Disclaimer: i do not own Twilight; i don't even want to!

CHAPTER THREE

"Too afraid to go inside
For the pain of one more loveless night
But the loneliness will stay with me
And hold me 'til I fall asleep"

~ Christina Perri

The King is dressed in the fashion of the English monarchy in the 21st century – a fine suit in sleek, modern material and a crest embroidered sash.

Bright, tawny eyes asses me critically as he slowly approaches; the people who had walked in behind him stopped and I paid them no mind. My stomach jumped to my throat as the King's cat-like pupils narrow. "So this is the daughter?" he asks aloud, rhetorically; he knows who I am.

He's just playing mind games.

Part of me longs to ask him if he is the King but I force the words to stay trapped in my throat.

My future here was as good as guaranteed. But that didn't mean much – not until it was guaranteed.

Instead, I nod. "Yes, Your Majesty," I murmur, ignoring the muffled gasping groan from behind the King. All of my attention is devoted to making this impression – I was under no illusions that the King could decide to send me back to Earth where I was sure to be locked up by my father.

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen, Sir."

The King's eyes widen and he steps back. "You're a mere child!"

I stiffen, raising my chin defiantly. If only he knew how much of a child I am not – not with the loss of my mother, the isolation of my life and the two psychic abilities battling it out in my head. "I am almost seventeen, Sir."

The King continues to frown, begins to pace, tugs on the ends of his thick hair. He is silent, occasionally glancing at me and at someone behind him.

"How long until you are older?"

I am startled by the sudden question. "A few weeks, Sir."

The King nods. "Then the mating will have to wait until then. Congratulations, Edward. You got the time you wanted."

"Thank you, Father."

My heart trembles at the sound of his voice – deep and gravely, accented just enough to be interesting but not enough to stand out. I feel my face heat and lower my eyes to the ground as the King makes a grunting sound, moving over to one of the larger thrones; the people who had been silently following him also move onto the thrones.

They were not mere citizens of the planet, then.

They were the royal family.

"What is your name?"

I swallow down the nerves that had begun to crawl back up my throat and answer the question that was asked by one of the females seated on a throne. "Bella Skye."

She repeats my name, rolling it on her tongue. She is extraordinarily beautiful – even more so than Alice – with honey-toned skin, rich caramel hair and clear green eyes. She is the queen, dressed in a silky shoulder-bearing green dress, several swirling lines marking her collarbones. "Bella, welcome to Leumin."

"Thank you, Your Majesty-"

"Call me Esme," she demands kindly, smiling gently. There is something intensely maternal about the Queen and my heart longs to reach out to her. She seems so familiar to me, like my own mother is in the room with me though Esme looks nothing like my mother. "This is my husband, Carlisle, and our children, Edward and Rosalie."

She gestures to two young Leumian's sitting in the slightly smaller thrones, off center to the King and Queen's.

Rosalie looks to be around my age or Alice's, her face angular like all Leumian but soft at the same time though still haughty as she pointedly scrapes her gaze across my form. Her hair is somewhere in between the shade of her parents and her eyes are the exact shade of her mother's. Rosalie's markings on her shoulders seem to be faint, as if they are still developing.

Edward – the Prince – is stunning and intimidating.

I first notice his height, taller than his father, his body more lithe and lethal, overflowing the throne he lazily leans on. His jaw is chiseled, his nose perfectly straight and his eyes a particularly vibrant shade between green and blue. His wild hair is striking, a deep copper near at the roots that fades into white-blonde at the tips.

Unlike his sister, his perusal of me is subtle. Bored, even.

But I can see a certain heat in his eyes that make makes me shiver.

"Alice, would you be a dear and show Bella to one of the guest rooms?" Esme orders more than asks before turning her steady gaze to me. "We were going to allow you to stay with Edward-"

"But we were under the impression that you were older." Carlisle cuts in, his eyes narrowing in suspicion again before they clear and he glances apologetically at me and his son.

Father had lied about my age, that much was clear. But why? And why did it matter if I was seventeen before I married – mated – the Prince?

Again, the secrets of the Leumian people hits me, the weight of curiosity weighing heavily on the forefront of my mind.

I glance at Edward once more, absorbing his carefully schooled expression, before I follow Alice and Jasper out of the throne room and down more winding hallways. Futilely, I try to memorize the path we take so I will be able to navigate my way around the castle myself.

