Chapter 2

It wasn't hard to get a horse borrowed. The guards knew who he was and gave him whatever he wanted, including directions to the Swan Manor. He didn't know what he would say to any of them once he arrived there, or even what he intended to do. His curiosity was slowly morphing into a mild case of obsession, something he couldn't explain even to himself. He just had to have a conversation with Lady Isabella - just one and he'd know whether he was sincerely interested or not.

He only knew that the moment he laid eyes on her by the fountain something caught his interest. Be it her peculiarity or her face, something caught him off guard and he wanted to know more, especially now since learning about the curse.

He tied the horse to a tree at the foot of the manor hill, not wanting to announce his presence just yet, made his way up the incline and across the expansive property toward the mansion.

There were voices and clanking of things everywhere. Servants were yelling. Nobles were yelling. He even saw men running to and from the house around the side. It seemed he had walked into another bizarre scene of chaos, or maybe it was the continuation of the one that had started at the Royal Games. For a few moments he actually feared that the Duke was in fact dying.

Unsatisfied with his location, he skulked around to the side of the manor and made his way near to the back where an open terrace gave him a better vantage point. There the Duke was, lying on an outdoor sofa bed with his daughters and wife all flanked around him.

"We have word that the Bishop is on his way," a servant said, twisting her apron in into fearful knots. She was terrified.

"I don't need the bloody Bishop!" Lord Charles screamed, making the servant jump to tears. "I haven't sneezed in more than ten minutes! Tell him not to bother!"

"Charles!" His wife retorted.

"Papa is there anything you need?" Lady Isabella offered. At the sound of her voice, Edward's ears perked up.

"Yes! I need you to get a husband before I die!" Lord Charles sputtered, knocking his hat off his head in his tantrum.

"I'm sorry we can't be better for you, Father," Lady Alice said. "But we can't help that people are afraid of us."

"There is no curse! I swear to you, if I die today it will be from a heart attack caused by the stress of seeing you unloved!"

As he said that, Lady Victoria fell into a ball of poofy dress on the floor and started to cry.

"Now look at what you've done," Duchess Renee said to her husband, rubbing her daughter's back consolingly.

"All hope is not lost, Father," Lady Alice spoke up. "Sir Jasper promised to call on me today. If not for my stutter, I think we could actually have a good conversation some time."

A strong hand came down on Edward's shoulder then. He spun around in alarm and pressed his back to the wall, even more offset when he looked up into the face of a burly young man who looked like one of the stock hands.

"What'er ya doin' round here?" The man asked.

"Pardon me, Lad. I came by to return these to Lady Isabella," Edward replied, showing the items in his hands.

"You look like one of 'em royalty."

"Prince Edward of Aragon at your service."

The boy passed his eyes up and down Edward and stepped back, unhanding him.

"Why is a prince spying on Lady Isabella from out here?"

"I'm afraid I don't want to alarm her. She seems to be...pressed...at the moment with the matter of her father's death...health. I meant health!" He mentally scolded himself for the gaff. "What is your name, kind sir?"

"They call me Emmett."

"Mr. Emmett, may I interest you in a few pieces of gold perhaps? In return for your silence, of course."

Emmett's eyes sparkled at the gold coins Edward pulled from his pocket, and without needing to think it over, took the three pieces and barreled away. He stopped after a few steps and turned back.

"That's Lady Rose's blanket you carry," he pointed out.

"Oh is it?" Edward asked, holding it out. "What of it?"

"Give it to me. I should like to return it to her mi'self."

With one eyebrow arched, Edward handed the blanket over to Emmett and watched him walk around to the back of the manor a good distance away from the terrace where the family was still fussing over the Duke.

Moving strategically, Emmett made himself visible to Lady Rose from afar. He raised the blanket in his hands and she waved him over.

As if on auto-pilot, Emmett hurried toward the terrace once he had her attention. Chuckling to himself, Edward noted in a low and amused voice. "That bastard has eyes for Lady Rose."

Just as Emmett offered the blanket to Rose and bid her hello, she opened her mouth and snorted out a round of heinous, high pitched giggles. Edward saw the deflection in Emmett's expression, an embarrassment he tried to mask by smiling and nodding reverently, but when Lady Rose couldn't contain her blushing or excitement after a good minute of hair raising snorting, the poor lad excused himself.

