Well, I'm running dry on ideas. Got any? Anyways, thanks if you stuck around until now. Please review! D Oh, and any new stories I start, will not postpone my writing of this, but please check out my other stories. Yay! You guys make my day!

Previously: I only had a second to ponder it before I felt his warm lips upon mine.

I don't believe I have ever been this bored in my whole life. I've been at Edward's castle for over a week. Not a word from a friend, not a word from my parents, nor a word from Edward, my husband.

It's as if everyone is ignoring me. It's pure torture! That's when I finally decided, I was going to do something about this.

I marched through the hallways with a purpose; I was going to talk to my husband. I must have wandered at least six hallways before I ran into a servant, named Lily. I asked her where I could find my Lord. She pointed off into a small hallway that led to large wrought iron double doors, with quick mumblings about a council meeting.

I thanked her quietly and strode off towards the door, tripping on the hem of my dress. As I neared the door, my pessimistic side spoke up, What if he doesn't want to see you? I was startled to see how true that could be. I was starting to reconsider, when I realized I was at the doors. No turning back now, I told myself sternly.

I walked up to the doors and laid my hands gingerly on the iron knots. I took a deep breath and pushed.

Before me lay a grand table with multiple chairs surrounding it. On the table was a large map, with a dagger sticking out from the center. There were also plenty of men gawking at my audacity. I paid them no mind and walked right up to a chair, pulled it out, and sat.

I shrugged and asked, "Do you not expect me to participate?" All of the men looked around nervously, then looked towards Edward, who promptly shrugged.

A balding man, who looked to be about the age of 55 stood, waving his hands in exasperation. "But, she can't take part, she is a girl!" he screeched his protest.

Edward's face hardened into a mask and he started to open his mouth to retort when I spoke, "Yes I am a girl. Do you have any complaints that would have any standing? Or are you going to allow this meeting to continue?" Some of the men glanced at each other and one of them stifled a laugh behind their hand, disguising it as a cough. Edward's eyes danced with laughter, though his face stayed impassive.

The man stuttered some more, then resigned took his seat, with his fists balled up on either side of him.

I then stated, "Continue."

Edward cleared his throat first then said in his velvety voice, "As I was saying, Spain has been raiding our borders, and our crops are being burned. Our civilians are starving to death, while our soldiers are greatly outnumbered. Do any of you propose a solution?"

Many of the men stirred then raised their hands to answer. The meeting went on in a manner of such, and I had an equal part to say.

From them on, I attended all of the council meetings, and others of the sort. Nobody protested outright, but many did show their bitterness.

I spent another month or so attending the council's when I decided, why should I advise them while they take all of the risks? I asked my chambermaid where the men practiced archery, and she said down at the open courts out of the way of the stables, and riding grounds.

Next I visited the armory. The man who was in charge, held himself proudly and looked as if he could run down even the best knight in the kingdom. He had is hair cropped short on both sides, with speckles of gray flecked throughout his grey hair. He had a scar running from his left shoulder blade down to his forearm, that a thick bulge of scarring. He had thin lips and a small nose, and beady eyes, that looked like they could see a mouse on a plain.

He looked down at me contemptuously as I entered the armory, with my chin held high, and my obvious stubbornness etched out across my face. I marched up to him, and he looked slightly taken aback by my forwardness.

"Yes, your highness?" he asked with defiance. He gazed straight into my eyes, assessing me.

"I need a bow. I'll need your preference on which type would most likely fit me. I will need strings and an oiled cloth for the string and I will need at least two dozen arrows. Thank-you." He stared at me intently, waiting for me to say, joking or something else.

After a few moments he realized he wasn't going to get a disclaimer, so he stated, "Our bows are back here." He gestured toward a dark corner of the loud armory where two racks of bows stood, one long, one short.

I walked over to the racks, with the master right on my tail, and glanced over all of the bows. They were all glossy from polishing and had perfectly curved frames. I picked up a short bow and tested the flexibility, marveling at the springiness of the wood, how the handle fit my hand. I was just about to accept it, when the training master waved his hand over and saying, "It's no good for your build. You look like you could easily hold a long."

I followed him over to the other rack of hanging bows, and he handed one to me. It had a glossy coat and after testing proved to be a simple pull. He shook his head yet again, was he going to say that none of these fit me?

We walked two bows over and there, was a white ash bow, longer than most, about at my shoulder. It had a polished surface, where if you moved your hand in front of it you could see the reflection. I picked it up and noticed that it was extremely light. I asked for a string, and strung it quickly, from the years of practice in France.

I pulled the string gently and was surprised that it was incredibly easy to draw. The handle practically caressed my hand.

The training master was nodding, showing his pleasure openly.

"I love it when someone finds a perfect fit, it's as if they are actually paying me a compliment." I giggled slightly at his comment, but quickly became quiet when I realized that he was completely serious.

"I'll take it. Thank-you kind sir." I turned and left after giving him a copper bit for his troubles. I followed a worn path down to the training yards. I looked around as slowly all of the men who were practicing turned to stare at me.

One of them yelled a jeer, but I ignored him and kept moving. I walked down to the archery field and stood next to a post that marked where to shoot from. The target was a good 30 yards away. I pulled an arrow from the quiver that the training master had so generously supplied.

I placed the arrow on the string and tested the balance. I lined up on the line, pointed, and loosed. The arrow flew towards the target, entering on the outer rim. I took a deep breath and tried again, landing one line farther in.

I kept going taking steps towards the center, until finally I hit dead center. I loosed another, watching it thud into the center yet again.

The men who surrounded me's faces went from contemptuous to astounded. As my arrows continued to hit the center of my quarry.

A broad faced man, with a barrel chest stepped forward, with a grunt. He carried an extremely stiff looking longbow and had a grimace on my face, of distaste or pain, I'm not sure. He limped forward on a bowed leg and finally bellowed, "How do you think you are, taking our courts?"

I turned to face the man, eye to eye, "I am Princess Isabella of France, wife to Prince Edward and the monarch of this castle."

"Sorry, milady, we didn't hear tale of your magnificence with a bow."

"Thank-you. It's not widely known. I only practiced on home courts. You may go back to your practice."

Hey, thanks for reading till here, try and get up the next one within a week. D