A/N:

It's my anniversary today! 11 years as a fanfic writer! Oh my!

Today, in 2010, I posted the first chapter of Origins: A Lost Soul and I had no idea what a journey I started on that day. I was only 16 and knew nothing of the world. Whew, the time flies.

Anyway, I wanted to give you a chapter of what has turned out to be my readers' favorite fic to celebrate. It's time for Isabella to meet the King.

Title: The Duke & The Swan without Wings

Author: MarieCarro

Beta: Alice's White Rabbit

Pre-reader: Brierlynn03

Genre: Historical Fiction/Drama/Romance

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Edward Cullen, the Grand Duke and second son of the King, must find a bride. Isabella Sinclair, daughter of Countess Catherine and Duke Charles, was born out of wedlock and has neither titles nor land to her name. Could she be the bride Edward's looking for? But how is Isabella to marry a man of the royal family without a proper dowry?

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

{CHAPTER 6}

With his heart almost up in his throat, Edward stood stoically next to the throne—usually occupied by himself when his tenants asked for an audience—where his father sat and quietly waited. Everyone in the room wanted to get a glimpse of the girl who had captured the prince's interest.

Fortunately, the only audience in the room were those of the royal family. No ladies-in-waiting, no manservants, and his father had even forbidden his youngest sister's betrothed—Lord Whitlock—to be present, as he wasn't truly considered family until he and Alice had said "I do."

Edward was grateful for that, as he was certain Miss Sinclair would be nervous enough. He had made his siblings and their spouses swear they wouldn't make her visit any more distressing than it already was.

"You may approach her and speak to her one on one after this first initial meeting, but not all at once. I do not wish to overwhelm her and scare her off," he told them, and they had all promised.

One of Edward's footmen appeared through the open arch leading toward the grand hall and farther away to the estate's entrance, and without having to ask, Edward knew Miss Sinclair had arrived. Before his father could say anything or protest, Edward started to walk with large, determined steps in order to meet her in the hall.

It wasn't the usual practice—for a prince to greet his own guests—but with what lay ahead, Edward felt he needed to help Miss Sinclair relax before she had to face his father.

He approached the open entrance doors at the exact moment another footman assisted Miss Sinclair out of the carriage, and at the sight of her, his steps froze. They had only been apart for fourteen days, but he could barely believe he'd almost forgotten her exceptional beauty, enhanced by the silhouette of her dress and her hair pulled away from her face to reveal the rosy cheeks and elegant neck.

Isabella lifted her eyes off the ground and immediately met the prince's astonished expression. She could understand why he was surprised because she had made a true effort to look more lady-like compared to their first meeting. Renée had helped her alter one of Maria's old dresses, which her sister hadn't worn in years—and was intended to be sold, and the silky material made her look the part of a daughter of a duke.

It was cream colored with ruffles around the neckline and lace around the sleeves. Renée had also insisted she pinned a small flower at the center of the bust—a peach-colored rose that was the symbol of the royal family and a sign of respect when meeting with any member of it.

Slowly, she approached the duke and curtsied. "Your Royal Highness," she greeted, and it shook Edward out of his stupor.

"Miss Sinclair, we are betrothed," he reminded her. As if she could ever forget. "There's no need for you to curtsy or address me as your superior." He offered her his hand, and she straightened up.

"My apologies, Your Roy"—she stopped herself before the address was fully out—"my lord. Our previous meeting was rather unique, and I find myself at a loss for how to act," she admitted. Edward saw the color of her cheeks deepen, and he was spellbound once more. "We are betrothed, but I scarce believe this to be naught but a dream."

Edward smiled before taking her hand and placing it around his arm so he could escort her to his family. "Your stay here will surely convince you it's real." He allowed his eyes to follow the crown of her hair down past the curve of her ear toward the slope of her throat. She was truly exquisitely beautiful. As they started to walk toward the throne hall, he leaned closer to whisper in her ear, and Isabella's skin broke into goosebumps. "You already know how to act formally. Keep with that in the presence of my family, but when it's just you and I, I would prefer a bit more familiarity."

Isabella's step faltered. She couldn't fathom being anything less than formal, especially with someone of royal birth. "What do you mean, my lord?"

They were just around the corner from where Edward's family was still waiting, but Edward wanted to make everything clear before the vultures descended. He raised his hand and lightly brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. "I mean I would very much like it if you called me Edward, and in return, if you so wish, I shall call you Isabella."

Hearing her name fall so casually from his lips caused Isabella to have to take several deeper breaths, something Edward immediately noticed as her chest heaved above her neckline. His eyes inadvertently fell to her bust, but he hurriedly directed them up again. He never wanted her to feel uncomfortable around him and especially not because he was giving her inappropriate looks.

"I would like that," she finally said, and he smiled at her, pleased with her words.

He tightened the hand over hers on his arms. "Are you ready then?"

She took a deep breath, and then gave him a small nod.

Together, the two of them entered the throne hall, and while Isabella noticed the entire royal family sitting on the side, her eyes were directed toward the front and the man sitting on the throne.

