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My entire family knows her scent. They've caught me clutching the vial of her sweet blood breathing in the essence of my mate.

Emmett thinks I'm whipped, weak.

Jasper sympathizes with my longing.

Emmett rubs it in my face that he's met my mate. Prancing around, bathed in her scent. I nearly rip his head off.

"He's just trying to rile you up, he gave her a hug and she freaked out on him, don't worry." Jasper says easing me, both with his gift and with his words.

They don't show me what she looks like, I only get flashes. Emmett grins wolfishly as he shows me her body, wrapped in indigo satin. It clings to her curves making me groan.

"She's a real spitfire." Emmett says laughing to himself recalling her impassioned yelling. I'm enthralled by her fire, by her spirit.

They're making it harder.

That night I end up in the garden again, hoping to speak with her. Soft footsteps approach rapidly, my heart clenches as I hear the telltale sobs of her crying.

"Love? Is that you crying again?" She sucks in a large breath.

"Don't call me that!" She snarls, I'm taken aback by her anger, her hatred. "I'm not your love! I'm not your anything and I can't wait to go home!" She cries harder and my heart feels like it's breaking. She can't go home, not before we can meet, not before I can give her every happiness. I must convince her to stay. I need her.

"Please love, please don't cry. I can't do anything from here, what's upsetting you?" She doesn't answer only cries.

"Please." I find myself scaling the wall without thought, venturing to just below the terrace, I'm so close. "I wish I could hold you, please tell me what's wrong what can I do?" Her crying softens.

"I don't fit in here."She croaks. . "I don't have the manners of a Two, I was raised a Five, my etiquette is horrid, and all the other girls are beautiful and…" That's absurd! I recall the hazy image of her creamy skin glowing against the indigo satin of her dress. She's stunning, with absolutely no reason to feel lesser. She's superior to every girl here.

"That wretched woman, she made fun of me today, because I'm not some docile little doll, she's made an appointment… to cut my hair, she wants to change the color too." Rage bottles up inside me. That wretched woman indeed. It's Madame Cope, a bitter old woman who lost her chance at being Selected by my father and harbors a deep hatred for 'uncivilized girls'. Mom was a Four and Madame Cope lost out to her, she still feels like her manners were better suited for royalty, Bella must remind her of Mother, a long curtain of dark hair she didn't care to style, manners of what is considered a lower caste.

"I don't want to be some skanky blond, or some some flaming redhead, I like my hair, it's my Mother's hair." Her sweet voice sounds so broken and sad. I try to imagine her as she unknowingly gives away details about herself. Long hair, and brunette, yes, I'd been hoping she was a brunette, the hair would play nicely with the color of her skin, and blue. She'd look devastating in blue. I pull out the ribbon, imagining it in her rich long hair. Yes, she'd look beautiful in blue.

"It's not worth it." She says. I drop off the wall with a pained gasp. No, please love, give me a chance.

"I won't change who I am for anyone. If a person can't love me the way that I am then they're not worth it."

Of course I don't want her to change herself! She's stunning as she is, she's entrancing. I'm not interested in any other.

But I can't have her resent me for keeping her here and miserable. If she'd be happier at home, I can swallow my feelings to bring her happiness.

"Would…"I pause struggling to even dare utter it out loud. "Would it be easier if you just went home?" She's silent, it eats away at me how silent she is.

She sighs.

"It might be easier, but I don't want to leave." I nearly collapse at the weight of her admission.

"I guess I can live with the hair…" But I can't. "And if she wants to change the color then I'll wait until I can change it back and grow it out again." She huffs and I can sense the fire burning inside of her. "And it'll be hard to keep my mouth shut like a pretty little princess." She sounds bitter, disheartened. No no no, my sweet, you won't have to do anything you don't want to. I promise.

She sighs.

"I guess I'm just missing my family. My Mom gave this music box my Dad made himself, she'd never let us touch it growing up, but she just gave it to me… and my sister…" She pauses, I'm devouring the information, wanting to know more, everything.

"Your sister." I prompt when she doesn't continue.

"My sister and I we didn't get a lot as kids. All our money always had to go toward food and clothes and basic living stuff. She worked really hard for months, earning pennies and keeping them in this big jar. She'd jingle the jar happily at night and tell me that someday she was going to get something really pretty." She pauses again. A heavy feeling settles over me.

"She finally saved up and bought this really pretty ribbon, she was so protective of it… she wouldn't let it out of her sight and before I left she just gave it to me. Said it would look pretty in my hair." I glance down at my prize, suddenly feeling more guilty than I have before.

"I guess it's best I lost it. It might not look so good with whatever my new hair is going to be." NO! I want to roar, clutching the ribbon in a tight fist. Not one thing is changing. I'll have a word with Cope before the night is finished.

"I need to get to bed. Thanks for listening." She says, no I need more time with her.

"Wait!" I call panicked.

"Yes?" She says. I clutch the ribbon tenderly, willing myself to do what is right.

"I have your ribbon, if you'd like it back."

"I know." She says, stunning me. "My friend Alice, she's a vampire, she sees the future." Of course the little psychic. She seems to be helping me with my mate.

"You can keep the ribbon, after tomorrow it won't matter how pretty it looks on me." Please don't worry, I'll fix everything.

"I'm not asking any of you to change yourselves." I say, urging her to believe me, to think better of me. "Everyone wants a piece out of the Selection. That's why you do all the tasks and competitions. Everyone wants the Princess to be a certain way, but I don't… I'll know her when I'm able to meet her and I want to meet her the real her. Not what other's force onto her." Please, I urge. Please.

"Maybe I was wrong." She muses sweetly. "Maybe you are worth it." My heart lifts and I smile with utter and complete happiness.

"Thank you." I praise. "Please, get some rest."

Once she's safely inside I enter in a rage, Madame Cope opens the door after my loud knocks looking startled in her face mask and night gown.

"Prince Edward." She fumbles with a robe. "What are you-" My face is a fierce snarl. Her thoughts are petrified of my anger, I could kill her, with no consequences, and she knows it.

"The girls are not to be changed." I hiss. "I want them as they are, as they present themselves." She quakes with fear, her mind recalling a long waterfall of brown, hiding a face.

"You may teach them etiquette and give constructive critiques, but you are not to humiliate or change them. If they don't listen to your advice then let them succeed or fail on their own." She nods shakily, tears dribbling down her face.

With the wretched woman taken care of I make my way to Mother. She's in the library reading some poetry and musing internally about Father.

"Edward dear, how are you doing." Her thoughts reflect her concern at my torment. Her gaze lingering on my frown and eyes that in her mind look too sad.

"I want to send some things to her family." I declare. Mother beams at me and motions for me to sit, I do so while she muses over my affections and the girl she's met. It's infuriating that she tailors her thoughts so I cannot see, but at the same time I want the surprise.

"I met her purely out of coincidence, she was on the terrace and I was in the garden below. We've talked, and I want to do something for her, to show I care." Mother claps a hand to her mouth drawing in a shaky breath.

"Oh Edward, what is it?"

I tell her about how I want to send her younger sister ribbons, dozens, in every color imaginable. And her Mother… I can't hope to replace the memories that are no doubt tied to the music box she held dear. But I want her to have something. Mother suggests a melody of my own, they're Fives and revere music. I ponder this, and opt to send them a new piano, an endearment for teaching my beautiful mate how to play.

There were guesses as to who would help her keep her hair, I'm surprised no one guessed Edward! Leave some love.