SORRY SORRY SORRY for the short length. I'm sure you'll get over it, because next chapter is the drunk scence and hopefully that'll be longer.
A little foreshadowing: EDWARD is, yes indeed, in love with ROSALIE but admits that BELLA is beautiful. ELIZABETH is a spaz that has a personality similar to BELLA's. EDWARD still thinks BELLA is a spy, but he does not know her motive or if she has one at all. CHARLIE and EDWARD SR. are in Ireland and EMMETT was in Canterbury. ROSALIE's charater is quite sketchy, and it will only get worse :D MUHAHAHAHA.
Once again, HUGEHUGEHUGE thanks to Leah!!!
EPOV
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I could not seem to get Rosalie Hale out of my head. Every time I looked at Bella, I would see Rosalie's face. Brown eyes would turn blue, dark hair would turn fair, and a small body would grow taller. I stared at Bella throughout the remainder of supper, drinking in Rosalie's features.
Elizabeth was still groaning about the castle votings, but I could care less. A castle was a castle, and that was all that mattered in that area. The thing that made the difference was the government, and the army, and the nobility. They were the ones that should be ranked the highest, and recognized widely, not the castle in which they reside.
I watched Bella eat, imagining it was Rosalie. Bella had excellent manners, I noted, quite extra-ordinary for a spy, or a commoner, or whichever she was.
In the back of my mind, I knew should not be thinking about Rosalie's beauty and more about her abrupt visit to the castle today. I knew I should be thinking about the consequences of letting Bella stay at the castle. But I could not.
As for Bella's allowance to remain here all I could explain to myself was that I was curious. Trying to figure out Bella's agenda was like trying to draw the dark side of the moon – impossible. I supposed that two extra nights would do no harm to my words earlier, there was no need to worry myself about breaking the tradition of the Masen line.
As I watched Bella, her gaze lifted up to meet mine. Her expression was completely blank, showing no emotion at all. I knew she had some kind of emotion. Behind her dark eyes I would pay anyone to suppose that she was brewing up some way to aggravate me further. She was clearly very skilled at that particular task, I had known from the start.
Why, oh, why, was I letting her stay? She will probably only cause me more grief.
"Edward? Edward you should really learn to listen to me when I am talking to you!"
I snapped my eyes up to meet Elizabeth's. My mouth shaped itself into a hard line – an instinctive action I picked up from Father. "My apologies, Mother," I said coolly.
"That is quite all right but be sure to keep up next time." Elizabeth got up, patted my cheek, and walked away. A servant came to pick up her plate of food.
"What did I miss?" I asked Bella, bewildered. Bella was smiling at me with her eyebrows raised. It was irritating.
"Your mother just went on a rant about castles and all the other 'pointless articles' in the paper. You didn't miss much, but it may have been polite to pretend to listen instead of staring at me."
I refused to be put out by her.
To cover my embarrassment, I harrumphed and grabbed the paper off the table where Elizabeth had left it.
"Pointless articles," I sniffed. "I would say that there are much more important articles in this paper by far. There generally is, but Elizabeth never bothers to read those. Such as there is a hunting expedition in Canterbury. I would have gone, of course, if I did not have to stay here to be certain that Elizabeth does not burn the castle down."
I opened the paper to a random page in the center, a few pages after the castle voting which was on the second page in the periodical.
"I agree," said Bella. "There are so much more captivating stories the reporters could find out, like the meeting in Ireland, or, I don't know, the prince of Belgium…"
I was slightly shocked that Bella would know about the meeting in Ireland. Father was there right now, and that was why he was not here to say "no" when I needed him to. But to be polite, I nodded in Bella's direction and read an article about trade in Milan.
As I read, a servant came up and carried my plate away, as another to Bella. She sat with me in silence, her elbow propped up on the table and her cheek resting on her palm. She stared idly at the wall, twisting a lock of her hair around her finger.
"You know," I said after a while, "it is more well-mannered to have all of your hair up. If it falls out of the traditional bun, you should pin it back up."
"What if I do not wish to be traditional?" Bella countered, narrowing her eyes at me. "What if I live for breaking rules?"
"Breaking rules is disrespectful."
"I don't want to be like every other woman."
"Then what kind of woman are you?"
