Hey, Wolf Lover42 here! This is a story about a medieval Bella and Edward with a bunch of my own twists and turns. Therefore, this is OOC and AU. Feel free to send an IM and correct me on anything that's mistaken, without negatives, please! Please enjoy and review! All Twilight rights go to Stephanie Meyer, the awesome creator of the Twilight Saga. ;)
Summary: Isabella Marie Swan is a twenty-year-old princess in the kingdom of Swan. Her parents, Charlie and Renee, are the powerful king and queen. The kingdom is prosperous and nothing could be better. But Bella knows she must marry a prince soon, and she knows she can't deny her parents' orders, but she already has a lover. Edward Cullen is a twenty-three-year-old servant for the royal family, and loves Princess Bella to the end of the world. But can they overcome the forbidden love? And when a mysterious man kidnaps the princess for his own plans, everything that the lovers know is put on the line. There are very strange happenings and there's hardly anything to stop it. But when Bella's kidnapper, James, goes too far and ends up killing the princess, everything changes dramatically. Not only does magic enter Bella's life, but devastation. Can she overcome all that's happened?
Chapter 1: Dreamless Sleep
All she could see was his face.
The breeze softly brushed her cheeks. The trees rustled with the purple flowers. The stream whispered her name. Sunshine danced on the ground before her, making patterns. Leaves fell slowly and churned before her eyes…She loved the cool outdoors.
"Princess, what are you doing here?"
Edward Cullen bowed to her. She pointed her chin to seem not to care, but she did—very much.
"My Lady, the king was wondering where you were. He asked me to get you."
"For what, stable boy?" she jeered. Oh, how lovingly he gazed at her!
"Your fitting, I think, Your Highness."
His green eyes glowed bright and his black, curly hair shined in the sun.
"Well, then…" She smiled. Bella held out her smooth hand, "take me home."
Edward smiled brightly.
Once at her stone kingdom, Edward left her at her father's door.
"Until later, my Lady…" He bowed out of sight.
She knocked, but no one answered. Bella pushed the beautifully carved door—the centuries-old door—and entered. Her father's room had nothing but books. He loved them, cherished them, and held them as if the only thing he had left. Bella herself loved books, and she knew how to read, but she wasn't as obsessed as her father. She gazed through their covers, then picking one at random. It was called Swan History—an old story of her kingdom's history. She stroked its cover, but put it back and took another. This one was covered in a dirty yellow. It was titled Morning Frost. She'd never heard of this one before.
"It's about a girl who gets lost but finds true love in the end."
She dropped the book with a slam that echoed. Father was standing at the doorway, smiling mischievously.
"Father!" She put Morning Frost back on the shelf. "You almost scared me to death!" Her heart still thumped.
"Nonsense. You're still alive, my daughter."
She smiled, and then frowned, looking down. "I'm sorry for intruding."
"Nonsense," he repeated. "It's fine. Are you ready for your fitting?"
She bowed swiftly, and followed her father out. Their low heels clicked and echoed against the corridor ceilings. Lovely paintings hung on the pretty walls. It was all so beautiful.
"Father, exactly what am I getting fitted for?" Bella asked, walking at his side. Her skirts rustled.
"My dear, we are going to a ball for your cousin Benjamin," he answered. They turned down a bigger corridor.
She had never had much contact with her family, and as she concentrated on who her cousin Benjamin was, but then…
"Ball?" Her heart skipped a beat.
"Yes, and you should have the prettiest dress anyone has ever seen."
"No, no. That's not what I meant."
"What did you mean?" he asked curiously. They had stopped, and a servant watched them, absentmindedly dusting a painting. Neither Bella nor her father took notice of her.
"Are we allowed to bring a guest?"
He snorted and continued along. Did he doubt her? The maid sighed. "Why on Earth would you want to do that?" he grunted. "You could make plenty of friends there! Maybe find a lover." He glanced sideways at her. A hint?
I already have one. "But I don't want one there."
They stopped again, Father turning to stare at her incredulously. "You are crazy, child."
She stomped her foot angrily. "But I love someone here, Father!"
He smiled slyly. "Who?"
She stopped with her foot ready. She wasn't expecting this. Bella put her foot down slowly. "I—I can't tell you," she stuttered.
