I don't own these characters. They are the sole property of Stephenie Meyer. I only borrow them. No humans are permanently harmed through my actions, though I do confess to harassing, annoying, torturing, and exasperating them – just because it's fun. I make no money from my little stories, sad day. I only play in the sandbox, I didn't build it.

Outtake

Isabella's POV

"So...what do you object to in my son?" the queen asked.

"He's arrogant," I replied immediately, for he was. Yes, he was handsome and charming. But did he have to be so damned sure of that? It was surely unfair of the gods to give a man so fair a face, a form that invited admiration, and a crown to round out his blessings. What mere mortal woman could withstand such a lethal combination of attractions? Still, I owed it to myself to try and sort out my feelings before I accepted his proposal. His arrogance, however, was going to be the death of me. Or him. Treason or not, Edward was pushing the limits of my control.

Her lips tugged up in a smile and she nodded. "Yes, well...he's a man," she observed with a little shrug as if that explained it all.

My mother sighed and nodded her agreement. "By the gods, Isabella, there are times when I wonder that your father and brothers can sit a horse without the weight of their heads or their puffed out chests making them topple over."

I had to laugh at that image and I tried desperately to stifle the giggle. Fortunately, the queen shared a conspiratorial smile with my mother and so I assumed that I was to be forgiven.

The queen patted my hand. "If my son was not the king-"

"But he is," I reminded her stubbornly.

"If he was not the king," she continued patiently. "But just some young man whom your parents had chosen for you during your trip here to court, would you still object to marrying him?"

I paused, realizing that the question was of vital importance. I had been brought up to be honest, even when the truth might harm my cause. The ideals of honesty and honor had been hammered into all of us from the cradle. "I do not know," I finally answered as truthfully as I could. My mother and the queen sat forward a bit, as if sensing there was more to my answer. "Probably not," I conceded at last.

For some reason, my answer made the two women smile and sit back with very smug expressions on their faces. "Thank you for being honest with me, Isabella," the queen said. "Now, aside from my son's obvious arrogance, and I'll warn you now that arrogance is a part of him and you'll never truly rid him of it, what gives you pause about this union? He's male and prone to such vagaries, though he would deny it hotly if you dared to venture that opinion so we must set that aside for now."

I had to smile at the loving vexation in her voice.

"So, apart from being quite male and arrogant, what do you object to in my son?" Her voice was gentle, inviting confidence.

I was at a loss. What did I object to? His blithe assumption that I would fall into line with his plans was part and parcel of his arrogance, so in the interest of fairness, I had to put that aside, though it rankled to do so. His mad desire for a son? Once again, I had to be fair. He had been honest about that from the first. It was only natural that a man wanted a son to inherit what he left behind. Even Emmett had bragged until the rafters rang when Rosalie's firstborn was a son. He loved his daughter fiercely, but you could see the pride and relief when he looked on little Royce. He had protected his line for another generation. How much more ardent would that desire be for a man who had a kingdom to bequeath and a whole people to protect? No, I could not truly fault him for wanting a son. It was a natural desire and he had been open in his expression of it. I would not have believed him if he said he did not care about having a son, so I could hardly hold the wish for one against him.

I tried very hard to look at his behavior when we were together. He never demeaned me, nor did he act shocked that I both had a mind and preferred to use it. If anything, he encouraged lively discussions on a wide variety of topics. Yes, he often pricked my temper but I was beginning to suspect that he did so on purpose. He was unfailingly gallant and had made it clear to the entire court that he was indeed pursuing me for his wife and that he expected them to afford me respect accordingly. He treated my family with the utmost deference, even when they acted too familiarly. He did not play at being a king; I had seen him working hard and I knew the candle burned late in his private offices as he pondered the matters of a kingdom. I could only respect his reverence and dedication for his place. He had plundered his vast library for me, offering up bits of parchment and aged books like a farmer might offer a posy to a woman he admired. He had given me the most adorable puppy to ever decimate a flower garden and had personally arranged the right the damage that the little scamp did before his mother could see it.

In truth, he had been very fair and kind to me, even when I had been at my most contrary. I had pushed him time and time again, and yet not once had he been unkind or harsh with me. In fact, when I was at my worst, he seemed to be at his most chivalrous. It was true that he could have simply ordered me to marry him. A threat to my family would have solved the issue of my refusing to speak the vows easily enough and I suspected that he knew that. Instead, he had continued courting me with all of the honor he might have shown a royal princess. Never once had he made me feel as if I was unworthy of him.

My brothers insisted that the king had more in mind than simply getting an heir, they insisted he wanted me as a wife aside from the possibility of male issue. Emmett told me he thought the king was falling in love with me and that I could have him worshipping at my feet if I tried the least little bit. I was not sure I wanted a man worshipping at my feet. I would be happy to have one at my side, enjoying the give and take I saw in my parents' lives. I knew that my parents' marriage was an anomaly, and that most married couples merely made the best of things as they were expected to do. I wanted more. I knew better than to hope that I would love the man I married, but I most certainly hoped that I could grow to love him, as my parents had learned to love each other.

He did not love me, but I knew he felt affection for me. Affection was a good basis for marriage, better than many couples were given. Affection could easily turn to love, if it were nurtured and cherished.

"Tell me, child," the queen interrupted my thoughts. "How do you feel about him...personally?" I was not sure what she meant. Had we not been discussing that very issue?

My mother saw my confusion. "What the queen means is...does he make your blood run hot?" The queen's face erupted in a fiery blush, but my mother merely waited for my answer. She was as blunt in her way as the rest of us. While I was innocent, I was not naïve. I had some idea of what went on between a man and a woman. My notions were vague and somewhat confusing, but at least I was not completely ignorant. I had overheard enough of my brothers' conversations to be somewhat informed on the basics.