His Majesty King Thomas I, sovereign and the man who could either make Isabella's dreams come true or shatter them into a million pieces.

Edward stopped them a few feet away from the throne and met his father's eyes steadily. "Your Majesty, may I present to you Miss Isabella Sinclair, daughter of Countess Catherine of Sunfield."

Isabella didn't have to ask why he didn't present her as the Duke of Swanselm's daughter. She wasn't recognized as such, and therefore, her sire was best to be kept out of the conversation, even though he was the reason she had to plead with the king in the first place.

Her thoughts didn't show on her face as she made a deep, full curtsy and stayed in that position, keeping her eyes toward the floor.

"Miss Sinclair, please rise," King Thomas said gently, and she did as told. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Isabella thought her heart would stop. A mere fourteen days earlier, she never would have thought she'd be addressed by the King. "The pleasure is mine, Your Majesty."

Thomas looked toward his youngest son and took a deep breath before directing his attention back to the young woman. "My son, His Royal Highness, has explained your situation, but I want to hear it from you, Miss Sinclair." He gestured with his hand for her to begin.

"Of course, Your Majesty." Isabella bowed her head again, and then told the story as she knew it. "His Grace has never denied he is my father. He even said so directly to His Royal Highness," she finished. "But he won't recognize me either."

Thomas nodded slowly as he absorbed the story. "Everyone, leave us," he suddenly ordered. "I wish to speak with Miss Sinclair in private."

While Isabella froze in shock and terror at being left alone with the King, Edward gently brought her hand up to his lips and placed a featherlight kiss on the back of it.

"Do not be afraid," he whispered. "He's giving you the opportunity to speak freely. Few are granted that chance. This is good." He tightened his hold on her hand for a moment, and then let it go to leave with his mother and siblings.

Anne stopped only for a moment to cup her son's cheek and give him an encouraging smile before she walked off, and all four siblings immediately crowded together while their spouses stayed a distance away.

"She is positively lovely, Edward," Carlisle said and placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "I wish it in my heart you will find a solution to this quandary."

Alice was staring at the closed doors in awe. "She is beautiful. She looked nothing like a bast—"

"Please, refrain from calling her that," Edward stopped his younger sister.

"I apologize," she said, contrite. "I meant no offense."

Rosalie stepped in. "She's not fit to be a member of the royal family yet. She's got manners, and she knows how to carry herself, but she is vulnerable. Not a lot of confidence."

Edward tightened his jaw. "All thanks to her … family." He said the word with disdain. "Can you imagine the hardships she's been through? Being constantly ridiculed by those who are supposed to be closest to you, and no one to confide in."

"It's horrible," Rosalie agreed, and a determined light filled her eyes. "If, somehow, you find a way to be together, I promise I will do everything in my power for her to feel welcome. I'll teach her everything I know about being a princess, and I'll be the sister she never had."

"Me too," Alice chimed in agreement.

"Thank you," Edward said and smiled at his sisters.

In the throne hall, Thomas rose up and walked over to Isabella, who was still frozen in the middle of the room. "Miss Sinclair, I need you to know it is not ordinary for me to grant a private audience with anyone, and especially not a commoner. I am merely doing this for my son, whom I've tried for years to find a match."

He walked over to the large windows and stared out over the grounds, stretching past the line of trees in the distance. Isabella remained in her spot, not even daring to turn her head toward the King.

"Naturally, I feel sympathetic toward your story, and while I believe you've told me all you know, it remains problematic." He looked over his shoulder at her. "Your grandfather, the late Earl of Sunfield, had my utmost respect and gratitude. He saved my father, King Edward II, from a certain death in the war many years ago, and I personally attended his funeral where I met your mother. She was but a young girl then, but I remember her well."

"Your Majesty knows then what sort of person she was?" Isabella asked timidly.

Thomas nodded solemnly. "I do, Miss Sinclair, and I can say with absolute conviction she would never have seduced His Grace while betrothed to his brother. The duke has been a thorn in my side ever since he inherited Swanselm, and it wouldn't surprise me if he's got more illegitimate children running around my kingdom. But"—he walked back to the throne—"therein lies another problem."

Isabella blinked back tears, threatening to push forward. Her heart had already sunk to her stomach, so she couldn't imagine there was more speaking against her. "What, Your Majesty?"

"His Grace has steadily brought ruin to his estate. Most of the family fortune has been gambled off, according to my officials." Isabella gasped at the revelation. "My son has already admitted he entered into your understanding under a false identity, and it's most imperative His Grace doesn't know who he actually promised you to. If he were to find out, I can guarantee he would give my son an ultimatum."

"What sort of ultimatum, Your Majesty?"

"My guess would be he'd promise to recognize you as his daughter if the crown endorsed him with great sums of money and reinstates his good name and reputation. I wouldn't put it past him to demand a seat on my council either."

A/N:

Obviously, Thomas isn't keen on this, but Isabella speaks well for herself.

I hope you have an awesome day. I might open a beer to celebrate my 11th anniversary, but I don't know yet.

Until next time,

Stay Awesome!