A/N: Hello loves! Getting a lot of questions about the baby, so I'm gonna clear something up from previous chapters. In The Laws of Nature, Emily said that only male Shapeshifters could create other Shapeshifters. This is because ANY WOMAN with ICHOR running through their veins cannot conceive children because shedding blood during a menstrual cycle is considered a "waste" of godly essence. Isabella has regular, mortal blood, which means that she can conceive children. Isabella's situation is unique is because there has never been a Shapeshifter pregnancy before; she is the first mortal woman to lie with one (Leah herself is a Shapeshifter - therefore infertile - and Emily was already turned into an immortal when she was intimate with Sam). Hope this clears things up!

The Memorial

Rustling woke Isabella early the next morning. She bolted upright in bed, startled by the presence of two unfamiliar creatures.

"Who are you?"

"Frisa, My Lady," the nearest aura swept into a graceful bow so that her wispy hairs tumbled over her shoulders, nose nearly scraping the ground. "This is Elia. We are your new attendants."

Out of habit, Isabella was about to ask what happened to Plia, until she remembered what had transpired the night before. Roughly, she swallowed and nodded, trying to ease herself with the thought that she did not know these aurae. They could have been innocent to the cyclone that nearly took her life. Guilty or not, Isabella was better off not knowing this one detail for her own sanity. If she kept on banishing aurae out of skepticism, there would be none left.

Leaving her new attendants be, Isabella got out of bed and shuffled over to the bath. Her stomach did not feel right, rolling and roiling as if she had spent a night at sea instead of wrapped in luxurious sheets on top of a downy mattress. As soon as she approached the basin, she heaved over and expelled all the contents of her stomach. Hot bile dribbled from her bottom lip as she purged whatever was left from dinner from her body. She thought that once the offending agent was gone, she would feel better, but the sickness only intensified.

Hands reached down to stroke over her queasy abdomen, only to rise over a bump. A very pronounced bump.

Isabella's heart stopped and she scrambled up to her feet to get to the mirror.

Her reflection stared back at her, face paled and covered in a sheen of sweat, dark eyes wide with terror as they focused in on her extended stomach. There would be no denying that she was with child now, the swell of her stomach pronounced under the blue robes. She barely had to pull on the fabric for it to be noticeable. Expert draping could disguise most of it, but soon she would not be able to conceal it at all. At this size, Isabella figured she appeared at least a few months along, and at this rate, she would be ready for the birth by the end of the next lunar cycle.

Sighing, Isabella sank down to the floor, unable to maintain the strength to keep herself upright. Everything was just so exhausting, her head pounding and the sickness swirling. The Elders and the other women from her village made bearing children seem like a blessing, something for which to aspire. Now that Isabella was in the thick of things, she could not help but feel lied to. Of course, those women were not carrying godly children in their wombs, nor did they suffer from magical time distortions.

"My Lady." Isabella looked up to find Elia staring blankly at her, those silvery aura eyes filled with a detached interest. "Are you quite alright? Would you like me to fetch a towel, or perhaps a glass of warm milk?"

The sound of drinking or eating anything was repulsive, and Isabella made a face at the suggestion. Elia deduced that to mean that Isabella indeed wanted the towel, and so the aura dissolved for a moment only to reappear with the cool cloth. She dabbed it gently on Isabella's warm skin, the feeling absolutely delightful in contrast to the hellfire that was her room.

Frisa appeared a moment later, surveying the scene before vanishing - no doubt off to tell the River God of the latest development in Isabella's condition.

In the meantime, Elia helped Isabella gently up off the floor, letting her mistress use her cloudy arm for support as they made their way back into the bedroom. Isabella was made to lie back down while the aura gathered new robes from the wardrobe. Her old ones were stripped efficiently from her body, thrown into a bin for washing. Isabella would not miss them if they were to be burned instead; the smell of sick was so hard to get out after all, and the last thing she wanted to be reminded of was this terrible nausea.

Her new robes were the same as the others, but for some reason, they were terribly uncomfortable. Everything was too hot and the usually soft fabric chafed against her sensitive skin, scratching against her tender breasts. If this was what her future had in store, Isabella did not want to be with child any longer. No, it was too much of a pain, too much of feeling like a stranger in her own body. After all she had suffered, Isabella at least thought she would maintain her sense of self, and now she was losing even that to the strange creature growing in her womb.

Isabella needed a distraction. Brushing her hair was a relaxing pastime. The long, sweeping motions gave her time to think about what she was going to do.

"Almost due for a trim," Elia commented, playing with the long strands. She was right, of course. Isabella had not had the time nor mind to upkeep her hair, choosing to throw it in braids or wear it loose. It nearly fell to her waist, dark locks littered with lighter shades of golden brown from the sun. "Would you like me to style it?"

