Posted 2023-12-19; Beta'd by Eeyorefan12

Bella walked downstairs slowly as she'd been advised to do, sliding a hand along the smooth banister as she watched Esme whip by and around the corner. The house's morning sounds had been louder than usual. She hadn't caught the specifics in the snippets of conversations she'd overheard, but the sense of urgency had been plain enough.

"Rose, have you seen the stone chafers?" A clang obscured the rest of Esme's mutterings, this followed by the shuffling of heavy items on wood shelves. "I thought I'd seen them at the back of the cellar store—" Esme stopped talking, the sounds of her movement ending too.

Bella had gotten used to these abrupt pauses, recognizing that her housemates were listening to distant replies. Their hearing was incredibly sensitive.

"Of course. That's right. Thank you!" Esme said. "Good morning, Bella," she added. "You shouldn't really be up, though. I'll bring up breakfast."

"Thank you, no. I can get it." Bella reached the foot of the stairs. "I needed to stretch my legs a little." It was already late—nearly nine. She was used to being the last up at six or seven, but it felt indecent, having rested for so long since waking. Given how busy everyone seemed to be, she felt a little guilty not contributing.

"Did something . . . happen?" Bella asked, watching one of the women run by with a heavy basket of clothing.

"The glykoblay have opened," Esme said, peering into a cabinet under the stairs. "Rather early," she mumbled, snatching out a heavy-looking lidded stone dish. "There they are."

Bella mused over the unfamiliar word. She'd heard it before somewhere . . . "The trees?" she asked.

"These?" Esme looked at the two stone pots at her feet.

"The glykoblay?" Perhaps she'd misheard?

"Yes, yes. They did." Esme furrowed her brow, obviously not paying attention.

"Um, can I help?"

Esme's smile was gentle. "No. After breakfast, I'd like you to rest again. Perhaps you'd like to do so on the divan? It's nicer than being alone in your room."

"That . . . would be nicer, thank you. Um, but I wondered if Edward was around?"

Esme pointed towards the kitchen yard. "He's helping Vanko get the spikes ready, which will take a while. Go eat. You've got time."

Bella didn't miss the command. "Of course." She wasn't hungry, but she didn't want to offend Esme either. And maybe food would steady her own nerves.

In the kitchen, she managed to force down a few bites of potage. Unusually, the room was empty, the other household members busy with tasks Bella presumed were related to the blue-topped trees. As she ate, she tried to sort out her feelings.

She'd just started to feel settled with the Cullens—with what had happened to her. She'd even been looking forward to working at the archives. Now, the ground had shifted again, and she felt an acute stab of grief.

Moving to the sink, Bella washed up her dish and spoon slowly, drying them just as methodically.

Washing dishes was at least the same in one world as it was the next. She shook her head at the thought. Of all the things one could count on.

Edward strode past the open kitchen window. If he saw her, he didn't pause. "Found it," he said to Vanko, who was arranging what looked like metal chains on a piece of canvas.

She'd been able to count on Edward, too. On the Cullens. They'd been the steadiest part of her time on Sabellia.

It could have been so much worse, she reminded herself. The family had carefully avoided saying that, but she'd seen and heard enough to know she'd been lucky to be brought to them—and to be welcomed as she had been. Her human presence was no honor, and while she was usually treated with the utmost respect, notwithstanding Jasper's grumbling, it was clear not all Sabellians would do the same.

There was another flurry of activity in the kitchen yard. Two of the stable workers carried in high stacks of long, flat crates, muttering something to Edward, who nodded his thanks.

Bella twisted her hands together. Everyone was so busy. Maybe it wasn't the best time to talk to him? Esme had suggested she go rest after breakfast. Was that her way of telling Bella things could wait?

Bella's stomach twisted too. There was no way she could sit around waiting on this conversation. She'd go nuts. "Damn the time," she muttered.

She smoothed down her bodice and skirt as she walked towards the back stairs, taking the first and second steps and then missing the third with a painful thud onto her backside.

"Bella?" Edward was over in an instant, his hand already under her elbow to help her up.

"I'm fine, thanks." Embarrassed and flustered, she stood, ignoring the ache in her knee.

Vanko reappeared from around the corner, carrying a length of rope coiled over his shoulder.

Bella dusted herself off, realizing as she did so that she'd come outside without her gloves. Maybe her new familial status made them no longer necessary? "Sorry to interrupt you," she said to Edward. "I wondered if I could . . . speak to you?"

Albeit brief, his stare was intense, and she regretted not inquiring about protocol.

"Of course." Edward glanced at Vanko, who nodded as if the interruption was expected.

"I'll start moving things." Vanko picked up the crates the stable boys had left, disappearing around the corner.

Edward turned back to Bella, his expression open and expectant.

A wave of nerves unsettled Bella's tenuous resolve.

She knew it was a mistake to look at him as soon as she did, opening her mouth and letting words spill out. "I, um . . . wasn't sure if there was a specific way I was supposed to . . . respond to your offer."

She managed to keep her eyes open as her cheeks warmed.