Cringing until the last second when Lady Rose shut her pretty trap, Edward held his hands over his ears and prayed for her to stop. When finally she did, a servant came out onto the terrace and announced Sir Jasper's arrival. At once, Alice jumped out of her chair and nervously balled her fists into her skirt.

"Alice, just breathe," The Duchess advised her daughter. "Girls, we ought to give Alice some privacy."

"Follow me, Jacob," Isabella chimed as she danced behind her mother, poking playfully at the air. Edward noted that there was no other man out there besides her father.

"Jacob?" Edward questioned himself, ponderously.

As they were walking back into the house with The Duke in tow, Sir Jasper materialized, and much to Edward's delight, another scene played off right there in plain sight. He almost couldn't believe his luck.

Sir Jasper removed his hat and bowed gallantly before them all.

"Greetings, My Lord and Ladies," he said. The Duchess gave a quick curtsey and Lord Charles waved him on as he moved into the house.

"You ladies are ravishing today as always," he said to the sisters as they passed him on their way inside, one at a time.

"Lady Victoria," Sir Jasper greeted. "How are you today?"

Of course that meant that Victoria had to stop and acknowledge him in return, which meant an acute slaying of nerves, which then froze her on the spot, lungs included...and Lady Victoria fainted.

Because they knew her so well, Isabella and Rose were prepared. Rose simply caught her from behind, breaking the fall, lowered her body to the ground and took her by one ankle. Isabella took the next ankle and together they dragged Victoria's lifeless body into the mansion; many apologies and giggle snorts offered to the good Sir in the process.

"Be careful with her head, Jacob," Isabella called, and again Edward noted with a curious tilt of his head, that there was no other male around at that point besides Jasper.

Visibly stunned, Sir Jasper turned to Alice and shook his head. "I don't think I'll ever get accustomed to that. I didn't even touch her this time."

"W-w-w-wwell," Alice managed to say, blue-faced and blushing. "S-sh-shee c-c-c-cannnnn't help it. S-s-sssshe isn't acc-c-cc-ccccc-cccustomed to m-m-men wanting to t-t-t-ttttalk to her."

"And is Jacob the name of Lady Isabella's imaginary friend?" Jasper asked, scratching his head with one eyebrow in the air. "I can never remember."

"W-wwhen he's g-g-ggggood."

"And when he's bad?"

"M-mm-mutt!"

Edward almost burst out in giggles himself. That certainly explained why Lady Isabella was talking to herself at the fountain and why she had been screaming at the curtains in the ballroom the night before. She had an imaginary friend. How peculiar!

Amazing also, was the fact that Alice was fine before Sir Jasper arrived. She had been talking with her family without a single stuttering syllable. Now as Edward looked on at Sir Jasper's face, he could see sense his discomfort at Alice's awkwardness.

"Please, let's sit," Jasper suggested, leading her further toward a chair. "I'd like you to try relaxing for a bit. Please don't be overwhelmed by me. I hear when you speak with your sisters. You are fine when you talk to them. Try to relax with me."

So they sat, but it didn't help her to relax. In fact, the more Jasper focused on Alice and the closer he inclined toward her, the tighter she clutched her skirt, the smaller she squinted her eyes, and the harder the words came out. Her face went from blue to purple, and before long, spit bubbles were landing on Sir Jasper's nose.

It was awfully stressful to witness and Edward found himself empathizing with Alice and her sisters the more he learned. Especially so when Sir Jasper got up to leave only twenty minutes into his visit, having had no luck in conversing with Alice. It was much too stressful for her and he hated to cause her stress. He bent sweetly and kissed her hand, begged her not to worry, then left with a promise to call on her again.

The moment he left Alice broke down in tears, and because this kind of thing happened so often, a hoard of servants were waiting nearby with hot towels, scones and tea in order to make her happy again. Alice didn't want tea this time, however. She threw a scone across the terrace in frustration, lifted her dress from around her ankles and ran into the house, crying.

Something broke inside of Edward. He wasn't amused anymore. In fact, he felt guilty for ever finding humor in what he now understood to be their pain. He walked around the manor to the front with Lady Isabella's book held close to his chest, deep in thought. He stopped by a window when a voice from inside caught his ear. He couldn't see inside because the window was too high, but he knew the sound of her voice by then.

"You'll never run away from me, will you Jacob?" He heard her say. "You're the only one who will love me despite my curse. Who knows, even if you die in my mind before you turn 50, at least I'd have had your company for more than thirty years by then, and that's all I need really. That's good enough for me."