But I remain confused as the rounded hallways all look alike and I am used to the much simpler modern structures of Earth. I could only hope that, in time, I would be able to find my way.

I do, however, manage to catalogue all of the different and new metals that were built into ever facet of the palace – the lights, the floors, the walls, and the décor. Everything was metal based, it seemed.

Part of me was intrigued by this – on Earth, it was so uncommon to find metal-infused items, let alone metal-based. It was exciting to be surrounded by all of the metallic material.

Another, more dominant, part of me is pleased that I would have the means to protect myself if I ever needed to.

I couldn't wait to begin training with these new metals, dashes of excitement rushing through my body. The days on the shuttle had caused built up energy; I wanted nothing more than to push myself, stretch my abilities as far as they could go.

Alice stops at a peculiar white metal door, which slides open as she presses her hand against the wall beside it. "This will be your room," she tells me happily. "I will collect you for the last meal of the day!"

Alice and Jasper quickly scurry down the hall, his tall body overshadowing hers – but the love between them is real and makes my chest ache.

I think about the Prince as I examine my bedroom – the suspended bed near the ceiling, held by nothing but air, the tall, narrow windows that view the same valley as the throne room, the mixture of Renaissance décor and alcove couches that occupy the rest of the space.

Would the Prince one-day look at me in the same way Jasper looks at Alice? I had reason to suspect – and, strangely, hope – because of the heat in his eyes when he looked at me.

Did Leumian's experience the same lust the humans did?

And what of this mating? Was it meant to describe a marriage or the clinical, scientific act?

I collapse into an alcove couch, cradling my head in my hands, trying to force my mind to stop running so quickly. I stay that way for an immeasurable amount of time before I heave out a huge sigh and stand, making myself sit in the center of the room facing the windows. My legs are crossed in front of me and my hands rest palm up on my thighs, my back straight but my shoulders relaxed.

I begin breathing slowly, holding the air in and counting to ten before I let the breath out. Again and again I repeat the pattern until all I can hear is the sound of my breathing. Completely relaxed, I open my eyes and raise my hands in front of me, urging the random metal materials in the room to gather in my line of sight.

I am shocked to find how light some metals are and how astonishingly heavy the others are – there doesn't seem to be any metals that fall into the middle area. Those are, normally, my target metals because they have the most impact in the shortest amount of time.

Leumian seems to lack the metals that make it easy to protect myself.

Lighter metals would work, of course. But it would be too time consuming to be constantly pulling light metals. And the heavier metals would significantly drain me, making me more vulnerable.

I bite my lip as I concentrate on breathing again, unconsciously letting the lighter metals dance together while the heavier metals seem to slowly droop to the floor.

I am so focused on keeping myself from panicking that I do not hear the sliding of the door behind me – metals continue to float around the room as my eyes drift shut so I can better dissect the weight of the heavier metals.

A loud curse fills the room.

The metal objects drop with several loud clangs.

My eyes snap open as my torso twists, a heavy metal rising from the ground and flying towards the intruder with such great velocity that my head begins to ache.

Edward ducks down at the last second; the metal crashes into the now closed sliding door.

Slowly, I realize the events and mortification seeps into my pores. Edward stands warily, his tall body menacing though his body language is not – a few muffled words in a language I do not know escape his perfect lips before his vibrant eyes catch mine.

"It seems your father also lied about your talents." His voice is low and accusatory and I can see the paranoia creeping into his consciousness – in fact, I can almost read his thoughts just from the expression on his face.

He thinks I have been sent here as a spy, an enemy.

And I have no solid evidence to prove him wrong.

So, I say nothing. I do not look away. I do not make the metals on the floor, some probably broken, to right themselves. I do not even breathe as his eyes grow more and more cold, as his fists clench and his jaw tightens.

But when he takes a hard step towards me, my body reacts – the center of my brain tingles as waves of pure energy rush down my arms and into my fingertips and all of the metal in the room rises around me.

Edward stops, his mouth dropping open slightly and I can only imagine what I must look like.

My hair, short as it is, is probably beginning to rise by itself from my face just like the metal objects rise in the air by themselves. My small body is folded up and my face is tense with fear.

They will send me back.

They might even kill me.

For all I know, psychics – and those with gifts far beyond the norm – are considered evil on Leumin. They might wish to eradicate such a threat.