"No." He smiled gently. "It's probably a conversation best held in private." He glanced around. They were indeed alone.

She cleared her throat, determined to at least speak clearly for this part even though she couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye. "I accept."

There was a flicker in her peripheral vision as Edward removed his work gloves, taking her right hand and then her left, holding them between his own.

She knew she should probably look at his face, but instead she locked her gaze on his hands.

"I'm honored by your acceptance, Bella."

The words registered, but they were secondary to the sight and—after weeks of formality—incredibly intimate sensation of his fingers on hers. He'd never touched her bare hands.

No one had.

She realized it was the first time that anyone here had held her hand. The unexpected comfort caught her by surprise, and she fought to hold back tears.

Edward didn't let go, nor did he burden her with words.

The wave of loneliness peaked and receded, drawing away a little of the stiff control Bella was exerting.

It was loneliness—and it wasn't warranted, Bella decided. The Cullens had chosen to make her part of their family, now in more than one way, and her fears and doubts needed to take second seat, even if it felt beyond strange to accept her new reality. Her place was here with them—at least for now.

With Edward. My place is with Edward.

Despite what she'd decided, the thought startled her.

And their intimacy would go far beyond holding hands.

Bella cleared her throat, wondering what Edward must think of her thermometer-like flush—down one moment, up the next.

"We should share the good news with our family," he said.

"Right."

"But first we need to take a short walk . . . silently. I promise I'll explain why later."

She glanced up at him, scowling in confusion. Did the silence begin now?

"Another tradition," Edward said.

Bella couldn't decide if the smile that accompanied his words was apologetic or bemused. She decided it didn't matter, giving a brief nod.

Edward led her away from the kitchen yard, ducking through a narrow opening between work sheds, continuing past the garden and through the tall field grasses towards a distant grove of trees.

Bella had only been near there once before with Esme and Rose, helping to pick flowers and herbs. Esme had pointed to the stand of trees and told Bella that they didn't use any of the flowers or leaves from them. There'd been no explanation, but that hadn't felt unusual at the time.

Edward kept hold of her hand, helping her over a few rough mounds that marked the path to their destination.

Bella took in the surroundings. The wispy green-yellow grasses were not unlike those of home, and there were pale circles in the ground where trees had obviously once stood. Their stumps had been ground down to the level of stepping stones—except Edward didn't step on them. Bella followed suit and didn't either.

Up close, she saw that there were many such circles in the ground, these interspersed with living trees of various ages, each wound with a ribbon, some colorful, most faded to match the dull gray of the tree's silvery bark. From the ribbons hung round pendants. She peered closer. Not needlework, but tiny tapestries in glass frames.

Edward drew her hand away from the pendant she'd been about to touch, smiling and shaking his head. He lifted his chin to indicate a particular tree before leading her over to it. Tall and healthy, the leafy speciman's smaller trunk showed it was one of the younger in the grove. Its leaves were thick and shiny like a succulent and dusky like a blue spruce. Protruding directly from its trunk and boughs were heavy yellow blossoms. Edward touched the tree trunk and then his chest, pausing to make sure Bella saw. She nodded. Then he took one of the flowers and gave it to her, pressing it into her hand. Unsure if some more formal response was required, she nodded again and was rewarded with a smile that made Edward's eyes crinkle at the corners.

She watched him pluck more flowers, cradling them in his arm.

Then, still wordlessly, he indicated that they should walk back towards the house.

They retraced their steps, still holding hands, communicating only in quiet looks and glances. Truthfully, she was surprised by how much she was able to gather from their silent communication. She hadn't appreciated just how much she'd learned to read his body language, his minute shifts in breathing, and his gaze—which always seemed gentle when he settled it on her.

At the sight of two birds tussling over a scrap of kerata rind, they both chuckled, watching the one be flipped into its back, squawking indignantly and then flying off in pursuit of its competitor.

Coming closer to the house, Bella watched Edward peering into the distance. It was too far for her to see clearly, but if she squinted, she thought she saw someone riding up from across the other and quite distant side of the fields. A few minutes later, she knew her guess had been correct.

Edward appeared grim, the corners of his mouth tugging downwards. As they moved closer to the house, their trajectory crossed with that of the stranger.

"Good morning, sir!" the man called from atop his Alogo. "I've come with an invitation."

Edward merely nodded in reply.

The man dismounted, leading the ambling Alogo towards them. A few yards away, he paused, eyeing Edward's armful of flowers. "Oh, I—" he closed his mouth, smiling and bowing to the two of them before remounting and riding towards the house.

Edward sighed and then turned to Bella, smiling a little and lifting his chin towards the house. They were almost there.

Instead of coming back in through the kitchen door, they entered by the front, and Edward made three deep pulls of the porch bell. Bella knew it was only used to announce guests or proclaim news.

Rose was the first to arrive. She blinked at the sight of Edward, who held out a flower to her to take.

"I receive your news with joy." Rose's tone sounded anything but joyful, the words coming out like they were mechanically recited.

