Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight

As always, a huge thank you to Katinki for editing this story.


Chapter 20

Edward visits our house every day, each time lingering for hours.

He always arrives between meal times, casually mentioning that he's either just eaten or isn't hungry. I suspect that he isn't lying. The color of his eyes is brighter now, with a steady golden-green hue that never changes, which suggests he's hunting every night. I worry that Maggie might start to suspect something, but for now, she chalks this eccentric behavior up to his being a musical genius—someone so in tune with divine inspiration that he doesn't need sustenance like the rest of us.

It's been raining for days now, so we mostly stay indoors. Edward finally brings the sheet music he promised me during our first and only piano class, and we agree that since he spends time in the house anyway, we might as well resume our lessons.

Thanks to our new status as the future Mr. and Mrs. Edward Masen, no one bothers chaperoning us anymore. However, Edward tells me that several servants, including Jessica, are constantly thinking about spying on us for some juicy gossip. Little do they know, not only can he hear their sneaky footsteps from a distance, but he's been aware of their plans to eavesdrop from the moment they conceived them.

I love our lessons.

Don't get me wrong, I could totally just sit there and gaze at Edward with googly eyes, maybe even drool a little, but I love interacting with him when I learn something just as much. His teaching style is way lighter than Irina's, and he's easier to please, too.

"Whose idea was it to offer me music lessons? I don't know what kind of agreement you guys had, but it felt like Carlisle was improvising," I tell him one morning as Edward closes the door of the living room and opens the cover of the pianoforte.

He shakes his head. "Have I mentioned that my brother enjoys meddling in my affairs? In most cases, I am grateful for his interventions. But that one time… I was out of town and only saw him late at night, after he returned from having dinner here. I heard it in his mind long before I approached the house… I was livid."

He walks to his usual place behind the instrument and leans on it, elegant as ever.

"Do not misunderstand me, I wanted to be near you in any way I could, but you had asked for privacy, and I wanted to respect that," he continues. "The week that preceded our lesson had been the longest in my life—I thought that I'd lost you forever. But at the same time, I'd come to an understanding that I had no business to force myself upon you, and neither did Carlisle. We argued, but in the end, there was no way to retract the offer."

"Oh, I see," I say quietly. "So, it wasn't as if you were communicating in real-time during that dinner—him listening to you with his vampire hearing and you reading his mind. I thought… Oh, no-no-no!" I exclaim as I suddenly see him pull a sheet that looks completely black from all the thirty-second notes out of his leather folder. "Not another Czerny etude! I already have two, and honestly, his music is just so boring…"

He raises an eyebrow, amused. "Maestro Czerny is not boring. He is brilliant! Did you know that he was the late Beethoven's most gifted pupil? He may have even surpassed his teacher in the art of playing the pianoforte but chose instead to dedicate his life to teaching others."

I not-so-discreetly roll my eyes. "Yeah, and I don't blame him. When your teacher is larger than life but also a depressed alcoholic with a range of debilitating health issues, it's only natural to say, "To hell with all this—can I just have a normal life? Even if it means teaching spoiled rich kids and composing dull finger exercises for them?'"

Edward laughs but still makes me work through all three etudes, repeating them again and again with varying speed and touch until sweat trickles down my temples.

"Mercy!" I groan, and he finally allows me to take a break.

I spring from my chair and collapse onto the couch by the window, completely exhausted. "Tell me about the day we met. Where you at the Opera with Carlisle?"

Edward's smirk tells me that my attempt at distracting him didn't go unnoticed. "We have yet three more pieces to study today," he informs me as he walks over and takes a seat on the couch beside me. All of a sudden, I feel incredibly self-conscious, acutely aware of how sweaty I am, and… Well, the lack of deodorant, combined with the less-than-perfect and infrequent washing of my dresses, might no longer bother me, but it must be obvious to him. Then, I remind myself that even if we were in the 21st century, with all the luxuries of modern hygiene, he would still pick up on every scent because of what he is. So, I might as well just relax.

"I had a sort of premonition that night at the Opera," he says. "Perhaps it was your scent—though it would have been nearly impossible to single it out amid the multitude of other scents in the theatre. Nonetheless, something that evening stirred an unfamiliar restlessness in me. And then, through the window of your uncle's carriage, I caught sight of you for the first time. Your face stood out in the sea of faces, and when our eyes met, I felt the undeniable weight of that moment… despite knowing nothing about you."

