TWENTY ONE
I sit on a chair, the instructor guiding me in the art of crossing my legs.
"No, no," she tsks, shaking her head. "You must do it with grace, with poise. Watch closely."
The instructor demonstrates once more, her legs sliding together in a fluid motion, ankles crossing delicately. I try to mimic her movements, but my limbs feel clumsy and uncooperative.
"Remember," she says, her voice tinged with exasperation, "you're not just sitting. You're presenting yourself to the world. Every gesture must be deliberate, refined."
I nod, determination setting in. This may be the strangest class I've ever taken, but I'm committed now. Who would have thought that something as simple as sitting could be so complex? Yet here I am, in a stuffy room with outdated decor, learning the intricacies of proper leg-crossing technique.
The instructor circles me, her critical gaze taking in my posture.
"It'll have to do," she huffs, "now let's work on your curtsey."
I rise from the chair, my legs slightly wobbly from the prolonged sitting. The instructor stands before me, her back ramrod straight, chin tilted at a precise angle.
"Now, the curtsey is the pinnacle of feminine grace," she begins, her tone reverent. "It's a dance of submission and elegance all at once."
I watch, fascinated, as she demonstrates. Her right foot slides behind her left, her knees bending as she lowers herself. Her skirt billows out around her like a blossoming flower. The movement is so fluid, so natural, it's as if gravity itself bends to her will.
"Your turn," she says, gesturing for me to attempt the curtsey.
I take a deep breath, trying to recall every detail of her demonstration. Right foot back, knees bent, lower down... I wobble precariously, my arms flailing as dip.
The instructor's eyes widen in horror as I stumble, nearly toppling over. She rushes forward, steadying me with a firm grip on my elbow.
"Goodness gracious," she mutters, shaking her head. "We have quite a ways to go, don't we?"
I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment. "I'm sorry," I stammer. "I've never been very coordinated."
She sighs, releasing my arm. "Well, we can't all be naturals. But with practice, even the most ungainly duckling can become a swan." Her lips quirk into a small smile. "Or at least a slightly more graceful duck."
Edward slips into the room through the door, smiling widely at me.
The instructor stops and smiles at him offering him a curtsey. I watch him mesmerised only to earn a lecture from the tutor.
"He is the crown prince," she hisses at me, "bow."
Flustered, I attempt another curtsey, this time with the added pressure of Edward's presence. My legs wobble dangerously, and I can feel my balance slipping. Just as I'm about to topple over, Edward steps forward and catches my arm, steadying me with a gentle touch.
"Careful there," he says, his voice warm with amusement. "She doesn't need to bow to me, Cass. She does plenty of bowing in private. In fact my favourite way to look at her is from my own knees."
I feel my face flush crimson at Edward's words, a mix of embarrassment and excitement coursing through me. The instructor, Cass, looks utterly scandalised, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
"Your Highness!" she finally manages to sputter. "That is most improper!"
Edward merely chuckles, his hand still resting lightly on my arm. "Come now, Cass. Surely you of all people understand that rules are meant to be bent occasionally." He winks at me conspiratorially.
I can't help but smile at his words, feeling a surge of affection for him. Even in this formal setting, surrounded by stuffy protocol, he manages to make me feel at ease.
"I've come to get you. My mother and father have summoned us," he says, "we must board a plane."
I nod, smiling apologetically at Cass.
"Maybe when we board I can take you to the kneeling mile high club," he says loud enough for Cass to hear.
Cass' face turns an alarming shade of purple at Edward's suggestive comment. She opens her mouth, likely to deliver a scathing lecture on propriety, but Edward swiftly cuts her off.
"Thank you for your efforts, Cass," he says smoothly. "I'm sure your lessons have been invaluable. We'll continue another time."
Without waiting for a response, Edward gently guides me toward the door. As we exit, I hear Cass muttering something that sounds suspiciously like "utterly hopeless" behind us.
Once in the hallway, Edward's demeanour shifts. The playful glint in his eyes dims, replaced by a look of concern.
"It's always been so fun to mess with her," he chuckles, "for your next lesson I'm going to cover you in hickeys."
I can't help but laugh at Edward's mischievous suggestion, even as a mix of excitement and nervousness flutters in my stomach. "You're terrible," I say, playfully swatting his arm. "Poor Cass might have a heart attack."
Edward grins, but I notice the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. There's a tension in his shoulders that wasn't there before. "As tempting as that sounds, I'm afraid we have more pressing matters to attend to," he says, his voice growing serious.
We walk briskly down the ornate palace hallway, our footsteps echoing on the marble floors. "What's going on, Edward?" I ask, my amusement fading as I pick up on his worried energy. "Why have your parents summoned us? And why do we need to board a plane?"
He glances around, ensuring we're alone.
"We have an engagement to attend. They want us to put on a big show," he rolls his eyes, "You'll need to… my mother wants you to wear a tiara."