Isabella nodded once, and Elia's ghostly hands went to work pulling the mass of hair back into something resembling a chignon. It felt nice to have fingers running through her hair, massaging her scalp. It helped with the thinking, and more accurately, the forgetting.

Scissors sat at the far end of her vanity, brass handles shining dully, tempting her. Isabella knotted the hair in a fist. She had the manic urge to cut it all off.

"I need fresh air!" she declared rather loudly considering that only Elia was in the room, and no more than a few paces from her at that.

Still, Isabella pushed herself away from the vanity and descended the stairs from her wing of the estate, Elia following a proper distance behind just in case Isabella found herself in need of something.

Once more, Isabella was astounded at the difference of this palace compared to the other. The warmer colors and softer stones made the Rose Palace alive in a way that those harsh marble walls and floors of The River God's palace never could. These halls had history; Isabella could feel it seeping into the air around her. It was a benevolent presence, if not a melancholy one. Still, Isabella could imagine a life here, and a happy one at that. Well, as happy as she could be given her predicament.

Her hands folded over her stomach, still not used to the unfamiliar presence of the bump. She thought of a future here with her child, of small feet padding under archways and laughter echoing across the ceiling. She thought of smiles and nights spent holding her little one to her chest. She thought of all the small things motherhood could provide, most of all companionship in this dark and unforgiving land.

Isabella would protect her child from the dangers of this world. That, she swore. No one and nothing would touch her child if she could prevent it. She would sooner die then see such a small, innocent life snuffed out in the same manner hers was.

The walk led her out of the palace and onto the grounds. The view from the stairs was incredible. All debris had been swept away by doting dryads, leaving nothing but a path of greenery down to the river bank. The sun shone high in the sky, clouds as white and fluffy as cotton dotting the sky. Isabella meandered in the direction of the breeze, letting a heavenly scent lead her towards a pocket of colorful roses enclosed by gates of wrought iron.

Stepping under the trellises, Isabella felt peace. The world stopped spinning, her head cleared, and the sickness faded into the background. She was surrounded in nothing but roses from ceiling - yes, ceiling, as there was once some kind of domed pergola that the vines had taken over - to grassy floor. Fallen petals blanketed the grass, her feet kicking them up and tossing them into the air. The perfume of the blooms was intoxicating, calming in a way that nothing and no one else had succeeded in doing.

Isabella stared in wonder at this magical place, spinning slowly where she stood so she could take it all in.

"What is this place?"

She had not meant to express her thoughts aloud, but it was then she realized that she was not alone.

"Irina so loved the flowers," Edward sighed, running his fingers reverently over the plush red petals. They were so saturated that the color rubbed off on his hand, running in wet drops like blood. "They were her favorite, so right in the middle of the largest grove, I created this garden to house the largest, most incredible blooms. Even now, they astound."

The River God stood across the space in contrast to the reds and pinks as his robes were stark white, so white they nearly blended into his skin. He did not appear to be upset that Isabella had found this garden that so clearly held a beloved space in his missing heart.

"They are beautiful," Isabella agreed, though she dared not touch a single one.

Isabella took a turn around the overgrown garden, stunned at the wall to wall blooms. They had truly taken over. The covered every surface except the centerpiece: a large stone platform seating an empty fountain with a statue of a woman standing as the centerpiece. She held a stone orb - presumably symbolic for the sun, and also from where the water would once have sprung - in one hand, the other hand placed over her heart. Her smile was all too familiar, angelic and absolutely radiant.

It was Irina.

"An incredible likeness, is it not?" Edward asked, moving beside Isabella as he stared longingly at the statue.

"Yes, incredible."

"What she loved turned into her jailer," Edward said mournfully, eyes cast upward at the stone statue of his fallen love. "This garden, once her pride and joy, has become her grave. I could not stand to leave her to the elements as Aro was so inclined to do to those who had displeased him. I snuck into his palace, knowing the risk to my person, and retrieved her body. I buried her here, hoping that at least in death, she would find the peace she never quite had in her short life."

Heartbreaking in its honesty, the confession moved Isabella to tears. Her eyes watered, fat drops leaking from the corners of her eyes. Damn her fickle moods! This was the child's fault, she knew it. Regardless of the reason, Isabella knew deep down that she probably would have felt the same way even without the interference of the babe.

She swallowed thickly, keeping her eyes focused on the statue instead of on her husband who was, undoubtedly, wondering why tears were being shed at all. He would not want her pity, that she knew for certain. "I would love to have known her, and know you as she did."

Edward hummed thoughtfully, his golden gaze unwavering as it lingered upon the statue. "I was different then. Unrecognizable, even."

"Because you had a heart?"

"Because I did not yet know how it felt to carry the weight of failure upon my shoulders."