He smiles dreamily, savoring the memory. I feel my throat tighten, and my eyes sting with tears—no one has ever said anything so beautiful to me. Would it be completely bizarre to write it down, word for word, later when no one can see me?

"You appeared as overwhelmed and lost as I felt myself. My confusion was such that, rather than waiting for Carlisle and our carriage, I impulsively fled in a desperate attempt to clear my mind."

"Aw, Edward… That's such a romantic thing to say! Well, I recognized you immediately and wanted to jump out of the carriage, but we were already leaving," I tell him. "What about your recital? Did you… sense me there?"

"Not at first. I did have the same growing sense of restlessness as I started my performance, but I attributed it to the jitters of playing a more challenging collection of compositions than I ever had in the past. But that feeling did not last too long." He chuckles. "When you and your relatives sought me out after the concert—that was the moment my world crumbled like a sandcastle."

I gawk at him, startled. "What do you mean?"

There's a pause, and then he shakes his head incredulously. "You never cease to astonish me. At times, your mind is as sharp as a razor, yet at others, you seem to overlook the most obvious of truths… Or perhaps simply choose to ignore them? Do you recall when I mentioned that my craving for your blood was greater than what was typical?"

"Of course, I remember." I shrug. "That sounded like another attempt to spook me, on top of your hints of imminent death for anyone who knows your secret. At some point, I stopped paying attention." I grimace. "So, it wasn't something you made up, was it?"

"If anything, I downplayed it," Edward replies quietly. "Carlisle once told me that some humans' blood appealed significantly stronger to particular vampires, to the degree of compulsion. However, I dismissed that notion entirely—arrogant as ever, I believed that compulsions were for the weak. I have always prided myself on my superior restraint over my baser impulses."

He gets up and begins pacing the room like always when his mind is preoccupied. "When I finally experienced your scent that evening, while Carlisle attended to the more persistent of my admirers and I remained concealed in my changing room… unsurprisingly, I was shattered. Over the last several years, life has become most agreeable, pleasurable even. I had convinced myself that I possessed the best of both worlds. I reveled in living among humans, openly sharing my passion for music, all the while being relieved of their myriad inconveniences such as sickness, physical suffering, and the necessity of rest. And then you appeared, delivering the most perfect blow, one that I truly deserved for my complacency." He lets out a humorless laugh. "I saw your image in Carlisle's mind and recognized the beautiful young woman from the Opera, which only fueled my madness. The compulsion to possess you, to drain you, took over me so completely that only a monumental effort, a fervent prayer, and Carlisle's presence prevented me from acting upon it. I did notice immediately that I was unable to read your thoughts, and that, too, contributed to my state of profound distress."

Well, I definitely didn't expect that… Wow.

Turns out, that while I was busy eyeing his handsome brother in the corridor, Edward Masen was fighting to spare my life!

More than a little fascinated, I silently wait for him to continue.

"It was as though Heaven itself had decided to have a good laugh at my expense, to remind me of my place and to show me that I could not deceive my own nature." His eyes now sparkle with agitation. "In this state of shock, I blamed you for this. How could you dare to do this to me? I considered leaving London, but of course, in my arrogance, I convinced myself that I should not resort to any form of defeat, though it posed a significant risk to you. Thus, I stayed. I discovered that you lived in the vicinity—yet another inconvenience. Imagine my astonishment when one evening, I sensed a silent mind and your maddening scent approaching my house."

Edward pauses. I rise from the couch and take his hand in mine. "You fought your compulsion and you proved strong. I… I'm grateful for that. Guess now I understand why you behaved like a dick to me that night." I give him a pointed look.

He sighs, avoiding my gaze. "And I am so very sorry for my past rudeness. Remembering that night makes me feel extremely ashamed. It was one thing to be assailed by your scent through a closed door, and quite another to be in your immediate presence, to touch you… I nearly lost my mind. When you called me by my adoptive family name and said that you had come from the future… that sort of revelation would have been hard to comprehend even in a state of sobriety and almost impossible while under the influence of your blood."

He hesitates. "Immediately, I decided that you were not, after all, sent by Heaven. Instead, I was convinced that the Volturi were putting me to the test. There was a certain depraved elegance in the manner in which your presence was destroying me—exactly the sort of spectacle that Aro would find amusing."

"Who's Aro?" I ask. "And the Volturi? Are there more than one of them? Are they connected to the owner of the loge?"

