XXXVII. Scandalous

"I can't believe you're making me wear this," I said, looking dolefully at myself in the mirror. Whatever he fished out of his sister's wardrobe looked ridiculous, especially in the warm weather: the multiple layers, long sleeves and skirts dragging to the floor... He'd even given me an odd hat he'd called a coronet to fasten the veils covering my neck and hair. I looked like a colourful nun.

My jaw dropped when I saw him enter.

Sweet Jesus.

I didn't have the vocabulary to describe what he'd put on but he looked like he'd escaped from the set of Game of Thrones. What had I set loose upon the world?

"Everyone's going to stare," I groaned.

"It's the latest fashion," he said, arching a brow at me.

I was tempted to tell him his latest fashion was six hundred years late but I'd wasted enough time arguing with him about jeans and fumbling bewilderedly with odd pieces of medieval clothing. My embarrassment about being caught like this paled in comparison to my worry about his sister's return and the nomads prancing about with a vial of my blood.

"Ugh," I said, shaking my head. "Whatever. Let's just go."

Edward caught me around the waist just before I reached the door, spinning me around to face him. I blinked, still not used to the casually possessive way he touched me—as though there was no question that I belonged to him. It made my heart beat just a little faster and I looked at him warily, not knowing what to expect.

A crease formed between his brows and for a second, I thought he was fed up with my complaining but he only examined my face as though I were a difficult book. "Your mind is impenetrable," he murmured, sounding concerned. "I do hope you're not catching Helen's ailment."

It took me a second to digest that.

"Are you calling me crazy?" I demanded.

I tried to pull away but he only held me tighter. "Aren't you?" he said, humour creeping into his eyes. It was such a familiar look that I stilled, looking up at him longingly. Glimpses of the Edward I knew made my heart flutter. And in moments like these, the two seemed to blur together until they were one and the same. "You look lovely, Isabella."

His hand curved around my jaw as he moved closer and I leaned into the kiss, my hands coming to rest on his shoulders. He moved more leisurely this time, taking his time to explore and caress, his other hand coming to knead the back of my neck and when he pulled back, it wasn't just my lips that tingled.

"It seems I've found a way to keep you quiet," he said, smirking presumptuously, and I resisted the urge to take Leah's advice and smack him.

Keeping one arm around my waist, Edward opened the door. He led the way out, eyes trained for any sign of peril—as though the others weren't scared enough of us as it was—and then it was like he became a different person once more. Harder, colder. But unlike before when I'd found it unnerving, I understood it for what it was. Precaution. What kind of world must he have lived in that he could never let his guard down?

This was supposed to his home. Had it always been this way? Or had it become this way after Andronikh's betrayal? The corridors seemed empty but I kept the swiss knife close. I hadn't realised it at first but understanding my glamour gave me a sense of control. I was no longer helpless and it was a good feeling.

When we reached the tall gates, Edward swept me off my feet and into his arms, a brief smile breaking across his face.

"Hold on tight."

I slung my arms around his neck, understanding we had no keys and he was about to jump. Hold on tight. He'd said the same thing in Vienna and the words brought back a déjà vu of blurred colours and a moonlit meadow. We'd been chased but I'd been venom-drunk—even now the memories were tinted with pleasant edges. He sprinted and leapt, clearing it with little effort. His movements were so smooth, I felt little but the wind and the soft jolt as we landed on the other side. "I'll get us a carriage," he said, putting me down.

For a second I only nodded, forgetting where we were. The castle, the clothes, Edward... I was lost in my own thoughts as I slipped my arm through my mate's.

A bright flash of light pulled me rudely back to the present.

"Oh my! What amazing costumes!" a woman exclaimed, clutching her camera. "Do you work at the castle? I hear they're private grounds, but do you know if a tour is possible?"

Every muscle in Edward's body had locked down. I think he might have attacked her if I hadn't been holding him, and still might have, if not for the two little children at her side. The little girl had dark-brown locks and a flower wreath, her hair braided like a princess, and she ran up to me, looking curiously at my long skirt while the tiny boy hugged his mother's leg, peering shyly from behind it.

