I'm so very sorry for the delay in updating. A lot has happened in six weeks. My 18 year old daughter up and moved out... to another state! And only gave me two days notice... My aunt, who bravely fought her battle with colon cancer for 4 and a half years, finally succumbed to her illness a couple of weeks ago. So my muse has been missing. But I finally tracked that bitch down and here we are.

Thanks to my sis, Mandy, and to my dear BeLynda for their priceless advice and guidance. They make it pretty, I make it funny... sometimes.

The American Princess Chapter 7
Bella's POV

There are six very well contained people looking back at us. I'm sure that good manners will dictate how they'll act towards me. Their faces will hold a distant politeness but it's their eyes that I'll be watching. I'm not sure what etiquette they expect me to follow here but I refuse to cower in their presence.

I subtly throw my shoulders back and determinedly make eye contact with every one of them. First up is Marcus, who has arranged himself next to the family as if he were one of the royals. His blue eyes narrow briefly, then all I can see is his dismissal. I am not worthy of his attention.

Next is Rosalie. She's a tough one … defensive … as if she has had to break through all the barriers being a woman of royalty in modern times holds. I sense a kinship that I'm willing to explore at a later time. If I'm still here, that is.

Then there's Alice. Edward has said she is a fan of mine and I see that. Her eyes are sparkling with an excitement that is almost too much for her as she does her best not to smile. I admire her ability to stay in her royal character.

Jasper does break protocol but only slightly and not where anyone else could tell. The corners of his lips turn up just a little and his eyes are soft but wise. He's an old soul much like myself.

Queen Esme … lovely, sweet but worried. Obviously pulled between her loyalty to her husband and the Crown and her son's happiness. Her eyes are kind and almost welcoming.

Finally, we come to King Carlisle. He's stiff, cold, unyielding. His eyes are as dead as his facial expression, much like Marcus. This one could win all the poker games. Over the years it seems the Crown has become everything to him. I told Edward the truth—I won't let his father intimidate me.

My assessment takes less than a minute but since no one made a move to say anything, I take fate into my own hands and elbow Edward which interrupts his glaring contest with his father.
He immediately looks down at me.

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" I hint.

"Of course! Forgive my manners, Bella. Family, this is Isabella Swan of Forks, Washington. Bella, this is my family. You already know Marcus, of course. Please, meet my sister, Rose, my sister-in-law, Alice, brother, Jasper, my mother, Esme and my father, Carlisle."

Now, I may have been born poor and I don't know too much about social etiquette but I do know how to rock a curtsey compliments of one of my many movie roles.

I execute the move while maintaining eye contact, which I'm sure is scandalous, but like I said, I refuse to cower.

"It's very nice to meet all of you and I look forward to getting to know all of you over the next few days."

"Just how long do you intend to stay, Miss Swan?" Carlisle asks. His voice is rich and commanding, like the King he is.

"For as long as your son wants me," is my simple yet honest reply.

"Then there is no need for us to extend any courtesy beyond these introductions."

Oh, is this how he wants to play this? Okay.
Edward opens his mouth to defend me but I quickly stop him.

"I know that you decided before you even met me that I am not worthy of your son or your time but if I may say something. You have nothing to fear from me. I'm independently wealthy so I am not after his money. I am intelligent and well read. I'm creative. I like to think I'm kind. I serve on many charities, giving back to those less fortunate, not because I have to but because I want to. However, none of this matters because the fact is I just met your son and barely know him so this conversation is entirely moot."

Carlisle raised his right eyebrow.

"It's relevant because my son brought you here to meet us. He has never done that before so you'll excuse my impatience with this obvious ploy to manipulate me into giving him what he wants. And that, my Dear, is not you. Not only because he was sleeping over at Kate's just four days ago, but because you are decidedly unsuitable for royal life."

"How so?" I challenge. I mean, I already know the answer but might as well make him say it.

"You're American."

"Like Lady Gaga says, I was born that way. Much like you were born British."

"You're an actress."

"Well, it wasn't possible to be what I really wanted."

"Which was?"

"A Unicorn," I sighed. Emmett coughed somewhere behind me. The king, however, just looked constipated.

"You have tattoos."

"Tattooing is a widely accepted way of expressing oneself."

"You publicly assaulted a grown man."

"Who was completely and totally out of line with his treatment of me. He had it coming and I would do it again if I'm ever in the same situation. But I'm not normally aggressive."

Carlisle sighs in frustration.

"You're not titled."

I smile, sadly. "And that's something I can't change. I know I'm not Kate but if Kate was a better option, she would be here right now. And she isn't."

