Holy shitballs! Do you know how many emails I woke up to this morning just from ffn? 89! I haven't had this kind of reaction since Quarterback Rush. Y'all know how to make a girl feel special! (Of course, my second thought was: Fuck! How is the rest of the story going to live up to expectations now?)

Thanks for TineSoes for catching my incorrect date. BC goes down in number as years pass, not up. Oops!

This isn't beta'd, pre-read, or had anyone look at it but me. Sorry for the mistakes. Lots of fluff that came from a dream I had and turned into this. Sort of-kind of based on Ancient Rome, but mostly made up. Completed in 8 chaplets.

Volturi City, Volterra Empire

Veneralia, 422 BC

Isabella stared out at the passing landscape as the carriage brought her closer and closer to the capitol city. She had never ventured from her home county and didn't wish to now. At twenty and one years, she had counted herself infinitely lucky to still be without a husband, but now dread lined her belly like lead. She was to be auctioned off with all the other unmarried, titled daughters.

"Why has the prince decided to marry so suddenly?" she burst out, startling her mother from the silence.

Her mother patted Isabella's hand with a patronizing smile. "It was time. He is twenty and five, after all. He must secure the bloodline before his father crosses to the Underworld. Veneralia is the perfect time to choose a bride. The festival to honor Venus is a fortuitous time to embark on a new thread of life. She will aid the prince in choosing his bride. It was a boon that your father did not see fit to find a suitor for you before now. Even if the prince does not choose you, there will be many other eligible men to place an offer on you."

Isabella swallowed down her nausea. She would be paraded out like cattle for purchase to the highest bidder. There would not likely be any escape from a husband now. Her heart clenched as a vision of her handsome, copper haired soldier appeared in her mind. She had long held out fruitless hope that he might return. For her. Now that dream was shattered and Isabella cringed at whom she might be given to.

The city walls loomed and the carriage paused at the gate to be granted entrance before surging forward. The bustling sights and sounds of inhabitants rushing to and from assaulted Isabella. The city was exponentially larger than she was used to. All too quickly, the palace was before them and Isabella exited the carriage. The smooth walls with scalloped edges stood tall and proud, radiating strength and wealth.

Wide halls lined with marble floors led her family into their lush rooms, decorated with rich fabrics and large, ornate furniture. Isabella swept her eyes over a four-poster bed in dark wood with red velvet drapes and coverlet, a massive vanity and mirror sitting along one sidewall, and her feet sank into with a soft, detailed rug. It was beautiful and decadent, but Isabella yearned for home. For the olive tree that held the memories of her soldier.

"Isabella, you cannot dawdle. Dress for dinner, you will be presented to the emperor and empress tonight. If they do not approve, you will have no chance for a match at all." Her mother scurried from trunk to trunk, gathering items for Isabella to wear.

Obediently, Isabella pulled on a red silk shift with a slit in the skirt all the way to mid-thigh and crisscrossed a golden rope around and up her torso, giving shape to the fabric to emphasize her small waist and breasts. Then she sat at the vanity while a maid braided and twisted her hair into an elaborate style piled onto her head. She looked regal and elegant, but inside Isabella railed against her fate.

Dinner arrived too soon and Isabella found herself standing outside the dining hall with all the other ladies to be presented. One from each province in the empire. Isabella's heart sank as she examined her "competition." There was no way she could contend with these women. They were far more beautiful, and judging from their glances at her, they knew it.

One by one, each lady was introduced to Emperor Carlisle and Empress Esme. Maggie, from West Fork, was first. Her bright red curls, catlike green eyes, and voluptuous curves made her stand out like a jewel. Alice of First Beach followed, petite and delicate with long, black hair and violet eyes, she was almost ethereal. Tanya from Denali was breathtaking, her reddish-blonde curls and icy blue eyes graced porcelain features that were stunning when composed sweetly, but her sneer of disdain at Isabella ruined her beauty.

Isabella breathed deeply as her name was announced and she entered the room. Massive tables lined three walls, every seat was filled, and all eyes were on her. Her hands trembled and she clasped them together in front of her to hide it. Centered at the table in front of her, were Emperor Carlisle and Empress Esme. Isabella let her eyes take in Carlisle's deep blue eyes, fair hair, and fine features. He was older, but quite handsome still. Esme was a vision with her caramel colored tresses and amber eyes smiling at her. Isabella smiled faintly in return, dipping into a deep curtsey. Relief coursed through her when Emperor Carlisle inclined his head and she stepped to the side.

Last to enter was Rosalie, the shining star of Volturi City. Bright blonde locks and blue-green eyes, she outshone all other females in the room. Her haughty smirk indicated she knew there was no equal to her beauty. Isabella had never felt so desperate in her life. She would end up with the worst offers and the least appealing husband. Tears pricked her eyes, but she refused to let them fall in front of the entire court.

As the ladies moved to their places, Empress Esme stood and addressed the court. "The prince's bride is in this room, the time was ripe for this occasion. I have seen her, and she shall make him a happy match with a fertile womb. The Cullen legacy will be secure." Cheers rang out from the crowds at her words. Confusion and surprise tingled along Isabella's skin.

"Did you not know the Empress was a Prophetess?" Alice whispered as she leaned close. Isabella shook her head. "Aye. Quite good, actually. I also have the Sight. The prince will be more pleased than he expected and many of the ladies presented today shall make good matches." Her gaze focused on Isabella, turning solemn and sad. "But not all."

"Oh," Isabella whispered, turning to her food despite her loss of appetite. It seemed if Alice was correct, all would not end well for her in this arena.

"Try not to fret though, Isabella," Alice added with a gentle pat on Isabella's hand. Isabella did not look up and sat quietly throughout the meal.

Thoughts? We might see the return of Edward next chaplet... ;o)