A/N: So, this is a new story. Don't worry, I will never neglect The story of Isabella Hale. But this has nestled itself in my brain and I can't get it out, so I decided to just write it down and we'll see what happens. It's very different from my other story, but this fleeting thought has taken hold of me, ready to take me on another adventure, just like The story of Isabella Hale and I hope you will enjoy it just as much.

Disclaimer: SM owns everything.

''Sweetheart, you have a visitor today.'' A gentle female voice floated toward me and a second later I felt a soft hand on my shoulder. I didn't turn around and continued to stare at the blossoming garden in front of me.

''Isn't that nice?'' the voice urged, willing me to respond. I didn't so she walked around and knelt down in front of me with a kind smile, blocking the garden from view. I felt somewhat irritated that she had interrupted my quiet time.

I briefly considered ignoring her, but decided against it. I didn't get many visitors and when I did they weren't accompanied like this person obviously was.

''He says his name is Mr. Whitlock and he really wants to meet you, '' the nurse informed me. I had never heard that name before and I couldn't fathom why this stranger would like to talk to me.

''Why?'' I asked, my voice a little hoarse from lack of use.

''I'm sure he'll tell you that himself, sweetheart,'' the nurse said. She got back to her feet and beckoned someone behind me to enter.

''Miss Swan?'' a soft male voice filled the air and I was forced to turn my head around to see who that voice belonged to. A tall man with blond hair hovered in my peripheral vision. He seemed to be in his thirties and had a kind smile that crinkled his blue eyes. I dipped my head to acknowledge him. He sighed, seemingly relieved, and walked toward me with an outstretched hand.

''My name is Jasper Whitlock,'' he announced. My eyes flickered to his outstretched hand and I hesitated before I took it.

''I'll leave you two alone,'' the nurse said, but I wasn't paying attention to her. ''I'll stay close in case there's anything you need.''

''Thank you for you help,'' Mr. Whitlock said. The nurse left with another kind smile and I heard a door close behind her.

Mr. Whitlock took the opportunity to sit down in a nearby chair. He looked around for a moment.

''It's very peaceful here,'' he noted after a minute of silence.

''I suppose,'' I answered. I look at the blossoming garden again. It was the middle of August, so the weather was nice. I could sit here on the porch and enjoy the fresh air and lively colors around me. The nurses had hoped that it would help my recovery.

''How are you feeling, Miss Swan?'' he asked. I chanced another look at him from the corner of my eye and he was watching me intently. I didn't answer him, though the look in his eyes suggested that he knew more about me then he led on.

For a moment I thought that he would start asking questions that I didn't want to answer, so I was glad when his decided on another course.

''You must be wondering why I'm here,'' he continued. He seemed very comfortable with himself and his voice had a pleasant warmth.

''Yes,'' I said, unable to deny it.

''I'm aware that this is a little unconventional, '' he started and I turned my head to look at him properly for the first time. ''We usually communicate through letters, but I believed this called for an official meeting.'' He glanced around and I realized what he meant. I was unconventional. My situation was unconventional.

''But I'm here to tell you that you have been accepted at NYU,'' Mr. Whitlock continued and I felt my eyes widen at his words.

''Excuse me?'' I said, too shocked to remain polite.

''You seem very surprised,'' he noted.

''I should be,'' I said, sitting up a little straighter. ''I never applied.''

''I beg your pardon?'' he replied politely.

''I never applied to NYU,'' I repeated. ''Actually, I never applied anywhere.'' I looked around again and he followed my eyes automatically.

He then opened his suitcase and pulled out several forms.

''You are Isabella Marie Swan, right?'' he checked and I nodded. ''I have your application right here, signed and all. From what I gathered you seemed set on NYU.''

I sighed and looked out at the garden again. ''Once,'' I admitted.

''Your dreams have changed?'' he asked.

''My life has changed,'' I corrected him. I lifted my hand and gestured around me.

''Yes,'' he nodded. I could see the sympathy in his eyes when he regarded me and I wanted to turn away from it, but for some reason I didn't. ''It seems that things have not been easy for you.''

I didn't respond. My current state should be proof enough.

''Overcoming adversity shows a strength of character,'' he said.

''I'm not strong.''

''You're still here, aren't you?'' he replied with a kind smile. I knew he was trying to make me feel better, but this man didn't know me. He had no idea how wrong his assumptions were.

''Is a fallen kingdom still a kingdom?''

''Everything can be rebuilt,'' he answered and I actually had to laugh at that. It was a hollow laugh without humor and it sounded strange and alien to my ears.

''Brick by brick, I presume?'' I said, not waiting for an answer. ''Disguise an ordinary man and crown him king. There, sit on the ruins of your predecessor and claim what was never yours!''

I stood up on shaky legs and stretched my arm out to touch this faceless impostor.