"Kate isn't here because even a British title can't buy you class," Rosalie interjects. I'm not sure if it's just a simple statement or if she is defending me.

"Rosalie, please do not speak out of turn," Carlisle demands. Rosalie sniffs and resumes her impassive stature.

"Carlisle," Esme admonishes gently. His glare softens as he glances ever so slightly at his wife.

"Esme, this ruse needs to stop at once. I will not negotiate."

The fuck?

"Negotiate, Your Highness? I'm not a terrorist. I'm an American born, tattooed, seemingly aggressive, non-titled actress who met your son under unusual circumstances."

Carlisle levels his gaze on me.

"You seem like an intelligent girl so let me ask you this. Why would you let my son involve you in family turmoil that has nothing to do with you if you don't have an agenda of your own?"

Oh, he's good, but like the good poker player that I am, I can't show my hand just yet.

"There is no agenda here at all. We were at a charity ball, I threw my shoe and it accidentally broke his nose. It's not everyday I break someone's nose. Well, you know, except for before ... but I didn't mean to break his nose so it totally doesn't count. Edward's, I mean. I totally meant to break James' nose." I laugh. "I didn't even know who your son was. Things just between us just happened from there. We found that we have some things in common and we enjoyed spending time together. He asked me to join him here and I accepted." I gaze adoringly up at Edward. "It was just fate, I guess."

Alice sighs, dreamily and Carlisle side eyes her. To her credit, she doesn't acknowledge his ire.

"I don't believe in fate, Miss Swan."

"I didn't imagine you would," I say softly. I decide to try another angle. "But I'm not here to start trouble. Emmett and I can stay at a hotel if that's easier. Then Edward can be spotted leaving my place instead of Kate's." I smile as innocently as I can, but I know a scandal is the last thing Carlisle wants.

"Nonsense," Esme chimes in. "Of course, you and your friend can stay here. We have plenty of room." She shoots a dark but meaningful look at her husband and to his credit, he backs down. Though he looks most unhappy.

As my Grandma Higginbotham always said, tough titties.

"I do believe it is time for tea," the Queen adds. "Then you can freshen up before dinner. Jet lag can be so trying."

Edward looks at me triumphantly.

Not so fast, Eddie Boy. This is only the beginning.

***TAP***

Tea or, as we Americans call it, lunch, is an interesting affair. I expected it to be calm and refined but instead it was lively. I think it was the addition of Grace and Alivia that made the difference as they made their way to everyone telling us all about their day. Or maybe it was the way their mother talked my ear off about how big of a fan she was. Or maybe, just maybe, it was how Emmett was making a fool out of himself with Rosalie. Either way, it was very enjoyable.

"You handled yourself beautifully in there," Edward leans over to whisper.

"I've met worse people than your father. But luckily for him, I didn't react the same way I did with James."

"What did happen with that?" He's curious, but I'm not ready to share that with him yet.

"He was just really inappropriate. Maybe one day, I'll give you the full details but for now that's all you get."

"Fair enough. How's your scone?"

I look down at my fancy pastry. "It's actually wonderful. I'd love the recipe."

"Oh, Mrs. Cope will never part with that. How do you think she's stayed employed for the last six decades?"

"Sixty years? Holy shit!" I exclaim.

That brings tea to a halt as everyone looks at me in shock.

I hear, "What's holy shit, Mummy? Will we learn that in church?"

I mouth 'I'm sorry' to Alice as I cringe but she just waves it off with amusement. "You'll learn that when you're older, Dear. It's like the Holy Spirit only for grown ups. Now off to bath time with you both." She beckons the nanny and the children are whisked away as I try to control my facial expressions.

Emmett doesn't even try as he laughs. "Leave it to you, Bells."

"Do you always speak in front of children with such vulgarity, Miss Swan?" I feel Edward tense next to me and I place my hand on his strong, muscular, hard … where was I going with this? Oh, yeah. King Constipation asked me a question.

"No, normally just adults, Your Highness. However, I do believe that vulgarity, as you call it, is an expression of my character just as much as the artwork on my body."

"Well, I happen to find your character completely lacking."

"I don't recall asking you but I'm well aware that I'm not everyone's cup of tea," I say, as I raise my actual cup of tea to him in a mock toast.

As the king bores his hostility into me, the rest of the room fades away as I realize that, yes, I may have won this battle, but in doing so, I have just started the war.

Now, I know some will question how Bella could be so rude to a King... this is fiction and a comedy, so roll with it.