Another astonishing bout of truth that left her reeling. Isabella wondered if this was to be their new normal: going from nothing but lies to nothing but startling revelations. Both extremes had her frustrated, though in different ways. When it was nothing but lies and patronizing half-truths, Isabella felt disrespected and hurt. Now, Isabella was frustrated because she had no idea how to reconcile this new version of her husband with the monster she had created. She did not know how to amend a past she was not a part of, nor pave way to a future that she did not know that they still had.

"Plia came to me last night. She said you were upset with her, that you sent her away."

The subject change was abrupt and unexpected, but also alarming. Isabella did not know that Plia cared so much; she assumed that her show of compassion the day before was just an act. Genuine or not, however, did little to change Isabella's opinion of the aura. There was still broken trust and broken friendship between them. Isabella knew that no matter what Plia did, there were some offenses that could not be mended.

"You know why."

"Yes, I suppose so," Edward replied, unsurprised. "And I suppose it is senseless of me to ask if forgiveness is in the cards?"

"Very."

"Very well," Edward nodded, once again unsurprised with the turn of events, as if he had predicted this exact outcome. Perhaps he was starting to pay attention to Isabella after all. "I shall have her reassigned to the southernmost corridors to keep her out of your way. Would that be acceptable?"

It was more than acceptable; it was overly considerate, and dare she say protective. More actions like these, and Isabella would be forced to believe that the River God actually cared about her more than just out of obligation.

"Thank you, My Lord."

"No thanks required, Isabella," he dismissed shortly, not wanting any praise. Edward tucked his hands behind his back, eyes moving past the statue to look at her properly, settling on her growing stomach. "It has also become aware to me that the child will be in need of a nursery. One of the rooms in your wing should suit. Which should be cleared for the task?"

"There is no need. There is ample space in my own quarters to sleep the child. I was thinking of moving out the sitting furniture and replacing it with a cot, perhaps a chest of toys and other necessities."

"If you are certain," Edward hummed agreeably, not seeming to mind one way or another. In fact, the River God was exceptionally agreeable this day, as he had been since he stepped foot onto this ground. Perhaps being around his lost love found him open to feeling vulnerable, less irritable.

"You have been exceedingly generous towards me, and I was simply wondering...why?"

"Why?" he repeated, dumbfounded.

"Yes. I know you do not care for me, at least not in the way a husband should, and that is fine because I do not care for you in that way either, but I have come to expect a certain level of...callousness...from you, and now..."

"And now?"

"You are gentle. Compassionate. I do not understand the change. Have I done something? Surely this all cannot stem from one revelation."

The River God thinned his lips as he stared pensively out amongst the garden. Isabella had the feeling that, until this moment, he had not been consciously aware of his change. He looked reflective, as if assessing all his previous actions and comparing them to the ones of the past. Even a blind man could spot the change. Isabella took a stab that maybe his brush with death and her playing nursemaid had humbled him, but she did not think such a mundane reason could affect the heart of a centuries-old deity. No, this had to do with Irina and her looming presence in this painfully beautiful place.

A hand reached out to stroke the flowers once more, except this time, a thorn caught on Edward's thumb and a small drop of ichor leaked onto the petal, sparkling gold in the faded sunlight.

"Apologies have never been my strong suit, and I have never before considered the need to apologize to a mortal, but I am realizing now that I have made mistakes, mistakes that have impacted your life and wellbeing. You were my responsibility, and I let you down. For that, I think I shall always harbor regret. This is my way of remedying that."

"You are only being kind to clean your own conscience?"

"Partly."

"And the other part?" Isabella asked, only to be met with Edward's walls rapidly rebuilding themselves. She could feel him closing down the subject without a word. She had pushed too far, and he was running away, falling back into old patterns. Isabella fought not to sigh. "I suppose it matters not. I am simply glad that we are on civil terms."

"Yes, for that I am grateful as well," Edward agreed cordially.

Conversation died, and this time the silence lingered. There was no reason for her to stay. She had intruded upon his sanctuary for long enough.

"Edward," Isabella called gently before she left, her husband turning around at the sound of his name. "For what it is worth, for all the trouble I caused you, inadvertently and otherwise, I am truly sorry."

He said nothing, but his eyes did all the talking. They were filled with such a sadness, one that Isabella knew would never leave, but now there was a seed of hope nestled there. Maybe...maybe there was hope for them after all, hope for a cordial future raising this child, loving this child, and who knows...maybe even loving each other. Isabella would have thought it impossible before, but...if the man she had seen these past days stayed for good...who knew what was possible?

She was nearly to the steps when something caught her eye. Something out of the ordinary - hulking and monstrous. Something covered with fur, staring at her husband with hungry black eyes

Isabella screamed and Edward turned right into the jowls of a wolf.