Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight Saga. I also do not own the line, "her existence alone was excuse enough to justify the creation of the entire world," which was taken from the draft of Midnight Sun on Stephenie Meyer's website. No copyright infringement is intended on either.
--
Infatuation
"But, Daddy, I don't want to work for the princess. She's probably really stuck up! Why can't I stay down in the kitchen with you? I'll even be a maid with Mommy!" At the ripe age of six, I was being forced to do what no little kid ever wants to do: leave mommy and daddy.
I had known it was coming. At age six, every slave in the capital of Fourchettes was assigned a place in the castle. My eight-year-old brother Emmett already worked for Princess Isabella as an errand runner, like I would when I was forced to go (gasp!) start work in a few hours.
And, as if work wasn't bad enough, I would be forced to leave the little cottage my parents lived in and move down into the freezing cold basement dorms. I felt like crying.
"You don't have a choice, Edward." Carlisle said kindly, shifting slightly in his crouched-down position, trying in vain to make himself more comfortable. "Whatever King Charles decrees, we must obey. I wish you had been assigned kitchen duty, too, but we both have no say in the matter."
"But it's not fair," I sobbed, tears leaking out of my eyes.
"I know, son, I know." Carlisle wrapped his arms around me in an attempt at comfort. "You can still visit," he soothed, "and you'll get to see me every morning when you stop in for breakfast. Hey, you'll even be working with Emmett! Won't that be fun?"
"Emmett's an idiot," I sniffed.
"Edward," he chided gently, but I could feel the silent shakes of his laughter.
I couldn't help smiling a little too. Everyone knew Emmett had been dropped on his head a few too many times as an infant—that, or the whacks to the head he often got had lessened his brain power considerably.
"C'mon, Edward, lets go pack up your stuff," now that I was in a good mood, Daddy was willing to risk another whining fit. I nodded my head as I resigned and lifted my arms for him to carry me. "Goodness, you're getting too big for this."
I just nuzzled into his shoulder with a little smile. As much as I dreaded tonight, I knew Daddy and Mommy wouldn't deny me anything now.
He carried me over to the little cabin King Charles had given him after he had healed the snake bite that no one else could. Carlisle was technically the head chef, but he had a thing for medicine. He would help anyone for no charge, which was especially useful to penniless slaves. Even at six years old, I knew my daddy was a better doctor than those old leech-using idiots the king always hired. Too bad he forgot all about Daddy the second he had given him the cabin.
Daddy snagged two cardboard boxes from the kitchen as he made his way back to the tiny room I had shared with Emmett until he had been forced to go to work. Once in there, he set me down on my soft little bed and began putting things like my hairbrush and toothpaste in one of the boxes.
"Well," he said, "you won't need any clothes. The tailors at the castle will provide your uniform for you. What, besides bath stuff, would you like to take?"
I just pouted, crossing my arms and staring pointedly at the floor.
"Okay then," Carlisle sighed, "let's see… underwear, check. Your Sesame Street books, check. Pictures of Mommy and I, check. Do you want to take your pillow?"
I winced as he checked off underwear, and then cringed as he mentioned those baby books. There was just something so fun about talking puppets….
Mommy walked in then, carrying a cup of hot chocolate for me. I smiled in spite of myself and reached for the mug.
"Don't feel bad, honey," she tried to sooth. "It won't be so bad. You'll make lots of friends." I snorted into the mug. "Who do you want to take you over to the castle now?"
"B-both of you?" it came out like a question.
"Sure, sweetie," Esme smiled gently.
Mommy put my shoes on me and smoothed out my untamable hair as best she could. She took my now empty mug and put it on the dresser, and reached for my hand. Reluctantly giving in, I let her pull me to my feet and out the door. Daddy followed behind us, carrying the two cardboard boxes that held my whole life.
Mommy kept up her attempts to cheer me. She failed. "You'll get to share your room with Emmett again," ulk, I hated sharing a room with Emmett's stinky feet. "You'll make a bunch of new friends," I didn't want new friends; I wanted Mommy and Daddy. "You'll get to meet --well, see-- lots of famous people," stuck up rich people, more like.
By the time she had run out of "positives," we had reached the servants' gate at the castle. A grumpy old woman named Mistress Goff took me from my parents, giving us only a few seconds to say goodbye.
"Remember, I'm always in the kitchen if you need me," Daddy whispered, kissing my forehead.
I nodded, tears trying to escape again, and turned to Mistress Goff. "I-I'm ready, ma'am."
"Finally," she sighed and walked stiffly away.
I waved to my parents and did my best to lug my boxes in my too small arms. I was offered no help.
