This is NOT Royal Rebellions in EPOV, this is a series of outtakes in EPOV. If you're not reading Royal Rebellions, this won't make sense.
This is pretty much going to cover all of Prince Edward's crazy first encounters with Bella, as well as a few more major events later on in the story.
Disclaimer: SM owns all.
Thanks to Pinkaquaclouds for being the most awesome beta I know. :)
The First Night
"Your Highness? We're here, sir."
I am snapped out of my mindless reverie by my driver, who holds the door of the car open. I have not noticed that we've arrived at the manor. The drive back from the airport was long and tedious.
The valets are pulling luggage out of the trunk of the car just as Emmett's vehicle pulls up behind it. I thank my driver, silently dismissing him, as Emmett approaches me.
"Good to have you back, man," he says as we walk back to the manor. "How was London?"
"It hasn't changed," I reply curtly.
"I'm not on guard tonight," he informs me. He's not in Secret Service mode anymore, like he was at the airport. Thankfully we had escaped unseen; the paparazzi can be insane. "What do you say to a round of pool?"
I shake my head. "No, I'm too tired. Jetlag. My body is telling me it's three in the morning."
Emmett shrugs. "It's cool. Maybe some other time. You look like shit."
Once we enter the manor, we're bombarded with workers asking me if I need anything. I shake my head and they instantly disappear. I'm exhausted and I hate being pampered.
"You good for the night?" Emmett asks me when we reach the third floor. It's bustling with activity; workers are entering and leaving my bedroom, currently in the process of putting my belongings away.
"Yeah, I'm good. See you tomorrow."
Emmett slaps me on the back before heading towards his room, which is just three doors away from mine.
When I enter my bedroom, I see about four workers pulling stuff out of my suitcases and placing them in the drawers and my closet. My mind and body are absolutely worn out, and I want nothing more than to rest. It's impossible for me to sleep anywhere other than a bed, so my head is pounding with sleep deprivation from the flight and car ride.
"Leave that for tomorrow," I address the room at large. "I'm tired."
I hear a chorus of yes sir's and then they leave.
Once the door is shut, I let out a huge sigh and head straight for the bathroom, stripping down as I go. I litter the floor with my pants and shirt, leaving a trail behind me.
I prefer my room to be messy. It feels normal.
I skip a shower and just brush my teeth, staring at my gaunt expression in the mirror above the sink.
My face lacks life.
Once I am clad in nothing but my boxers, I make my way to the bed. It looks so welcoming.
Right before I climb in, I hear a deep cough from outside my door.
Sighing, I turn and head towards it.
I peek my head out and see Phillip, one of the SS. For some reason, my father make an SS guard stand outside my bedroom every night. It's overprotection in the extreme, and it irritates me.
"Go to bed, Phillip," I tell him.
His expression is stoic. "But the king-"
"The king fails to understand that this isn't necessary," I cut him off, irritated with sleep deprivation and exhaustion. "Go to bed."
He hesitates and I raise a brow at him.
"I've slept all day, sir, knowing that I'd be here tonight," he tells me quickly.
I shake my head. "I don't want you standing here all night. Find something else to do, just don't be outside my door for the next ten hours."
His shoulders slump, and he nods, resigned. "Yes sir."
"Lock your door, sir."
I resist the urge to roll my eyes before shutting the door.
This manor probably has to be the least dangerous place in the country.
I don't even remember if I really do lock my door.
I don't care. I need sleep.
An earsplitting scream.
It rips through my slumber and wrenches me out of my dreamless sleep, making my body go rigid and my heart stop. For a split second I think it's part of some nightmare, but I'm proven wrong when there is movement on my right and then a thump on the ground, a thump that takes half of my comforter with it.
There is the sound of more movement and my heart is beating a frantic rhythm, wrought with shock and confusion.
I sit up abruptly, and in the dark I make out a figure crawling towards the door. It unsettles me, and for a second I hope that Phillip didn't listen to me.
What in the name of…
"Stop," I say, and the figure freezes.
I blink the sleep out of my eyes and reach over to turn the bedside lamp on just as the figure stands.
Wide, chocolate brown eyes wander the room in fear and puzzlement. Her hair is a chaotic mess that rivals my own, and her pale features are tinted with a soft shade of pink.
Her bewildered expression rapidly changes from bewildered to horrified.
She stares at me, and I can do nothing but stare back.
Her mouth opens and closes, as though she's trying to form words, and when she manages to speak she says the last thing I would ever expect her to say.
"I just wanted to pee!"
She turns and runs out of the room, the door slamming shut behind her.
She leaves the silence of the room in her wake, while I am left to sit and attempt to assess what has just happened.
My thoughts are an incoherent jumble at first, and I can't quite make sense of anything.
Who was she?
I don't recall ever seeing her before, so she must be new. A maid, perhaps?
How did she end up in my bedroom, and in my bed?
Why did she scream?
… Why did she tell me that she needed to pee?
All these questions and more circle around in my head, but overpowering the questions is the image of her face.
Her delicate, innocent face with the most expressive eyes.
Then, I laugh.
The sound is foreign to me.
I still can't fully wrap my head around the situation, so I chalk it off to being something hilarious and random before turning the lamp off.
I fall back onto my pillows and rub my hands over my face.
I glance at the clock.
It's early, and I'm still exhausted. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and try to get my body to relax so that sleep can overcome me again.
I use meditative methods that I've learned from somewhere, though at the moment I can't recall my source.
When the breathing in and out doesn't work, I roll over onto my stomach, aggravated.
I grab the pillow next to my and bury my face in it.
The scent of it lingers in the pillow I now hold against my face. It makes me uncomfortable.
Irritated once again, I push the pillow away and lie on my back, staring at the ceiling.
There's a hint of strawberries in the air as well.
It's not unappealing, but it rubs me the wrong way for a reason I can't explain.
I may need to have the room cleaned tomorrow, to get it to smell like something other than strange girls.
I close my eyes and focus on nothing but the exhaustion still present in my body.
It takes a while but I slowly start to succumb.
Waves of chocolate and skin of ivory dance behind my eyelids before the darkness overpowers them.
A/N: There you have it, folks. :)
The next outtake should be posted soon enough, most likely a little after the next update of RR.
Let me know what you think!