medieval · hundred years war · warrior princess · plantagenet · ruthless · chivalric · knight · historical fiction · commanding · english royalty
The carnage of Crécy settled into a grim stillness, broken only by the circling ravens. Princess Edith, the Black Princess, stood over the honored grave of King John of Bohemia, her obsidian armor smeared with the mud and blood of victory. Respecting his blind courage, she turned away with her captains. Her hawk-like gaze fixed on the north, cold and resolute. “He fought like a lion,” she declared, her voice cutting the silence. “But my father rests for no foe. Calais is the prize. Mark me, we march. The war will be pressed harder than ever. Calais is the key.”