Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable characters. No copyright infringement is intended.

Okay, so it's still Sunday night here in Illinois, but it's Monday somewhere right? I guess I'm an honorary Aussie today…I'm pretty sure it's been Monday there for quite some time :) I'm just too excited to wait until morning to post this…so you get it a few hours early.

I must preface this chapter with the disclaimer that I am not Catholic, nor have I ever observed a Catholic wedding, so I have taken great liberties with the service in order to serve the greater needs of the plot. Please ignore any major mistakes. This is so fluffy that my teeth ache a bit, but oh is it ever so satisfying! I hope you enjoy!

Thanks as always to my beta AgoodWITCH for her always diligent beta work. I keep the poor girl quite busy between SF and flyboy. Flyboy will post Tomorrow morning and the teaser for SF chapter 8 is already posted on my blog!


A Day for Miracles

Isabella was awoken before the sun had even risen. She sat in a chair in the middle of her chambers as people surrounded her, poking and prodding, pulling and tugging for the next three hours to make her the perfect bride. Hot cylinder irons warmed above the fire were used to twist her hair into perfect ringlets that were then pulled back from her face to collect upon her head and fall in beautifully sculpted tendrils down her back. Once the locks were perfectly arranged, jewels were adhered throughout the style, glittering with the shimmer of diamond and the elegance of pearl.

While her hair was being curled, two ladies worked at her feet, scrubbing the surface of the soles as they rested in large tubs of warm water. Meanwhile, two other ladies worked to shape and buff her fingernails to perfection. When all of that was completed, the four ladies along with Angela assisted Isabella into her gown, being extremely careful not to damage the perfect design atop her head.

Angela couldn't help but grow more concerned with every passing minute for her friend as she watched her, sitting still as a statue as the servants and hairdressers worked to make her perfect for her groom. Her perfect mask was in place on the outside, but one look at her blank eyes told Angela that she was wallowing in the depths of despair deep inside her calm façade.

More than anything, Angela wished that she could find a way to explain what she believed to be true about the English prince, to ease her mind, but even Angela was not entirely certain that her groom was in fact the young man from Italy. The coincidences were far too many otherwise though for her not to believe it was so.

When her dress was in place with only one hour before the ceremony was to begin at the cathedral in the city centre, the other royal ladies came in to make over her perfection. Isabella smiled tightly, barely moving for fear that if she allowed even the slightest of freedoms that she would flee into the countryside to escape her looming fate.

Both Angela and Alice were well aware of the princess's inner turmoil, as well as the surprise awaiting her in front of the altar. They both did the best they could to calm and subdue Isabella's panic while their mothers continued to chatter, apparently completely unaware of the reality of the situation at hand.

Queen Renee came to her daughter's side holding her in a long, comforting hug. "You are a vision, my beautiful Bellita. I am so proud of you, dear heart. You are a strong woman and a testament to all of the royal women who came before you. Please do not be discouraged, my young one, for the good Lord makes the most of any situation. Have faith, my young one, that he will do the same for you."

Isabella nodded with a tight smile, watching as her mother and soon to be mother-in-law disembarked to make their way in the carriages to the venue. Alice stayed behind to help Angela take care of the bride and get her ready for the ride to the cathedral.

The streets were lined with cheering people. Isabella's heart sank even lower at the realization that total strangers who would more or less be completely unaffected by her union were a hundred times more joyful about her special day than she was. She smiled and waved, performing her duty as a royal, but below the perfectly groomed surface, she was screaming.

The carriage stopped in front of the massive cathedral, the shadow of the tall spires at the front of the church casting them in shadow as Isabella accepted the steward's hand to assist her out of the carriage. Alice and Angela were right behind her, adjusting the hem of her dress while carrying the cathedral length veil that would be placed upon her head in a few short minutes in preparation for her walk up the aisle.

Each step Isabella took toward the massive double doors felt like they would be her last, her knees trembling, weakened by her nerves and fear. A steward manning the door, opened it with a flourish, and Isabella stepped through quickly, grateful for the reprieve from the scrutiny of the Spanish subjects, yelling best wishes to her from the street.

The smell of sickeningly sweet incense made Isabella's stomach turn even more ferociously, threatening the return of the light breakfast she had been able to choke down, at the most inconvenient of times. Alice and Angela fussed with Isabella's dress and hair before placing the long flowing gossamer veil atop her head, affixing it with a golden tiara before pulling the front portion forward to conceal her face, as was tradition. They both hugged her, handing her the bouquet that was waiting for her in the vestibule where she prepared to begin the walk that would seal her fate.

Before Alice was ushered away to sit with her family, she turned to the nervous bride with a bright, excited smile. "May the Lord fill your days with sunshine and your life with warmth, Princess Isabella of Spain and future Queen of England."

