a princess and dragons

I am in my room. I look at them from afar. As if distance would change my destiny. God had spoken to me about them several years ago. When I returned from my first trip to Europe. He had made it clear that my weapons were ok for the jungle but not for Norway.
He showed me a sword and a shield that would suit the task. I noticed that they were not my size. He made it clear that I would have to build muscles before being able to hold them and use them.
Now they are in my room, along with the rest of my army clothes. I take a deep breath. I should change, but I do not. I am wearing a simple white dress. I walk out to the porch. I look past the garden , the village and the valley. I look into the mountains ahead. There the dragons abide.
I sit on the porch's railing. I sigh. I look at my hands. They are so small, so feminine. Not all that gentle, gardening has made them a bit though, but one thing is fighting with a weed, quiet another is to fight a dragon.
I slowly strech out my legs. I look at my feet. I put them down as I shake my head and look into the mountains ahead. How did I get in this mess? Dragon killing is for men.
Where are they? the men of the ancient stories? the bold men that would bravely stand against all odds? the handsome guys that would laugh at the face of danger?
My horse neighs. I ignore him. He is also restless. He can smell it in the air. It is time, it is even late. He continues to call my attention from the stable that keeps him restrained.
I turn my back on him and jump on the porch.
The King is standing at the door.
I quickly look down and gulp. I know He will ask me why I haven't even changed.
Before He speaks I blurt out:
"I do not want to go out there alone."
His deep voice answers:
"Bea Gasca, who said anything about you going alone"

I lift my eyes surprised
and see that He has his warlike clothes on.