Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters: ) Stephenie Meyer does. – Lise

1801

"Oh, my lady!" Mrs Christbell exclaimed and rubbed her temples, "What would madame say?"

"She wouldn't because she wouldn't see me!" I said, flicking my messy hair away from my face.

She braced herself to look at me again and immediately did a crucifix, "How are you going to answer to your father? The Swan family ancestors? Your elders?"

I shrugged, "I can't because they're up in heaven and if you could, tell them I bid them well up there and not to worry about me because I'm having a good time now." I said, and rushed away down the hall of stairs as quickly as these annoying dresses could lead me, hiding an amused smile as Mrs. Christbell exclaimed at the top of her voices, "Remember the ball tonight, Missy! Madame Renee wants you to be there!"

I waved my hands dismissively, "What did you say, Mrs. Christbell? I'm sorry, I can't hear you." I sneaked into the kitchen and a gruff voice said, "She said to attend the ball, Isabella." Phil, the cook looked at me.

I sighed, "Of all people, Phil. You have to lecture me about going to a silly ball? I thought you hated them!"

"I still do, but it's fun to see people suffer down there." Phil said, laughing, and I blew a whiff of my fringe away, "I would call you a sadist, if not for the fact that you taught me how to cook."

Phil took out a pie from the oven and I rose to take a look, "Apple pie for tonight's ball? You're losing your touch, Phil. The last time you made beautiful chocolate truffle cakes that made people worship you."

Phil motioned to me to look carefully and I did and my jaws dropped involuntarily, "Okay, I'm sorry. They'll still worship you. What you lack in physique. You sure make it up in desserts." Phil was a tall and lanky, a little too lanky I should sure, but he was nice and was an extremely talented cook who carries a torch for my mother. Too bad my mother hated desserts and loved music more. And Phil, was horrible at piano, he only knew how to create weird, loud clanging noise that causes a bad headache.

I personally could testify to that.

"Isabella? What are you doing down here?" Renee, oh, I meant my mother, waltzed in looking dreamlike and lost, 'Shouldn't you be down there at the ball? Come now, I'll get Mrs. Christbell to get you ready."

So there you go, I was unceremoniously dragged off by a beaming Mrs. Christbell who couldn't wait to get her hands on me.

-

"Is that her?" I heard faint murmuring and I hid behind my fan even more, aware that there were many eyes on me.

I took a deep breath and did a fine job of steadying myself as I walked down the stairs, the last time I tried to walk down the stairs in my manor in this dress, I fell on my bum. And it' was so painful that it wasn't even funny.

Which was just an hour ago – which would also explain why I was maintaining a cool composed face.

"Look at her, she's so arrogant! Not even a fanciful smile. Are we not worthy of Isabella Swan?" I heard one of the girls whispering loudly.

I cringed, this was going to be a lonnngggg ball.