Author's Chapter Notes:

Hey all!

Happy Thanksgiving weekend t othose of you who are celebrating it, I hope you're all having a peaceful and relaxing few days!

So sorry for the mega delay, but it was that time of year again with moving to uni and getting settled into a new house and back into my course!

Thank you to the amazing number of people who are reading and reviewing. Welcome to everyone who has joined since the last chapter was posted, and thank you to all of you who have sent me little messages of encouragement and sweetness in my absence.

I will never not finish any of my fics, I have no left nor forgotten about any of you.

At the end of the last chapter, after their engagement ball was more successful than even B imagined, E&B had their 2nd 1st kiss and Edward's fever was getting steadily worse.

Onwards!

Chapter 10: Incoherent Truths

I only lasted around thirty minutes before I decided I needed to change.

I made my way into my own room, changed into some comfortable pyjamas, picked up the book I was halfway through, my pea, and headed back into Edward's. I settled in against the mountain of soft pillows and hoped he would be okay until morning when the palace doctor would be called.

It was going to be a long night, but I found I didn't care. I was going to be married to him; the least I could do was look after him when he didn't have anyone else.

Sure, a maid could do it, but he was my fiancé – my date for all intents and purposes – and I realised I wanted it to be me.

I had ill-treated him for weeks, for far longer than I should have. My behaviour was immature and cruel, and hot tears pricked at my eyes as I thought over my words and actions. I could have lost him, chased him away so many times, and yet he'd stayed. He'd stuck by me, and that said so much more for his character than it did for mine.

I was going to be Queen of an empire one day, either when my father decided I was ready or when the time came when I had no choice. I couldn't even grow up enough to treat my future husband with respect. I wasn't even mature enough to see that, from the very beginning, I was intrigued by and attracted to him. I wasn't mature enough to see that there was something there, that he was special and that my parents had chosen him for a reason.

I'd acted like a child – a child I was no longer supposed to be. I'd been learning and studying the ways of my future empire for years, and when faced with a problem I hadn't been expecting, I retreated into the naïve little eighteen year old I wasn't expected to be.

I wasn't supposed to act like a petulant teenager. I was supposed to show poise, elegance and discretion when faced with any obstacle or situation. I was heir to the most powerful throne in the world, and I had spent the start of my summer throwing what could only be called a tantrum.

I had no right to act out against my parents, ignore my palatial duties, or avoid my fiancé.

I fell asleep with tear tracks on my face and my pea locked securely under my arm. The exertions of the day and the emotional rollercoaster of the night took its toll on me and my eyes drifted closed despite my weak protests.

Dreams of my upcoming wedding day filtered through my head like a movie; my father walking me down the aisle to hundreds of turned heads in the cathedral, the narrow passage stretching away in front of me, but Edward standing at the other end making the walk bearable. All I could see was the back of his head, but it was enough to know he was there.

Sighs followed me as I made my way along, my dress floating gracefully behind me, Rosalie at the other end of the train. Edward slipped his hand into mine without turning around, and I saw him smile as I studied his profile.

He was so handsome. Freshly shaven with his hair tamed for the first time in its existence. I could see his eyes sparkling as he tried to hold in his laughter, and I wasn't quite sure what he was finding so funny. The minister was watching me with kind eyes when I turned to the front, and when Edward squeezed my hand in his, a world of happiness settled over me.

I felt a tug on my train and turned, puzzled. Rosalie and Alice were at the side of the altar in their places, and everyone else should have been sitting. There was nothing in my line of sight, but when I looked down, there was a gorgeous little boy sitting on the train of my dress, grinning a gap-toothed smile up at me.

The congregation was chuckling at the sweet little boy in his mini tux and bowtie, and I couldn't help but join them. I was confused though, there were no children of that age at the ceremony, and I wasn't sure what he was doing there.

Edward surprised me by letting go of my hand and stooping down to pick up the boy.

"Kiddo, what are you doing? You're going to ruin Mama's dress!"

I felt faint as I listened to his sugared tones speak those particular words. Mama? I had a son? We had a son?

"Edward?" I whispered, uncertainty clouding my tone.

"Don't worry; I'll give him to my mother." He winked at me before turning back to the boy. "You'll behave for Mummy and Daddy won't you?" The little person nodded enthusiastically and giggled when the mass of people behind him chuckled again.

I followed my eyes to Edward's parent's in the front row, sitting alongside my mother with a little baby girl in her arms. My eyes widened as Edward made his way back to me, childless.