Keeping my hold tight on Edward's arm, I smiled at the little girl before turning to the woman. "I'm afraid the castle isn't open to the public."

"That's a pity," the woman said. "It does look so grand. Can we take some photos with you? The kids would love it."

I glanced at Edward, who was still frozen, his eyes moving to take in the other tourists milling about, a euphony of languages falling from their lips. We were starting to draw attention and I knew that agreeing to this photo was going to start a queue. Edward couldn't possibly handle it.

"Actually, we're in a bit of a rush," I said, feeling a bit guilty for letting the kids down. "Perhaps later?"

I took Edward's hand and began to lead him away, ignoring all the 'ooh's and 'aah's at our 'costumes'. A car rumbled past and Edward's arm came around me, shielding as though it were a wild animal. Another one passed and his hold tightened. It was only after the third or fourth one followed that his grip slackened and he looked around as though he were in a dream.

"Don't worry, they're just cars," I said. "Kind of like carriages, but faster and without horses."

He didn't answer me, his eyes flickering around to take in the buildings and the people. The midday sun shone down on us strongly, but thankfully, drinking my blood seemed to have lessened the iridescence of his skin and it only gave off a soft sheen. I pulled the medieval veil from my head, shaking my hair loose and using the coronet to fan myself as we walked downhill towards the Piazza. Edward still hadn't said a word.

I let him take it in, shooting curious glances at his face every now and then. Volterra was such a colourful city, with so many street performers that we didn't draw more than a few passing stares. Edward's eyes were darting everywhere—from the cafés to the group of tourists to the accordion player to the little baby being wheeled by her dad in a pram. She grinned up at him toothlessly, waving her half-empty bottle and her dad gave us a startlingly similar smile.

"Shall we got sit somewhere?" I suggested.

"Yes." The word sounded far away, his attention still on the baby before it moved to the upbeat music blaring from a nearby stereo. I wondered if he was going into shock, but he seemed more amazed that upset, so I supposed I didn't have to worry yet.

I took us to the nearest café, still waiting patiently for him to say something. When he didn't, I leaned forward. "I guess it's a lot to take in."

He turned to look at me. "It feels as though I've died," he said at last. "Or that I'm dreaming. But I haven't dreamed in three thousand years. I'm still not certain that you're not an angel sent to give me a final test."

I'd expected him to be shocked or angry or afraid, but I didn't expect this. I laughed in surprise. "I'm not an angel." I paused. "But I could be your angel," I teased.

"I can't think of any other explanation," he murmured. "All I remember is defeating the Romanian coven. All the blood washing into the rivers. I was covered in it." He looked down at his hands as though expecting to see them drenched. "I could smell the smoke, the cloying scent as Ariadnh burned what was left. My sweet sister, the girl who used to share what little bread we had with wounded pigeons. Her hands were full of blood too."

He glanced at some children as they ran past us, playing catch and using their mother as a shield, much to the amusement of other onlookers. As her coffee tumbled inevitably to the ground, she plucked the smaller child, placing him onto her lap as the other began to pout.

"It wasn't anything unusual," Edward continued. "It was just another siege, but that day, something prickled within my mind. I could hear something call forth to me deep from within the earth. This is not what you are meant to be. All of you. There are missing pieces but the next thing I know, Andronikh had tricked me. He had me torn into pieces like an enemy, and I heard him make plans to kill the humans he'd glamoured to hide me—so that not even he knew my location. I remember the endless, suffocating darkness that followed. And then you." His eyes found mine. "I must have failed the first test after I took vengeance on my brother. Now you're giving me another chance."

His words were making me anxious, most of all his revelation of the voices he'd heard. A disease of the mind. It's common among Old Ones and there's nothing to be done. I reached across the table and covered his hands. "Edward, I promise you, you're alive," I said. "And I'm just human." Although I wasn't completely sure about that part now. Leah has a theory that you're a witch.

