The wedding is nearly here! Until next week.

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Chapter 13

Isabella stared blankly at the pages of her mother's journal, sure she was reading it wrong.

The craft is an ancient one, passed down through the bloodline. From mother to daughter, or on rare occasions, a son. It manifests in different ways for different witches, but the more they study and practice their craft, the more powerful they become.

Isabella, I already see your talents shining through and I believe you will be a powerful witch one day. Maybe as powerful as the priestess of lore. But that means you have a great deal to learn so you can be ready to face what is coming. It is my fear, sweet daughter, that I will not be there to teach you what you need. That is why I'm filling these journals with all that I know, so you may learn from me even after I'm gone.

"Bre, what's wrong?"

"My mother was a witch, and according to her journals, so am I. One powerful enough that I'll rival some mythic priestess. This is insanity, right? There can't be any truth to it."

"Why?" Edward asked.

"Because it is fantastical."

"More fantastical than me being a faerie or Queen Alice being a seer? Why is your being a witch so untenable?"

Isabella's eyes met his, her expression shocked. "Are all the legends true then?"

"It is possible they were at some point, but we won't know for sure until we're faced with one."

"What should we do?" Isabella asked.

"All we can do for now is to keep reading up on things. There are clues in these journals, we just need to find them and decipher them. And plan our wedding."

"And plan our wedding," Isabella said with a smile.

For the next few days they poured over their journals, learning a lot in the process. Isabella discovered an entire journal of different powers witches could have. There were pages and pages about witches who commanded control over the weather, animals, and all other sorts of things. There were healers and potion makers. Stronger still, were witches who could will things into being with their minds and words.

Isabella stared at the words, realizing it was possible she'd done that without ever knowing it.

Her musings were interrupted by a knock at the door, and a guard carrying a small chest followed by Alice.

"My dear Isabella, how is everything going?"

"I'm doing well, Alice. You look as though you've been busy," she gestured to the chest.

"Yes, well, planning your wedding has been a wonderful distraction so I don't begin to plan for the future prince or princess too soon. Jasper is very grateful for that, because it means he can sleep through the night."

Isabella was happy to hear the wedding would be going off without a hitch in two days' time, and just two days before her birthday. But there was another thing weighing on her mind, and she needed to ask Alice about it.

"Did my father make it off all right?"

"Yes, and he will be safer abroad," Alice responded.

"What does that mean?" Isabella asked, nervous.

Alice sighed and closed the chest. "It means that not all the legends are true, but some of them may still be lurking out there. Mermaids were just dolphins swimming along the shore and unicorns were never more than horses adorned with finery. But Faeries, witches, and elves are very real."

A knock from the guard waiting outside signaled an end to their visit. "We should arrive at the palace the morning of the wedding, correct?"

"Yes, an evening wedding and then you can return home for a quiet celebration that will include your birthday."

Isabella walked Alice to the door, and returned to her journals.

That night, Isabella's dreams grew ominous, but as she had no particular reason to worry, she didn't want to worry Edward. Especially if he might perceive it as wedding jitters.

The following day they stayed close to home, packing what was necessary for their trip to the castle for the wedding. Over dinner, Edward broached a subject he seemed anxious about.

"When we return from the palace after our wedding, I'd like to spend some time at my parents' home. Just during the day while I'm trying to learn more about what being a faerie actually is. I think being close to where they lived might help."

Isabella smiled at her husband's rushed words. "I think that would be a good idea. I'll be studying my own journals in between seeing patients, so a quiet place for you to focus would be nice."

"Thank you," he whispered.

"Edward, you don't need to be worried about asking for something for yourself. Just because in this new mystical world we find ourselves born into you're my protector, it doesn't mean that's all you are. You can be a man with a career and protect me from whatever it is that may or may not resurface in our lifetimes. It took five hundred years for you to reawaken, we may simply be the first generation of many more to follow."

"I like that idea."

Edward and Isabella cleaned up and checked on Argus, who was content in his hutch before they retired for the night. Edward's grip on Isabella was tight, and that anchoring feeling of his protective arm was exactly what she needed to sleep.

The morning of the eleventh of September dawned with a bright blue, nearly cloudless sky. The couple worked together to quickly close up the house and pack the carriage. Argus was secured in his crate and ready for the journey to the castle.

It was a longer than normal journey because they were stopped by well wishers along the way. Rosalie sent a knowing wink to Isabella and she knew that meant Alice had secured the dress she'd admired when shopping for the ball.

Their arrival at the palace was heralded and as soon as they descended the carriage, they were whisked in separate directions.

Isabella wasn't shocked when she was led into a room by servants where a tub was waiting. Over the next several hours she was cleaned, polished, and pampered the way a bride was prior to her wedding. When it was time for her to dress, Alice arrived, her dream dress in hand.

"Ladies, we have a bride to prepare," Alice announced.

The maids worked with the queen to braid and twist her hair into a bun that sat at the base of her neck, little flowers tucked into the strands. Her face was done in light makeup, in colors that would catch the moonlight outside.

Finally, the dress was fastened and her veil was slid into place. She caught sight of herself in the mirror, the white dress with the lacy floral overlay that flowed behind her into a short train. She looked like a bride. She was ready to be Edward's bride.

"I think there's a man waiting for you in my private garden," Alice told her. "Let's go make a wife out of you."