"They'll be just like us one day. Only brother and sister. Not future husband and wife…" I laughed at the adorable frown on my husband's face as he realised what he'd said.

I awoke, startled, just as my dream Edward pressed his lips to my cheek. A dark room and Edward's scent and warmth invaded my senses as I slowly remembered where I was.

I froze in place, realising Edward's arm was around my waist, and the real man had just placed a kiss on my cheek like his dream counterpart.

The next thing I noticed was how hot I was. Edward must have turned in his sleep, his chest now pressed against my back as he held me in his arms. It would have been nice if he wasn't so hot and my heart wasn't hammering in my chest due to a crazy dream. I was becoming increasingly uncomfortable and had to figure out a way to get out of his grasp without disturbing him.

When I lifted my arm, trying to do the same to his, he mumbled my name.

"Stay here," he mumbled next, burrowing his face into my neck, making me shiver from top-to-toe.

"Edward, you're too hot. You need to rest," I whispered kindly, brushing the hair from his sweaty forehead when I turned to face him.

He opened his eyes, the green pools hazy and unfocused, and I started to panic that there was something seriously wrong with him. His gaze focused on me as much as it could and he frowned sadly.

"I just got you back. I don't want to let you go again."

"I'm just letting you rest, Edward. You're not well," I replied, rolling my eyes. As if he didn't already know that.

He kept talking like he hadn't even heard me. "It was too long."

"What was? The party? I'm sorry I made you go…" His eyes snapped open again and it looked like he had to battle to find the strength to talk.

"No. We've been apart for too long."

My heart stuttered painfully, and out of instinct I raised my hand and clutched at my chest.

"Edward, what…" It was like I already knew – deep down – what he was going to say, but my brain just wouldn't let me compute it.

"I lost them, and then I lost you. I wanted to come back. I promise I wanted to come back."

He paused, dragging in a breath that even in my shocked mind I knew didn't sound healthy.

"And then I did. I finally got you back, and you had no idea who I was…"

It was all right there in front of me to grasp onto, but I had to hear him out. I knew he shouldn't have been wasting his energy on me like that, but I was being selfish – one last time, I told myself. I could see it in his dulling eyes that he had more to say and feel it in his death grip on my hand. I didn't even realise we'd been holding hands. Maybe that was why I was so calm, so grounded, because that was what his touch did to me.

"That day down at the stables? You looked straight through me and every dream I'd had about that meeting just…melted. You had no idea who I was. I kept waiting for you to say my name, smile, anything, but you couldn't even stand to look at me, and it hurt…so much…"

Some pathetic whimper escaped my throat before I could catch it, and Edward's eyes snapped up to mine. I was sitting with my legs crossed Indian style, his hand in my lap, clasped between both of mine. I was holding on for dear life, because it was all right there. All I had to do was open the door in my head a little wider, and I knew it would all come flooding through.

"I was so naïve," he continued, and I shook my head vehemently. He wasn't the naïve one, he wasn't the one who'd been stupid and spoiled and wasted so much time. He stopped me by squeezing my hand; he wasn't finished.

"I was, Bella. I had this picture in my head of the two of us meeting, like, you'd run across the space between us and jump into my arms or something ridiculous. All I knew was that I'd never want to let you go if that happened and thought that you'd want that too.

"I'm so sorry. I spent so much time away that I romanticised what we had before I left. You were only eleven years old. You weren't old enough to even know what the feelings I was experiencing were. You couldn't miss me the way I missed you because you wouldn't have known what it was.

"When you walked away that day it all just…clicked…I'd never realised that you wouldn't have been old enough to even remember me if you had nothing to remind you of me.

"It didn't make sense at first. I guess I was egotistical and cocky thinking 'how could she forget me,' but you were so young…so innocent…"

His hand cradled my cheek and I leaned into it without thinking twice. His eyes had cleared, and I took strength from him. He was ill, weak, yet he found the courage to speak the truth. I had to learn from him; because it was clearer to me then than ever before that I'd spent weeks running from it.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I'm sorry I asked your parents not to tell you. I'm so, so sorry I left you, Princess, but I had no choice."

His thumb swept away my stray tears as he relaxed back into his pillows. His grip on my hand was weakening, and his eyes were starting to droop again, and the solace I'd taken in him being alert enough to stay with me was dwindling.

It was wrong of me to expect strength and stability when he wasn't able. It wasn't fair on him to expect him to do all the talking, all the explaining, and let me get away with the way I'd been acting.

