Hey folks. I'm SO sorry it took so long to update, but this isn't exactly a priority, as you know.

Anyway, there's no french in this. And I don't even take French. I'm in middle school, so I don't even have to take a foreign language.

Enjoy yourself. Drink Coca-Cola!

EPOV

"I really do not want to do this," I said stiffly, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Oh, Eddie, cheer up, man!" crowed my servant, Eric. I threw him a glare, and he backtracked. "Prince Edward, you're eighteen now! Besides, there are tons of other men who would pay loads to be in your place. I mean, have you seen the girls here?"

It was times like these, when he was bellowing out his enthusiasm, that Eric's colonial accent was really revealed. Father was all about settling in the Americas, so when Eric Yorkie sailed back to England for a job, he was euphoric. Evidently, Mother thought that I was too pompous, and placed a foolish, overly-buoyant boy to be my servant in the hopes that we could befriend. I did not have time to make friends. My life was already planned out for me: I would rule alongside my father, King Edward Sr., until he passed, learning about the Parliament, government, and the keys to keeping subjects happy. I loved learning the secrets of being a king. The sovereignty, the respect, the grandeur, all of it. But there were downsides to being a ruler. Downsides such as having to have a wife to take as my queen.

So here I was, dressed in my finest ensemble, prepared for my prevailing eighteen-year-old gala. Practically every eminent female in Britain was waiting in the grand ballroom, and I had to dance with each of them.

I groaned, and Eric rushed over to me to brush off my suit. "Come on, Prince Edward, good spirits are essential!" he said cheerily. Usually, Eric's ever-present optimism really did not bother me, but tonight I just wanted to punch him in the stomach, which was very uncharacteristic for me.

Mother bustled into the room then.

Eric scrambled for a moment, and then raised his hand to graze the tip of his eyes in an automatic salute. "Queen Elizabeth!" he said, flushing and lowering his arm. "I mean – Your Majesty. Good evening!"

Mother smiled at him warmly. "Hello, Eric. Is my little Eddiekins ready yet?"

"Mother," I moaned, sending her a malevolent look.

My mother and I often had many disputes, due to the fact that our personalities clashed horribly. She was too relaxed, too lenient and easygoing, while I was so much more formal, so much more callous and reserved – so much more like my father, and my grandfather before him. I could not afford to slacken my decorous manner, because if I did so, the country might get out of hand. A strict government and firm laws were crucial to holding a well-functioning society. It was not like I was heartless – quite the contrary, in my opinion. I was hardly ever ill-tempered, and especially not with my mother. But when it was her idea to host a ball, she had gone way too far.

"Oh, Edward, don't have such a hairy heart," Elizabeth fussed. "I think you will love the girls in the ballroom, oh, they're all so beautiful. When I attended your father's ceremonial gala, I was positive I was one of the only women in the room who was attractive enough for him." She laughed. "It's a good thing that you have a good variety, Edward."

I nodded.

"Do you have your speech ready, Prince Edward?" asked Eric.

"Speech?" I said, bewildered. "No one said anything about a speech."

Eric sent me a panicky glance, but Elizabeth laughed.

"Oh, that's alright," she told Eric. "Eddie will be prepared."

"Yes, I think my speech is quite fluent," I said briskly, raising my eyebrows at Eric, as though questioning his knowledge.

"Yes, yes. I'm quite fluent in my sarcasm, as well, so I'm sure if Edward here doesn't bring any humor to the party, I surely will." Elizabeth smiled.

I chuckled. "I am sure you will, Mother."

Eric glanced at the grand clock. "It's about time for Edward to go out now," he said.

I sighed, and pulled my shoulders back, lifting my chin. A confident air is essential when making a speech, and I had mastered the impression when I was a boy.

"I'll be mingling," said Elizabeth laconically, returning to the appearance she was when she wasn't used to the audience. She turned around, and strode out the door into the ballroom.

"Ready?" asked Eric, grinning.

"Okay," I said, as Eric opened the double doors.