"The Volturi are three brothers who rule the vampire world. Our kings, in a way: Aro, Caius, and Marcus. They live in Italy, surrounded by many other gifted vampires," he says in a clipped tone. I feel like this subject is not something he wants to dive into, so I don't press.

"What happened next?" I ask instead. "Did you just go on with your life? Until you saved me from death by scaffolding, that is. I meant to ask, how did you happen to be there? Did you, by any chance, um, follow me?"

He sighs. "I… I did follow you. My excuse was that I did not wish to be caught unaware. But… it was when I snatched you from under the rainfall of bricks and cement that I realized that I simply could not let you die. It was not merely an instinct to save you, but a vital necessity. Even if it meant exposing myself in the process."

I press myself into his cool, hard body and hug him. "Thank you. I remember your eyes being black then… what does that mean?"

"Our eyes become black, regardless of our diet, when we are… thirsty." Edward grimaces unhappily. "That is the manifestation of our hellish nature, I believe," he adds with a dry chuckle.

I wince. Hellish nature?

"Well," I start cautiously, "you seem to put a lot of thought into what has celestial origins and what comes from the opposite department. But unless you know something I don't… it's nothing but human beliefs, you know."

Edward pulls his lips into a polite smile, acknowledging my attempt to comfort him, though it's clear he doesn't share the sentiment.

I change the subject. "And since then, we started bumping into each other on a relatively regular basis. Gosh, you were infuriating…" I shake my head, laughing.

"Your decision to part ways with me after Anna Bolena was the darkest day of my existence. After that, it occurred to me that maybe I had made a mistake." He runs his hands through his hair, his eyebrows furrowed. "Until then, I had thought I was protecting you… I still believe that I must and that I have failed…"

He suddenly cuts himself off, and the next moment, Maggie enters the room, asking if we're done with the lesson and if Mr. Masen would like some refreshments. Regrettably, though not unexpectedly, Mr. Masen opts for more Czerny instead of lunch.

XXX

New Year's Day comes and goes, and so does Epiphany.

Maggie keeps asking me if we've set a date, and I keep telling her we're aiming for a summer wedding because I want a light dress. I also mention that we're waiting to hear back from Edward's relatives, to see if they can make it (shamelessly recycling that made-up aunt from Yorkshire that Carlisle told us about), so we can't set a date yet. Maggie sighs, clearly not thrilled, but agrees that we should make sure his family can be included.

Edward and I continue existing in our happy bubble. We meet every morning, and then later, he comes to my room to "say goodnight," which is our code for a makeout session that varies in intensity, depending on what he thinks he can handle at the moment without hurting or biting me. I have to trust his judgment on this entirely. To me, he always seems totally in control, but what do I know?

These sessions always leave me craving more, yet feeling incredibly, impossibly happy.

Our idyllic routine is suddenly disrupted one morning when, instead of just Edward, both Masen brothers appear at my door. Their faces show different degrees of worry. Edward looks downright tormented, with dark circles under his eyes and hair even messier than usual, as if he's spent the night tugging at it. Carlisle seems a bit paler than normal, but he still carries his usual calm, positive demeanor.

My aunt and uncle have just left the house to see their old friend on the other end of London, so I suspect the timing of their visit isn't random—Edward and Carlisle were waiting for them to leave.

I show them to the drawing room and close the door.

Eyes wild and posture tense, Edward walks straight to the farthest window, radiating such a level of distress that I decide to give him space for now. Instead, I turn to Carlisle.

"What happened?" I ask.

Carlisle takes a deep breath. "I believe you are familiar with the name Volturi." I nod. "We have received news that the patriarch of the family, Aro, is visiting London this week. He desires to meet you, Bella." Carlisle hesitates. "The difficulty is that this invitation is not a mere request."

Well, that sounds ominous.

"Um, okay? I mean, yes, of course, I'll meet him… When is it? And where?" My palms are suddenly uncomfortably sweaty. I know nothing about this Aro, but Edward's behavior makes me nervous.

Speaking of Edward, as soon as I agree to see Aro, he lets out a loud groan. I start, and Carlisle shoots him a loaded glance.

"That might not even happen," Edward grits out through his teeth, and I realize that he must have just answered to whatever Carlisle told him in his head.

"Um, can you please explain to me the significance of this audience?" I demand.

"Of course. As Edward has told you, the Volturi are the rulers of our kind. Over millennia" Carlisle says, and here, my eyes widen, "they have amassed considerable power, not merely through material wealth, but also through their allies—vampires from around the world who possess diverse and formidable gifts—rendering them practically invincible. Those vampires call themselves The Guard. With their help, Aro, Marcus, and Caius ensure that our kind adheres to our established laws."