"The little boy at the fountain with the big green eyes, toothy smile and wild hair," I murmured, sweeping my fingers through the hair above Edward's forehead. He tried to focus his eyes on me and I smiled a watery smile down at him. "How did I ever forget you, Edward?"

"It doesn't matter," he answered. "You're marrying the guy I am now, not the boy I was then."

He was right, but it still didn't make it okay. It was far from okay. In fact, it was even a little frightening. How had I forgotten a massive, important chunk of my childhood? Why was my brain malfunctioning to the point of memory loss?

"I didn't belong here and you're a princess. I was never good enough for you…"

His eyes found mine, but there was barely any life in them. He was completely exhausted, confused and riddled with fever. If he hadn't found some lucidity in the middle, I would have put it all down to mindless ramblings.

"Bella…love…" His head rolled to the side and he was silent. On the inside I was hysterical, and I was sure it was that reason why the first thing I thought was that he was dead. I even checked for a pulse. There was seriously something wrong with me.

I sat there disbelieving as pictures and places and smells and sounds all fell into place in my brain. How had all of it escaped me? How had I let myself forget?

Alec's words came back to me, a sentence at a time.

The young man waiting in there knows just how special you are. Trust your parents, Bella, but trust in yourself more.

You need to have more faith that all this is real. You just need to remember this all happened.

Then Sue's.

I remember the days you used to run around this palace, neither of you with a care in the world.

Then Alison's.

That boy is mad about you.

He's been waiting for tonight for a very long time.

Then Edwards. Every little thing that was inconsequential before suddenly had new meaning.

Lord Masen and his wife were kind enough to take me in when they couldn't have children of their own. I believe your parents are the ones I have to thank for ending up as I did.

Would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?

I really would be the luckiest man in the world.

I'm sorry I'm only doing this now.

I won't let you make a fool of yourself, and I won't let anything happen to you, I promise.

You do know me, Bella. Better than anyone.

I hope I don't embarrass myself with admitting that I think I was probably smitten, she was pretty, or at least that's what I thought at the time.

The last happy memories I have of my mother are in the palace kitchen, and the last happy memories I have of Bella are from running through secret passageways and all the little hideouts we'd made around the grounds.

All I could think about was how I could never see Bella again.

I never got to say goodbye to her before I left.

I love Bella, and I know for a fact that won't ever change. I've been in love with her since I was seven.

I don't want you to leave.

I want to marry you.

Feels good, your being worried about me.

Everything he'd uttered to me right up until earlier that night at the ball, when his sweet, genuine words had blown me away.

I'm not here to judge you. Bella, nothing you do could be…wrong for me.

You're you. I don't want you to be anything other than who you are. My friend, my wife, my Queen. I know all of those sides to you will be different, but if they…someday…all feel the same way about me, then nothing could be wrong.

I couldn't hold in the sobs that finally wracked through my body.

He'd been telling the truth all along; I'd made him suffer for weeks with my attitude and hatred towards him. I'd forgotten about him and he was adamant he'd always been in love with me. Coming back and realising I no longer knew him must have hurt so much, but he stayed around, tried to change my mind about him.

But I hadn't completely forgotten him. I'd known his birthday, somewhere deep down inside. I'd known his favourite dessert, too, and it suddenly dawned on me that our swap of chocolate mousse for lemon cake was something we'd done many times before.

Everything about him was true and genuine. He'd remembered my favourite colour and cake after all those years too. He remembered the first day he saw me with perfect clarity, even my soft spot for the chef's homemade ice-cream.

As I thought over everything he'd said and done since arriving in the palace, I became more and more certain that I'd never left his thoughts in the years we'd been apart.

I cried harder, right there in the middle of Edward's bed, angry at myself, angry at the situation. How had I forgotten, why had I let myself block out my best friend? Some of the best parts of my childhood in the palace involved Edward, and my head had ruled them unnecessary baggage.

Edward Cullen – that was his parents' name. Liz and Edward Senior. I could remember her kind face and sparkling green eyes. I could even hear her voice in my head, telling us to run slower, take our time and be careful. I remembered the look she'd get in her eye when she sat us down in the kitchen and made us taste something new. Her excitement would be infectious, and Edward and I would feel like we were in on some state secret.

I didn't remember his father, but I doubt I met him very often, if ever. Edward said both his parents had been present the day he first saw me, but I didn't remember that day. I really was too young. I remembered the day we met with vivid clarity as I sat there in the dark – right down to the sound of the fountain splashing gently beside us when I sat down beside him.

My thoughts drifted to my own parents. They'd made this decision without me, and my father had apologised profusely for it during the ball.