Sullen and dejected, Edward moved to the front door and set her book gently on the step. He then made his way down the hill to his tied horse and rode back to the palace.

XXX

King Carlisle was beside him with disbelief when his son came to him with a proposition two days later. He sat with his head held down, clutching both sides of his head as if he was sick.

"Your mother will have a heart attack," Carlisle groaned. "This is preposterous."

"It isn't, Father, not when you think of it objectively. It will give you what you want and Aragon will benefit. We can forge strong ties with England this way. The Duke is of great importance in their parliament. He will be very pleased and will do anything to make sure at least one of his daughters is happy."

"The Duke will be dead in two days!" King Carlisle yelped.

Letting out a deflating breath of air, Edward shook his head. "I won't believe it until I see it with my own eyes. Even if he does die, I am sure the King will see to it that his family is well looked after in his wake. He wants to help Aragon, Father. King Aro will not resist aid to Aragon if I am married to a noble member of his Kingdom."

"Edward you are forgetting the most important thing here. If you marry this girl, for whatever reason, you too will become...cursed. I will not let you sacrifice yourself like this...not even for Aragon."

"I was sacrificing myself anyway through a marriage to Elizabeth. A marriage without love is sacrifice, and who said this was only for Aragon's sake?" Edward answered, turning his stare out the window in the direction of Swan Manor.

"You couldn't possibly love this girl already. You haven't even met her officially, haven't had a single conversation!"

"I may not love her now, but there is something unspoiled and unmistakably innocent about her. She is untouched and beautiful. I will love her. And since when does love matter to you? You were about to marry me off to Princess Elizabeth knowing I did not love her."

"Point taken, but what about the curse?"

"I care not of the curse. Like I said, I'd have to see it in order to believe it."

"But the signs are everywhere!"

"What signs? The only sign I've seen is four young girls who have become victims to public humiliation. The only reason they are unmarried is because they were made un-marriable by the public and by their own awkwardness. Lady Rose laughs like a dying boar...a wretched sound if there ever was one. Interaction with Lady Victoria is downright impossible because of her knack for fainting when in close proximity to the opposite sex. Lady Alice develops an instantaneous stutter out of sheer anxiety and Lady Isabella has befriended an imaginary man to compensate for her loneliness.

"These are the reasons they are not married, Father. They are odd and out of place, hyper and uncultured, not to mention...social misfits. It has very little to do with any curse if you ask me. Someone has to break this cycle, and I am willing to try."

"Why do you care about this so much?"

"I can't explain it. Let's just say something happened inside of me the day I saw a girl splashing about by herself in a fountain, and it's something I'd rather like to see again."

"You are serious about this."

"I am."

"Is there anything I can say to convince you otherwise?"

"You know I won't do it without your consent, Father. I am asking for your consent."

It took the King more than a little while to come to terms with what his son was asking of him. He paced the room agitatedly, pressed his thumb to the bridge of his nose, adjusted his robes and tugged at his collar until he broke out in fetid perspiration. After much harrowing he nodded at his feet and called his son to him with ringed fingers.

Clasping Edward's shoulder, he said, "You were willing to give yourself for the sake of Aragon. How can I deny you this? You still have Aragon at heart even though your methods are unorthodox. I pray that your suspicion about this curse is true, son, or God help us all. At least I'll be well dead and gone by the time you're 50. The only problem now is the matter of you bearing no heir to your throne. Aha! Perhaps you can bear a son with one of your mistresses! I can arrange mistresses."

"Father..." Edward warned, to which Carlisle raised his hands in surrender.

"I will break the news to your mother. Wish me luck. Go now, go to the Duke as fast as you can. Lord only knows how much time he has left."

And so, Prince Edward rode back to Swan Manor like a man on wings, cutting through the beating wind as it slapped his face and tousled his hair.

The Duke almost did die of shock when Edward presented himself. He fell into his armchair and stared at Edward with wide, glassy eyes before he could find his voice.

"My Isabella..." Lord Charles muttered, clasping his heart as if it hurt.

"Does it please you, My Lord?" Edward asked, concerned. "I promise to give her everything deserving of a princess and wife who will one day become the Queen of Aragon. My eyes have found great favour in what they find when they look upon her."

At the time, Lady Isabella was out in the gardens with her sisters...and Jacob, trying to give Alice lessons in talking to Jasper without a stutter. She even let Alice use Jacob as a stand in.