''As long as we can pretend they will be none the wiser. And maybe, someday, someone will come along and destroy all that you have built. All that you have fought for. But fear not, if you die you will truly follow the path that you've so willingly chosen. Then and only then can you be king, revered by your loyal subjects.''

I stood there on wobbling knees, my heart hammering and my breath labored. A kingdom that went up in flames and on the ashes stood a man, faceless and alone, ready to fool the world and rebuilt his kingdom on the blood of those that came before him. A strong pair of hands curled themselves around my shoulders and pulled me back into my chair. I flinched, but let myself be dragged back into my rocking chair.

''Please, calm down,'' a worried voice urged me. ''You are still weak.'' I looked into the alarmed eyes of Mr. Whitlock and stared.

''Are you an impostor?'' I asked him. ''An ordinary man, claiming to be a king?''

''I am not a king,'' he answered, his eyes serious and wide. I searched his eyes and saw nothing but truth reflected back at me.

''No, you are not,'' I agreed, a little calmer. I turned my head to the side, measuring him. ''Who's your king?''

''I have no king,'' he replied and I shook my head.

''Every servant has a king and every king has servants,'' I told him.

''You think I'm a servant?''

I reached out and picked up the papers that lay on the small table between us. I held them up to show him. ''Yes.''

''Then wouldn't NYU be the kingdom that I serve?'' he asked and I considered that for a moment.

''You tell me,'' I said and he sighed. He seemed to have aged a little in the last few minutes and I knew how he felt. Riddles and quests did that to you. But he was not the one that needed to solve the riddle, so he had no excuse. He stayed silent for a while, contemplating his next words.

''You cannot tell me,'' I answered for him when the silence stretched on. ''Your loyalty does you credit.''

He looked away and frowned at the garden.

''You want to cage this broken bird and drag her to your kingdom?'' I asked and his eyes found mine again. ''Does your king enjoy cruel amusement?''

'' The word broken suggests that something can be fixed,'' Mr. Whitlock replied. ''A wingless bird may sing.''

''Then it's not fixed,'' I pointed out.

''Perhaps he's under the impression that she is no ordinary bird,'' he said. ''Perhaps he believes she will rise again.''

''And there it is,'' I said and I leaned back in my chair. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion before he seemed to realize what I meant. I leveled him with a stare, but to his credit he didn't look away. ''Who's your king?''

''You just complimented my loyalty,'' he reminded me.

''You want to lure me to your kingdom under false pretenses?'' I asked. ''Chivalry is dead.''

''No false pretenses,'' he said, picking up the papers. ''You are very much wanted.''

I sighed, closed my eyes and then opened them and stared at the garden in front of me again.

''Even if I wanted to, and I'm not sure I want to, I could not afford it.''

''Everything is already paid for,'' Mr. Whitlock informed me.

''I haven't applied for a scholarship either,'' I said. ''And no one would spend that much money on me. They know it's a waste.''

''Apparently someone out there is willing to take that risk,'' he said.

''Those dreams have died,'' I said, trying to make him understand that he was wasting his time on me.

''But you haven't,'' he said and I turned my head again.

''Yes, I have,'' I said and his frown reappeared. ''I'm dead.''

''You seem very much alive.''

''The flesh is unwilling.''

''I'd say it's rather willing,'' he disagreed. ''Is the glass really half empty here?''

''Half empty, half full,'' I muttered. ''It makes no difference. The problem lies in the measure itself.''

''No, it all depends on how you look at it.''

''No, half will always be half,'' I said with a shake of my head. ''Be either full or empty. Make up your mind. Half is worse than nothing.''

''Half represents life itself,'' he said.

''You win some, you lose some, huh?'' I said. ''Then what do you hope to gain from this?''

''I thought we had already established that I'm merely a loyal servant.''

''Then what does you king hope to gain?''

''Happiness,'' he said and the word seemed to float around us for a prolonged moment.

''Then he should find another bird to sing to him,'' I eventually answered. ''I have no desire to become your king's entertainment.''

''Perhaps he can be your king as well,'' Mr. Whitlock said.

''My loyalties can't be swayed nor bought.''

''Then where is your king?'' he asked and I knew we had finally reached the road I was unwilling to take. I stayed silent for a long time, but eventually I answered him.

''Dead.''

I am aware of the fact that this is a very vague and confusing start, but it think it sets the tone for the rest of the story. Naturally I have planned things a little ahead, but there are several storylines that are still quarreling inside my head. Please let me know your thoughts on this first chapter of my new story. Is this something that sparked your interest? Does it make you curious to read on? Let me know and leave a review. Thank you in advance and I'll update the next chapter soon.
For those who also read The story of Isabella Hale: I'm busy writing the next chapter, but this one sort of snuck up on me and I had to write it first to create some space in my head. Don't worry, I'll update that story very soon. The chapter is already halfway done.
For those who do not read The story of Isabella Hale: check it out! :)

TTFN! X