He crossed his arms and pursed his lips. "Why not, dear? I'm your father, you can tell me anything. I'm always here to listen."
"I can't, it's a secret."
"Well." He walked her to a door, smaller than others, where a maid was waiting. "Tell me later." He gently shoved her to the servant. "Meet me in the dining hall." He walked away, humming. Apparently, her secret didn't matter to him.
"Fool," she muttered.
The servant sewed and cut and tied and trimmed her gown. Once or twice she was stabbed with the sewing needle, and each time the maid urgently said she was sorry, but never checked to see if she was alright. When the young blonde girl was done, she stepped back and said in a soft voice: "Well, Your Highness, see how you look."
Bella went to the huge mirror and gazed at the beautiful girl in the reflection.
Her long auburn hair was curly down to her hips; her eyes were weary and blue. But her dress, oh, her dress, was gorgeous! Soft pink and in so many layers! Little magenta Roses clung to each wave—like pink ocean waves. On the waist was a ribbon in a bow, and her sleeveless dress showed her nicely curved shoulders. It was a sight to be seen. Edward would love it.
"Oh, it's beautiful," she breathed.
The maid bowed low. "I'm glad you like it, Your Majesty. Should I call your father?"
"No!" She spoke a little too loudly. The maid jumped. "I mean, no. No thank you, but I'd like to keep it a secret. Thank you. It's so pretty. What is your name?"
The maid jumped again, and she pricked herself with her needle. "Uh—Jessica," she stammered nervously. She sucked her thumb anxiously.
Bella smiled and curtsied, almost tripping on her new gown. "You are in my debt, Jessica. Thank you so very much for this dress."
Her eyes widened. "No, thank you, Your Majesty! That is very kind of you!"
So for the last hour, Jessica and Bella talked softly to each other as the maid undressed her from the ball gown to her regular dress. Then a man-servant knocked and entered. He bowed so low his nose touched his knee.
"Your Highness, his Majesty the King requests you return immediately."
Bella sighed. "Thank you, I'll be right there."
She said her thanks to Jessica, picked up her skirts, and followed the man-servant to the dining hall. "May I ask your name?" she questioned the servant.
He didn't look at her, and he straightened his back slightly, like he thought he was superior. "Brady, my Lady."
Bella didn't answer because they reached the door to the dining hall, and Brady left without a word or a bow. There was a flicker of anger in her chest but she dismissed it with a roll of her eyes. She knocked on the door, heard the "Come in," and entered. Her parents were sitting at the long wooden table, waiting for her.
Was he here? Bella scanned the room. He usually was, pretending to sweep floors so he could see her. Now the hall was empty except for her and her parents.
She pulled out her chair, listening to its squeal, and sat down.
"Where were you, Isabella Marie?" Father demanded.
Charlie Swan, the king of Swan Kingdom, was staring icily at her with his blue eyes. He was tall and blonde, but his temper was short.
Why he was mad, Bella didn't know.
Her mother, Renee, was the opposite of him. She had long auburn hair, like her daughter, but had green eyes. And she was looking curiously at her. She didn't seem to be mad, so Bella was getting worried. Did she do something wrong?
There was something wrong, though. She became friends with the maid, Jessica, and she wasn't the only one.
She stuck her chin out defiantly. It seemed she inherited her father's traits. "I was getting fitted, Father. As you told me."
He blinked, smothering the rage. That was good. Bella paid no attention to the food in front of her. Then he cleared his throat. "It took awhile, don't you think?"
"The maid took a long time. She said that she wanted me to look my best, even if it's not the real thing."
"Isn't that nice, Charlie?" Mother intervened. "You're going to look beautiful for Benjamin's ball, Isabella."
Still, Father wasn't satisfied. Bella didn't know why yet. How could he be angry, when there was nothing to be angry about?
"Well, let's talk about why you want to bring a certain someone," her father pressed. He was actually looking for a fight.
Bella avoided his question with another. "Why aren't I allowed? Is everything alright, Father? You seemed stressed."
"I am fine," he snapped loudly, very forcefully.
Mother gave a sharp inhale of breath through her nose and glared at her husband. "Do not yell at my daughter, Charlie," she growled.
