Chapter 1

"Jane," mom says. "Chin up, back straight and always wear a smile on your face." I don't mention the fact that she reminds me this every hour of every day. This is a duty as a lady in waiting to the princess Lavittia.

My mom can no doubt sense my discontent. "Jane, remember just how fourtane you are. Blood and gore is no life for a lady. Your place is here. The men have laid claim to that position and with good reason. They are fiercer and more athletic than us."

She does not seem to realize that I am very much aware of my position and this being aware of my position continually nags me to prove society wrong. I must make a point.

Tonight I will study in the darkness every code of chivalry, every weapon and alloy, every tactic. As I learn this knowledge by heart, I shall train in secret. For a lady under nearly every circumstance knowledge is best kept under lock and key. Knowledge, tactics, and decisions have been claimed by the men. I cannot even choose who I wish to marry.

For now I must report to my duties. I shall teach the little majesty to needle point and find her the proper garments for every occasion. Then tonight I will visit the library. I must learn. My place is elsewhere, my palace lies beyond these walls.

Chapter 2

Tonight is the Feast of the Fortnight. The castle is buzzing with excitement and mother intends to match me up with an agreeable suitor. "Jane. It is time. Put on your dress and wash your hair with the lavender smell. You will radiate light and smell of rose.I hope tonight that you will find an agreeable suitor." I know I must attend so I willingly give in. Besides, I could gain a worthwhile contact. I want to learn to become the written word. Yet, how does a lady casually bring up the tactics of war? How it is best to trick a man into opening up target?

My dress is dark lavender in color and my sleeves reach the floor. The hem of my garment is embroidered with golden thread intricate roses. This life is no adventure. The worst aspect of this finery is the headpiece that projects little white scallops at the top of my head covering the length of my long hair.

Chapter 3

The candles flood the great hall giving the wall and its surroundings a scarlet and brilliant yellow aura. The music is lively and the dance spontaneous as the ladies and gentlemen tap and twirl in their brightly colored garments. The sounds of laughter and disjointed conversations eco off of the walls.

In this environment, my livly personality fades. My soul becomes drowned in this sea of souls. Still, if not for myself, or then my mother, I smile slightly. I have been told to smile and to be gentle as it encompasses pleasantness.

"Pardon me, Miladey." A raven black lanky haired man asks. "May I have this dance?" A lady must expect a gentleman and gracefully accept every prospect. "Willingly. And only because I must." He looks at me as though I am a strange sea creature then immediately shakes of his feeling of dread in replace a forced smile.

We stumble had in hand on to the dance floor. The violins sing a symbolic concerto as if, as if this moment will be my future. "What is your name?" He asks with a tender smile and feigned desire. "Jane. Jane Goodall."

"Lady Jane…." I cut him off. "Don't call me lady. Many others may think this title is a form of respect, however, it is only a hindrance to me and my virtues. If you wish to court me, court me with your knowledge of battle tactics and arms. I am as determined as any page." He glances towards the door and purses his lips, attempting to conceal a chuckle and make sense of my request. "Very well then Jane. Or should I say page Jane. I will teach you all that you wish to know, only if you choose to marry me."

In this society, that is such a sound offer. But I am independent. Why must we rely on men? I gain his eye contact and smile slyly, "I cannot, although you may be a sought after suitor. How can I truly know my worth if I am hindered by your successes. Upon this, I don't even know your name."

" I am not as fickle minded as to marry a complete stranger. Perhaps I am a romantic in this sense but that is what I know of me now. Court me with your Knowledge. If I find you are fickle or of lacking experience, I shall quit this endeavor. Do you understand?"

I can tell that I have pulled a number of strings. His veins bulge out, pupils widen, and veins stick out of his neck. He tries to hold his temper but instead speaks in a harsh tone, "Jane, I cannot believe that you aren't already swept off your feet by simply looking at me. Isn't my face a name in a sense. Very well then, my name is Gunther Freitz and I was stunned by your beauty."