Your mother and I will never forgive ourselves for not telling you sooner, Isabella, but I hope you know we just want you to be happy.

I wanted to race to their suite in the other wing of the palace and demand answers, but my father was sick too, and Edward had already mentioned him asking my parents not to tell me.

It struck me odd that they'd agree so readily, but that was hardly the most consequential thing of the moment.

They'd had nearly seven years to remind me I had a best friend, a best friend who was destined to marry me. It was all connecting in my head. Edward said my parents played a role in his adoption. I'd never wish losing one's parents on anyone, but it seemed like fate had intervened. It would have been highly questionable for a future Queen to marry a "commoner," but with his adoption came a title, and a right to marry into the royal line.

My parents had made sure he wouldn't want for anything, had looked after him in their own way. They'd known all along that we'd marry one day, that he'd be their future son-in-law and successor.

I tried to quell any anger, reasoning that they'd only ever done the best thing for not only me, but Edward as well, but it stuck anyway.

I could have spent the last weeks getting to know my best friend again; not learning all there was about a stranger and trying not to hate him while fighting my feelings for him.

God, my feelings for him.

They'd grown exponentially over the night, the attraction, the excitement, all of it. But now, I had no idea how to feel. I hadn't been in love with him all those years ago, I was only eleven…was it even possible?

It had all been right there for me to see. My parents had decided to arrange our marriage when he'd been ripped so unceremoniously from my life the first time round. They'd always had my best interests at heart. But why hadn't they told me? Why had they let me believe my best friend had left me and was never coming back?

I swiped my tears away with the back of my hand, steeling my frayed nerves and gathering my chaotic emotions. I had to be strong enough to come to terms with it all. I had to be mature enough to deal with it the way I'd been conditioned to.

I hit myself in the face with my pea when I scrubbed my hair back off my face. It would have been funny if I'd been in the right frame of mind. It literally hit me.

My pea.

The reminder that he'd been real had been there all along.

The green, round, stuffed pea with the jet black eyes and soft black nose.

"The Princess and the Pea. Get it?" he asked, smiling shyly.

I did get it. It was my favourite story, and he knew that. He was like that, remembering stuff that wasn't even that important. He was a strange boy, but he was my best friend so it didn't matter. Boys were just weird in general.

"My own pea?" I asked, hating how stupid and young I sounded.

I mean, I was young, and I didn't want to grow up too fast – mother always said I had to make the most of my childhood – but I hated sounding immature around him. He was older and cooler and smarter and I always wanted to be the same. I didn't want him to realise one day that I was just a stupid little girl. I knew I wouldn't like that. I knew that would hurt more than anything.

"What are you going to call him?" he asked, picking blades of grass and chucking them softly at me. I laughed and batted them away from my face.

"Uh…Pea?" I asked, uncertainty laced in my voice.

"You're gonna call the pea, Pea?" He laughed, and even though he was laughing at me and it felt bad, I laughed with him. When he stopped, I knew he'd done that weird thing where he'd read my mind or something.

"Hey, I'm sorry. Pea is cool. Why make it complicated, huh? Least the pea will always know it's a pea…" He scrunched his face up because he knew he was being ridiculous, but it made me laugh and forget about being sad.

"You bought me a pea…" I said suddenly, not quite believing that a boy had gone out and bought something for me.

He wasn't just any boy though. He was Edward and he was my best friend.

The one thing that tied me to him had never been far away from me. I'd clutched him when I was stressed over my exams. I cuddled him when I phoned home to get updates from Rose and my parents. I slept with him tucked into my duvet when I was upset or sick or scared.

I'd been holding onto Edward throughout everything. In some small way, he'd always been by my side, through the good and the bad.

I just hadn't even realised it.

I watched him sleeping, wondering what he was dreaming about and if he was happy he'd finally told me, that I finally knew.

I wondered if he thought things would change, that somehow we'd be magically fixed in the morning.

I slipped down into the covers and clutched my – our – pea. Maybe when morning came everything would be different. Maybe we could pick up where we left off? Just slip into our old ways and lay everything out there in the open.

I had to grow up. I had to be honest, and I had a lot of explaining to do.

I also had a lot to think about, and the first thing I needed to remember to do was ask the doctor for an appointment. I was so terrified there was something wrong with me that I wanted it checked as soon as possible.

I tried to sleep, but it was futile.

Instead I listened to Edward's breathing, checked his temperature and watched the sun gradually rise above the horizon, its light morning rays spilling softly into the room.

Author's Chapter End Notes:

Well, there we have it!

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