Story summary: Crown Prince Edward Anthony Masen Cullen is the heir to the throne in the small independent country, Gevalia. His life is all about duty, honor and pride for his country. However, he’s lonely, focused on his career. When his younger brother makes some poor choices, Edward is forced to fly to the United States to smooth out diplomatic relations and spend six months looking for a bride, with some pretty stiff stipulations by his mother , the Queen of Gevalia.
Isabella Swan is the oldest daughter and now owner of the Swan Family Bakery, Inc. 1897. She went to college to be a teacher but was forced to forego her dreams when her father was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. On a chance evening, a handsome stranger slips during a summer rain storm into her bakery and awakens something inside.
Who is he?
Where did he come from?
Why is she drawn to him?
All that is known is that Prince Charming is a real person and Bella is about to live A Modern-Day Fairy Tale. But will it end in a happily ever after?
Disclaimer: All characters are not mine. No copyright infringement was intended. Thank you to Stephenie Meyers for creating Edward and Bella for our enjoyment. I just like playing with them, making them my own … even for just a little while.
A Modern-Day Fairy Tale
“The motion is so tabled for further discussion after the holiday and this meeting is adjourned for today,” said Duke Edward Carlisle Anthony Cullen, the leader of the House of Lords and presider of the combined houses. He banged the gavel and the members of parliament got up, leaving the lavish chamber where the combined houses met to discuss motions to bring forward to the queen.
The Queen – who also happens to be my mother – Queen Esme Elizabeth Masen Cullen, the ruler of our small country, Gevalia.
I packed up my laptop, putting it into my worn leather satchel and slinging it over my body. The Duke walked over to me, a kind smile on his face. “Excellent proposal and compromise, son,” he said proudly. “I think it’s something your mother will approve of, Masen. You know how difficult she can be.”
“I do know that, Father,” I snorted, rolling my eyes. “You really think we can get this motion to pass? With the compromise? I hate to tax our people, but in order to increase revenue … It’s a small sum.”
“This tax increase has been on the docket for years, but we’ve never gotten it this far in either houses. I’m so proud of you. I knew that American schooling would come in handy,” he quipped, leading me down the rear staircase of the parliament building to the waiting car. We settled into the backseat. “Home, please?”
“Understood, your highness,” said our driver and bodyguard, Felix.
“Are you eating with us, Masen or are you going to spend time at Masen Manor?” Father asked.
“I’ll eat with you,” I said. “Mother sent me a text …”
“She used her cell phone? Perish the thought,” he laughed.
“I know, right?” I snickered. “She wanted to discuss Emmett and my marriage …”
“She’s still trying to push an arranged marriage, Masen. I’m so sorry. I know you want a love match. I got one with your mother. You deserve the same,” he said.
“I’d rather cut off my own balls than be in an arranged marriage,” I grumbled.
“Edward Anthony Masen Cullen! Language,” Father growled.
“My apologies,” I said, sarcasm lacing my tone as I sat back. I looked out the window with a heavy sigh. I should be happy. I’m one of the world’s elite. I’m a royal. I’m the heir to the throne of Gevalia … and yes, I know my country has the name of a coffee in the United States. We were the main exporters of said coffee. We also were known for our chocolate and fine, intricate lace.
My name is Prince Edward Anthony Masen Cullen, but I prefer to be called Masen. I’m the leader of the House of Commons. The former leader, who was elected into his position, had a sudden heart attack. I’d just returned home from completing my studies at Harvard. I got my MBA and law degree. I never slept, suffice it to say. Though, I had more freedom in Cambridge, Mass. than I do in my own home. However, when my father suggested I take over the leader of the House of Commons, my mother opposed it. The people loved it, so I was elected in unanimously. I’d finish out his term, which was for another six months.
Would I run again? That would remain to be seen … If my mother, the Queen, had her way, I wouldn’t. I’d be following her like an obedient puppy. Normally, I would do that, but this whole marriage business is fucking shit.
Please, excuse my language …
No, don’t excuse my language. Seeing as I’m a royal, I should choose who I want to marry. I don’t want to be forced into something I don’t want. I’ve seen what arranged marriages are like. Our second cousins, twice removed, Duke and Duchess Denali, have an arranged marriage. Eleazar fucks around on his wife and she does nothing about it. Divorce is frowned upon, especially among the blue bloods. I also know that my mother is trying to get me to marry their only daughter, Lady Kathryn.
Seriously, I’d rather chop of my manhood than go near that cunt.
God, I’m going to hell with my language today.
Anyway, Lady Kathryn is a bitch, plain and simple. Gorgeous and groomed, of course, but conniving and manipulative, too. She would stop at nothing to get onto the throne. She’d told me as such. When I told my mother, she said that Gevalia needed a ruler with that type of ambition.
Not going to happen … Never. Not in my lifetime.
I wouldn’t touch Lady Kathryn with my brother Emmett’s dick … and he’s a lot less discerning than me when it comes to having sex. Just saying.
