A/N: I want to warn you all again that this fic does not follow history...I made some stuff up. However, its not really vital to the plot line. JSYK.

Special thanks to JandMsMommy for beta-ing this chapter for me!

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.

Don't forget to review!

Chapter 2: Inconspicuous Girl

"Ow!" I called out angrily.

"If you would just stand still I could finish this. It doesn't help me take these measurements with you moving every which way." The seamstress responded to my impatient movements by grabbing my shoulders, forcing me into a still figure. "I only have two days to get this dress finished."

"Don't finish it, and maybe I won't have to go." I pleaded.

I was half-hopeful Mrs. Weber would agree. My father, much to my dismay, made it clear it was not my choice to go entertain the Prince. I had begged him to send word that I caught sickness, but he merely sighed indignantly and scolded me on what it was to be a proper lady. Apparently, I lacked the manners that a young woman should encompass.

"I should just leave you at Court to learn your place." He promised.

"You wouldn't…" I started but stopped myself when he gave me a look that said 'do not tempt me further'. Therefore, I did not.

I was poked again, and Mrs. Weber brought me back to the present by boasting in excitement for me.

"Isabella you are lucky to be called upon. The Kings Court!" She enthused, "Any available young woman should be honored. Just imagine the possibilities!"

She got quiet then, but the smile that was on her face never faltered. She continued to poke and prod me until her measurements were exact. I suspected she would make this dress as beautiful as she could. I mutely sighed and prayed that the dress would be horrendous.

Her inciting remarks earlier did not leave me with a good feeling, and she sensed my discontent. A look of concern was on her face as she contemplated what to say to me. Mrs. Weber had been a friend of my mother's, the very person who taught her how to construct her own dresses.

Mrs. Weber had a daughter, Angela, who married a Nobleman out of love. I suddenly felt envious of Angela. Even though I had not been told to marry Prince Edward Cullen yet, I was still being trotted in front of him like a piece of fruit at his disposal.

Angela was lucky. Love was rare. People did not marry for love. Marriage was chosen on how well the family, or men, benefited from the agreement. It was more than often used for social and political gain.

That thought brought me up short. What did the King and Prince have to gain from me?

"Bella," Mrs. Weber used my mother's nickname for me and brought my attention back to her. "You must be scared silly."

I did not say anything.

"You have nothing to fear, my dear. It is merely dinner with the Royal family. That is all." She stared at me for a long moment and then sighed.

"You shall not fear the Prince."

I spent the morning sulking about my room, waiting until the very last minute to get ready for the Prince. I would have waited longer, but Mrs. Weber had sent fresh flowers and a maidservant up to my room to help me.

"Such a scent." I inhaled the flowers as I sat down on the small stool.

"Yes, they will look lovely in your hair." She quipped.

She immediately got to work on my hair, bringing the soft curls up and pinning them loosely. She strategically placed the flowers in the mound of hair. I did not have to look in the looking glass to know that it was beautifully done.

She had me stand up as she went to get the dress that lay on the bed. It was gorgeous, of course. It was a mix of deep green satin and velvet. The corset was beautifully constructed, and small jewels lined the very top. The thin, satin sleeves would barely cover the shoulders.

The fit was immaculate. I silently cursed Mrs. Weber while secretly loving the dress.

"It is amazing," I whispered to no one in particular.

"Yes it is. It compliments your entire physique, Miss Swan."

I was shocked when the maidservant pulled out a small velvet bag. When she emptied the contents, a small diamond necklace sparkled as it was exposed to the sun from the window. I gasped at its beauty.

"The Duke asked that you wear this tonight." She said quickly.

I wondered where my father would have retrieved such a beautiful piece of jewelry. Could it have been my mother's?

"It is quite charming," I said as I sat down once more in order for the servant to put it on me.

She did not respond, but she started to poke around on my head. I had assumed that she was perhaps fixing some stray pieces, but then she announced that she was finished.

"But…the necklace?" I asked.

"It was a hair jewel, Miss Swan. Look in the glass. You look, well…you look like a princess."

She was right. It was beautiful. The small diamonds fell over my hair in the same way a small tiara would. I abruptly realized the reason for such a jewel.

My father was good. He was going to show the Prince what I would look like as his. A princess.

My father looked me over as we waited in front of the hearth for the carriage. He had a look of approval on his face but a poignant look in his eyes. I meant to ask him about the hair jewel, but I was interrupted by the announcement of the carriage arriving.

I pulled on my riding cloak and followed my father into the coach. I sat across from him and started idle chat, but his mind seemed to be elsewhere. Instead, I looked out the small window and watched the green beauty as we were pulled to the Cullen Castle.

My thoughts drifted to Jacob, and I found myself contemplating my feelings for him. Yes, I found him attractive both mentally and physically but did I love him?

The fact that I have to consider my answer ultimately led me to believe that I did not love Jacob Black. I decided that I was merely infatuated with the man. I certainly would know if I loved him. Love is a sure thing; it is undeniable, an emotion that completely consumes you.

Or so I thought.

Maybe my feelings for him had to do with the fear of becoming a spinster or to save me from a doomed life with Prince Edward?

It was painful to feel so unsure of something that could feel right.

I should be elated with the possibility of one day being Queen. Especially since I am already nineteen and unmarried. I am on the fence with my spinster years. Most women get married around seventeen; sometimes earlier. The fact that I have caught the interest of a Prince should send me onto cloud nine.

It does not.

"Isabella, I am aware of your feelings on this particular affair. I trust that you will make your best effort to acknowledge your fortune if this were to come about positively for you."

My father broke the silence as the Cullen Castle came into full view from the coach window. He was looking at me severely. When I looked over at him, his eyes softened, and he cleared his throat.

"You look just like her." He said more to himself than to me.

I did not saying anything, but he must have saw the quizzical expression on my face.

It was quiet for a moment, and then he finally answered with, "She wore that..." He pointed to the hair jewel. "...on our wedding day."

So it was my mother's.

I started to fidget with the clasp to my cloak. I was trying to think of something to say to my father. I was not sure if he needed to be appeased or not. I could not stop thinking about the significance of the jewel on my head. By the time I had thought of something to placate my father with, the moment had passed and he was adrift in his thoughts again.

We stayed silent until we reached the courtyard of Cullen Castle. My father briefly went over his expectations for me, and I reluctantly agreed. We were lead to an alcove in the castle. It had a small loveseat and large, plush pillows thrown on the floor for extra sitting. I was starting to quaver so I sat down and took some deep breaths.

A few minutes later, a tall blonde man in a red coat came to fetch us. He introduced himself as Jasper Whitlock, and I stiffened at the name. He was a well-known leader of the King's army. He led us into the dining hall where we were the first to be seated. He sat down next to my father, and little by little the entire table filled, save for three spots.

The instruments started, and everyone turned their attention as the Royal family walked through the golden archway. Suddenly, my breath caught in my lungs. I nearly passed out from holding it there when my eyes met with the emerald green eyes of Prince Edward.

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-Wings