As she walked and I struggled behind her, Mistress Goff began pointing things out.
"This is the dairy storage. You are forbidden to go here. This is the Hall of Records. You are forbidden to go here. This is the Tapestry Corridor. You are forbidden to go here. This is one of the gardens. You are forbidden from going to any of them." It appeared I could go nowhere.
Finally, feeling bad for me, she allowed me to set my boxes down in a storage closet. It appeared that my dormitory was down the stairs and around the corner from the closet, but she had more to show me before I was allowed to sleep.
She next took me to a small washroom where she cleaned me up, tsking at my unruly hair. I was to meet the princess next. Joy!
We walked back up a dozen flights of stairs before we reached the princess' rooms. Outside the door, she ordered me to bow lowly to the princess and made me practice until she decided the bow was perfect. Finally, she knocked on the door and a footman came to let us in.
I kept my tearing eyes on the ground as we walked in and bowed. I saw the hem of two dresses sitting at a table in the middle of the room.
"Your highness, Lady Alice, forgive me, but this is your new boy… erm…."
"Edward," I muttered.
"Shut it!" she whispered, then said. "…Your new boy, Edward. I apologize for his appearance."
"Thank you," a voice said—no, it wasn't a voice. It was the song of an archangel. Perfect in every way.
I looked up involuntarily. Seated just a few feet from me was the greatest thing I had ever seen. Her existence alone was excuse enough to justify the creation of the entire world. Deep brown locks swirled around her light, heart shaped face. He delicate, six-year-old hands looked softer than the richest velvet imaginable. Her tiny button nose just made me ache to touch it with mine. How was such perfection possible?
She smiled at me, and my heart stopped.
"Hello, Edward," she sang. "It's very nice to meet you."
A gurgling noise came out of my throat.
"You'll be running errands for her highness, Princess Isabella. You will do whatever she, or one of her ladies-in-waiting, like Lady Alice of Agacant here, says." Mistress Goff said.
I nodded stupidly.
Recognizing that I was making a fool out of both of us, Mistress Goff said a long, formal goodbye the angel and Lady Alice, and then shoved me out the door.
She hit me on the head as we walked down to the tailors' area for my clothes, muttering about my stupidity.
Despite the constant pins that I was poked with and the rough hands of the tailors, I barely noticed anything. My only thought was of the wonderful angel a few floors above me.
I was in love.
--
I spent the next five years as an errand runner for Princess Bella. It would probably seem like the most boring job imaginable, but it wasn't. I suppose, for the simple minded slaves around me, it was; but for someone, like me, who recognized exactly how precious, beautiful, and downright smart she was, it was practically bliss.
Too bad she never noticed me.
Nothing much happened in those five years—well, to me anyways.
When I was nine, the royal family of the empire of Volturra, the Volturi, declared war on Fourchettes. It was a tense four months of negotiations, but luckily the Volturi backed off. Soon after, the queen of the nearby country of Denali, Queen Tanya, became our close ally, which would hopefully make the Volturi reluctant to strike again.
In the castle, nothing much happened—just the regular gossip. Lady Alice of Agacant had a crush on Sir Jasper of Lutte, who was going to be Bella's personal guard when he finished training. The queen, Queen Renée, was looking for a new lover. Some of the kitchen slaves had been serving expired pickles to the royal family. Pointless thinks like that.
So boy was I in for a surprise.
One day in February when I was eleven, Princess Bella sent me to get some blankets from the corridor linen closet. My mind was elsewhere, wondering where the heck Emmett had snuck off to, so I wasn't paying much attention.
I swung open the closet door to find said brother in a lip lock with one of Bella's ladies-in-waiting, Lady Rosalie of Maquillage.
"Aaaaahhhh!" I yelped and stumbled back into the far wall.
Emmett tore his lips away from Lady Rosalie's with a seriously ticked off look on his face. "Do you mind?!"
"W-w-what's going on?" I stuttered.
"Excuse me for a moment please, my precious Rose-flower," Emmett cooed and I gagged.
Rosalie giggled softly as Emmett un-wedged himself from the cramped closet.
"What the heck is your problem, Ed?" he practically growled as he reached me. "I finally manage to get her to sneak away with me, and you ruin it!"
"S-s-she's a-a n-noble," my brain was refusing to function properly.
"She likes me, I really like her, what's the problem?" he shrugged. "It's not like she's royalty or something."
No problem with his situation.
"W-why are you in the linen closet?"
"Oh, yes, because most people make out in the middle of the hall. Get a brain, little bro," he rolled his eyes. "Now let me get back to my girlfriend, hmm?"