“Your Highness, we’re here,” said Felix, breaking my reverie.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Felix,” I said, shaking my head. My father had already gotten out of the car. I picked up my satchel, walking into the Gevalian Palace. Now, most of the palace was on display for the people. During the week, members of our staff would give tours. My mother and father lived in a large apartment that was off-limits to the public. It was about the size of a massive home, completely renovated and elegant, per my mother’s tastes. Occasionally, they’d go down to the throne room and formal living spaces for diplomatic purposes and photo opportunities, but we didn’t live there.
My brother, when he was home, lived with them or sometimes, he’d spend time with me in my home just off the main palace’s grounds. I lived in Masen Manor, which was designated for the Crown Prince or Princess when they reached of age. I loved my family, but I couldn’t go back to living in the royal apartment after being out on my own for almost six years, four years of undergrad at Dartmouth and then two and half years of grad school at Harvard. So, upon my return, I moved into Masen Manor. I had my own staff, but I preferred to take care of myself.
I liked cooking, and baking. I enjoyed cleaning and relishing in the feeling of a hard-day’s work. I could do my own laundry, make my own meals and wipe my own ass. When I was in school, I refused to be treated any differently than any of the other students. My mother, however, had a snit fit. I lived in the dorms my freshman year, but was moved into a secured apartment for the rest of my time.
Supposedly, there was a threat made on my life.
I didn’t really believe it, but to assuage her fears, I moved into the swanky apartment, but I was against having a staff taking care of me. I agreed to a bodyguard, but said it had to be a fellow student who was studying criminal justice. He was a massive guy from the Pacific Northwest, attending Dartmouth on a scholarship. I ran a thorough background check and when it came back clean, Jacob Black became my bodyguard, roommate and best friend. I also paid him a hefty salary. Suffice it to say, he didn’t need the scholarship. He still lives in New England, but he works in the New York office of the FBI. We’re still close friends, despite me moving back to Gevalia. I was standing up at his wedding, acting as best man, in a year.
“Your Highness, the Queen requests that you join her in the study,” said one of the many servants we had.
I nodded graciously, heading into the study. My mother was sitting regally, reading the minutes from the parliamentary session. “Mother,” I smiled, bowing deeply.
“Edward,” she replied, putting the paper to the side and holding up her hand. She was the only person who called me by my given name. But, it got confusing. My father was also named Edward. It was my father who suggested calling me Masen. I loved it. Mother hated it. So, I kept doing it. Just to spite her. Walking over to her, I kissed her knuckles and sat down across from her. “Interesting proposal, Edward, about the taxes. Both sides are on board?”
“We’re discussing it in chambers after the holiday,” I said. “But, the fact that both sides are even considering it … it seems promising.”
“Good,” she smiled. “This will be your last act as the head of the House of Commons, Edward. Get this tax increase passed.”
“I don’t understand,” I frowned.
She sighed heavily and her posture deflated slightly. She reached behind a pillow and produced a newspaper. It was turned to the entertainment section. “I was reading the paper and I saw … this … while I was drinking my tea. I damned near spit it out.”
Royal Bad Boy on the Loose in the City
Prince Emmett McCarty Cullen was brought in for questioning the other night. Police were told that he was carrying and distributing illegal substances in a club on the upper east side, Sapphire. After enduring hours of questioning, Cullen, who is the second in line to the throne of Gevalia, was released with no charges pressed against him.
He’s also been partying it up in Chelsea, Manhattan and Brooklyn. He’s been recently linked with several supermodels, actresses and even a famous drag queen, Alexis Michelle. He’s been staying in the states while he completes his college education, attending New York University, getting his degree in business and international studies. However, after researching further, it would appear that Prince Emmett has flunked out of college and is living it up in the Big Apple, enjoying the freedom, away from his overbearing mother, Queen Esme Elizabeth Masen Cullen.
Who knows what’s going to happen to Prince Emmett, but he’s outstaying his royal welcome. Stay tuned as we find out more about this developing story.
“He was brought for questioning about drugs and he flunked out of college,” I grumbled, fisting my hands around the newspaper. “How come we were not notified about this? Unlike me, Emmett has an entourage. He loves having his minions.”
“Entourage, yes. Meaningful and trusting staff? No,” Mother growled. “He took the dregs with him. People I would have let go if it weren’t for Emmett taking them with him. They’re probably the ones supplying the drugs to him. He’s twenty-six, Edward. You have this sense of duty, honor. Emmett? He’s just a brat.”
“He is that, but he’s still my brother, your son,” I argued. “He needs to make mistakes.”
“The thing is that he’s making mistakes and not learning from them,” Mother snapped, tossing the paper to the side and her green eyes flashing angrily. “I’m done, Edward. I need you to bring him home.” She smoothed her skirt and crossed her ankles daintily. “I was supposed to fly to the States with your father for some diplomatic events in a month. I’ve spoken to the state department and you’ll be going in my stead. I’m not getting any younger. Long plane rides make my bones ache.”
“But my post to parliament?” I asked, my brow furrowing.
“I know, Edward. You’re proud of your work, but Emmett is out of control. You’re the only one who can talk some sense to him,” Mother said, her voice weary, pinching her nose. “He’ll just continue acting like a fool if I say something and I love your father, but he cannot control Emmett, even if he had a shock collar.”