"Dear, dear Gunther, you make yourself sound so narcissistic. There are plenty of ways to introduce oneself beyond beauty and status. Besides, how do I know that you are not a part of my parents plan to engage me in matrimony. And my parents already have a place in the court, as have I. You seem like the kind who hunts." I bite my tongue to conceal a laugh.

He takes a step back, frustrated. "Madam, you are a fool. A fool in the simplest sense, which is less of an achievement. I am here to help your family. Are you that selfish that you will save yourself at the expense of your family? And as for battle tactics, I suppose I must teach you. You are as demented as the fabled valkeries who eat dead warriors intestines. You would do well in battle. Meet me in my quarters at noon tomorrow. I will tutor you. Good night!"

Mother walks up behind me and taps my shoulder. "Jane, I hope all went well with Sir Freitz. Did it not?" I sigh as I look into her eyes. "Yes, we have set a date for tomorrow." I wait for her to contently smile and then I mention "In his quarters."

I walk away with a smirk of contentment and take my place next to Lattivia. "Jane, I saw you conversing with Guther! Wouldn't he be a pleasant match? Oh, imagine the children you could have!" I smile, "Yes, I suppose we could have made a good match. You see, he asked to marry me as he was stunned by my beauty. I respectfully declined." Her smile slowly fades. "Oh, yet a lady must politely accept an offer to dance. We should then draw a parallel with the offer marriage. Well, I suppose I should have known that you would develop fancies on the topic of independence for a lady.I know you are imaginative, yet aren't some dreams unrealistic?"

Lattivia has long been my best if not only friend. Instead of casting me out, like the other girls of the court; she welcomed me. I suppose her status caused the same unwelcome privacy.

"I know independence is an idea. Yet, isn't love only an idea if it isn't accompanied by actions? I don't wish to start a riot with my choices, I wish to be happy. Having the same respect as a man will accomplish my goal."

Lattivia sighs. "Yet, Jane you cannot be a man as you do not fit the biological standard."

"I know I cannot meet the biological standards and I want love from a man. True deep and passionate. I only wish that I not be conceived as an item of lust. Rather be respected for my mind."

"Jane, don't tell any of your desire. You may not wish for beauty and yet you have it. The beauty on the outside only reflects the beauty of your mind. " I sigh. "Yet, i'd rather be a hoar than dependent on any one person."

Chapter 3

"Ladies and gentlemen rise for the arrival of our king!" The yeoman ejaculates. We all stand as our eyes wander to the large oak doors. Lattivia's father walks courageously down the dining hall.

"It was on this day, a century ago our history says, a great red dragon that had been captured and given as a gift to king Harold; set fire to this very keep. The dragon had come from the far South, the land of Archibald where mythical monsters of epic gastlyness, to this day prosper. The dragon came from Richean, a traitor, trying to right his wrongs in that society. You see, Harold only accepted the dragon only because he could not believe in his ability to survive this odysseus endeavor. Nevertheless, he did. Still, our many young do not understand why we remember this dark event with a feast. The fact is, we feast having our learned our lesson. The lesson was this, if a man first willingly trades his society for a bag of gold in the first place, no matter how much be begs, he cannot be given mercy. If given the chance to right his wrongs to society, he should refrain because his gift could go up in flames."

"Bring the Richean Roast!" The kitchen staff brought the King the corpse and his tools for the meaningful tradition. "Richean you traitor! We burst in the flames! Forgiveness is forbidden!" As he shouted the last line, filled with anger and hatred; the King plunged the ceremonial dagger into the roast beast's heart. "Let it be known, if any refuse to conform to his or her place in society, they shall be drawn and quartered!"

Sometimes I wonder if I unintentionally wish for a horrific death. My entire personality passes for heresy. I was careful about my childish dreams up until this point; I suppose I am going mad.

What if truly my potential suitor wished to marry me? Why did I ask a respected gentleman of this honorable court to train me in the ways of men? I am going to get myself killed. No point in sugar coating the truth.