Interesting. "And what are these laws? To clean up after your meal?"

Carlisle winces, then smiles weakly. "As a matter of fact, you are not too far from the truth. The cardinal rule is to keep our existence hidden. No humans should know about us. Violation of this law results in the death of both the human in possession of that knowledge and the vampire who allowed it."

"Hmm, I wonder how they enforce this rule… Do they have a crystal ball or something?" I begin, and the meaning of what Carlisle just said sinks in.

I gasp and glance at Edward. His haunted eyes hold my gaze for a second, and then he looks down, defeated.

"So, this is what you meant when you said that knowing your secret will cost me my life," I say quietly.

He suddenly rushes to me and takes both of my hands in his. "We should flee. Now. They will never find you…" His voice trembles.

"Wait, wait. How… Why do you think they know that I know?" I'm slightly shaking, too.

Carlisle says, "They do not know yet, but it is only a matter of time. The moment Aro touches any of us, he will know every single thought that has ever crossed our minds."

"Oh," is all I'm capable of saying. This whole "vampires with special abilities" thing turns out to be not quite as much fun as I'd imagined.

"As perhaps you have noticed," Carlisle continues, "Edward's and my opinion on the subject have divided. He believes that it is best to flee—before Aro knows the extent of the truth. However, this would look highly suspicious. We both are aware of a certain Guard member who has a special ability to find people and vampires alike, no matter where they hide, and I am certain that Aro would wish to find us." He glances at Edward, who is now sitting in the chair, his head in his hands. "I believe that we should explain your unique situation to Aro and draw his attention to the precedent, which is in our favor."

"What precedent?" I ask.

Edward lifts his eyes to me. "Rosalie," he half-whispers, before assuming another somber pose, copying Rodin's Le Penseur, but sadly in clothes.

I turn to Carlisle, hoping that he will explain.

"Ms. Hale knows about us. Aro decided to make an exception due to the nature of her immense talent. He was the one who told her, although she discerned it herself well enough while living and studying in Volterra—that is the place where our rulers live. Aro suggested that she waits to be turned only after her voice fully matures, which should happen at the approximate age of 30."

A jolt of what feels alarmingly close to jealousy hits me in the chest, and I swallow hard. So, Rosalie is tied to the Masens—to Edward—not just through some old memories, but also through a deadly secret. And soon, she'll be a vampire. She will stay with them forever.

I try not to dwell on this unsettling thought. We have more pressing issues to attend to.

"So, do I understand you correctly that we hope that Aro will be interested in my time-travel story enough to let me live?" I ask them. "Will he demand that I become a vampire, too?"

Edward flinches and shouts, "He shall not!"

I flinch, too.

Carlisle starts to speak, but after Edward cuts him off with a sharp glare, he raises his hands in a gesture of peace. A long, uncomfortable pause follows.

Finally, Edward says in a much calmer voice, "We must not even be discussing this ludicrous possibility. Aro is nothing if not patient—a virtue forged in hundreds of years of this existence. He shall wait and see. None of us knows how time travel happens, and as I am aware, not a single vampire possesses this gift… There is a possibility that becoming one, in fact, destroys the ability to travel." He steps forward, takes my hand, and brings it to his cheek. Then he closes his eyes and breathes, slowly relaxing. "I shall keep you safe, my angel," he whispers.

"I hope so… and I also hope that he will understand our "special circumstances" enough to realize that I've learned your secret through no fault of yours." I exhale forcefully. "Actually, if I wasn't so disoriented and generally obtuse, I'd have realized that you were some kind of immortal very quickly."

Edward pulls me in his arms and places a gentle kiss on my lips. "You are far from obtuse… You are the most intelligent and courageous woman I have ever known… but I have already told you that." He smiles. It's the first genuine smile I've seen on his face today, and my heart soars.

Behind me, Carlisle clears his throat. "Very well. It is settled then. I am very optimistic regarding our course of action. In fact, Aro might be able to direct us to a solution for Bella's time travel predicament. If anyone might have ideas, it would be him. He is one of the most educated and unorthodox thinkers among us." Carlisle takes his hat and heads towards the door, gesturing for Edward to follow. "I shall inform you about the time and the place as soon as they send word."

And just like that, I find myself being drawn into the vampire world deeper than I'd ever intended.

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