Thank you for the amazing support of this story.

The fandom lost a dear reader this week. Grandmachix was a huge supporter to me and I'll miss her reviews and kind words. Judy, thank you for loving my words, I'll miss you. This chapter is for her.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 2

Isabella's morning began with an insistent knocking on the back door of her house. It was the private entrance, not the one used by people seeking treatment at the store. The front door to the shop had a thick cord that would ring bells throughout the shop and alert her to a customer even when she was in her home quarters. Her eyes went wide at the sight of one of the royal carriages, causing her to run down the stairs and open the door.

"Emmett, what's the matter? Is it father? King Jasper or Queen Alice?" Isabella asked in quick succession.

"No, it is Marcus. He's passed away. The physician confirmed it," Emmett relayed.

"I need to change and pack a bag. Will you come in?"

Emmett followed her inside, watching as she mechanically packed a bag for her stay at the castle and then she went into her bathroom to change. She emerged in a dark blue dress, as was custom since she was his next of kin, but not a blood relative. Her hair was braided and pinned up, so her navy bonnet would conceal it.

As a healer, Isabella had attended many funerals, but this was the first one in which she had a role in since her mother's.

After locking up her home, Emmett helped her into the carriage and they rode back to the castle. Isabella went straight to Marcus' rooms and was met by the guard who was sitting with Marcus' body. He left without a word and allowed Isabella the chance to begin her work.

"Isabella, I'll be outside if you need my help," Emmett said and closed the door.

Marcus had already been stripped by the physician in preparation of her work..

There was water waiting as well, so she soaked some rags and washed his body carefully. Her time working with patients meant she had the strength to move Marcus as she worked, but to begin redressing him, she would need help. She used the traditional oils and then called for Emmett and the other guard to enter.

Together, they dressed him and swaddled him in fabric. When the task was done, Emmett and the guard prepared to carry him out. Before they did, the guard turned to Isabella. "We'll keep watch over him, Miss."

Once they were gone, Isabella found a servant and requested they find as many crates and boxes as they could for her to begin the task of packing up Marcus' rooms.

Isabella began in his work rooms, his books all finding their way into various boxes. As soon as one was filled it was closed and carried out. A cart had been provided to bring the boxes to her shop, so she could continue to work without much thought of logistics.

It took hours to pack up his library, before she moved onto the other items he had in his main room. There she was able to start and make critical decisions. Some of those items could be donated, while others had seen better days.

After her evening meal, she moved onto his store room, where vials, bottles, boxes, and jars of all manner of ingredients were housed. The cart had returned from carrying the first load to her home, so boxes were once again removed to be placed in their transport. The shelves were half-empty when she turned in, sleeping on the cot in the corner of the room.

The next morning, Isabella got to work early in the store room, wanting the second cartload to make the trip before it was too late in the day. Once the work was done in his public rooms, Isabella moved onto his private quarters.

Clothes and linens were packed for donation, while his few personal effects and his journals were packed into the last boxes and taken to her home.

With his rooms cleared out, Isabella notified the servants that the rooms were ready for them to clean and cleanse. The windows were open, so when the smoke was cleared from them burning the incense and herbs, the room would be free for use.

Isabella went down to the chapel where the pyre was being built. The main structure was built and the men were now adding the bundles beneath. She watched as the work was being done as King Jasper approached her.

"How are you faring this morning?"

"Marcus knew this was coming. Even his parting words the last time I saw him … he said farewell, not goodbye or goodnight."

"Do you believe the legends?" the king asked.

"I've never read them. My father thought they were nonsense, but I have the book the queen gave me, so I will read it when I find the time."

"Your father is a good man, and he may believe those stories more than he lets on. If I could make a suggestion, Isabella, find the time to read them."

Isabella turned to the king and eyed him for a moment. "I should go and pick the flowers for the pyre. Good day, Your Majesty."

Queen Alice approached just as Isabella stepped away from the king, a large basket filled with blooms on her arm.

"Isabella, I hope you don't mind that I took this task off your list, but I wanted to do something for Marcus."

"Of course, Your Majesty. Shall we arrange the flowers?"

Alice nodded and the pair arranged the flowers on the pyre. The holy man approached as they finished and held out the funeral chest. Isabella worked to mix the incense and herbs, and then sprinkled the mixture over the pyre. Isabella returned to the castle, only emerging in time for the ceremony.

Just before twilight, Marcus' body was carried out to the pyre and placed on the platform. Isabella took the torch offered to her and lit the pyre. She watched as it caught, the scent of the incense and flowers filled the air as the smoke billowed.

The people gathered began to chant and sing as the fire grew. Isabella watched as her mentor was engulfed, traveling to the spirit world. It made her think of her mother. She barely remembered her, but the funeral pyre was still a strong memory. She'd always been enchanted by the cleansing nature of fire.

The structure gave way, and after a time the fire died down to a smolder. Isabella wiped the tears from her face and moved to the stable. Her father caught up with her before she could make a clean getaway.

"Isabella, stay at the palace," Charles pleaded with her.

"Father, I know you mean well, but I need to go home. I have work to do and remaining here will only delay my work. I will see you soon."

The stable boy offered Isabella a hand in getting into her carriage and she took the reins.

"Goodnight, Isabella."

"Night, Father."

Flicking her wrists, she rode out onto the path that would lead to the castle wall. Her ride was uneventful. Many of those who came for the funeral were traveling back to the town. When she arrived at her home, she bedded down the horses and entered. She didn't want to think about the mess that was her shop at the moment, she would deal with it in the morning.