Who I Am (standard:adventure, 5582 words)
Author: S.Grace HE10	Added: Feb 20 2002	Views/Reads: 3311/2547	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
takes place in Medieval times, daughter of king wants to become a knight, not allowed to, not believed in...

Cling! Bang! Ting! I sighed heavily. I moved towards the left of the
stone castle wall window to see a better view of the knights. The 
knights in training, shining brightly by the steel armor they wore, 
looked more glamorous than anything I could possibly imagine. I... 
“Elizabeth!” My thoughts were interrupted by a loud bellow coming from 
the hallway. It was my father, King Markus Arthur Louis the first. 
“Coming!” I replied into the corridor. I ran down the cold stone floors 
accompanied by the torches that hung along the wall to give me 
direction. Making a left, a right and then another left, I found myself 
in the sitting chamber where my father was. Seated on his favorite 
plush burgundy chair, he rested his face upon his hands and heaved a 
sigh. His brown hair, turned white by time, lay idly upon his forehead 
as his deep blue eyes merely looked at me preparing me for a lecture. 
“Why are you not in the school house with monsieur Labois and the rest 
of the school girls?” He asked inquisitively. “Oh papa, I decided to 
take the day off. I was tired and did not sleep well last night, which 
is all.” He grinned as though he understood. “That’s all? Hmm, young 
lady, understand this: You are a privileged young woman, lucky enough 
to have the opportunity to learn. While other young ladies beg on the 
corners of the streets of England just to be taught the alphabet! And 
you! You’re too tired to go to the schoolhouse for two hours a day? How 
spoiled has my daughter become? Do you feel that you are really that 
good for school that you need not attend? Or was there an alternative 
reason you’re not telling me? Tell me, why did you really not go to see 
monsieur LaBois?” I looked down and shuffled my feet perplexed. “He 
would never understand why I hate that schoolhouse, and yet, this might 
be my only opportunity to tell him what’s bothering me. If only he had 
a little compassion”. “Father, I...well, I...” “Don’t stand there a 
like a blithering idiot young lady! Speak!” “I don’t like school 
because it’s not what I want,” “Oh, it’s not what you want,” my father 
made a sarcastic pout on his face and titled it to the left slowly. 
“Tell me, Elizabeth, what is it that you want?” ‘It’s now or never,’ I 
thought. “I wanted to watch the new knights come in for training! 
Father, I want to be a knight.” I bit my lip in anticipation of the 
disgust in his face and the fire in his eyes. However, my father only 
blinked rapidly and laughed loudly. I stood indigent. His eyes began to 
water, as his body moved to his unceasing chuckle. He motioned for his 
silk handkerchief sitting on the table. “No, seriously now Elizabeth” 
he began dabbing at his eyes. “What is it?” With no other response but 
that of the truth, I said again, “I want to become a knight! A woman’s 
role in school is to learn how to read and sew and fill her head with 
idle activities that make her equal to the servants in regards to 
service! What more can I do with the knowledge of how to sew other than 
sew? I want to learn how to fight, how to maneuver! I want to be a 
knight and fight in battles, and defend the country in which I so do 
believe. I want to travel the world, representing my country with 
England’s seal upon my sword. I want to be a knight!” My father looked 
up at me as though to be taking me seriously. Then, within the blink of 
an eye, his demeanor was lost and he began to howl in laughter once 
more. There was a knock on the wooden door. It took a while for my 
father to say “enter”, but when he finally regained composure I turned 
to see who was at the door. The young knight bowed respectfully to the 
king. When he looked up I could see the brightest blue of his eyes. His 
chestnut brown hair laid creased on his head from his helmet he was 
wearing during training, which now was held on his right side. His 
stature was intimidating to any man of normal height, but implied 
safety and security for his wife. Of course, he was not married, not 
yet anyhow. Jean D’Arlache had gained permission by my father three 
years ago to court me, and has been ever since. “Ahh Jean, how are you 
today my boy?” “Very well Sire and yourself?” “Just fine” “And you 
Cherie?” Jean asked towards me. I smiled. “Just fine Jean,” I replied 
as he took my hand to kiss it. There was a slight pause. My father 
looked at us and smiled warmly, “When are you going to propose, my boy? 
I’m not getting any younger. And I’d like to see that my only daughter 
gets married.” “Father!” A light chuckle was Jean’s response. “All in 
due time, Sire” 

*		*		* Jean and I walked along the courtyard of the grey stonewall
castle. The green silky vines had collected nicely against the palace, 
creating fine nests and hiding place for animals requiring them. The 
day was beautiful, not a single cloud in the sky. Along the distance I 
could hear the horse’s screeching while the knights practiced their 
tournament games. I sighed. “What’s troubling you?” Jean asked 
innocently. I had earlier debated whether or not to tell him, but I was 
scared of hearing a negative response for him as well, so I chose not 


Click here to read the rest of this story (374 more lines)