My death at the hands of these people wouldn't even be considered a crime by the Seven – not if the Leumin's truly believed that they were protecting themselves and their planet.

But instead of yelling or trying to attack, Edward takes a step back, his hands and face relaxed. He makes soft, soothing sounds at me like one might make to a wild animal.

Perhaps he did see me as nothing more than an animal – I am, after all, an alien to him. Not Leumin. And certainly not normal.

I force my body to relax; feel my hair settle around my face and the metals return to their original spots. I begin breathing deeply to center myself and force the electricity in my fingers to migrate away.

"What else can you do?" Edward asks quietly. I can tell he struggles to keep the edge out of his voice.

"That is all." But then it occurs to me that he would not have been able to see the talent that the people on Earth know about. "I can shock people," I say quietly, feeling my body cringe.

"I see," Edward says flatly.

I wonder if he really does see.

He is so extraordinary; I have to force my face not to reveal how much I appreciate his appearance. Instead, I ask the question that had begun to burn in my mind. "Why are you in here?"

And just like that, his face closes off. "I have authorization to be in this room."

"Not from me."

Edward's face forms into a sneer that flashes the sharp incisors of his white teeth. "I do not require authorization from you."

My face heats as a force a numb mask over it, ignoring the sting of tears that had begun to gather behind my eyes. This was the most inopportune time for emotions to push their way to the surface.

Edward inhales and his face falters for a moment before he gruffly speaks. "Alice is occupied at the moment and I have come to guide you to the meal."

I nod and stand, careful to keep him from seeing my face, careful not to look at his and careful not to stand too close to him – partially in shame for allowing my emotions to guide my words and partially because I do not want to form an attachment to his presence when it is obvious he does not want me here.

Perhaps the Prince was forced into this arrangement, as well. I stomp on the questions that begin to form from that thought – why would he even need to agree to this when his looks are so…

I do not finish that thought before we arrive back in the throne room which now is decorated with tables and chairs, again in a confusing mixture of future styling's and Renaissance themes.

I am seated in a chair across the table from Edward and beside his sister, who does not spare me a glance. I keep my head down as food is served. I listen to the quiet conversations going on around me and pick at my food, mostly pushing it around the plate. The food is surprisingly good – what I do eat, that is - though it is much more colorful than what I am used to eating.

The others at the table pay me no mind, although I do feel several pairs of eyes looking at me from time to time – or one set of eyes looking at me nearly constantly.

I do not care either way.

After the meal is cleared, Edward walks me back to my room and though I do not look at him, I hear his mouth open and close several times. I do not spare him a glance when the door of my room slides close, separating them.

It is all I can do, at that point, to hold in the sob that has grown in my chest.

Alone, I let the emotions had had been pushing down bubble to the surface. They break in violent, body shaking cries as I process them individually.

Once I am done crying them out, I am exhausted, having just enough wherewithal to move myself onto the alcove couch.

Sleep comes easy, blissfully deep and dark.

I wonder how many times I will have to cry myself to sleep on this beautiful planet.

And with that thought, I begin to wonder about the slight haze that had been my companion the entire night.

It hits me while I hover in that place between asleep and awake – my brain was trying to adjust to the higher level of oxygen. It would explain so much about the day.

It was no excuse, of course. But it was an explanation that soothed my tired mind and body.

When I woke, it was to quiet tapping outside my door.

I stumble, feeling feverish and damp with sweat, off of the couch, leaning my body against the wall as the door slides open.

The happy expression on Alice's face vanishes when she takes in my crumpled form. "Jasper!" she screeches, rushing towards me to support my body as I slump towards the floor.

Jasper, who had apparently been just down the hall, takes in the scene before him with barely contained horror. "What's wrong with her?"

Alice's voice is panicked when she answers. "I-I don't know. Fever? This is the first human….Help me get her onto the bed!"

Stronger arms lift my body while I hear the quick clicking of Alice's steps before I am placed onto the hovering mattress. I am too exhausted to even wonder how the bed was lowered to the ground.

"Alice, it doesn't look like she slept here," Jasper says quietly.

"Edward was supposed to…" Her voice fades out in time with the rush of white noise filling my ears. "Jasper, go get the Healer and Edward. He should be here to see…He should have…"

I feel cool hands on my face after the sound of the door sliding closed fills the room. "I should have seen this, Bella. I'm so sorry…"

Sometime later – it could have been seconds or hours – I hear a flurry of voices and footsteps and shocked gasps.