Isabella gasped in surprise at the familiar salutation she had first heard only two years before, the day she first met Tony. Her mind was muddled in a quagmire of confusion as she watched Alice bounce away on the arm of the steward who was leading her to be seated with her family, her thoughts too hazy to put the pieces together, but feeling a strange sense of foreboding.

While Alice left to go join her family, Angela stayed by Isabella's side. Isabella's hands began to tremble noticeably, vibrating the bouquet in her grip. In one last attempt to calm her, Angela turned to her with a smile.

"I love you, Bella. Please have faith. You never know when your most fervent prayer might come true. Have faith and be strong. I promise you that this is not the trip to the gallows that you are envisioning. Jacob told you himself, and I have heard rumor that his admiration for you is already adjusting his actions. Your father sent him Jessica night before last and he turned her down and all but tossed her out on her derrière. He is an honorable man who will treat you with respect, Bella…far more respect than you have ever received from your father. Please, just trust me and relax."

Isabella blinked slowly at Angela; a little life returning to her brown eyes just before the music began, indicating it was time for Isabella to make her way up the aisle to the altar. Angela squeezed her hand one last time before stepping away to allow Isabella to step up to the doorway. The stewards opened both at once, making Isabella's breath catch as she realized that the attention of the room stuffed to capacity with people was solely focused on her.

Isabella took a deep breath before taking the first slow and steady step down the red velvet carpeted aisle. She passed numerous faces that she did not know, too nervous to focus on any of them or the man standing at the altar. When she was nearly to the front of the room, she glanced to see the man waiting for her with the uniquely colored hair she had rarely seen before looking her way with great interest, his eyes focused on the waist of her gown.

When she reached the front, her groom stood to stand beside her as the priest began to speak. Isabella tried to glance out of the corner of her eye to get a better look, but the veil was making any true discernment of his features nearly impossible. She was greatly troubled by the color of her groom's hair and how close it was to the boy she had once loved.

Meanwhile, Edward had been focused on Isabella as she stepped graciously up the aisle. His stomach teeming with fluttering butterflies at the commitment he was about to make to a stranger. Her skirts continued the steady cadence that he had witnessed from afar as she had walked with her brother in the garden. He wanted to take a closer look at her face as she approached him, but he was mesmerized by the grace of her hips as her skirts swished side to side in tandem with her steps.

When she reached the altar, he realized to his chagrin that he was too late to get a good look, but what he could make of her profile seemed pleasant. He hoped that she was as kind and beautiful as everyone proclaimed. His heart ached slightly with the genuine wish that his beautiful girl from Italy was the one standing by his side, the girl whose name so perfectly matched her perfection…His Bella.

Edward offered his hand to assist his bride as the couple knelt at the father's instruction. They both clasped their hands in front of them after Isabella laid her flowers aside in an attitude of prayer. The Cardinal ended the first prayer as all of the people in the room signed the cross in response to the end of the prayer.

The Cardinal began the liturgy in which the groom was to respond in the affirmative. His voice wavered ever so slightly in response, but the tenor made Isabella tense next to him. At his second reply, her face jerked in his direction in surprise, mouth agape as she realized she wasn't dreaming.

Seeing her action in the corner of his eye, Edward glanced to try to discern what was wrong. He froze, grateful that he had just given his last reply as he got a good look at the face next to him, beautiful chocolate pools open wide and mouth unhinged in shock. When their eyes locked, Edward's heart began to race, starting to believe he had gone completely mad.

The priest continued on with the next portion of the ceremony as they both stared. Finally, Bella broke the silence with a whispered, "Tony?"

His beautiful jade eyes widened further as he realized he wasn't dreaming. She had just said his name aloud and it was his angel's voice. "Bella?"

They were both breathing hard, blinking back tears as smiles spread in miraculous synchronicity across their faces. All the fear, anger, disappointment, and reluctance disappeared in an instant. It was nothing short of a miracle.

The whole room watched on in confusion as the bride and groom beamed at one another. They were so lost in each other that the priest had to garner their attention and repeat the portion of the service where Isabella was supposed to respond. She never once glanced away from the English Prince as she answered in the affirmative to every question in the father's litany.

The Prince and Princess kept their eyes locked, matching brilliant smiles on their faces through the entire ceremony full of kneeling and standing, recitation and response. They were relieved when the Cardinal told them that they could face one another and join hands for the recitation of their vows. The Prince grasped the Princess's hands eagerly in his, massaging the backs with his thumbs comfortingly, still amazed that it was his Bella. Years of lamenting, only to find at the eleventh hour that he was getting to marry the only girl he would ever truly love. The odds were astronomical and he was more than a little confused as to how the logistics worked out, but in that moment, he couldn't care less.

