God I hate fucking corsets, I swear first chance I get I'm gonna kill the fucking retarded bastard who came up with them. They're so freakin tight, you can barely breathe. The only reason I'm even wearing one is because of my oh so loving mother. She thinks its absolutely necessary for a 'young lady' to wear one.

Well, I think I'm certainly not a lady so, I don't have to wear one. I don't know any ladies who curse and swear, my mother has a problem with that too, wouldn't mind getting dirty and would rather just wear some simple trousers and a shirt, rather than a dress. But ,my mother doesn't get my logic, so I'm stuck with the cursed corset.

You're most likely wondering why I'm listening to my mother ,more like obeying, and not just ditching the dress. She couldn't do a thing about it, right? Well, your dead wrong. The reason why I have to listen to her, is because she's the queen and she can have the servants forcefully make me wear the dress. And they will help, even if they don't agree, if they don't want to end up in the dungeons.

I was snapped out of my thoughts by an old weathered voice, that I've known since I was just a kid. The voice that always scolded me, and praised me, that was always there. 'Princess, the queen and king demand your presence before them in your father's study.' Irida, my maid and caretaker since I was a baby, always spoke to me with a little authority in her voice. She knew that my parents, King Charlie and Queen Renee, wanted her to look after me not just with a mother's kindness, but a little authority as well. They knew she wouldn't use the power over me in a bad way.

'Thank you for informing me Irida. You may go now, don't work too hard.' She smiled and curtsied, then left to do her chores. I didn't use my power to command most of the servants to do stuff for me, but sometimes when I see a person who thinks the world is all about them, they see the other side of me.

I walked down the corianders of the castle, lost in my thoughts as usual. The cream colored walls with not many decorations or pictures, were boring. And often made me fall asleep.

I guess I haven't introduced myself well. My name is Princess Isabella Marie Swan, or Princess Bella. Call me Isabella, I'll have you locked up in a fucking dungeon before you say or think another word. I used to have my mother's chocolate brown hair, but it has darkened to my father's ink black hair. I have naturally clear pale skin, and chocolate brown eyes. I'm about 5'7", taller than my mother, but shorter than Father. I like to read, I'm quiet, but far from shy. I'm not afraid of spiders ,or anything, well maybe one thing.

The mahogany doors came in view, I took one breath and walked in. My heart immediately started racing when I saw the serious expressions on their faces.

My father was sitting in his chair, his shoulder length black hair perfectly straight. His chocolate brown eyes locked straight onto mine. When he stood he would be about 6'2".

My mother's mahogany hair was cascading down her back in soft waves. And her blue eyes were glazed over, which indicated that she was in another place, another time. She was standing near my father's chair at 5'5". When my father gently shook my mother's arm she came back.

'Bella dear, we must inform you about something very important.' My mom started off. Wait, inform, not discuss, which means I have no choice in what is about to happen. This is going to be bad, I could feel it. I mentally braced myself, but no amount of preparing could brace me for the next words that came out of Father's mouth. I was never expecting it.

'We have decided to get you married.' What the Hell, marriage? I could feel my world crumbling down around me, I couldn't move. I didn't want to marry some crazy rich guy, just to make my parents happy. Well, maybe I would've if they had been nicer to me, and if we were very close. Truth be told, I haven't had a single choice in my life, because of them. They planned everything out for me.

What's the point of living when you can't really do what you want. I mean if you're a 8 year old kid, you need some rules. But a 20 year old adult, I don't think so.

Anyway, maybe they chose someone I'd actually like. It's highly unlikely, but who knows, well except them.

After a minute I finally got out of my state of shock, and could speak again. 'So, who exactly am I getting married to?' When I saw their faces brightening, I knew I wasn't going to like this. They were clearly relived that I indicated that I was getting married to this person that they chose. Not gonna happen, if I didn't like said person.

Then my mother said two words that made me sure I was going to get out of this somehow, no matter what it takes.

'Edward Cullen.'

Since you took the time to read this, it wouldn't hurt to review. Should Bella just end up married to Edward or should she somehow fall in love with Jasper like I originally planned, or should I just stop writing this story.