(A/N: Okay, so I'm dedicating this whole story to a friend of mine. Because, even though she didn't give me any ideas or anything I know that she'll appreciate this story almost as much as I do.

Can anyone say medieval?

Also, another two people who I'm dedicating this story to are my global teacher, , for making me study Robin Hood and all the medieval shit that I learned back in sixth grade and reminding me about peasants, lords and ladies, and who definitely would not approve of this run on sentence. Also, Thank you Mrs.G for making me write a letter inviting Zak to the non-existent masquerade. I know the two of you probably would never approve of this story, considering that its rated M and I wrote it, but I am so very proud of my idea. Longest A/N I've ever written. I'm just very excited.

Disclaimer: I am not Stephenie Meyer, nor do I wish to be. I'm content being Lizzi. With that being said I do not own any of these characters. I wish I did, but sadly, they belong to Steph. Also, I don't own Cinderella. I know this has many similarities and the step-whores refer to Bella in a Cinderella-esque way. )

Sweeping the stairs. Not exactly my favorite of the multiple tasks that I had to do on a day-to-day basis, but I didn't really have much of a say. Since the step-hags were in my life I wasn't even sure if I had a voice anymore. They took away my voice, my life and my father. It simply wasn't fair.

I was able to live with it though, to make the best of my grueling hours of slave labor, unnecessary tasks that I shouldn't have had to do. I grew up practically royalty; no one should have been able to take that from me. Yet, Lord Charlie was so blind to the fact that his little angelic stepdaughters we demons in disguise.

"Oh, Cinder-Bella! Stop your day dreaming and come sweep the mantle." Jessica shrieked. She was the stepsister I hated most. She was cold hearted and cruel. She had absolutely no compassion and no understanding. She was also the one who called me "Cinder-Bella" It was ridiculous. She only called me that when she was ordering me to clean the mantle.

As much as I loathed her, I couldn't reject her demands. She would go sobbing to my father. My own father, and tell him that I was bullying her. I could defend myself to no relent and he would still believe her woeful tales. Lord Charlie began to beat me for it after a while. How he could even believe that I would bully anyone is beyond my understanding, however I was forced into complying.

I finished sweeping the stairs in a hurry, and rushed in the back door of the manor into the kitchen where my two step sisters waited one sneering, the other looking at me sympathetically.

"Good morrow, Bella." Angela half smiled at me. I nodded at her, sharing the best smile that I could offer.

"Yes, good morrow, Bella." Jessica sneered in a mocking way. "Now, let's sweep the mantle, shall we? Maybe you'll earn your way to the masquerade ball."

I nodded and began to sweep the thick dust and grime that coated the mantle in front of the cooking fire. Jessica had to go and remind me of the masquerade ball again, hadn't she? Yet another thing that she held over my head, it was another bribe to get me to do all of her chores.

I remember the days when my life was happy. Back when mother and father were together. When I was a child. I distinctly remember spending my afternoons in the bailey, where my mother would teach me the basic principals of English.

My mother, Lady Renee had been a wonderful person, she taught me how to read and how to write. She taught me all the necessary things in life. She even taught me how to make the finest mead. Of course, those things were unnecessary for my lifestyle back then - that's what the maids were for. But, each and every day I find myself more thankful for her teachings.

When I was eight, my mother was beheaded. She was having an affair with Lord Phil Dwyer from an estate just east of ours. She hadn't told anyone except a peasant Victoria who lived on our manor. My mother trusted Victoria, but she ended up being a traitor. She betrayed my mother's trust and ran to my father who soon after had her executed.

Later, my father remarried to a woman so wicked that I don't even recall her name. I've tried to repress thoughts of her but it's hard with her two daughters still present through the house that should belong to just my father and I.

When the wicked woman and her daughters came they took everything from me. They took my beautiful room with the glorious bay window that overlooked the small village in the manor. They took all my books, with lame excuses. "What good is books to a woman whose duty is to server her family?" All those things didn't matter so much to me. What mattered the most was that they took the bailey. They took the one spot my mother and I spent all our time together. They may has well have taken my heart.

The bailey. The trees, they had hung lights on. Lanterns with tea light candles adorned each major branch. They needed something to provide light for their parties. The beautiful pinewood benches they moved to the front of the manor. The birdbaths were completely removed. I haven't seen them since. They took all the natural beauty out of my courtyard, my bailey.

And who was my father to just sit back and let them take what means most to me? How could he watch my agony in silence? It was like some sick part of him liked to see his only real daughter in pain, while his stepdaughters were as happy as could be.