“Mother!” I snorted.
“It’s true,” she smirked. I arched a brow, shaking my head sadly. “My trip was supposed to last until the Gevalian Independence Day Celebration in February. You’ll be staying for the same amount time.” She also stared at me, her green eyes narrowing.
“What?” I asked.
“It’s also an opportunity for you to have your last bit of fun before your engagement is announced,” she said, her lips pursed.
“I’m not having an arranged marriage, Mother,” I snarled, shooting up and stomping to the window.
“Edward Anthony Masen Cullen, I’m your mother and your Queen. You do not walk away,” she snapped.
“Is it so hard for you to understand that I want a love match?” I asked, leaning against the wall. “I don’t want to be in a marriage with someone I hate. I know you want me to mate with Lady Kathryn, the bitch. I’m not a prized stallion, Mother, and I refuse to bend on this!”
“Edward,” she hissed.
“She’s awful, Mother. No … just no,” I said, turning my back to her. I stared out, looking at the mountains that surrounded our palace. As I stared outside, another compromise swirled in my head. “You were amenable to the compromise with the parliament, yes?”
“Of course. It’s logical,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes exasperatedly.
“Then, a compromise for my marriage,” I said, walking back to her and leaning on the antique chair I was sitting in before I had my temper tantrum. Okay, not a temper tantrum, but still … “Let me use this six months find a suitable fiancée. You know me, Mother. I’m not Emmett. I don’t have empty relationships and I know that you were just suggesting that I sow my royal oats.”
“Well, yes,” she blushed.
“I don’t want that. I want love. I want forever. Yes, it’s unrealistic, but it’s what I want. I can use my time in the states to find someone who compliments me, completes me. You found love with Father. You had a love match. Why can’t I?” I pleaded. “And if I can’t find someone who does that, then you can announce my engagement to Lady Bitch.”
“Edward,” Mother growled.
“Sorry, Lady Kathryn,” I sighed. “It’s the best of both worlds, Mother.”
“There has to be stipulations,” she argued. “I don’t want some country bumpkin who wants to be with you because you’re a prince, Edward. I’d prefer you stick among the royals …” I gave her a dry look. “But, since I’m being so open-minded, I’ll agree to compromise. But, you need to concede to my stipulations.”
“Within reason, Mother,” I replied.
“Your future bride must be Gevalian. That’s in our laws. Every ruler has been a native Gevalian,” she said, arching a brow. “Also, never married. Divorce is … it doesn’t happen, Edward. So, you can’t have a divorced fiancée. And one more …”
“A virgin,” she said, giving me a triumphant look.
“Mother, that is never going to happen. A virgin? Were you a virgin on your wedding night?” I asked. Her face flamed and she turned away, giving me the answer I already knew. I was already conceived when my mother walked down the aisle. “That’s what I thought. You and Father played hide the sausage before your wedding day. It would hypocritical for you to expect the same from me. I’m not a virgin. I lost my virginity to Jane, the chamber maid, when I was fourteen.”
“Jane was easily twice your age!” Mother yelled, glowering at me.
“And I was a horny teenager,” I bit back. “And don’t even think about having her arrested. I pushed for it. She was hot and I saw an opportunity. However, after losing my virginity, I knew I didn’t want an empty relationship. My wife, or my girlfriend, or my fiancée, would not just be a receptacle for my sperm or a warm body to fuck.”
“Edward,” she sighed.
“It’s true, Mother. I want someone whom I love, cherish and respect, someone who’s intelligent, funny, kind and fair. With that, comes the desires and wishes of forever. That’s what I want … and I’m not going to turn someone away because their hymen isn’t intact,” I grumbled.
“I knew I shouldn’t have sent you to law school,” she muttered.
“Because I can argue my way out of a paper bag,” I snickered. “I would still say the same thing, even without going to law school.”
“Okay, the virginity clause is moot,” she sighed. “But, I’d prefer it if she was a virgin.”
“Duly noted, Mother,” I deadpanned. “When do I leave?”
“Ideally, as soon as possible. But, knowing you, you want to get that tax increase through parliament and signed, yes?” she asked. I nodded. “Then, once that’s done, you’ll be heading to New York City, Edward. Only you can help your brother. I never wanted to bring shame to our country, but Emmett …”
“Mother, don’t say that,” I interrupted.
“I don’t want to. I love both of my sons, but Emmett, I’m ashamed of him,” Mother frowned. “Bring him back, Edward.” She got up and walked away, her shoulders, which normally stood tall and proud, were hunched and defeated.
Pulling out my phone, I sent a text to my brother. You are in trouble, Mac. Heaps of trouble … Mase
Whatever, your MAJESTY. I’m having my fun. Fuck. You … Mac
It’s going to be a tough road to get him back. Damn it.
A/N: We heard from Masen … and from his slightly uptight mother. What do you think about Princeward? Yummy, hmmmmm? Pictures of the Royal Family, along with the Gevalian parliament, palace and Masen Manor are on my blog. Link for that is on my profile. I’m also on Facebook: Tufano79’s Twilight Fanfiction Appreciation. Twitter, too: tufano79.
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