"When were underground, you put me to sleep," he said. "Or perhaps one of the Guards ended me. Whichever it is—"

All right, that was it. I'd officially had enough. "Do you really prefer to believe that you're dead over believing you're in 2019?" I interrupted.

He looked at me, bemused. "How can I be in the future? How can it suddenly be so peaceful and how," he looked down at my hand cradled between his. "How can I open my eyes and find my mate before me? A mate I hadn't found in three thousand years. It is too perfect, of course it cannot be real."

I saw where he was coming from but things were really, really far from perfect and as much as I knew I needed to take it slow, we didn't have the time. I needed him to believe me and I needed to get him on my side before the others came back.

"Maybe I should slap you," I muttered. "Then things won't be so perfect and you'll believe me."

His eyes flashed with amusement. "You are incredibly unladylike."

"Because I'm not a lady," I bit out, nonetheless a bit stung. "I'm just someone who's been trying to convince her pig-headed mate that he's neither dead nor has he time travelled, he's just lost his memories. Unfortunately, I'm starting to doubt that even a real-life angel can convince you that I'm telling the truth."

He leaned towards me, his eyes glittering like jewels. "All right, Isabella," he said. "I shall humour you. How did it happen? How did I lose my memories?"

I knew the question was going to come sooner or later but I still couldn't look at him. He was going to hate me, I was sure of it. Or at the very least, he was going to be furious and I wouldn't blame him. I had all but twenty-one years of memories and the years were precious. It would've been as though someone had stolen a part of me. I'd stolen almost six hundred years from him.

Edward's hand curled around my cheek "It's unusual for you to be so quiet," he said, tilting my face up. "I'm not sure I like it."

I took a deep breath, still unable to meet his gaze.

"It was my fault," I said, forcing the words out. "I don't know why but I can glamour vampires. It's how I made you sleep. I couldn't control it at the time and I... I erased your memories. I'm sorry."

For the longest time, he didn't speak. I thought he was going yell at me or walk away but he only sat there, not saying a thing and I made myself ride out the silence for a long as I could, knowing it wasn't fair for me to cry or defend myself. I'd done something terrible and I had to own it. But then I couldn't take it anymore.

"I didn't mean for it to happen," I said dejectedly. "I tried to bring them back but my glamour doesn't work that way. I'm sorry, I really am. I—"

His hand covered mine. "Mistakes happen."

I finally dared a glance and saw him gazing at me with something like frustration.

"Isabella," he said. "I do not fully understand what you mean. I am not skilled in... I am not like my sister, who always knows what to say. I have not had many relations with others outside of my family. But you are my mate and I intend to honour that bond."

I nodded slowly, not fully understanding what he meant. His expression didn't match his words and what did all of this have to do with his memories?

He exhaled impatiently, emotion flaring up in his eyes—not anger, I realised, but discomfort and uncertainty—this Edward had eyes clear as a crystal.

"What I mean to say is that I would like you to feel safe... with me." The last two words looked like they took the effort of pulling teeth.

"I do," I said, confused.

"You look terrified," he pointed out.

"I just feel terrible about what I did."

"Well you did not intend for it to happen," Edward looked around, eyeing a teenager as he walked past with an ice-cream. "Certainly, it isn't all right but I wouldn't blame you, Isabella."

I think I was slowly starting to understand him. He hadn't been angry with me, he'd had no idea what to say. And how should he? If I understood correctly, he'd spent most of his life destroying, not soothing. Everything he'd painstakingly learnt in the last five centuries, I'd erased. But the good was still in him. He was still the same Edward I loved, only less polished than when I'd met him.

"Bella," I corrected.

"Sorry?"

"My friends call me Bella," I told him.

"Is that what we are—friends?" This time, I anticipated the twinkle in his eyes before I saw it. He was the same person. I'd just been too blind to see it.

I moved closer and hugged him, burying my face in his chest. He stiffened in surprise before softening into the hug, his hands resting tentatively on my back. "I suppose this is appropriate in 2019?" he muttered. "It feels quite scandalous."