"An arranged marriage, father? You mustn't be serious! Bloody hell!" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Wasn't I supposed to know that I was a part of an arranged marriage? And, yet here my father was just telling me now!

"Edward! Don't say such strong curse words! That's not charming coming from a king to be." My mother Elizabeth reprimanded me for swearing, and I suddenly realized that I had sworn in my mother's presence.

That's not what mattered at the moment, though. Stay on topic, Edward. I told myself.

"To whom may I ask, father?" I sighed impatiently. This was not news that I was pleased about.

"To Lady Tanya. The lady of our neighboring manor." My father's smile was gentle, as if he were happy about this whole miserable situation. As if he didn't realize he was taking away my free will to marry who ever I pleased. "You shall dance with her at the masquerade ball; get to know her a bit before the two of you are wed. If I remember correctly the last time the two of you had spoken was quite a few summers ago? Correct? Anyway, when you become king, she shall be queen."

My father was such a patient and good ruler he deserved the throne more than anyone else, and my mother – Queen Elizabeth, she was by far the best queen that England has ever seen however, they were meant to be rulers, not parents.

How could this be fair? Didn't my opinion on the subject of who I was going to spend my life with matter? I remember my mother once telling me that she and my father had an arranged marriage and they couldn't be happier. It's so common, but I simply couldn't help but think it unfair. Maybe if it was someone other than Lady Tanya.

However, being heir to the throne held a lot of responsibilities and I knew that with that I would simply have to swallow my tongue and deal with all the trials that I was sure to endure.

I sighed as with a nod to both of my parents as if to hold up the white flag. I surrendered. My mother patted my shoulder as I sharply turned on my heel and walked out of the room. I headed to my bedchambers, to spend some time reading and relaxing. All the preparation for the ball and now my marriage was quite taxing.

Just as I had drawn shut the thick wool curtains that hung limply on the wide windows of my sleeping quarters I heard three quick raps on the door. I knew who it was at once.

"Come in Alice." I sighed. I wasn't particularly in the mood for a visit from my cheerful sister but she pranced in the room anyway. She smiled at me sympathetically, she had known.

A sudden spasm of anger shot through me. That traitor. She'd known and she hadn't told me? Alice was my best friend at times and she and I shared almost everything. It wasn't like her to keep things from me and it made me wonder what side she was truly on.

"Good morrow, Alice." I nodded in her direction, not in the mood to greet her joyously.

"Edward, what ever is the problem? Aren't you excided for the ball? I'm ecstatic! It's going to be a glorious event. Cheer up. I came to talk to you about that. I need your opinion on what suit and masque you will be wearing. I've taken the liberty of picking out a few for you, you can pick what you like the best…"

I was suddenly dizzy by my sister's rambling. It was enough to make a man mad. Her excitement rang in every word but she couldn't cheer me up. I was not prepared for the news of today.

Alice seemed to notice something wasn't quite right with me. Her expression slowly turned blank and she took a step backwards toward the door.

"Maybe another time, my brother. I see your mind is occupied at the moment."

With a quick curtsy she left the room and I felt a little guilty. This was not her fault and I shouldn't be taking it out on her. However, doing so got me the alone time that I wanted – needed – to ponder the chaos that was my life.

A king in a few short years, married in mere months. Married. To a woman I barely knew.

In all honesty, I wanted to be with a woman that I could be more than just friends with. I wanted to find someone who I could love, someone who would love me in return, and with Lady Tanya that was simply not possible. She and I would never be more than acquaintances- friends at best.

I knew that I would have to find some way to put my own thoughts on the matter away, though. This was not the time for rebellion. I was soon to be the person who held England in the palm of his hand. I didn't have time to be picky about my wife. I also knew that this situation wasn't all about me. I came second to only my country.

I would find some way to deal.

After I was done moping I had to address invitations to manors for the masquerade ball. The ball was an annual celebration held by my family. It was strictly my family's job to organize, and prepare everything. We rarely enlisted help.

When I was done addressing the letters I was to deliver them.

I sat at the work desk in my sleeping quarters and pulled the candlelit lamp a bit closer- so I had a bit more than just moonlight illuminating the paper – and began to write family names on the envelopes.

I sealed each one with a bit of candle wax; just a personal way of sealing the envelope, because no two people can create the same was seal.

All was well until I came across the name Swan. Swan that name sounded so familiar. Then, it dawned on me. Isabella Swan. The most stuck up, stubborn girl I've ever had the displeasure to meet.

Maybe I would have Alice deliver that invitation.

Or maybe, the Swan manor wouldn't receive an invitation at all.