"I want to be the kind of woman who can look at her reflection and see someone who was worthwhile looking back."
I blinked. Bella looked away, her cheeks tinged pink; I returned to my paper. Tired of the small tedious stories, I flipped the paper to the front page.
Princess of France – Missing! the headline blared.
"Bella, have you heard this?" I asked abruptly, holding the paper closer to my face to read the print more clearly.
"Heard what?" Bella said. Her voice sounded distant, as though I had pulled her from a very profound thought.
"The princess of France is missing."
"She what?" Bella shrieked.
"Yes it says –" I began. Before I was aware of what was happening the paper was ripped from my grip and Bella was on the far side of the dining hall, the paper in her hand.
"Isabella," I said in calm outrage. "Give me the paper."
"No," she said. I was taken aback – no one besides Elizabeth and Father had ever said "no" to me before. My anger disappeared abruptly. I clutched at it, willing it to return. I longed for a reason to be enraged with Bella, a motive to have some sense to force her out of the castle, to explain what she was doing to me and why.
"What did you just say to me?" I said. I hoped my voice sounded more threatening to her than it did to me.
"Well, see, umm…" Bella stuttered, blushing. She seemed unaffected by my tone or by my face, which I had arranged to look angry. I stood from my chair and placed both my hands on the table, leaning on it for support.
"Spit it out, girl!"
Bella was immediately defensive, as I knew she would be once I called her any commonplace noun. I did not know why she insisted on me using her name, as she was merely a common girl herself, but I did, to be polite. I was looking ahead to the future – being polite to Bella may pay off in the end. She may be a spy, but she was attractive and her clothing suggested great wealth. I was in this to be the best.
"I have a name," she jeered, placing her hands on her hips. The paper crumpled even more with the movement.
"Do I appear to be concerned?"
She sniffed. "Fine then. No paper for you." Bella took the paper in bother of her hands and ripped it down the center. Then she put the two halves together and ripped them into quarters, and into smaller pieces still, until it was a large pile of scraps in her hands.
"What was wrong with the article of the princess?"
"I just don't want you to read it, okay?"
"No," I said. "Not okay. Tell me right now." I said the last few words with a ringing voice of authority that always worked.
Bella raised her eyebrows. "No."
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Isabella! It was just a story!"
"I am sorry if I offended you in any way by snatching the paper from you or ripping it, because I realize that I do not deserve to be here, wearing your clothes and eating your food. But it's just that –" she stopped. "I just get very defensive when it comes to the French royalty."
"Oh really?"
"Yes. I mean, have you heard about that princess of theirs? She's such a great role model. And it is said she is incredibly beautiful as well as outgoing… and to hear she ran away? Sad day." She shook her head forlornly.
I narrowed my eyes at her. "The French princess has the same name as you, doesn't she?"
Bella hesitated for two heartbeats. "Yes. I am named after her. My mother and father thought the name was elegant."
"Of course," I said. "Very elegant." I took a step towards Bella, standing in the corner with a pile of scraps in her hand. "But Isabella, you are eighteen years of age, are you not?"
"Yes," Bella said quickly, not appearing to think about it.
"And the princess is eighteen too, am I correct?"
Bella's face gave nothing away. "I suppose she is, yes."
"So that would mean the news of the infant princess spread miraculously quickly."
"Well, my family lives very close to the French palace."
"Yes!" I shouted in triumph. "You are French!"
"Merde," Bella said quietly, covering her mouth with her empty hand.
"Tell me something, Bella," I said after a moment. "What is your last name?"
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Beta'd by BubblyAmericanWriter1
A/N: yay Drunk scene next! gotta pee got school tomorrow bye!
B/N: I can sing half the Spanish alphabet song! Hoorah, I am awesome! Instead of the letter names, you sing the letter sounds.
Ah, beh, ca, cha, deh, eh, eff, eh... okay maybe not half, but a good bit!
I will soon be ranting about how wonderful this fanfic is in Spanish! Mark my words!
Yeah... shutting up now :)
A/N: Songs - All things by Boyce Avenue. They rock the world.
Quote - [Mr.] Bartlett: You know who else was a frustrated artist???? HITLER! So watch out.
REVIEW. MY LIFE SUCKS. No really. I'm having guy troubles again :(