"It's not quite the same, Bella," Alice complained. "He has to be a real boy for it to..."

"Shhh! Don't let him hear you say that!" Bella hissed.

Back in the sitting room, the Duke and Duchess were most relieved that Edward showed up with his proposition when the girls were otherwise occupied, since this would have surely brought the entire house falling down with yet another charade.

"My Prince," Lord Charles enthused, kissing the back of Edward's hand. "Please tell me this isn't a trick. There have been way too many tricks involved in this family's history, and as much as you bring music to my ears right now, I still have my dear Isabella's happiness to consider."

"There is no trick, my Lord. I am committed to this decision and have my father's blessing, King Carlisle. As long as you agree, and as long as she will have me, I am hers."

Tears sprung to the Duchess' eyes then. She clutched the bodice of her dress and took a deep breath, then threw herself into Edward's unprepared arms.

"Of course she will have you," Renee wept, knowing for sure that she had heard Isabella mistakenly call Jacob by Edward's name at least twice already. "Just sign here."

The fact that a drawer of written up contracts was ready and waiting for an unlikely occasion like this didn't sway Edward in the least. He smirked in amusement and at their distrust, but read through the contract, skimming over details about the dowry, preferring that his father deal with those parts.

"Do me a favour, My Lord," Edward said.

"Anything."

"Date this contract forward to the 15th," Edward said. "On that day you will sign with me. In the meanwhile, let me take it to my father for further review and I will call again tomorrow."

"You want us to agree in writing on the 15th? But...that's the day...after my birthday."

"Precisely," Edward answered with a cheeky wink. "I expect you to be here when I come calling on the 15th, My Lord. I must head back now. Please give my regards and best wishes to Lady Isabella and if for some reason there is a change of heart, send word and I shall come sooner than tomorrow. Good day My Lord, My Lady."

And with a dutiful bow, he left.

Stunned to immobility, the Duke and Duchess stared after the leaving Prince with dropped jaws.

"Did you see what he just did?" The Duke asked in awe. "That boy just dated the contract to the day after my birthday, knowingly."

"He doesn't care about the curse," Renee whispered, touching her throat emotionally.

"Better than that, my love," Charles said with a smile. "He doesn't believe a word of it. He is strong in faith. Sweet, merciful Ale. I never thought I'd see the day."

XXX

Walking back to the house, Alice grabbed Isabella by the arm and pointed around the side of the manor.

"Isn't that...?"

The man that swung himself over the top of a horse then galloped through the high gates looked just like the Prince of Aragon.

Frowning at the disappearing horse, Isabella stood on the spot while her sisters all rushed inside hurriedly. She wasn't sure she wanted to know why the Prince was at the manor. In fact, she was determined not to think that his visiting was for any reason other than to make sure she had gotten her book. Emmett confided in her that he was the one who left her book on the front stoop two days ago. Even so, why would he come all that way just to make sure she had gotten it? And why was she standing there thinking that his visiting had anything to do with her at all?

Ever since the waltz at the royal ball she couldn't get thoughts of the prince out of her head. Thoughts that shouldn't have been there if she knew what was good for her. No commoner wanted anything to do with her, far less for a prince...regardless from where.

If she was honest with herself however, she'd have admitted to the secret joy she felt in her heart when King Aro announced the engagement of Princess Elizabeth to Prince Phillipe. But still, what good did that joy do when no part of Prince Edward would ever be hers, even if she thought she had seen something like interest in his eyes when they waltzed?

That's because it wasn't interest, Jacob piped up in her head. It was curiosity. It's not the first time someone has thought you to be strange.

Now that she had stood on that spot and watched the horse disappear from sight and watched every last speck of dust settle back into place, she turned to take the terrace steps.

When she looked up her entire family was standing at the top looking down at her with faces gone ashen white. Renee seemed to be crying. In fact, Lord Charles seemed to be crying, and all three of her sisters were staring at her with eyes as large as dinner plates.

"What is it?" She cried out in alarm, running up the stairs to clutch her father's hands. "Papa, are you ill?"

"You're never going to believe it," he said to her, squeezing her hands then cupping her small face. "My child! The Prince of Aragon just came by to ask for your hand in marriage."

Victoria fainted then from the anxiety, and Rosalie started to cry.

"What on earth are you talking about." Isabella muttered, stepping away from Charles defensively, a sharp frown creasing her pretty features.

It was impossible, preposterous even. It was a joke and they were the cruelest, nastiest people on the face of the earth for teasing her like that.