"The first human on the planet and this happens to her. I thought humans were supposed to be compatible with…" This voice sounds old and unfamiliar but the hands that accompany it are soft and warm. "What did she eat? Touch?"

"I don't know." His voice is muffled and quiet, strained but I know that it is the Prince.

"Edward! How can you not know? She's your-"

"Did she seem ill before?"

"I don't know…"

"Her temperature is so high for a human. I don't know if I'll be able to heal-"

"You have to!" Alice. "She's important-"

"She's not normal-"

"Of course she isn't, Edward!"

"Her heart is beating much slower than the data bases say human hearts should beat…"

"…Oh, no…"

I hear sobbing but I cannot make myself open my eyes. I feel so tired, hot and clammy. Everything is loud and confusing.

"What's going on here?" A new voice, loud and feminine. Confident. "I could hear you from the hallway…Is that the human?"

"She is ill."

"Dying. She's dying."

"Why is this happening, Healer?" The new voice demands, much closer than all the other seem to be.

"I'm not sure, Princess. Maybe from traveling or the atmosphere. Food poisoning..."

"If she can't be saved, then she wasn't meant to be here. She shouldn't have come-"

"Shut up, Edward!" The new voice.

Alice. "You have no idea what she has been through you-"

I can feel myself coughing but I can't hear it. Fingers press into my wrist.

"Her blood pressure is dropping…"

"Do something!"

"There is nothing he can do, Rosalie. Just let her-"

"Blood," the older voice says. "Our blood has healing properties…"

"Edward should-"

"I will not."

"You're supposed to mate with her! It should be your blood."

"Her heart rate is dropping. I would give her my own, but I am so old. I need someone to do it or she will die."

"Edward!"

"No, Alice. I didn't want her here in the first place. And she is so abnormal. Too strange-"

"I'll do it."

"Thank you, Princess. Now, if you would cut here and hold your wrist over her mouth…"

Cool, thick and sweet liquid drips into my dry throat. I swallow automatically. Time passes between liquid, sleep and swallowing.

"I can't believe you, Edward."

Another voice. Stern. Disappointed.

"She clearly belongs on Earth."

A deep, heavy sigh. "Edward, you asked for time. Now, you are lucky she is alive so you can use that time. She might surprise you."

"She already has," is his wry reply.

Then there is only silence. Long silence and sleep as my body begins to feel more like my own and less like a feverish hell.

Rosalie and Alice are in my room when I wake. Alice takes the time to explain that I had been asleep for two days. She also explains that Rosalie gave me her blood so I would live.

Neither of them mention Edward.

Together, Alice and Rosalie explain that I might feel more attached to Rosalie for a few days while my body metabolizes her blood.

I find Rosalie to be much warmer than I had judged her for, though she is still arrogant and demanding. I like that she doesn't beat around the bush and tells me that I need to bathe.

Immediately.

As Rosalie disappears to see to her Princess duties, Alice shows me how to operate the bed in my room, how to open the room's door – and lock it – and where the lavish washroom is, the waste-room hidden in a closet near the sleek bathing tub.

I enjoy a leisurely soak in exotic scents, my body somehow sore though I have been sleeping, apparently, for days. I stay in the hot water until my skin is red and pruning, drying myself with a soft towel as the Leumian do not have the drying jets I am so used to. I think I prefer the towel.

Alice has left a soft dress on the alcove couch along with a pair of knee-high, mocha colored slouch boots. The dress is ethereal, a sweetheart neckline, a low dip to the small of my back and the shoulders bare, long loose layers of fabric making sleeves that cover my hands; the hem of the dress reaches just under mid-thigh and the entire garment is made of white, breezy, lacey-light fabrics. My mother's pendant looks magnificent against the dress and my hair has dried in short, wavy layers, short bangs pushed to the side of my face.

Jasper and Alice come to escort me to the throne room for a mid-day meal and, to my uncomfortable shock, the room silences upon my arrival. Again, I am seated across from the Prince.

His gaze remains on his plate.

"Dear, how are you feeling?"

I look away from the top of Edward's head and into the clear green eyes of the Queen.

"I am much better, thank you," I say quietly. "But I don't understand why that happened."