Lots of light hit my eyes. The ballroom was always a magnificent place, and now it was simply spectacular with high, glimmering walls, polished golden floors, and sparkling chandeliers that hung from the ceiling, filled with hundreds of candles. Dozens of people crowded in the center of the room and around the large food tables, and now they were all facing me, their expressions expectant.

"Hello, everyone," I said loudly, making sure people in the back of the spacious room could hear me. "I would like to welcome you to my eighteenth birthday gala, and I cordially invite you to all the wonderful food that I have provided, and please make yourselves as comfortable as possible. I cannot tell you how pleased I am that you were able to come here tonight, and I look forward to greeting you all formally and getting to know you personally. It seems absolutely surreal that I am eighteen years of age now, and I feel like I could celebrate and cheer all night!" I inserted a smile here, and paused while small chuckles of the crowd dispersed. "I anticipate having an abounding rest of the year. I will be searching for myself a pleasant woman to call my wife, and I will do my best to provide a suitable living style for everyone now that I am officially a man in our society. Please enjoy the music and the merriment that I have offered, as my gift to you, and take pleasure in the various festivities taking place around the room. Again, I thank you for attending my celebration, and have an amiable and lovely rest of the evening."

I smiled once more, and the gathering clapped for a moment before the hum of talk broke out in the copious hall once more.

Elizabeth drifted over to me. "Oh, splendid job, Edward!" she praised. "Of course, if you had practiced, it could have been better. But with my training, I was probably the only one who noticed that you hadn't rehearsed it."

I stared at her for a minute.

She fiddled with a string on her dress, not looking at me, until she added, "It was very delightful, of course. I just meant that some practice might have made it perfect."

I nodded inattentively in acknowledgment, and we stood in silence for a moment, Elizabeth still picking at her dress. I watched all the people in the room as they ate and sang together, dancing and laughing. Most of the men present I didn't even know – friends of Father's, dukes, lords, and important authority figures. All of the women were young, even younger than I was, and every one of them was dressed in gaudy gowns, with their hair styled up into a bun.

"Okay, what do I do now?" I asked.

Elizabeth's head snapped up, and then she flushed, mumbling an apology for her behavior. Then she said, "Just go and ask one to dance. There should be plenty of beautiful girls here to choose from." And then she bustled away to go chat with the ensemble that was playing on the platform.

I sucked in a deep breath, ignoring the voice in my head that reminded me how unnecessary this was, and sauntered into the middle of the room, where a short, red-headed girl stood by herself, admiring various paintings. She was wearing a lavender dress that trailed on the floor, and the strawberry curls in her bun sprung when she moved.

When I reached her, I bowed and asked, "May I have this dance?" just as a slow ballad began to play. The girl giggled and nodded, taking my hand in hers.

"My name is Edward Masen," I said, as we waltzed to the music.

She giggled again. "I'm Tanya," she trilled. "Tanya Moore. My father is Fredrick Moore, you know, of the Parliament." She had a high-pitched, nervous voice that didn't really seem to match her attractive features.

I smiled, trying to make her feel more comfortable. I had to be pleasant to every person, because everyone had a choice that could potentially affect my future. I needed to start building my reputation while I could, after all, and now that I was eighteen, what better place was there to start developing my career as king then at my own social event?

"I am very pleased to meet you, Tanya," I said smoothly.

Giggle. I only knew that twelve-year-old girls giggled this much, but I could not be sure that all women did not behave so: the only woman I was ever near was Elizabeth, or maybe the servants around the house. Occasionally, another woman would stop by – a countess, maybe, or a duchess. But never a girl who was not raised to have such underrated manners.

"How old are you, Tanya?" I asked, trying to avoid stepping on her feet. She was not a very capable dancer. I made my voice sound truly curious, and attempted to keep the frustration and exasperation out of my tone.

"I'm sixteen," she said, giggling again.

I nodded apathetically, and then she stepped on my foot. I had to look down to ensure I did not squash her delicate toes, hearing her giggle in my ear.