My eyes widen at Edward's words. A tiara? An engagement to attend? This sounds far more serious than I had anticipated.
"Edward," I say, my voice barely above a whisper, "what exactly is going on? This sounds... big."
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "It is big. There's been some... unrest in the country lately. The people are questioning the relevance of the monarchy in modern times." His eyes meet mine, a mix of determination and worry in their depths. "My parents think a grand royal appearance might help sway public opinion. A love story to help the public get back on side."
I feel my stomach twist with anxiety. "And I'm supposed to be part of this spectacle?"
Edward nods, squeezing my hand reassuringly. "You're to be their future princess. They want the people to see you, baby."
I swallow hard, the weight of this revelation settling on my shoulders. "But I'm not ready," I whisper, panic rising in my chest. "I can barely curtsy without falling over. How am I supposed to face an entire country?"
Edward pulls me close, his strong arms wrapping around me. "You'll be perfect," he murmurs into my hair. "Just be yourself. That's who I fell in love with, and that's who the people will love too."
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. "Okay," I say, my voice shaky but determined. "I'll do my best. For you."
He pulls back, cupping my face in his hands. "That's my girl," he says, a proud smile spreading across his face.
"And I fully expect the knee thing on the plane," I point at him, "for all the trouble you're about to cause me."
Edward's eyes light up with mischief, a grin spreading across his face. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of disappointing you," he says, his voice low and husky. "Consider it a royal decree."
Staring in the mirror I don't recognise myself.
My floor length, purple gown shimmers in the light, the fabric clinging to my curves before flowing out gracefully at my feet. The tiara sits atop my carefully styled hair, its diamonds catching the light and sending sparkles dancing across the room. I hardly recognise the woman staring back at me in the mirror.
"You look absolutely breathtaking," Edward says, coming up behind me. His eyes meet mine in the reflection, full of love and admiration.
I turn to face him, taking in his regal appearance in his formal military uniform, medals gleaming on his chest. "You don't look so bad yourself," I tease, trying to mask my nervousness with humour.
Edward sees right through it. He takes my hands in his, squeezing gently. "Are you ready for this?"
I take a deep breath, steadying myself. "As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose.
"Hey think of it like Disneyland. You've done this before really," he kisses my head, "just be you."
I can't help but laugh at Edward's comparison, some of the tension easing from my shoulders. "Right, just like Disneyland. Except instead of Mickey Mouse ears, I'm wearing a priceless royal tiara."
Edward grins, pleased to see me relaxing a bit. "Exactly. And instead of overpriced churros, we'll be having caviar and champagne."
A knock at the door interrupts our moment. "Your Highness, it's time," a voice calls from the other side.
Edward takes my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Remember, just be yourself. That's more than enough."
We step out into the hallway, where a small entourage of staff awaits us. They all bow or curtsy as we pass, and I find myself fighting the urge to do the same. Old habits die hard, I suppose.
As we make our way through the palace, I can feel the weight of expectation settling on my shoulders. The click of my heels on the marble floors seems to echo my racing heartbeat. Edward's hand remains steady in mine, an anchor in this sea of uncertainty.
We pause before a set of ornate double doors. I can hear the low murmur of voices on the other side, and my stomach does a nervous flip.
"Remember," Edward whispers, "you've got this. Just smile and wave. And if all else fails, imagine everyone in their underwear."
I stifle a giggle, grateful for his attempt to lighten the mood. "Even you?"
He winks at me. "Especially me."
The doors swing open, and we're greeted by a burst of camera flashes and a roar of voices. The ballroom is packed with dignitaries, journalists, and what seems like hundreds of curious onlookers. For a moment, I'm frozen, overwhelmed by the sheer number of eyes fixed on us.
Edward gives my hand another squeeze and steps forward, gently guiding me along with him. As we move into the room, the crowd parts before us, creating a path to where the King and Queen stand waiting.
I focus on putting one foot in front of the other, desperately trying to remember all of Cass' lessons. Back straight, chin up, small steps. I can feel the weight of the tiara on my head, a constant reminder of the role I'm stepping into.
As we approach his parents, Edward bows slightly, and I attempt my best curtsy. To my immense relief, I manage to lower myself and rise again without toppling over. The Queen's lips twitch in what might be approval, or perhaps amusement.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the King's voice booms across the ballroom, silencing the crowd. "We are gathered here today to formally introduce you to the woman who has captured our son's heart, and who will one day, provided he doesn't mess it up, stand beside him as your future Queen."
My heart races as all eyes turn to me. Edward's hand tightens reassuringly around mine.
"May I present," the King continues, "Lady Isabella Marie Swan."
I want to throw up.
The room erupts in applause. I force a smile, trying to channel the poise and grace I've been practicing. As the clapping dies down, I realise with a start that they're waiting for me to speak.