"The Healer thinks it must have been a reaction to the toxic gasses in the cloud your pod broke through upon entering Leumin's atmosphere," the King answers. "It would have not affected a Leumian, but as you are human…"

"You couldn't have known," I say, picking at the food in front of me. I should have suspected, though – I was able to find information on their clouds, after all.

"The Healer will see to it that you have a tonic on hand that will cure you of any ailments, should you stumble across more."

"Thank you."

Esme glances at her son. "I'm only sorry that it had to come to my daughter giving you her blood to fix it."

I feel my face flush in shame. "I'm sorry-"

"No dear, the fault is not with you. It's with my silent son."

Edward's fingers clench around his utensil; he drops it onto his plate with a loud clatter as he shoves away from the table and storms out of the room.

He doesn't look back.

The rest of the meal is spent in relative silence and when it is over, Alice and Jasper walk me back to my room.

Sitting on the alcove couch is Edward; his large hands clasped together, his head down and his tall body tense.

I lean against the wall, silently observing him as he seems to gather his wits or his words. But when he does look up at me, those vibrant eyes wide and searching, he seems so lost that I find myself wanting to fix him.

He didn't want to fix me, though.

I would be stupid if I began to entertain the notion of a romance brewing between myself and this alien Prince who, clearly, wanted me gone by whatever means necessary.

Before he could start speaking, I hardened my heart, feeling ice wrap around my chest.

"I'm sorry," he says. "About before. About not giving you my blood."

Keeping my face neutral, I push off the wall and walk towards him, stopping five feet away, which makes him look up at me, the place where his eyebrows should be furrowing.

"You're not sorry."

His face crumples, a thousand emotions rushing through his eyes; guilt, shame, sadness. "I-"

"No, it's alright. You don't want me here. I'm sure there is a Leumian girl that would be better suited for you."

"It's not that-"

"But I've got a plan," I interrupt. It wasn't a lie – I'd thought of it during the meal. "We can go through with this mating thing, satisfy our parents and the Seven. Then, one day, I'll go on a hike and disappear. Don't worry, I won't wait for years to leave and I'll be careful to make it look like an accident."

Edward's eyes widen as he begins to understand what I'm trying to say. It was really perfect for everyone involved – the Seven got their treaty, my father wouldn't have to pretend to care, Edward could mate with a Leumin when I was gone and I wouldn't have to keep my secrets any more.

I step away, towards the door hoping he would get the hint and leave me alone; I didn't like the heavy feeling in my chest.

Edward stands, pushing his hands through his hair. "No, don't do that. I was wrong. I realize that now."

I turn towards him, crossing my arms and feeling a chill on my bare shoulders. "You were probably right, Edward. Now, you are wrong. Really. It will be better for everyone if we just go through with my plan."

"I don't want that-"

"Of course you do." I level him with the coldest stare I can manage and make a small metal trinket float across his line of sight. "I am abnormal, like you said."

I don't know why, but when I see pain and regret flash across his face, tears build up behind my eyes.

I force myself to continue, letting the trinket drop to the ground and sliding my door open. "Now, please leave. I'm sure you have better things to do."

I hear his footsteps as they come closer. "I was wrong, Bella. I should have given you my blood, not my sister."

"You should go."

"Bella-"

"Please. Now."

Edward sighs and leaves but not before silently pleading for me to listen to him.

I let the door slide closed.

I lock it.

And I bury my head into my arms, my knees to my chest and cry for the second time in three days.

A/N: and there it is - i must say, three updates in less than a week? a record, i think.

how many people wanted to beat Edward? and then slap Bella? and high-five Rosalie? (bet none of you saw that coming, huh?)

so, many of you lovely readers have been mentioning Written In the Stars -if you haven't read it, go do that. admittedly, WIS is one of my favorite fictions out there and sort of spurred me on to write my own Sci-Fi. that said, i'm going to be as original as possible with my own Sci-Fi because i would hate to turn into a cliched writer of recycled plots.

notable reviews; celia azul, who has expressed her interest in shipping me Mountain Dew - that was AWESOME, and JLS0823, who wrote a review that just made me all kinds of happy inside.

and a special shout-out to YesMyRealNameIsBella. is your name Bella?either way, you made my day with your review!

be brutally honest. i can take it.

~cupcakeriot