"Girlfriend?" Lady Rosalie had apparently heard our not-so-whispered conversation.
Emmett winced. "I-I was just saying that to get him to leave Rose! O-of course you're not my girlfriend—unless you want to be." He appeared to be feeling a strange mix of hope and dread.
"Leave, little boy," she commanded me.
I hesitated for a second but decided it would be healthier to go over to the next linen closet than to face the physical pain that was sure to come if I stayed.
I knew I had to hurry. The love of my life was waiting for me—well, the blankets I would bring, anyways….
--
Emmett had, in fact, been chasing after Lady Rosalie since she had first arrived four years ago to serve Princess Bella, he told me later that night in our dormitory. He had snuck over to my cot to whisper our conversation.
"She says that, if I keep her happy, she'll keep me around," he whispered. "When we get older, she might even let me share her room." I winced. That was way too much information for an eleven-year-old, even one in love.
"You're such a child," he chuckled.
--
Emmett's words stuck with me over next few years. I desperately wanted to believe that I had as much a chance with my precious Bella as he did with Lady Rosalie. Well… a boy can wish, can't he?
The next major events in our lives occurred when I was fourteen and Emmett was sixteen. That year, Emmett and I were promoted. We didn't just run errands anymore; we were footmen-dress holders- chair pullers. They really didn't have a name for what we did. I was just happy to have more direct contact with my love.
Also during this time, Lady Alice married her long time crush, Sir Jasper of Lutte. It was just another slap to my face. Technically, the personal guard could not marry the servant of the person he was supposed to guard. It was a conflict of interest. Bella, though, had allowed it. And still she didn't notice me! Life sucks!
The final interesting thing that happened that year was that Emmett stopped sleeping in our dormitory. At first he just gave me vague answers, but finally he said he was staying in Lady Rosalie's room. I had just gagged and ran off. Not only was that completely disgusting, but it was yet another slap to my face. Life stinks.
--
For the next year, things continued on pretty much as they always had: I worked my butt off serving Princess Isabella and she never noticed me. I didn't blame her, though; who ever notices a nobody like me?
Just after my fifteenth birthday, things started to get interesting. It was about this time that a servant named James of Chasseur, his lover, Victoria of Chasseur, and their friend, Laurent of Affreux, came to work at the castle. I had a horrible feeling about them, but I was probably wrong, I hoped. And, who would listen to me anyways?
They never did anything wrong, so I had nothing against them, except my instincts. The closest things to wrong they did were that they never seemed very loyal. Multiple times, I saw Victoria roll her eyes after she turned away from a superior who had just given her an order, James often had an animal-like look in his eyes when he looked at Princess Bella, and Laurent regularly snuck off from work to do who-knows-what. Something just didn't seem right about them.
But even in my wildest dreams did I expect what actually occurred.
It was late one spring afternoon when it happened. Bella, her guard, Sir Jasper of Lutte, and Lady Alice were in her sitting room with only me there to serve. Emmett and one of the others, a boy named Ben, were supposed to be here also, but both had gotten a horrible case of the flu and no one had thought to assign another slave to take their places while Carlisle nursed them back to health.
Just as Alice called out, "checkmate," in the chess match, Victoria walked in and bowed to the Princess.
"Your highness, um… your father, King Charles has requested the presence of Sir Jasper," she said, and, from my position along the wall, I could see her downcast eyes dart around the room.
Looking confused, Bella turned to Sir Jasper, who said, "I cannot leave her highness, or her ladyship," he smiled briefly down at his wife, "without a guard."
Victoria looked like she was about to argue, but changed her mind and said, "I-I'll go see if someone else can guard her highness and her ladyship while you attend to the king." There was an irritated undertone to her voice.
As she left, I pondered what had occurred, and Sir Jasper sat down on the nearby loveseat, breaking protocol by removing his gun holster from his hip and setting it next to him.
Five moves into the next chess match, Victoria returned with James. "Your highness, this is James. He has agreed to watch you and your lady while Sir Jasper quickly goes to see your father. I highly doubt formal guarding will be needed in the five minutes I am sure this will take."
Distracted by the chess match, Bella just said, "go, Jasper," and moved her knight.
"Your highness—"
"It's five minutes, Jazzy," Alice said. "No one's going to kill us in the next five minutes." Oh, the irony!
"V-very well," Jasper said, standing up and bowing out the door behind Victoria.
James smirked at Bella and moved more toward the center of the room. I was glad he had not noticed Sir Jasper's forgotten gun. Something gave me the feeling that James and guns did not mix well.
