A/N: Sorry for the long wait, haven't been writing in a while. This sat in my docs forever, so I thought I would just post it for you all. It's not the longest or the best, but at least it's something :)

Chapter two

-0-

Moving Target

The next day, I find myself attending an early morning training session with the knights of Hebyra on the misty fields behind the castle. It was colder than usual for this time of the year; the mist dampened the clothes and armor I wore, reaching for my skin like ice-tipped daggers. Yet I found this weather most appealing; the white glow covering the lands, the swirls of mist hiding mysteries on the horizon, and the coolness of the wind. The knights were suffering the most, shivering in their cold, metal armor as their muscles trembled and froze. Most had put on an extra pair of breeches, but it helped not, for the cold seeped right through until they could hardly move.

"Around, again!" a voice yelled, drawing my gaze to the broad man that stood near me. He wore a helmet with an elegant red feather, the visor drawn up so I could easily see his hazel eyes: Emmett, the captain of the royal guard.

He jogged over to me, cupping his hands around his mouth to warm them with his breath. The air swirled around his fingers in tendrils of white. Just as he reached me, the group of knights passed, and I heard the grumbles and snide comments they made to their commander. Of course, they hated running in circles, and I understood that they wanted to train with their weapons, but in this cold, they could easily injure themselves if they didn't do a proper warm-up.

And, seeing a frail girl in the same weather as them without as much as goosebumps or a single shiver did not help.

"My Lady?"

I glance at the archer in front of me, a longbow in his hand. The rest of the bowmen had gathered behind him after finishing the shooting range.

"Follow the footknights, you all need to warm up before someone pulls a muscle," I say.

He nods and, with a sigh, rallies the other archers to follow him around the field in a fast jog. Emmett and I watch them do their laps, silent apart from the howling wind and clattering teeth of the captain.

"Shouldn't you run a few laps with them? You will freeze your fingers and toes off like this."

"Nay, I'm alright. Did a few loops around before the group arrived. This cold is just as killing as that sword of yours, I swear," he says.

I laugh. "I highly doubt that, captain."

"Hm, I would suggest a duel, but you have bested me before, and not lightly."

I know Emmett meant it as a joke, but it still hurt to be reminded of that day more than two years ago. He had promised me excessively that he had forgiven me, and that it was the sword who had lost control, not me. I am still hesitant about believing that, but trust in the words Edward had spoken to me in the many times we had discussed this. It happened, dwelling on it will only slow me down in the future. And besides that, I had mastered control over the sword in the past two years, so what happened with Emmett will never happen again.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that," Emmett murmurs, snapping me from my thoughts. His hand hesitantly curls around my shoulder, and gives it a squeeze.

"No, no I mean-" I struggle for the right words. "It's fine. Truly."

My eyes find his, pained and hesitant. He opens his mouth to speak, but the knights have returned and are ready to start their training.

"We're warm, Cap, and ready to start."

"Just warm? We are blazing hot, right guys?" a footknight yells, flexing his bicep before winking at me. His mates laugh, and I cannot help but smile too.

Emmett shakes his head. "Well then, get your blazing hot asses to your weapons and start sparring before she chops your head off."

The footknights laugh and move to do what Emmett says; picking up the blunt training swords and forming pairs. Emmett observes them as they spar, correcting those who need it and demonstrating moves and tactics himself.

The archers remain before me, talking softly with each other as they await my orders. The king gave me the reins over the relatively small group of archers a few months after Hebyra rebuilt. He, well, namely Edward believed I would be a phenomenal captain and could teach the archers better than anyone. Later, he also mentioned that it would be for me, for my growth. I would learn how to lead, for I would need it later in life, with Edward at my side.

"Alright!" I yell, loud enough to silence those who were still talking, and they turn their attention to me. "Today, we will do something different. I assume and hope that everyone here is now skilled enough to hit an unmoving, wooden target?" I cock an eyebrow at the men before me, then smile as some of them snicker before answering wholeheartedly.

"Aye!"

"Very well. Today you will be practicing on a moving target, one that will be as fast as the species you will need to defend your kingdom from."

Eyes widen, and the archers shift nervously, having lost their good spirit as I lay this heavy message on them. Their gazes shift from me to scan the area and I know they are thinking of a vampire, expecting it to jump from the treeline and serve as a moving, live target. No matter how good an exercise that would be for the archer, the risk of it breaking free and entering the castle or any of the surrounding towns would be too great.

"What exactly are we shooting, My Lady?" a young man asks.

I smile and unsheathe the sword from its scabbard strapped to my back. "Me."

I move back to the targets the archer had set up before the training. They would not be aiming at them and only served as a shield of some sort for me today. I stretch my arms wide, my sword loosely gripped in my right hand, and smile at the knights.

"Go on then, don't be shy!"

Slowly, the men move to retrieve their bows and carry the containers full of arrows to the place from where they will shoot. The archers stand ready; stance correct and an arrow nocked, yet no one draws their bow. From the other side of the field, the footknights have stopped their sparring as they stare at us. Emmett too, his gaze shifting from me to the archers.