"Stop it!" She screamed at them, feeling tears sting her eyes. "What an awful, cruel joke! Why do you tease me?"

"Bella!" Alice cried out, grabbing her sister by the shoulders. "It's not a trick! It's the truth! The prince just presented himself to father."

Rosalie wailed harder.

Withdrawing into herself, Isabella became a shell of shock and defensiveness. She didn't trust it. She didn't know if to believe it or to allow hope to start setting in. That only meant opening herself to disappointment. Disappointment lead to pain - a kind of pain she knew she could live without. She was already resolved to the idea of life without companionship. Why would this seed of hope come now to taunt her like this?

"He doesn't know about the curse, does he? That's why he proposed. Why didn't you tell him, Father?" She was screaming now, fright claiming every pocket of emotion within her. "Why didn't you tell him!"

"He knows," Lord Charles answered, pain crossing his face as he observed his daughters sadly. This should have been happy news, but all he saw was fear and pain and years of damage in motion. Victoria was on the floor. Rosalie was bawling her eyes out in jealousy. Alice was trying to be brave but he could see fear in her eyes too, fear for her sister lest this never came to pass; and Isabella was a boiling pot of suspicion and anger. She was too scared to believe it was true.

"He knows about the curse, Bella. He doesn't care about it," he said to his daughter.

"Everybody cares," she bit out. "Everyone cares! The only one who doesn't care is Jacob."

"Jacob isn't real, Bella," Renee answered, worriedly.

"Hush!" She hissed, before escaping on light foot to her room.

"Mother!" Alice shrieked, running behind her sister. "Get the maids to bring her some tea!"

Hours passed and still Isabella refused to emerge from her room. She was afraid that coming out meant having to face inevitable disappointment, the moment when Edward would realize his mistake and change his mind.

It wouldn't be the first time a contract for marriage had been nullified in her family, only this time she was old enough to feel the shame when it happened. This time she actually cared about the outcome.

The only reason she left her room the day after was because it was her father's birthday and possibly his last day alive. When she entered the living area and saw her father lying on the sofa bed with the Bishop at his side, she fell to her knees and wept against this arm.

"Papa, I'm sorry."

His hand came down on her head gently and he smiled weakly. "You don't need to be sorry, my Bella."

"Are you dying, Papa? Are you ill?"

"I am not, except with worry for you. I feel fine. I just don't understand why you are so upset about all this. I thought you would be happy."

"I'm afraid to be happy." She wept softly. "If I let myself be happy he will change his mind. I just know it."

"Here," he said, handing her a scrolled letter. "He called again today and left this for you."

Wiping her tears away she blinked at the scroll being handed to her and took it wordlessly. She sought solitude by the window where she unraveled it and read silently, not noticing when her mother and sisters entered the room.

My Lady,

I pray that I have not caused you alarm by asking for your hand so suddenly. I hoped only to bring you joy and perhaps some promise of a future happier than the one already mapped for you. I will call again tomorrow whence I shall sign the contract together with my parents and yours, hoping for your willful agreement. Should you accept my offer, please send word to me today in writing, or else I shall take your silence as a sign of your rejection and will disturb you no more. Let not your heart be troubled about the curse, for such troubles do not reside within mine. What resides in mine, my dear Lady, is your smile, your face and a charm with which you have stolen my affections. I await your word. I await the blissful moment whence I shall meet the girl I found by the fountain.

Your Prince,

Edward.

"Well?! What does it say!" Rosalie squealed, bouncing over Isabella's shoulder. She all but grabbed the scroll out of her sister's hands and read it with scanning eyes. The note was passed from hand to hand until finally they all looked at her in expectation.

"What are you going to say?" Victoria asked.

"Fountain?" Isabella whispered to herself, staring off into space, still thinking about the Prince's words. She remembered the day Edward arrived at the Palace. She had gone to sit at the fountain, hoping to sneak a closer peek of the prince, having heard numerous rumors about him - the most prevalent being that he was promised to Princess Elizabeth. At first sight she thought him beautiful but quickly dismissed it, feeling foolishly optimistic. He stood true to every rumor about his poise and absorbing demeanor, she observed, exuding an easy grace that came off as charming instead of narcissistic. Princess Elizabeth was disgustingly lucky. Not wanting to be caught staring, she had sought distraction with an ever reliable Jacob who had done something rather silly in the water fountain just then. What Isabella hadn't realized just mere moments after, however, was that the Prince of Aragon had noticed her too.