"I am her father and I can do what I please." Father furiously poured himself tea. "She is going to that ball whether she likes it or not, guest or not."
"But Father—" she began in a high-pitched, irritated tone. Why wasn't he letting her? What was with this impossible attitude?
"No," he snarled. "No guests. End of discussion." His voice rose. "Cook, bring wine!"
But Mother wouldn't give up. Whether fighting for her daughter's right to bring the certain someone, or the yelling, Bella didn't know. "Charlie, don't you think you're overreacting?"
"No, I don't think I am, Renee," he drawled. "Leave me in peace. Bella." He stared hard at her, and she returned the glare unflinchingly. "No guests."
Mother's nerves snapped. "Go play with your knights!" The queen slammed her fist on the table and left, letting a trail of metaphoric steam. Angrily she fixed her crown as she slammed the door.
Father stared after her with a mix of rage and astonishment. He huffed and exited through the kitchen door, before any cook could bring the wine.
The elegant table stood with the delicious food untouched. It was cold and silent.
So Bella sat there, all alone, feeling guilty. This was her fault. Her fault because she formed a friendship with a maid. Her fault because she made her father mad and Mother upset. Now they were going to separate, she knew it. Oh, if only Edward was there! He would stop it. At least another person—anyone in the world! But she preferred Edward.
Shaking, she stood, stumbling towards the door. Then it opened in front of her face. She squeaked and jumped backward, tripping on her dress. To her surprise, whoever entered caught her. Oh no! She knew—anywhere from anyone—those hands.
"Good evening, Princess," said his honey-sweet voice. He raised her so they looked in each other's eyes. How beautifully green they were.
She gulped. "Hello, Stable Boy."
He smiled. "Are you ever going to call me by my real name, Princess?" he asked.
She grinned, running her hand over his smooth face. He frowned, but only for a second. His mouth slowly turned up at the corners, and he put his hands around her waist. He loved her back from then on.
They kissed. Their lips fell in place, locking together, threatening to never let go—never to separate—never to be broken apart. It was official—Bella, the princess and heir to the throne; Edward, the servant—together at last.
She had loved him for as long as she could remember in her twenty years of life.
Finally, as if it had been forever, Edward pulled her away gently. No!
"I'm sorry, Princess," he whispered. She grabbed his hand before he could go.
"Stay with me," she pleaded. This was a perfect moment.
He shook his head and unclasped her hand. "I can't, Bella"—that was the first time he used her name! She felt butterflies fly wildly around her insides—"it's forbidden. You're supposed to marry a prince." He smiled weakly. "I am no prince."
"You are to me. I can change the rules! I don't want to marry a snotty prince! Please, Edward, I want you!" She ran to him and wrapped her arms around his waist and braced herself. Nothing came but his voice.
"You cannot. You might be able to persuade your parents, but the prince you're to marry would never agree." Then he pried her fingers. "I'll get someone to clean," he muttered…and left. She was alone.
Her legs seemed to fail her. Just a second ago they felt each other's feelings; next he said they could never be together. She sat on the floor, never to see the rest of the world again. She still sensed his lips on hers, his warm calloused hands. She would sit here until he came back. Waiting for a life time, never to find love. He was her lover; she was his. No one would be as perfect as him.
Another servant walked in, taking no notice of her, and washed the tables. Then another…and another, each cleaning a different meal. One hummed quietly. It soothed Bella for a second, then that feeling was instantly gone when the maid was hushed.
Then a hand touched her shoulder. Jessica was standing above her, a solemn, sad smile on her face. "Lady, you must get to bed. Come, I'll escort you." So she did, helping her princess up, then an arm around her shoulder to steady her. Soon they reached Bella's room. Jessica undressed her, and closed her shutters. Bella blindly climbed in her big, four-poster bed.
"Good night, my Lady," murmured Jessica, blowing out the candle next to the bed.
"Sweet dreams of broken hearts, Bella," she said to herself. But expecting to stay awake, she fell into a dreamless, black sleep. Plain as death. That's how her heart felt. Hollow with pain. He loved her; she loved him. That's how it should be, no boundaries. Was he sleeping dreamlessly?
A/N: Well, that's my first chapter. I hoped you liked it and that you'll read more! ;)