"Come on, hit me!" I yell.

A few seconds tick past, and then, finally, an archer suddenly draws his arm back and fires an arrow straight at me. I wait, rocking to the balls of my feet, bend my knees, and dance out of the arrow's way.

"Good! Keep them coming!"

After the reassurance that the arrows will, indeed, not hit me, the rest of the group finally moves and starts firing arrow after arrow. A huge wave of them flies towards me, but I have no difficulty dodging the rain of metal-tipped shafts, as the men are still adjusting to my speed and movements, and for some time, no arrow comes even close to hitting me.

The baskets that stand between the archers run low on arrows and I fear that we will need to practice this more often to familiarize them with this form of archery.

In between my movements, I see that two archers are whispering to each other. I am about to yell at them when one suddenly fires an arrow at my face. I duck, but find another arrow from the other man there at my knees, forcing me to jump and roll to the right. As I straighten, an arrow rushes to me, straight at my chest, at my heart, and I find myself unable to move.

I move my sword in front of me, diagonally shielding my body as my other hand comes to rest against the back of the blade. The arrow stops midair, pinned in the soft blue hue that forms a shield in front of me. For several moments, it was silent; the bowmen stopped shooting and everyone's eyes were on me.

I drop the sign, and the arrow clatters to the ground.

I look at the duo that forced me to use it. "Good, very good. Let us stop here for today. I know this was a sudden, unexpected exercise, but I am not disappointed. We will do this several more times until you are all familiar with it."

The archers nod.

"After cleaning up the field, the training is done for today," I say.

I turn and start for the castle, but spot Edward leaning against the fence surrounding the field. Many would not have recognized him for being the prince, for he is wearing black breeches, thick boots, and a heavy black cloak with the hood covering most of his face. The two knights bearing the symbol of the royal guard on their chests are the only way of knowing he is of a royal family.

The guards stand two steps behind their prince, hands on the hilts of their swords, scanning the fields before their eyes turn to me. I nod at them from a distance, and they take that gesture as a discharge; I would take over their duty now.

Edward straightens from the fence and lowers his hood, revealing the untidy mass that is his hair. With the upcoming sun forcing his beams of light through the thick mist, Edward's hair appears to be a mixture of gold and bronze, falling over his forehead in gentle curls. He rakes a hand through the strands, then twists some of the hair around his finger. A nervous gesture I had come to recognize whenever something was troubling him.

"Hello Bella," he greets me as I reach him, and a wide, lopsided grin forms on his face. My favorite, and I almost forget the bitter look his eyes held as I approached him.

"Hey, is something the matter?" I ask.

He picks up my hand and keeps it enclosed in his fur-lined gloved ones. "No, why would there be?" he answers, smiling. His facade is strong, yet I find his weakness in his eyes, intently watching his hand as it plays with my fingers, ignoring my gaze.

"You were frowning just before, and fiddling with your hair," I point out.

Edward's smile falters just a tad. "You know me too well, Bella."

"That is my duty, your Highness," I tease, bowing dramatically low before him.

Edward sighs. "If you truly want to know, I do not enjoy watching you get shot at. Voluntarily. Without a shield."

"I have a shield, Edward, I was perfectly safe. And besides, it is a good exercise for them. They need to learn, and we cannot capture and use a real vampire for this."

"Hm," he mumbles, playing idly with my fingers.

"There is something else, is there not?"

He sighs and finally lifts his eyes to meet mine. The gold and bronze of his hair bring out the beautiful emerald green of his eyes, and my heart does its usual double take as I threaten to drown in them.

"My father wishes to speak with you, today," he says softly.

I had not expected that and my good mood wavers immediately. "Oh? What does he want to speak with me about?"

"I- you should speak to him, I am not allowed to say." His gaze drops as though he is embarrassed.

"Alright." It hadn't happened often that Carlisle wished to speak with me privately in the two years after the war. Usually, Edward made the decisions over me with his father, and would later explain them to me. This was never anything drastic, only slight changes in my job to protect Edward and my promotion to captain of the archers.

"I guess I will see him now, then," I say warily, then step away from the fence.

"Wait, come here!" Edward grips my wrist and pulls me flush against the railing, against him. He grasps my chin and presses his lips to mine. He kisses me softly, slowly moving his mouth against mine until we are both panting for air. He moves to my cheek, pressing a soft kiss there before he whispers in my ear.

"I missed you in bed this morning."

I jerk back from him, eyes wide and mouth agape. My face becomes burning hot.

"Edward!" I gasp. "You cannot say something like that to me before I see your father!"

He laughs. "My apologies, it is still true though. The bed was all cold this morning and my favorite pillow was gone…" Edward trails off, his lips curling in a devious smirk as my blush deepens.

I smack his chest and turn abruptly, stomping off to the castle as Edward doubles over from laughter behind me. I press my fingers to my cheek in a desperate attempt to cool my face and meet Carlisle in a relatively appropriate state.