As soon as news of the tournament hits the village, the people go into a frenzy. Sometimes, I think they enjoy it more than we do. Not that it's much of an enjoyment to me at all. I barely remember the last tournament to honor my cousin Tanya. I was merely a child, but the only image I can remember is watching the winning knight bowing before us and offering his undying love and devotion to my cousin. That love did not last long. I do not envy my sisters.
A fortnight before the start of the tournament, I venture into the village to visit with Jacob, and hopefully see Isabella again. When I come upon them, they seem to be quarreling.
"You cannot use that, Jacob," Isabella says, grabbing a sheet of shiny metal. "It's promised to someone already."
"For what?" He asks.
"Good morning," I say, stepping into the workshop. "Am I intruding?"
"Never, Your Highness." Jacob laughs and bows. Isabella avoids my gaze. "Excited for the tournament?"
"It is only the highlight of my existence," I tease. "It is a pity you cannot enter, dear friend, I have seen you fooling with the other men in the village. You are quite the swordsman."
"Thank you. Please excuse me, I must find another piece of metal." He eyes his sister and leaves.
I turn to Isabella. "Will you be attending the festivities? The gala at the castle tomorrow evening?" A pretournament ritual in the kingdom. My father puts on a wondrous party for the people, one of the only times he interacts with them other than to collect taxes.
"I do not know." She begins to assess the piece of metal she's stolen from Jacob.
"Oh?" I am disappointed, but I try not to show it. "If I command you to attend, will you?" I smirk.
"And if I do not, would you have me thrown in the stocks?" There is a small smudge of ash on her cheek, just below her eye. I reach out and brush it away.
"I would not dream of it, Isabella. I only wish to enjoy your company."
"I cannot imagine my company would be that much of an enjoyment." She shakes her head. "Besides, I have nothing suitable to wear. I cannot very well go to the castle wearing this." She gestures down to her dirty dress, filled with holes and char marks.
"I think you look beautiful."
She rolls her eyes at me as Jacob returns.
"Come, I have some things to show you," Jacob beckons, leading me into the room where he keeps all of his projects. He shows me his latest shields, swords, and armor, and when we return, Isabella is gone.
"What's her story?" I ask.
"Who? My sister?" He smiles. "You fancy her."
"I can't ask a simple question without accusations?"
"Of course you can, Edward. Isabella's a special girl, a spitfire, aye. You will not find another like her in the whole kingdom." He leans over the table. "Father's death affected her more than anyone. They were very close, you see."
I nod. "Thank you for your hospitality, Jacob. I hope to see you both at the gala tomorrow." With a smile, I leave.
The moment I enter the caste gates, I search for Alice. I know she can help me.
I find her in the library, in her favorite window seat, tucked away with a good book.
"I require your assistance, Sister," I say.
"With what?"
"I need a dress."
"What ever for?" Her eyes grow large.
"For Isabella."
She smiles, understanding my request without another word.
"Follow me." She sets her book down and leads me to her quarters. Her wardrobe houses many beautiful dresses, but one in particular strikes me. A deep shade of green, like the leaves on the trees, with splashes of gold around the sleeves and neck.
"That one," I point to the dress. "May I borrow it?"
"It's hers. I do not need so many dresses."
Later that evening, I package the dress in a box and sit down at my desk to write her a letter.
Dearest Isabella,
I hope to see you this evening at the gala.
Sincerely,
Edward
The next morning, I wake with the sun and send a messenger with the package to the village.
Now, the wait begins. And as the castle awakens with the bustle of preparations for tonight's festivities, my thoughts cannot help but wander to a girl and the green dress I hope to see in mere hours.
I spend the afternoon walking the grounds with Mother, picking flowers in the garden and talking.
"I worry for you, Son," she says, twirling a delicate rose between her fingers.
"Why is that?"
"I worry for your heart, dear boy." She smiles sadly. "When you were a child you had this amazement with the world. You fell in love with the beauty of it all. Growing old steals that spark away from most of us, Edward. When you take the thrown, when you marry..."
I stop. "Remember when you used to chase me around the garden, and tickle me until my face was red from laughter?"
"Those were some of the loveliest afternoons of my life."
I smirk and stalk toward her.
"Edward, don't you dare." She backs away, fighting a smile.
I lunge toward her playfully, and she begins to run around the bushes, skirt in her hands just high enough to skip through the grass. We round the rose bushes, laughing and out of breath, until we both collapse onto the blanket of leaves.
"See?" I say. "Your spark is still there, Mother."
"Thank you for reminding me."
"I'll always remind you."
"And I you." She grabs my hand. "I am so proud of you."
I retire to my quarters to prepare for the gala. I plan dress in gold, hoping to match the accents on Isabella's dress. Before I reach my room, I stop by Rose's room. She stands before a mirror, fixed on her reflection. She wears not a gown, but a simple peasant's dress. Beautiful, but simple. Not typical for a royal.
"Father will love that dress," I tease.
"Oh, hush. Emmett got it for me. Cost him most of his wages."
I sit at the edge of her bed. "What are you doing, Rosie?"
"What do you mean?"
"Do you really think Father will allow you to marry a servant?"
She eyes me in the mirror. "Not anymore than he will allow you to marry a blacksmith." She cocks her eyebrow.
I sigh. "I see Alice couldn't keep her mouth shut."