I snapped my head up, and looked past her. "Oh, I am awfully sorry, Tanya, but my mother is looking for me," I lied easily. "It was an enjoyable dancing with you, and I hope you have a satisfying rest of the evening." And then I walked as fast as I could away from her, looking for Elizabeth.

"Never," I said once I reached her, "make me dance with Fredrick Moore's daughter again."

Elizabeth laughed. "I know, Miss Tanya is such a pleasure to converse with," she said derisively.

"There you go with that sarcasm again," I grumbled, and Elizabeth cackled.

"Oh, Eddie, cheer up, cheer up!" she guffawed. "Just try another girl. Like, Miss Stanley, for instance. She's Old Lee Stanley's girl. The oldest of three, and she's sure a looker." Elizabeth pointed to a dark-haired girl in yellow, with rosy cheeks and a witty smile.

I nodded in appreciation to Elizabeth and headed to where the girl was standing, talking animatedly with a group of older women. When I came nearer she turned around and a small blush crept up her cheeks.

"Miss Stanley, my name is Edward Masen," I introduced when she saw me. "Would you care to dance with me?"

"Oh, yes, a dance would be lovely." She smiled, exposing a row of shining white teeth. "My name is Jessica, by the way," she explained while we began twirling on the polished oak floor. I had to admit, she was a very skilled dancer, and she was able to keep eye contact with me most of the time, but occasionally she had to look down at our feet to make sure she was doing the steps right.

"Did you hear," Jessica said suddenly, "that the princess of France and Prince Jacob Black are going to be married?"

I was taken aback by the direction our conversation had taken. "No," I said, bemused. "Why?"

"Why not? I just thought that since France and Belgium are so far apart, that the prince was more likely to wed in someplace a little closer," Jessica rattled off. "But of course, I've heard that King Charlie and King Billy are supposedly very close friends, and that their children had been set to marry since they were born."

I just stared at her while she jabbered on. She was probably completely unaware that I was who she was talking to, except she kept a firm grip on my hands, and we kept on dancing.

"…But I mean, who wouldn't want to marry the princess of France? I've heard she's one of the most legendary princesses in all of history. Of course, she's beautiful, classy, kind, and I've heard she's very funny as well, but – like I said earlier, I think – it's just that France and Belgium are so far away from each other!"

I raised my eyebrows, trying to communicate with her nonverbally that I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. It seemed I couldn't get a word in at all while she was talking, as she talked so fast, but I found my chance here. "Er, who is the princess of France?"

Jessica gasped in genuine astonishment. "And here I was, thinking that everyone knew the name of the French princess! Isabella Swan. Well, you might have heard of her older brother, Prince Emmett." I tried to shake my head here, and tell her I'd never heard of Prince Emmett, either, but Jessica kept on talking. "…Prince Emmett supposed to be really well known for his expertise in searches and in battles. He's said to be really brave, as well, so I'm sure that you and he would get along wonderfully if you two ever met."

She paused, and it was clear I was supposed to insert my opinions here. "Oh, yes," I agreed; though I had no idea what I was agreeing to, because Jessica's fast speech was so hard to decipher. "Yes, I am sure that, um, that Prince Emmett and I would, um, become the best of friends."

Fortunately, the song the ensemble was playing came to a close. I stepped back and bowed, and Jessica smiled again and curtsied. Then she bobbled off to go gossip with another group of women, and I breathed a sigh of relief. It felt nice to be rid of Jessica, and her tittle-tattle, and even better to be clear of Tanya, and her shrill giggles and toe-trodding.

I was beginning to think that his ball to find me a wife was completely fruitless, until I spotted a tall, slender girl who stood out from the rest for me. She was the only woman in the room who was wearing her hair down, and I could see why: this girl had long, golden tresses of hair that coiled down her back, accenting the scarlet gown she was wearing and the natural way her face looked. She was standing alone by the drinks, so I took my chances and walked towards her.

"Hello." I was growing tired of introducing myself, but with a girl this beautiful, I was sure one last time would be all right. "I am Edward Masen. Would you mind dancing with me?"

