The palace was a whirlwind of activity today, which Isabella thought was very unfair. Everyone seemed to be doing something important, but nobody had time for her. She tried to go to the throne room, but the big, carved doors were firmly shut, and one of the guards had gently told her, "Not today, little miss."

Daddy was busy. Uncle Marcus was busy. And Uncle Caius? Well, he was really busy. Even Edward, who always had time to read with her or answer her endless questions, had vanished with Jane and Alec hours ago. Isabella wandered through the halls in search of someone familiar but found none of the usual faces. No Demetri. No Felix. Corin was always with Aunt Athenodora these days, and Chelsea and Renata rarely left Uncle Aro's side.

The only people she had left were Mommy and Gianna. Mommy said it was because they had caught "the bad guy," the one Isabella had overheard them saying had scared her before. She was glad the bad guy was caught—really, she was—but it meant the palace didn't feel like the same place right now. It was only one day, she reminded herself, but it still felt strange.

So, instead of running down the halls or sneaking into Edward's music room, Isabella found herself curled up on the plush carpet of her bedroom. Her favorite movie, Sleeping Beauty, flickered across the screen in bright colors. Isabella hugged her knees, her free hand gently stroking Luna, who purred contentedly in her lap. She loved this movie; Aurora's hair reminded her of Edward's eyes. The color was so golden, so shiny, just like his.

As the movie played, Isabella found her mind wandering to her upcoming seventh birthday. Only months and months left now. She was so excited. She wanted to ask for something really special—a trip to the beach. But there was one big problem with that idea.

"Mama," she asked suddenly, turning to where Sulpicia sat nearby, reading one of her long books. "Is there a beach with no sun? Like… where the sun doesn't set?"

Sulpicia lowered her book, her crimson eyes softening as she tilted her head. "A beach with no sun?" she repeated, amused. "Why, sweetheart?"

Isabella shifted, resting her chin on her knees. "Because if there's no sun, then you, Papa, and Edward wouldn't sparkle. And then we could all go together."

Her little voice grew more animated, her thoughts spilling out. "We could build sandcastles, and I could swim! Oh, but… only if there are no bad guys there."

Her mother laughed gently, and Gianna, sitting in the corner tidying up a tray of paints from earlier, chuckled too.

Sulpicia leaned over, brushing a soft kiss against Bella's hair. "We'll find a way, darling," she said. "Your papa—or perhaps Edward—will think of something. I'm sure of it."

Bella brightened at that, a wide smile lighting her face. "Really?" she asked.

"Really," her mother said, giving Gianna a playful, knowing glance. "One way or another, we'll go to a beach where the sun isn't a problem."

Satisfied with that answer, Isabella turned her attention back to the TV, where the scene showed the three fairies preparing for Aurora's sixteenth birthday. The green fairy was struggling with a cake, frosting sliding everywhere. Isabella giggled, clutching her sides.

"Gia!" she exclaimed, twisting around with big, pleading eyes. "Can we bake a cake later, please?"

Gianna pretended to consider this for a moment, though her smile gave her away. "We can," she said, finally relenting. "But after lunch—and after a glass of you-know-what."

Isabella scrunched up her nose, her tiny pout forming. "Fine," she said dramatically, sinking back against her cushions.

But a moment later, she peeked over at Gianna with a sly smile, clearly already imagining the cake they'd make. Maybe it would be as big as the one in the movie—but with fewer messes. Or maybe it would have golden frosting, like Edward's eyes. Either way, today might not be so strange after all.

EPOV

Edward walked briskly through the corridors of the palace, his sharp senses attuned to the faint hum of activity around him. The day had been unrelenting, spent immersed in Aro's study of Alexandros, the stranger who had caused the recent disturbance. While Aro and the others appeared fascinated, Edward found him unimpressive—another desperate soul dabbling in powers beyond his control. Hours had slipped by as he combed through the memories of the guards, attempting to discern if there was anything unique about Alexandros, but ultimately, Edward came to the conclusion: the man was nothing special.

Still, the business of the Volturi left him drained in a way nothing else could. It wasn't fatigue—Edward hadn't truly experienced that in a century—but an underlying tension that gnawed at him. However, as the weight of the day finally lifted, a realization dawned on him: he hadn't seen Bella all day.

The thought tightened his chest. Usually, she would have found him by now, a ball of energy darting into meetings she didn't belong in, giggling when Alec pretended to scold her. But today, there had been nothing—no soft giggles, no scent of lavender and sweetness as she pulled on his sleeve or whispered questions in his ear.

Edward turned down the hall leading to the living quarters, following a trace of her scent. His footsteps slowed as he reached the kitchen, where Gianna was tidying up. She was wiping down counters littered with traces of flour and batter, while a faint scent of vanilla and burnt sugar hung in the air.

"Baking?" Edward asked quietly, his gaze flicking to the cluttered utensils.

Gianna looked up, offering a small smile as she wiped her hands on a dishrag. "More like experimenting," she replied. "She insisted on making her own cake. Told me she wanted it to look 'as golden as Edward's eyes.'" Gianna chuckled at the memory, her voice dropping. "She didn't make it very far, though."

Edward followed her glance to the cushioned bench in the corner. Isabella lay curled up, her little body rising and falling with each deep breath. She was already in her soft pajamas, her brown hair fanned out like a halo, streaked with faint smudges of flour. One of her hands still clutched a wooden spoon, the grip loose in her sleep.

"Fell asleep after eating?" Edward asked, his voice quieter now.

"Nope," Gianna said with a warm smile. "Fell asleep while baking."

Edward's lips curved into the faintest of smiles. "May I?" he asked, stepping toward Bella.

Gianna nodded, stepping aside as if understanding that Edward needed this. His connection with Bella had deepened in ways that even surprised himself, and he missed her today more than he thought possible.

Gently, Edward knelt beside the bench, his hands moving with practiced care as he slid one arm under Bella's shoulders and the other beneath her knees. She stirred slightly, her head nestling against his chest as he cradled her.

The weight of her small frame felt reassuring in his arms as he carried her to her bedroom. Edward took his time, walking slower than necessary, as though he didn't want the moment to end. Bella's room smelled of lavender, and the soft glow of her bedside lamp bathed the space in warmth.

He pulled back her covers with one hand and settled her onto the mattress, tucking her in with a practiced gentleness. As he smoothed her blankets, he caught a faint murmur from her lips, a sleepy mumble:

"Cake…"

A small laugh escaped him, softer than a breath. Edward lowered himself into the chair beside her bed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. His eyes, the golden hue she adored so much, softened as he watched her sleep.

It was the first time Edward had stayed by her side as she drifted through her dreams. Aro knew now of his connection to Bella. There was no longer a need for pretense, no tiptoeing around his protectiveness.

She murmured again in her sleep, her brows furrowing slightly as if her dream was taking an unexpected turn. Her peacefulness fascinated him—the tiny expressions crossing her face, the way her breathing slowed and evened out. In her presence, the noise of the Volturi and all its complexities faded away.

Edward sat quietly, marveling at the odd but undeniable bond he shared with her. And for the first time, he allowed himself to stay.

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