"We're sisters, you tell one of us you may as well be telling both." She turns. "So tell me, dear brother, why can you choose your fate but I cannot choose mine?"
"I wish nothing more than for both of my sisters to be happy. And if it were up to me, I would allow you to marry whomever you choose, whether it's a King or a stable boy. But in our present circumstances..."
"The will of the heart matters little, I know." She glances back at the mirror. "I cannot live without him, Edward."
I leave her in peace and retire to dress for the gala.
Before I leave my room, I glance outside to see the carriages and horses arriving. Ladies and gentlemen strut into the palace in extravagant dress, laughing and talking amongst themselves.
It is easy to see the line between members of court and the commoners. The trail to the village is thick with people walking to the castle, their best dress something a courtier would wear to work in the kitchens, if they were to work at all. I search for a glint of green in the moonlight, hoping Isabella has changed her mind and attend, but I only see shadows.
For the first hour of the gala, I parade around, attending to royal duties and entertaining the guests. The courtiers spend most of their time at the north end of the great room, while the villagers stick mostly in groups toward the south end. No mixing of the groups. An unspoken rule, I'm afraid. It does not seem like much of a celebration to me with the nobles glaring at the villagers, and the villagers nervous to take a step out of line.
Some of the knights participating in the tournament have arrived early. I sit in a corner, drinking ale and watching them try to impress my sisters. Neither of them seem interested, but it is entertaining to watch.
Then, as the music starts, something, or rather someone, catches my eye at the doors. A beautiful girl in a green dress, with gold trim. Her face and hands void of ash smudges, her hair half up in a lovely mix of braids and soft curls. For a moment, I'm so stunned by her beauty that I cannot speak or move, but when I can, I stand.
The chatter between the guests lulls, every eye on her, every eye on me, as we meet in the middle of the room. One royal. One commoner, although in my eyes she is far from common. I doubt anyone would call the night sky common. Nor the bright, shining sun or a glass-like lake. Yet she was all of these things. Beautiful, mysterious, serene.
"My lady," I say, bowing to Isabella as I take her hand. "May I have this dance?"
"Everyone is staring," she says, blushing as I spin her around the floor. My hand is tight around her waist, holding her closer than most others dancing.
"Let them stare."
She averts her eyes to the floor. "The dress was completely unnecessary, but thank you, Your Highness."
"Edward, if you please." I smile. "And it was completely necessary. Although it matters little to me what you wear, it was the only way to get you here."
"And I am sure your evening would have been completely ruined if the blacksmith's daughter had not attended the ball." She shakes her head and finally looks up at me.
"It would have been," I speak slowly, entranced by her eyes. Soft and strong all at once. "Your eyes are captivating."
"Stop," she says.
"Stop, what?"
She cocks her eyebrow, a challenge I am not quite accustomed to. "Your flattery will get you nowhere with me, my Lord."
"Will it not?" I fight a smirk.
"May I?" A young woman steps beside us, bowing. I feel as though I know her.
"Lady, uh..." I begin.
"Margaret," she answers.
"Lady Margaret, of course. I would be honored to dance with you later this evening-"
"Now is quite alright," Isabella says, stepping aside. "Please." She allows Lady Margaret to take her place and disappears from the dance floor.
I do not see Isabella again until after supper. I find her with Jacob, enjoying the ale by the large stain glass window at the front of the hall. Large, swooping curtains sweep to the side, framing it in thick, red velvet.
Just as I approach, Jacob leaves to refresh his glass, but I do not intrude. I hide behind one of the curtains and just watch her. She examines the glass in front of her. The blues and greens and yellows popping with the moonlight behind them. I cannot help but smile.
"Hello?" A fiery-haired beauty approaches Isabella with a look of curiousity. I do not know her, that I am sure. Father invited several of his friends from neighboring kingdoms, she must come from abroad.
"Oh, hello." Isabella smiles and turns back to the glass.
"Did I see you dancing with Prince before?" The woman asks.
"You did."
"And you are?" Her eyes narrow at Isabella in a way that I am not sure I like.
"Isabella."
"Just Isabella?"
Isabella shrugs. "Yes, just Isabella."
"I am Lady Victoria. My father and the king are old friends." Victoria smiles, as though she's won a competition.
"Pleasure to meet you, my lady." Isabella curtseys out of politeness.
"Where do you live, Isabella?" Victoria asks.
"Oh, I live in the village. My father was the blacksmith."
Victoria nearly chokes on her drink. "A blacksmith, really?" She glances over Isabella, scrutinizing every detail. "And I see you've taken over the family business. Would you like to know a secret, Isabella?" She leans in close and lowers her voice. "Princes don't fall in love with girls with dirt under their fingernails." As Victoria walks away, I see the tears well in Isabella's eyes as she picks at her nails, then tries to hide them in the skirt of the dress.
"Isabella..." I step out and grab her arm. "Pay no mind."
"Forgive me if I speak out of turn, your Highness," she speaks, her voice flaring with anger as the tears threaten to fall from those soft, kind eyes. "But allow me to make myself clear. I have no desire to fall in love with you or anyone else, so let us stop this charade. I do not belong in this dress, nor in this hall. Clearly, I am not one of these people."
She rushes away, cutting through the crowd and out the door before I can tell her the truth. She's right. She is nothing like these people. And that is precisely why I adore her so.
A/N: Whew! Lots of ups and downs with these two! Thank you so much for reading and for recommending this story. It is so appreciated and I love you guys :)