About a minute after the duel footsteps of Sir Jasper and Victoria had faded completely down the corridor, James moved much closer to Bella and Lady Alice. Nervous, I inched forward as well. James just gave me the creeps.
Suddenly, I saw a flash of silver appear from James' pocket. A knife.
Acting on instinct, I threw myself forward, tackling the monster just as Sir Jasper re-entered, muttering loudly, "I can't believe I left my gun, I'll have make the king wa— shoot!"
I was knocking James down, trying to avoid the knife, as Sir Jasper ran forward. But, instead of shoving Bella out of the way, he tackled a shrieking Lady Alice into the carpet. He completely forgot Princess Isabella: the one he was supposed to be guarding.
In our struggle, the knife got knocked away, spinning across the room to the carpet that covered the far half of the room. Finally safe from the knife, I managed to swing my arm back and slam it into his nose and mouth. I faintly heard his nose break and I felt several teeth break free of his gums.
A black eye later, the monster was unconscious.
Finally remembering to save someone other than his wife, Sir Jasper came over and looked down at the unconscious monster. Pronouncing him satisfactorily knocked out, Sir Jasper jogged over to the windows and undid two of the ties that held the curtains open.
Returning, he told me to move (I did so reluctantly) and unceremoniously flipped James over on his stomach. He bound his arms with one of the ties and his feet with the other before calling on his radio.
When he was finished, he turned to me and said, "thank you for your help."
I ignored him. I could understand that he wanted to save his wife, but how could he just completely forget Princess Isabella like that?
I stood up straighter as more guards rushed in. They put handcuffs on the now groaning James and heaved him out the door, presumably to the dungeons.
As he was being pulled out the door, I began to feel faint. Too late, I realized that James had managed to get me with that knife. My left arm was cut nearly from the wrist to halfway up my forearm. Damn.
As the room swirled, the last thing I saw was the beautiful, anxious face of Princess Bella looking down at me. Incoherently, I mumbled, "you're pretty."
And then I blacked out.
--
I woke up four and a half hours later in my old bed back at my parents' cabin. Carlisle, his bag of herbs by his side, was dosing in the old wooden rocking chair in the far corner.
I shuffled to sit and his head snapped up and he ran over and knelt by the side of the little bed. "No— don't move. You've lost too much blood."
"Wha' hap'n?" I slurred.
Carlisle chuckled humorlessly. "After you knocked out the assassin, you fainted from lack of blood and shock. How on Earth did he cut you that badly?"
"Dunno. Assassin?" Something was messing with my thought processes.
"Oh, sorry, son. I gave you some herbs to dull the pain, but they also made you sleepy. I'm surprised you're already awake. Anyways, yeah, James of Chasseur, it seems, was an assassin for the Empire of Volturra. Aro, the emperor, apparently has a feud with Fourchettes.
"How know?" If it wasn't for the deadening of the pain from the cut and the stitches, I would have been annoyed about how sleepy and scatterbrained the medicine was making me.
"It took a while, but Laurent of Affreux finally cracked under interrogation. The guards arrested him and Victoria of Chasseur because of how close they were to James. It turns out that, while James was assigned to do the actual assassination, Victoria acted as the lookout, and then lured any guards in the area away during the actual act. When Sir Jasper refused to leave, they improvised and sent James in as a 'replacement guard.' Laurent was there as any back up that might be needed and as the person who received and relayed information with Emperor Aro." That explained why I had sometimes seen Laurent sneaking off on his own.
Under the influence of the herbal medicine, I could not concentrate enough to be angry. I knew the three would be executed very soon, and that was enough, for the moment, to pacify my weak body. As I lay thinking about what had happened, the medicine took hold of me and my eyes fought to close again.
"Go back to sleep, son," Dad said. "I shouldn't have told you so much before you recovered."
"Where Mom?"
Dad chuckled. "She's yelling at Sir Samuel of Loup, the head of the guards, for Sir Jasper's actions and for how you were forced to step in for him. It was quite funny to watch, but I had to go care for you. Now go to sleep."
Too tired to argue I closed my eyes, but, before I could fall asleep, I had a thought: even when I had just saved her life, Princess Bella had barely noticed me. Sure, she had looked down, but not in a "you saved my life, I will always remember this," type of way.
As I fell back asleep, I vowed that, one day, despite the overwhelming odds, I would make her fall in love with me. But, if saving her life hadn't worked, I didn't know what would.
Again, this is the prequel to "I Need You to Love Me." If you haven't read it yet, go read it and find out if Edward succeeds. It picks up about two years after "Infatuation" ends.
Shout out and dedication to Paigeisavampire for her review encouraging me to return to this world. You rock.
June