,' said Isabel.
'Isabel!' said Zachary, annoyed. Isabel simply grinned.
'Sire!' she replied cheekily, mimicking his tone of frustration.
'I'm going to sleep,' said Zachary, knowing that he had lost this battle. He lay down on the floor and turned over.
'Oh, this ground is so hard – blast it!' Zachary whinged. Isabel laughed.
'You're whining!' she accused. Zachary groaned. She had won again.
'Goodnight,' he said finally, not wanting to admit defeat.
'Sweet dreams, sire,' said Isabel mischievously. Zachary sighed. Isabel turned over, but she rolled a bit too energetically, and found herself rolling down the hill. She screamed and Zachary jumped up, to find his best friend landing with a thud at the bottom of the hill, covered in leaves, grass, mud and twigs.
'I'm fine, I'm fine!' she proclaimed, getting up and waving from the bottom. Isabel then tripped over her blanket, falling to the ground again.
Zachary burst into laughter.
x.x.x
Isabel was standing over a man she didn't know. He was blond, very handsome, and lying shirtless on his bed as he slept. Isabel watched the steady rising and falling of his chest, and wondered why she was here.
She could see out the window – it was midnight, the moon high in the sky and the palace covered in darkness. She looked around the room – the man was rich, whoever he was. He had a vast wardrobe, as well as lavish goblets and luxurious bed linen. On a dressing table, Isabel spotted a crown.
Wait, this man was royalty? How could that be? He was not King Tristan, nor Prince Zachary, and he was definitely not Zachary's little sister, Princess Dana. Who was he, then?
Something was wrong – very, very wrong. Isabel shivered involuntarily. Isabel could feel it in her bones, her intuition was screaming 'danger!' and she was very jumpy.
A rat scampered in the corner of the room, and Isabel had to slap a hand over her mouth to stop herself from crying out. She was on edge. This place was dangerous, but she didn't know what was wrong. The mystery made her all the more terrified.
Quietly, she crept closer to the bedside. This man – Isabel had never seen him before in her life. Yet she knew that he was not the dangerous one. There was something else here; something else was the force of evil that made Isabel so scared.
She looked down at her hands, and found a dagger. Good. If she had a dagger, she could use it if she was attacked.
Isabel.
It was that voice again! Isabel held her head in terror, anything to make it go away!
Isabel, you can't escape from me, the voice taunted.
No! she cried silently.
It is your destiny, Isabel. You know what that dagger is for.
Horrified, Isabel looked down at the dagger she was holding in her hands.
Do it. Do it NOW.
Isabel tried to fight the urge, but she, suddenly possessed by something other than her own sane mind, climbed onto the bed softly, so softly that the sleeping man did not even stir. Slowly, she brought the dagger up in the air, and it glinted in the silver moonlight.
NO! she screamed at herself, but somehow, her body didn't hear her. They were two separate things now, and she had no control.
Kill him!
The dagger came down quickly, burying itself in the man's chest. Blood spurted everywhere, and Isabel was screaming, but no noise came out. Nobody could hear her. The man's eyes flickered open, horrified, but then he slumped and was lifeless.
Isabel had murdered him.
x.x.x
'NO!' she screamed. Zachary watched his fevered friend, not knowing what to do. He held her hand and wiped the sweat from her brow.
'Isabel, wake up,' Zachary said, shaking her. But Isabel was not to be called from her nightmare just yet. Zachary knew that she was in pain, she was in agony, and he hated having to see her like this.
Isabel let out a blood-curdling scream that shook Zachary to the bone and echoed in the emptiness for what seemed like forever. She squeezed Zachary's hand tightly, and he watched her, worried. What was wrong? He couldn't do anything – he couldn't defeat the demons in her mind, and he hated being powerless against something that was hurting his friend.
'Isabel, it's just a dream,' he said softly. She was still screaming, tossing and turning restlessly. Zachary held her down so that she didn't hurt herself, even though Isabel was strong and kicking him quite hard.
Finally, she stopped screaming and her eyes flew open. Her whole face was fraught with terror, and she was so, so scared.
'Isabel,' said Zachary gently. 'It's alright, it was just a dream,' he cooed. She was still disturbed, but the sight of Zachary's face calmed her.
It's just a dream, she told herself, trying to calm down. It's just a dream.
Isabel was still breathing fast, almost hyperventilating, and Zachary could feel her heart pounding at what certainly was too fast to be healthy. He held a hand to her cheek and wiped the sweat from her face.
'It's okay,' he assured her gently. Slowly, he helped her sit up, and held her hand.
'Are you alright?' he asked, extremely concerned. Never had he seen Isabel so shaken in his life. Isabel was strong, and nothing really scared her, but now, in the pale moonlight, she looked like a vulnerable child scared by the monster under the bed.
'Zachary, I –' she cried, then burst into tears. He held her tightly, not sure what else to do. She kept sobbing, and he stayed with her the whole night.