Bella gazed into her Tony's eyes, more than happy to promise to love, honor, and obey him for the rest of her days. Both of their hands trembled in nervous excitement as they slid the golden bands to represent the beginning of the rest of their lives onto one another's fingers. It was astonishing how much the symbolism of that tiny piece of jewelry had changed for the both of them within the matter of a few short minutes. It was no longer a symbol of bondage, but rather a symbol of union…a union neither ever believed was even remotely possible.

Edward reached out with eager hands to push back the veil gasping at the unequivocal beauty of his bride, his wife, his queen, and the only woman he ever could love. Bella smiled up at him, her knees growing week at the look of absolute adoration and love shining from her husband's sparkling green eyes. When the father told Edward to kiss his bride, the two of them eagerly leapt into one another's arms, the room of guests behind them completely forgotten, as they kissed the kiss of lovers separated by too much space and far too much time.

The room cheered in the background as Edward pulled away, cupping Bella's cheeks in his hands. "I can not believe it is really you. Do you know how many times I dreamed of making you my bride? How is this possible?"

Bella smiled up at him, feeling the tickle of the tears drifting down her cheeks before her Tony's thumbs wiped them away. "It's a miracle. It simply has to be…fated by God."

He smiled down at her, kissing her cheeks, forehead, and eyes before reclaiming her lips, desperate to never let go again. Both sets of their parents came forward to give their traditional blessings and try to figure out exactly what was going on, both pairs utterly dumbfounded by the change in attitude of their children.

The official proclamations were made as the group of bride and groom, along with their parents and extended family members, exited the room smiling happily, the newlyweds feeling so happy that their chests might have burst from pure elation. The second they were in the carriage for the ride back to the royal court alone, their mouths found one another again, desperate for every ounce of affection they could find.

They broke away with huge smiles, completely ignoring the cheering crowd, which only served to make the crowd even more ecstatic to see that their Princess had actually found true love. The newlyweds faced one another in the carriage, hands grasped between them.

"How is this even possible?" Edward yelled above the din.

Bella smiled. "I was sneaking off, trying to experience a normal life and blend in with the locals as I suspect you were doing. I was afraid if you knew the truth you would be angry and believed that with you being a commoner that my father would never allow us to be together anyway, so I simply kept up the lie in hopes that we could both cling to good memories instead of the pain of being separated by class."

Edward chuckled with a nod, rolling his eyes at their stupidity. If they had just risked the pain and been honest with one another, years of upset, anger, and in his case disgusting indiscretion and hedonistic tendencies would have been avoided completely. Suddenly nervousness boiled up within Edward as he remembered what Jacob had said to him about Bella hearing the rumors. She knew everything…well everything that is spread through court gossip at least. He made so many mistakes, but his rebellion, spent hiding up the skirts of whatever loose maiden was willing and able was the biggest and quite possibly, unforgivable.

Bella saw the cloud cross Tony's face. They were drawing closer to the entrance of the court and had little time left. She furrowed her brow, cupping his cheeks in her hands. "What's wrong, Tony? Why do you look so upset on what should be the happiest day either of us has had in years, if ever?"

He smiled at her, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I love hearing you call me that. You are the only one who has ever called me Tony. I want to grow old hearing you call me that." He sighed, bringing his hands up to rest upon hers. "Can you ever forgive me, my love?"

Bella furrowed her brow. "For what, Tony?"

He sighed, closing his eyes, hiding the only way he could from what could quite possibly be the end of his happily ever after. "For my mistakes, for the rumors that I am loathe to admit are true, my beauty. I ached for you and decided if I could not have you then I would rebel against my father in the only way I could and be a lecherous fool. In the end, the only one I truly hurt was myself and you, and by hurting you I cut myself even deeper."

He felt Bella sigh before leaning in to kiss his hands and his forehead. "Do I like what you have done? No. Do I understand the inclination? Certainly. Had I been a male and been able to get away with such acts without dishonoring my name and my family, I might have behaved in a similar fashion. We were both heartbroken, believing that we could not be with the one we loved. Pain like that drives people to do strange and uncharacteristic things. I might as well have been dead to you, and you grieved in the manner that is quite common amongst the kings and princes of all of Europe, except they do it for no reason at all."

Edward sighed, feeling the tension begin to melt from his body. His angel returned to him in the form of a bride who was not pleased, but did not hate him for his impetuous actions. He would forever thank God for this rather large mercy.

The carriage stopped at the doors of the court, the carriages of their family right behind them. Edward stepped down, holding out his hand to assist Bella. His eyes could not be torn away from hers, even when her father stormed up to face him screaming of his impropriety in front of the entirety of Spain. The irony was not lost on anyone in the area, as snickers began to arise behind the King, but were quickly stifled when he turned to shoot lances in their direction through the medium of his eyes.

"Pardon me, good King Charles," Carlisle stated quietly as he stepped in to temper the rising heat of the situation. "Perhaps we should continue inside to one of our quarters to discuss this privately."