Esme, however, uttered them with enthusiasm and sincerity, embracing Bella and then Edward. "Rose, will you take charge of the drying? I'll show you how to compound them later."

"Of course." Rose took the two flowers and left—eagerly, it seemed.

Bella remained confused but silent, still following Edward's lead.

Over the next few minutes, they gave each member of the family and household a flower. Only when the floral presentations were over did Edward finally turn to Bella and speak. "And now you need to go sit down and rest."

She didn't object, letting him lead her towards the salon and the divan.

"We may speak now," he said.

Bella had a lot of questions, but she began with the most obvious. "Why couldn't we before?"

"The first words a couple should hear after their engagement is announced are those of their family congratulating them in joy."

Nodding, Bella decided to ignore the distinct lack of joy with which Rose had greeted their news. "Can you tell me about the trees?"

Edward nodded, pulling a footstool close and indicating that Bella should put her feet up. She did, mindful of the ache in her knee.

If Edward noticed her discomfort, he didn't comment. "They're our household's dentrogonisi. Our birth trees."

The house bell rang again, the sound reverberating around the high-ceilinged room. She glanced up, surprised to find an unusually bare ceiling.

"The lampa—"

"It needed deflating."

Deflating?

"Mr. Hatzisa?" Alice's voice carried in from the front door.

Bella didn't hear the reply, but she could see that Edward was listening for it.

"Is that—?" she asked.

"The man we met? Yes," he said, the frown from earlier returning. "He's been sent with a message from the Hatzis family. We've been invited for dinner. I'm just wondering if our news will also travel with our reply." He looked out the window.

"You make that sound like a bad thing."

Edward turned to face her. "Our news is in no way bad. But it's better if we give it ourselves. And better still if we give it with the correct protocol. It's not unheard of for neighbors to hear in advance, but . . . discretion is not one of Mrs. Hatzis's traits. We'll send word for an assembly today, though. Perhaps the invitation is well-timed after all. In any case, we'll plan on an informal announcement tonight. There's reason enough."

Esme appeared at the door. "You heard?"

Edward nodded.

Bella watched their brief but telling glances. Neither of them was pleased about the invitation.

"Can't you say you're busy?" Bella asked.

"It would be very rude," Esme said, rubbing her hands together on her apron.

"And we may be in need of their good will," Edward added.

Bella's sense of unease resurrected itself.

Mirroring his mother's movement, Edward rubbed his palms together, though he looked more thoughtful than worried. "I'll also need to stay elsewhere until the wedding."

That got Bella's attention.

"Preferably with our neighbors so I can be close by. As it is, there will be talk, given the general circumstances, but for us both to stay here, we'd only be inviting trouble."

"How long until the wedding?" Bella asked.

"As soon as possible," Esme said.

"We'll need to appear before the assembly," Edward added. "A few days for that, perhaps? And then the wedding as quickly as possible afterwards. A week at the earliest, ten days at the most. Soon enough to preserve your health." Edward's expression was serious, and he met her gaze directly.

Bella nodded, avoiding his expression by studying her hands. She was comfortable enough with Edward, but moments like this highlighted the fact that she was still reconciling herself to what their future would entail, and the way he looked at her . . . it was too easy to imagine things in those looks. She'd always found him attractive, and now she realized she had the tiniest bit of a crush on him. It was embarrassing, nerve-wracking, and generally unsettling, all things considered.

"I'll still come see you every day, Bella."

Did he sound worried?

"And you'll hardly be alone," Esme said.

Bella gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "Well, good. I like your company. All of you, that is."

Edward smiled and looked at his mother. "You sent an answer to the Hatzis?"

Esme nodded. "I said we'd be there just before dark."

"We'll take our blessings then, mixed and otherwise."

Bella could see why the blessing was mixed, given what Edward had explained, but she wondered if there was more.

Edward continued. "I had planned to ask them to host me until our wedding. They're our closest neighbors, and we're on . . . good enough terms. Otherwise I'll be relying on Mr. Pritner's generosity, which will no doubt extend to me sleeping in his southern pasture." Edward chuckled.

"Sounds like there's some interesting history there," Bella murmured.

"Oh, you could say so." Esme said, sighing, "although amends have long since been made. I'll leave you two. When you're ready, Edward, Vanko could use some help. I'm sorry to ask today, it's just—"

"I know, Mother. It's alright."

Esme nodded, leaving.

"Is it just me, or is today a particularly busy day?" Bella asked.

"It is. The glykoblay have opened early, and Vanko and Tabitha had planned to leave tomorrow to visit their families–which they won't be able to do now and for some time after the wedding. One of the other lampas looks ready to detach and needs to be deflated, and—" He stopped. "I'm sorry. It's hardly helpful to explain all of this."

Bella felt otherwise, appreciating being treated as simply a member of the family. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Yes," Edward said, taking her hand and squeezing it. "You can rest and be well." He stood. "And you can tell me who picks the glyko most cleanly, me or Vanko." He winked before turning to leave. "I usually best him, but I am out of practice. We'll see."