Edward gives me a subtle nod of encouragement. I take a deep breath, stepping forward slightly.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," I begin, my voice wavering slightly before I steady it. "And thank you all for this warm welcome. I am truly honoured to be here with you all today." I pause, searching for the right words. "I know that I may not be what you expected in a future princess. I wasn't born into nobility, and I'm still learning the intricacies of royal life."
I glance at Edward, drawing strength from his encouraging smile. "But what I lack in royal breeding, I make up for in love - love for your prince, and love for this beautiful country and its people."
There's a moment of silence, and I fear I've said something wrong. But then applause begins to ripple through the crowd, growing louder until it fills the entire ballroom. I feel Edward's arm slip around my waist, pulling me close.
"You were perfect," he whispers in my ear, "so very perfect. I'm so incredibly proud."
As I begin to a reply a small girl races toward me, her mother trying to stop her.
The young girl is beaming up at me.
"You're a real princess," she grins at me.
I feel an air of familiarity. Maybe I'm not just the girl from the Disney parks. Carefully I kneel down, Edward's eyes on me as I interact.
I smile warmly at the little girl, her eyes wide with wonder as she looks up at me. For a moment, I forget about the crowd, the cameras, and the weight of the tiara on my head. In this child's eyes, I see the magic and allure of royalty that I once felt myself.
"Hello there," I say softly, "What's your name?"
"Lily," she replies, her voice barely above a whisper.
"That's a beautiful name, Lily. I'm Isabella, but you can call me Bella if you'd like."
Lily's face lights up. "Just like in the movies! Like the yellow dress one."
I can't help but chuckle at Lily's comparison to Belle from Beauty and the Beast. "You're right, just like in the movies," I agree, my smile widening. "Do you like princesses, Lily?"
She nods enthusiastically, her curls bouncing. "I want to be a princess when I grow up!"
I lean in slightly, as if sharing a secret. "Well, Lily, I have something very important to tell you. You don't have to wait to grow up to be a princess. You can be one right now."
Her eyes widen in disbelief. "Really? How?"
"By being kind, brave, and true to yourself," I tell her. "Those are the most important qualities of a princess. Can you do that?"
Lily nods solemnly, her face serious. "I promise I will."
"Then you're already a princess in my eyes," I smile, "in fact would you like me to make you an offical princess right now? Prince Edward do you give me the permission to induct our new friend?"
Edward steps forward, a twinkle in his eye as he plays along. "As Crown Prince, I hereby grant you full authority to induct our new friend into the royal princess club," he says with mock seriousness, giving me a subtle wink.
I turn back to Lily, whose eyes have grown impossibly wider. "Alright then, Princess Lily. I need you to do a big spin in your beautiful dress. Can you do that?"
Lily nods eagerly and begins to twirl, her dress fanning out around her. The crowd watches with amusement and fondness as the little girl spins, giggling with delight.
As she comes to a stop, I gently place my hand on her shoulder. "Now I need you to close your eyes and make a big wish. Don't say it out loud though."
Lily squeezes her eyes shut tight, her little face scrunched up in concentration as she makes her wish. The crowd around us has fallen silent, watching the impromptu ceremony with rapt attention.
After a moment, Lily opens her eyes, looking up at me expectantly.
"I now declare you a princess," I tickle her gently, "such a beautiful, kind, powerful princess."
Lily's face lights up with pure joy, and she throws her arms around me in an exuberant hug. I'm momentarily startled by the sudden embrace, but I quickly return it, careful not to let the tiara slip from my head.
"Thank you, Princess Bella!" Lily exclaims, her voice muffled against my dress.
As I gently disengage from the hug, I notice the crowd around us has grown even larger. People are smiling, some even wiping away tears. Cameras flash rapidly, capturing the moment.
"You become whatever your heart desires okay. It's been such a pleasure to meet you," I whisper to her, "what do you want to be when you grow up?"
Lily's eyes sparkle as she considers my question. "I want to be a doctor princess," she says confidently. "To help people and make them feel better."
I feel a surge of warmth in my chest at her answer. "That's wonderful, Lily. The world needs more kind-hearted doctor princesses like you'll be."
I glance up at Edward, who's watching our interaction with a soft smile. He gives me a subtle nod of approval.
Lily beams at me, clearly thrilled by the idea. Her mother, who had been hovering nearby, steps forward now.
"Thank you very much for this," she says, "she'll remember this moment forever."
"As will I," I smile at her, "thank you for making me feel so welcome."
As Lily and her mother move away, I rise to my feet, smoothing out my dress. Edward is at my side in an instant, his hand resting gently on the small of my back.
"That was incredible," he murmurs in my ear. "You've just won over every heart in this room."
I blush, suddenly aware again of the hundreds of eyes on us. "I was just being myself," I whisper back.
"Exactly," Edward says with a grin. "That's why it was perfect."
The King steps forward then, addressing the crowd once more. "Ladies and gentlemen, I believe it's time for a dance. Music, if you please."
As the orchestra strikes up a waltz, Edward turns to me with an outstretched hand and a slight bow. "May I have this dance, my princess?"