The king nodded before stalking off through the doors and directly to his antechamber where several plus chairs were placed around a large table at which he held conferences with his advisors. The men settled down, their wives standing behind them as King Charles resumed his rant.

"Perhaps you should allow us to tell our tale and then you can all ask questions when we are done," Edward suggested rationally. All eyes at the table turned to the irate King for his agreement. He nodded once, glaring at Edward's shoulder where Bella rested her hand, which Edward covered with his own as he took a deep breath to begin.

"One side of my family comes from Italian origins. My mother's family is still among the aristocracy of the area. My sister and I were both born there before our father was called up to take the throne when Queen Elizabeth's reign ended. In our youth, my sister and I visited our family there often. We enjoyed the anonymity of blending in with the locals; our Italian nearly perfected enough to blend seamlessly into the larger population of the area. When we visited, we did our best not to be set apart as royals. I would go by the name of Tony, a shortening of my middle name Anthony, and my sister would go by Mary, her Christian first name. Two years ago, I was visiting there when I met this beautiful, sweet girl wandering within the shelves of the library. I helped her find a volume she was searching for and then left. Over the course of the next week, we happened to meet several times, usually at the library. I never gave away my true station in life, assuming that she was just another commoner as she pretended to be. We spent the better part of the next two months carrying on a friendship that led to love. At the end of my time there, we parted never to communicate since."

The King grumbled, shifting in his chair. "What in the name of all that is holy does this have to do with my daughter?"

"Your Majesty, the girl that I fell in love with that summer over the worn pages of books that we would read together on a small grassy hill near the library, was actually no commoner as I had assumed. She was a Spanish Princess, indulging in the joy of anonymity while studying abroad with her brother."

Two feminine gasps rang out at the last of his words as two mothers, worried for their children and the pain they had suffered, finally realized what a miracle had taken place. Both knew the stories as their children had shared their woes with them, and also knew what a Godsend this result truly was. Esme had pondered over Isabella's nickname the first day she met her, but assumed that the story was true, and thus the Spanish Princess could never be her son's long lost love.

At the admission, King Charles's eyes filled with fire as he glared at his daughter, standing up from his chair and motioning as to cross toward her in fury. Prince Edward immediately stood up, stepping between the King and his frightened daughter. The Spanish King snarled at Edward before moving his gaze around the room to land on his own son.

"You were supposed to be looking after her, Jacob. You let her run around, pretending to be a commoner, ruining her reputation with local riffraff? I am ashamed of you."

A feminine voice echoed loudly off the walls of the room as Bella stepped to Edward's side. "Do not blame him for my actions. He thought I was in my room studying. I would sneak out of a window after I chose to retire to my chambers for a few hours. I snuck back in for dinner and Jacob never knew a thing until after we were home and I confided in him. He does not deserve your anger."

The King began to shift his anger back toward his daughter, when a calm but authoritative voice spoke up from the other end of the table. "Your Majesty, the King of Spain is no longer in charge of the health and welfare of Princess Isabella. She is now legally wed to my son, the Prince of England, and will not be harmed in any way without penalty of war upon your country. Princess Isabella is now a future Queen of England and will be treated and protected as such."

Silence filled the room as King Charles glared around at the group before him. He was a minority in his anger. All the other people in the room knew at least a portion of the story they had just heard from one or the other of the couple and were happy that the puzzle pieces ended up fitting together into a happy solution. Unfortunately, one father had been too worried about his own interests and ignoring his only daughter to even know she had ever been in distress. His face turned a dangerous looking shade of red before he turned and stormed from the room, slamming the door behind him with a resounding echo.

Everyone sat in silence for a few moments before they glanced back at Edward and Isabella, who had already gotten past the drama, and were standing side by side, holding hands and gazing lovingly into one another's eyes. The Spanish King was too self-involved and jaded to see the purity of the love these two shared. No amount of anger, yelling, or disdain would ever push them apart again.

The two Queens smiled, hugging one another as they took in the sight of their once broken children finally whole again. Finally, Esme spoke up to the room. "I do believe we have a party of monumental proportions waiting for us in the great hall. The events of today certainly deserve the pomp and circumstance. Shall we go to dine and dance to revel in our joy?"

Edward and Bella looked toward the English Queen with joyful smiles. "Yes, we should." Edward replied. Bella smiled up at him, kissing his chin lightly as she chimed in with, "Most definitely." The group stood up, leaving the room to enter the main hall to uproarious cheers. The bride and groom smiled as the stepped up onto the raised platform where two thrones awaited them. They held hands between them as they sat, resulting in the yells of the crowd as the celebration officially commenced.

Next chapter we have the wedding night of which a censored version will be posted here while a full octane version will be on TWCSlibrary!