"Oh Bella," Alice crooned, pulling her back to the present moment. "Please, for heaven's sake! Write him back! Write him back and tell him yes!"

"He wants you to write back," Rose said with a small smile. She had since stopped crying, deciding to be happy for her sister instead. Maybe this was new hope for them all.

"What?" Isabella floundered with a flickering frown.

"He said, 'I await your word'. He's hoping you say yes."

"Of course he wants her to say yes," the Queen interjected, moving over to put a soft hand on Bella's cheek.

After biting on her lip long enough, the beginnings of hope started claiming the young girl's heart. She couldn't believe she was allowing herself hope. She couldn't believe she was allowing speckles of fluttering joy to prod at her belly's insides. With a hand pressed to her stomach, she pushed inwardly against the anxiety and closed her eyes. When she opened them again her family members were staring back at her expectantly, waiting, clutching to each other.

With a sharp nod, a racing heart and nervous swallowing of nothing at all, she heard herself breathe out the word, "Yes."

All the women at once dashed to the cabinet to fetch paper and ink, squealing and bouncing so hard their curls started unraveling.

They crowded Isabella at the long dining table as she dipped the pen in the ink. After nine botched attempts, yelling, pushing, and torn paper everywhere she shooed them all away so that she could attempt it alone in quiet.

Not particularly eloquent with words, she decided to keep it simple.

Dear Prince of Aragon,

As long as you have not been tricked and sincerely want my hand, it is yours.

Your Lady,

Isabella.

It could have been her imagination, but she thought she heard a faint tinkle of tiny bells and a whispering breeze when she dotted her name. Looking over at her father on the sofa bed, she smiled as a strange sense of renewal washed over her. Lord Charles III sat up and frowned as if he had felt it too. Then after exchanging an eerie glance, they laughed together and sent the letter off to Prince Edward with the messenger.

XXX

When Lord Charles III opened his drunken eyes on the day after his birthday, he knew that if the curse was ever real it had been broken with Edward and Bella. He was the first man in decades to offer himself willingly to a woman of the Dwyer lineage without trickery or secrets involved. Special too was his strong conviction having knowledge of the curse beforehand. When Isabella finally accepted it in her heart the chimes broke the shackles.

"I love you, Papa," Isabella said to her father on that morning, thrilled that he was still alive and clutching his sword as if ready to fend off death the moment it reared its ugly head, "even if you are a drunken Duke."

Later that day, Duchess Renee said to Edward when he visited with his parents to sign the contract, "She requested that you not see her until the wedding. As you can well guess, she is superstitious and doesn't want anything to ruin this."

"I understand," Edward said with a polite nod. "Letters will suffice in the meantime, especially since I am due back in Aragon tomorrow. Please give her this for me and tell her that I await our first conversation with bated breath."

Renee took the golden locket from Edward and nodded. "I will see that she gets it."

On that day the marital contract was signed and sealed by the exchange of gifts between the two families. All the while Isabella sat at her window and stared out at the fields, a silent smile painted on her lips as she thought of her Aragonite Prince and the gift he had already given to her and her family. No material offering could top that - the death of the Dywer curse.

Even if it had never really existed, at least in the minds of all those in the kingdom, the curse was already dying a slow but natural death since the Duke was still very much alive and a new wedding was announced. The Canterbury Kingdom was all abuzz in disbelief and Isabella couldn't wait to put the final nail in the curse's coffin with the birth of her first son. That would show them. She could barely contain the emotion.

XXX

The weeks passed by in a chaotic whir. Isabella was the bride to be but it was the other women in the house who suffered multiple and sporadic meltdowns. The wedding was to take place in Aragon since that was where Isabella would then reside and eventually take the throne. The preparations were handled with extreme care and precision, and not surprisingly, since the announcements had taken place, the Swan household was the new point of interest to all in the Kingdom. In fact, this wedding created such an uproar it got more attention than the local royal wedding itself. Princess Elizabeth was confused and couldn't help but purse her lips in irritation at the thought of Prince Edward - the man she would have been marrying, though she knew a marriage to him wouldn't have generated quite this much interest. He certainly had a way of stealing the show, but it was Isabella who held the spotlight. She couldn't wait for the Swans to be swept away to Aragon for their wedding so that she could re-claim the spotlight again and finally be rid of them.