"All right," she said, and she took my hand. I lead her into the center of the ballroom.

"I have never seen you before, for I am sure I would have remembered seeing a woman so beautiful," I said, and then I smiled. "Who are your parents?"

"I appreciate your flattering remark," said the girl, "but my parents aren't very well-known. My father works at a bank, and my mother works around the house."

"Oh?" I said. "Well, then surely you have a few siblings that I have heard of before."

"I doubt it." She sighed. "I only have two younger brothers, and they certainly are not old enough, or mature enough, to have been recognized."

"Well then, what is your name?"

"Rosalie Hale." And then she laughed. I was surprised to find that the sound of her laugh was very pretty, and I found myself staring at her. She had striking blue eyes, and a hard gaze that seemed intelligent and exuberant at the same time. "I am seventeen."

Seventeen? This was a nice age, and I realized that I enjoyed being around her. Rosalie was a very good dancer, even better than Jessica was – I was able to twirl her around and she would follow my steps easily, never looking down once. People around us cleared out of the center of the floor to make room and to watch us while we danced.

"You are a very talented dancer," I praised.

"Thank you," Rosalie said. "You are not too abysmal, either."

We waltzed in silence for a moment. More people had come to watch us, creating a ring around the center floor where Rosalie and I almost floated gracefully across.

"So, do you come to balls often, Miss Hale?"

She giggled, but not in an annoying way. More like in a flattering way. "Please, do not call me Miss Hale. You can call me Rosalie, but most of my friends call me Rose."

Rose. I liked it – it was a very fitting name for such a beautiful girl. "You still have not answered my question," I reminded her, smiling.

"Oh, right," she said. "Not often, but I do come to balls and other parties every now and then."

"Oh, well that is nice."

"I suppose so."

We danced in silence again, but it was a comfortable silence. Rosalie's golden hair and her red gown flowed around her as we moved, making an illusion that our waltz was much more complicated than it really was. But then the song ended, and so our dance ended as well.

"It was an immense pleasure to dance with you, Rose," I said, kissing her hand.

Rosalie laughed. "I find you to be enjoyable company," she complimented.

"Do you need a place to stay for the night?" I asked.

"Well, my mother and father are probably awake waiting for me."

"Oh," I said.

"But thank you for the offer, I greatly appreciate it."

"Oh, really, it would not be a problem. In case you did not notice already, I happen to live in an extremely large house." I loved how Rosalie's company seemed to bring out the best in me. I usually was not this… comfortable. I was so used to being so starched and prim, that I did not often get a chance to exonerate myself from all the stress. Just dancing and talking with Rosalie Hale seemed to ease all the strain, unlike Jessica's constant gibbering, or Tanya's irritating giggles.

"Thank you so much for the evening," Rose said. "I had an amazing time. I have had so much excellent food, and have met so many kind people, I do not think that I can thank you enough."

"So you are positive that you do not wish to stay?"

"No, really. I should go."

"Okay," I said. "But be sure to come back, all right?"

"I will," Rosalie promised. "You seem like a very compassionate person, Prince Edward. Despite what I have heard about you, I happen to thoroughly enjoy your company, and I look forward to seeing you again sometime."

And then I kissed her hand once more, and everything was back to the way it was.

Author Note: Yeah, yeah, don't fuss, don't fuss. Rosalie and our Eddiekins are just friends. Keep your hairnets on.

Beta Note: PFFT. That's all I gotta say for Tanya & Jessica. Good Lord, even in the 1800s they are still...well...ridiculous. XD

If you don't review I shall snap your hairnets that will be placed on your head and tie cakes to your back and have Emmett chase after you screaming, "COME BACK MY LOVE!" while Edward, Alice, and I film it and put it on Youtube for the whole world to see.

....Okay, FINE. I can dream can't I? Just review and I won't go all medevil on your asses. :)

A/N: ...Yeah. Okay.

Anyway, review, please.

Song: Heartless, Kanye West