The Rejected Queen

Chapter 2 - Isabel

Darned shepherds. That was the third to be killed by wolves this week. I thought they were supposed to be protecting their sheep from the wolves. How can they do that when they can't even protect themselves? I sigh in frustration and send the soldier out. If they keep up at this rate we won't have any wool to sell to the East come spring and they were already behind on payments to the south. If I don't sort something out I'll have an investigation on my hands and that is something I really don't want to have to deal with at the moment. I have much more important things to be dealing with than 20 guineas of debt owed by some shepherds to a nothing village in the south. Pacing in annoyance, I wander in circles until I can hardly stand I feel so ill. Letting out a scream of frustration, I call in my best soldier and trusted advisor. He doesn't say a word as he enters, knowing that's not the reason he's here. He's known me long enough to realise when I'm frustrated it's best to not speak. "Have you heard about the shepherds?" I ask coldly, my voice bouncing off the large stone walls. Nodding slightly he replies,"I heard just before I came. An investigation is likely to be called." I growl under my breath. "Call out ten men and begin an investigation of our own. I don't have time to play games with the southerners." He nods but still looks doubtful. I know my idea is hardly likely to prevent those uptight snobs from trying to put me in my 'place' but it's worth a try. He turns on his heel and leaves abruptly, already barking orders at the soldiers standing at the doors.

As the doors close, I slip out the great hall through the servants corridor and walk quickly towards the library. As I push open the doors, I check that no one is watching me. I have no worries about anybody trying to stop me - I am the Queen after all - but something tells me that I don't want people knowing about what I'm doing just yet. I reach down to the bottom shelf and gently take out a large blue book with ornate golden decorations on the spine. Over the past few months I have gotten to know the rough parchment of this book very well. Flicking through the thick pages I reach the most important page in the book. It has a sketch of her. The one I'm trying to find. I trace my fingers over the delicate, sketchy lines that make up her face and close my eyes, desperately trying to envisage her face. I'm jolted back into the present by a soldier slamming the door open, out of breath, most likely from running all the way here from the watch tower. "We just got a message your majesty. A party is being assembled." He turned to leave but just before he closed the door he half turned and said,"The captain also asked me to tell you that he didn't realise wolves knew how to use stone daggers." I put my head into my hands as the door closed behind him. This whole problem had just gotten a lot bigger.