Two days before the wedding, the Aragonite cavalry arrived in England to collect the bride to be and her family. All those from the British Kingdom who were invited started making their way across as well.

Only when she entered Aragon did Isabella feel the first real prick of nervousness. Her new wardrobe suited her fine but she was suddenly self conscious as scores of people lined the streets and jostled each other to get a peek of her. She had felt inadequate most of her life, but this was nerve wrecking. If it wasn't for their loud cheering and waving of handkerchiefs, which she decided was acceptance, she would have been terrified. She had never missed her sisters at her side so badly.

When finally she was safely ensconced in the palace she took a moment to exhale and reassess her surroundings. What she had seen of the country so far was charming and she had no words to describe the lush comfort of the Palace. However, most important to her was the note and single rose waiting for her on the foot of the bed.

Welcome home, My Isabella.

I count the moments until my eyes are graced with your face again, whence I shall properly acquaint myself with my fountain girl and have the honor of taking her hand in mine. I trust your journey was comfortable and that you found favour with your ring as I do with mine. Rest well, My Lady. Until tomorrow.

Your Prince,

Edward.

She fingered the engagement ring on her finger then and smiled another secret smile. There was very little the prince could do that she wouldn't find favor with.

XXX

"Jacob," she whispered, standing alone in her chambers in her wedding gown the morning after. "I know we haven't properly talked about this yet and I know that since my engagement things have been chaotic and strange between us, but I need to thank you. You were there for me when no one else was, and the only one who really accepted my idiosyncrasies without judgement. Please don't think this is goodbye. It's only goodbye for some times, since my days will now be filled with Edward. You'll always be the best friend I ever had and I will love you always for that. I hope you understand and I hope that I have your blessing. I am happy, Jacob, and I know that's important to you."

An alien but familiar warmth touched her face then and like every time it had happened before, her heart jumped, her eyes closed and she smiled.

"Thank you," she whispered one last time, dabbing at the small tear under her eye.

Then with renewed confidence, she opened the door and let the hoards of family and servants barge back in to whisk her out of the palace and to the church.

XXX

She didn't need the organ music to pull her up the long aisle. The strong, cloaked back of the man at the very top pulled her forward. She felt his energy though he didn't look around. His head was held high and forward, his shoulders square as he knelt on the step before the altar.

She walked, one slow step at a time as she made her way to him, every step taking longer than the last. The music faded behind the periphery of her consciousness and the staring faces of the congregation blurred under the heavy veil she wore. The Duke squeezed her hand, making his presence at her side known, but Edward was all she saw. He was all she felt. And when finally her feet put her at his side and she was helped into a kneeling position beside him, every cell in her body ricocheted at the sheer closeness of him. She wanted to look at him so badly, wanted to see his face again but was unsure if she was allowed to.

Her heavy dress was poofed and spread out all around her which put more distance between them, but somehow his fingers found her gloved ones across the space. Her heart all but stopped its erratic pace when she felt his hand clasp firmly around hers, a touch both alien and familiar at the same time.

"Hello," she heard him whisper under the priest's chanting, squeezing her hand gently to offer encouragement.

Her heart resumed its chaotic drumming again when suddenly she remembered the hundreds of eyes prodding at her back. This was it. This was her wedding day. This man beside her, this Prince, would be her husband in a few minutes and she would assume a new life in a new country with new responsibilities. The curse suddenly felt like a thing so far away it almost never existed; an inkling of an experience so many worlds away she wouldn't have guessed it had once shaped her so resolutely. As much as she had always been a spectacle of some sort all her life, for the most part, she had felt invisible. Now she wasn't. She was being presented in front her her family and his, in front of the council, their parliament and some of hers, in front of a nation. She was about to become the Aragonite Princess.

As if sensing her anxiety, Edward squeezed her small hand again. This time she turned her face and looked up at him, seeing him for the first time since the day at the Royal Games. He smiled and the pressure from his hand turned to a caress, churning her anxiety into calm. She was again able to tune out the demands of the congregation at her back once she re-focused on him. It was in that moment she knew she was ok. He was confident where she was scared, powerful where she felt inadequate, and steady when her insides reeked of turmoil. She felt safe with Edward. She felt safe.

The ceremony was long and various rituals were passed, then finally Edward was able to lift the veil away from her face and look into the eyes he had been longing to see for weeks. He was not disappointed. She was just as beautiful as he remembered, even more so now that she had desire and recognition in her eyes.