I thought of Edward's kisses and the way he pressed his body against mine and how I could feel his response, even through the thick layers of clothes. I remembered feeling hot and cold and shaky all at the same time when his hand brushed against the bottom of my breast. My breasts had ached for him then, a strange, dull throbbing that puzzled me. I wanted...something. I knew he could give it to me, whatever it was, but it frightened me as well. I both yearned for it and ran from it, even as I wondered if he would gently initiate me into the elusive "it" that intrigued me.

"As your mother says, does he make your blood...run hot?" the queen said hesitantly. "Because if you find his touch repugnant, let us know now. We will persuade him to cease his pursuit of you. Now that I know he is amenable to marriage, even with someone from court, I am sure I can find a suitable woman to be his bride. I won't have you unhappy, child, no matter what my son might think." She gave a sad smile. "It is a terrible thing to be forced into a marriage when you know it is not right."

She would hand Edward over to someone else? For some reason, that made my stomach churn and my hands clench. No. Absolutely not. I scowled, unable to help my reaction and the two of them grinned at me as if they had been indulging in too much wine. "No, I don't find his touch revolting." Sometimes I wish I did. There had been moments when I had stared at his mouth and imagined the most decadent things, those perfect lips pressed to unmentionable parts of my body, parts that tingled with awareness of my indiscreet thoughts. No, finding Edward repulsive was not the issue.

"What gives you pause, child?" the queen asked kindly.

My eyes flickered to my mother, who merely nodded, telling me without words that I should be honest. "Your Majesty, I want what I see in my parents' marriage. They have something more than affection or respect. Such things are pleasant, of course, and certainly desirable over dislike and distrust." I sighed. "And I know that my parents' marriage was an arranged one, it was only happy chance that made it a love match in the end." My mother smiled and reached for my hand. "So while I do not expect that my husband would love me before we wed, I would like to think that there is a chance we could develop those feelings after, with time and care and good fortune."

"You think you could not love my son?" the queen murmured.

I decided to evade that question. "I think the question is whether your son could love me, Your Majesty."

The queen sat back and sighed deeply. "Isabella, I'm afraid that my son labors under some...delusions."

"Delusions?" The king was mad? That might explain some things.

"Well, his father had definite ideas about love and marriage and duty," the queen explained. She rose to her feet. "For now, I think it is best to let my son struggle with his feelings. He has ever been stubborn." She flashed a smile at me. "With Edward, it is often better if you allow him to come to his own conclusions, gently leading him when the time is right." She held my gaze. "That time is not yet right, but I say this with all honesty and care, Isabella...I do feel that the time will come when my son will not only feel everything you might desire a husband to feel, but that he will express those feelings openly and honestly."

That took me aback. "Truly?" It was true, that was the most secret desire of my heart. I wanted him to love me, to love Isabella the woman, not just the mother of the sons he hoped to have.

The queen nodded. "I will tell you something that not many people know, Isabella, because I already think of you as my daughter and I want you to understand why Edward thinks the way he does." Once more she sat down and gave a little sigh. "When I arrived in this country to marry Edward, your Edward's father, he was already in love with someone else." My mother's expression was compassionate and she lightly patted the queen's shoulder. "He could not marry her, a match had already been arranged for her and she could give him nothing he needed for the realm. I was a distant cousin but I brought with me certain trade agreements that were desperately needed at the time."

"And you, Your Majesty, how did you feel?" I asked. I could not imagine the pain of being given to a man who wanted someone else.

Her smile flickered. "I too was in love with someone else, though I was never bold enough to declare my feelings. I knew that we would never be allowed to marry, our stations were too different and besides, I had a role to fulfill for my own country. So, I married Edward knowing that neither of us loved each other." Her face was sad as she stared into the fire. "It was a good enough marriage, I suppose. Edward was kind. He was faithful, which was more than I expected. We had our son, and though we both wished for more children, Edward never blamed me, which he might have easily done." Her eyes flickered up to mine once again. "But something was missing and we both knew it. I'm afraid that my Edward decided that kings could not afford to love, because his own experience had been so painful. And he convinced our son of the same thing."

I sat back and took a deep breath. It all made so much more sense now. I nodded. "I see," I murmured.

"So you, my dear, must decide if you have the patience to coax Edward out of those mistaken beliefs, to show him that even a king is just a man who might give his heart to a woman," the queen said. "It will not be easy, and I am quite sure there will be times when you tempted to slip a bit of poison into Edward's cup. But I ask that you resist the temptation," the queen added with a twinkle in her eyes. "For I believe that if you are strong and patient, you could have the marriage of which you dream. I am asking you to be brave enough to marry my son...to love him, as I see that you do."

I gaped at her. I had not even been sure of my own feelings until that very moment. "I...I... Do you think he...?"

She grasped my hand. "He does not know. I think he wishes for your heart, though he does not even recognize his own desires. But I think with time, he will realize that he is only keeping himself from what he wants most by listening to his father's words. Please...I think you are exactly what my son needs. I know that you are exactly the person I want for him. So I'm asking you, as Edward's mother and not the queen, to consider marrying him."

She fell silent and I considered her words. It was true. I did love him. The realization caused a physical pain. What if Edward could never learn to love me in return? Could I live with that, having him so close and yet just far enough away from me to hurt? But what if I said no? Would I always wonder what might have been? Could I bear to think of him married to another? There was great risk with either path, but I knew I could not endure to lose him altogether, especially if I would never know if I might have claimed his heart if only I had been brave enough. A Swan never backed down from a challenge and neither would I.

"I'll marry him," I said abruptly. "But I do not wish him to know that I...that I love him."

The queen smiled serenely. "Of course not, my dear. A woman must have some secrets."