He held her face gently between his hands and tilted her up to him, gazing down at her as he closed the space with his lips.

"Hello, fountain girl," he whispered against her mouth before kissing her.

Could it be that a woman of the Dwyer lineage was married in such fashion, without the groom being hoodwinked? Or was this still a trick of some sort, played on the bride this time instead of the groom? Because surely, as Princess Isabella stood there in the arms of her prince in front the congregation of applauding citizens, it was still hard to believe. It was more than just a dream come true. It was an answered prayer.

Edward had no qualms about whisking his wife away immediately after the ceremony. It was customary in those times for the bride and groom to consummate the marriage right away. So when he lifted his bride into the carriage, slammed the doors shut and started mauling her with kisses, it came as no surprise to her - though perhaps she wasn't sure how to respond.

"Pardon me, Isabella," he breathed coaxingly against her lips, feeling her hesitation. "I'm Edward, Prince of Aragon. It's nice to finally meet you."

Giggling at his silliness, she braved the space between her fingers and his hair and touched him shyly. At the sound of her laughter he stopped and drew his face back to look at her. "Thank goodness you laugh nothing like your sister."

That made her laugh even harder, breaking the ice a little more.

"Forgive my appetite," he said with a crooked smile. "The past weeks have been long."

"The past weeks?" She answered with a smile. "I've waited my whole life for the curse to be..."

He hushed her with a finger to her mouth, shook his head slightly and replaced his finger with his lips. She knew then that there was to be no talk of the curse ever again.

The wedding garments were painful to cut through. There were layers and barriers of tulle and trimmings, bows and lacings, under-dresses and stockings and alas...the corset.

Her chest was already spilling out before he had the chance to tear it open at the back, heaving under his insatiable gaze. Isabella shocked herself.

The weeks of anticipation had built enough tension to have them both tearing at the seams, especially for Edward who had admired her from afar but could never get close enough to actually talk to her, let alone touch her.

Now she was in his bed, his wife, shy but willing, and wanting him back. He passed his eyes over her pale, vestal body and smiled, thankful now that the rest of the Canterbury Kingdom was foolish enough to believe in that wretched curse. That made her his to claim.

He knew she was unsure of herself. He knew she was trying to be brave, could see the bashfulness control the very way she lay beneath his absorbing gaze. He bent over to kiss her reassuringly, slowly, and slowly he would go until every knot in her body untied to meet his.

He felt her relax as the minutes rolled by, as they discovered the newness of each other with nothing but time to spare. Moments faded to minutes, minutes to hours, slow to intense and tenderness to sweet pain. Her world exploded as he claimed what was his, making sure to touch every inch of her both inside and out. She would soon grow accustomed to him and he had no doubt that there would be love. He was pretty darned sure he loved her already.

When it was over and he fell to her side, stroking strands of wet hair away from her face, something occurred to him.

"I have one question perhaps," he said with a finger in the air.

Pulling the covers up to her chin she smiled a lazy smile and looked at him in answer.

"How does Jacob feel about all of this?" He asked, concerned.

The fact that he should ask at all, that he acknowledged Jacob as a part of her life without ridicule or judgement touched her, though she couldn't hide her embarrassment.

"Is it alright for me to ask about him?" He asked, suddenly unsure of himself, worried that he had gone too far.

"You don't think I'm peculiar?" She asked.

"Oh yes I do," he said teasingly, and when she frowned he poked her cheek and kissed her nose, chuckling lightly. "And that's one of my favorite things about you, dear Isabella."

"Really?"

"Absolutely."

"Jacob is...happy, as long as I am happy, I suppose." She dared to answer, feeling strange to acknowledge her friend to her new husband.

"That is acceptable," he said, smilingly, touching her nose gingerly. It would soon be his new favorite part of her face. "You must give him my regards and assure him that I intend to take very, very good care of you."

He was prepared to accept the idea of Jacob for no reason other than the fact that he was an essential part of who she was, and a significant piece of the puzzle he couldn't wait to put together.

"And Edward?"

"Hmmm?"

"You can call me Bella."

Feeling pleased with himself, he smiled a huge smile. "So much progress in just one night. Thank You, My Lady, for saying yes to me."

"Oh no, Edward," she answered, propping her body up on her elbows with new conviction in her eyes. "Thank You."

THE END

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A/N: That's it! I hope you enjoyed! I thoroughly enjoyed writing it, and sincerely hope that I've done your prompt justice :) Thank you for reading.