**3rd Person POV**
Regina looked at her cousin and smiled. She was glad Emily was finally doing something for herself but she still had a question for her cousin.
“I'm happy for you, Em. You deserve this,” said Regina.
“Thank you.”
“Can I ask you something?” asked Regina. She did not want to put a damper on the mood but she needed to know if Emily knew about Irvette. Her conscience would not let her be until she was certain Emily had nothing to do with Irvette's kidnap.
“Your Majesty…” a guard interrupted them before Emily could give an answer to Regina.
“Lady Tristan…” the two of them exchanged brief eye contact and without waiting for the guard to finish his message they rushed to Lady Tristan's room. They met her in front of her room; she had slumped right in front of her door. They did not have to be physicians to know that she had given up the ghost.
Emily bent down and shut Lady Tristan's eyes that seemed to be staring directly at Regina.
****
“When I was little I used to think, great grandma would live forever,” Charlotte's voice was heavy with sadness. Lady Tristan had lived out her years still it was sorrowful to know that she was no longer with them. The twins had loved her a lot and were very fond of her. It was a painful loss for them.
Harlin felt sorry for his friends. Watching them grieve saddened him especially because he knew it could be his turn soon. He knew that if there was no cure for Aunt Irene she had a few days left. He did not want to imagine his world without Aunt Irene in it; he just couldn't do it.
“Yeah, she was so old even then and she somehow managed to prove that she was stronger than us,” commented Reginald with a faint smile on his lip as a warm memory of his great-grandmother came to mind.
“She could ride a horse better than any of us,” replied Charlotte.
The three friends stood over Lady Tristan's open casket. Harlin decided that there could be no open casket for his aunt Irene. He would not be able to stand anyone looking at her; scrutinising what was left of her body after her illness. If things came to worse, he would have his time with her privately and subject everyone else to admire the wooden casket.
“Why do people wear black at funerals?” Charlotte liked to ask random questions at the most peculiar times.
Reginald looked at his sister wondering what had made her ask the question but he was quickly distracted by Lady Lowell standing in a corner all by herself. In spite of the heaviness of his heart, his thoughts shifted from all the good times he had with his great grandmother and he started thinking of a possible future that involved Lady Lowell.
“Why do we only remember the good times at funerals? Have you ever heard people say sad things at funerals about the dead?” asked Harlin; he was feeling particularly peculiar himself. The thought had crossed his mind, he knew it had not been all roses with Aunt Irene but as the thought of her death filled his mind he could not recall a singular incident where she was a villain to him.
“Reginald? Are you okay?” asked Charlotte worried about her brother whose thoughts seemed far away. However, if she had just looked back she would have understood the reason for her brother's faraway look.
“I'm okay,” replied Reginald forcing his mind back to Lady Tristan.
“We should go sit down or something,” suggested Harlin and the two agreed. They had been standing over Lady Tristan for an almost unhealthy amount of time.
Charlotte slowed her steps so she could walk with Harlin, Reginald seemed to be once more in a world of his own so he did not notice the separation.
“Your hand is all better,” she commented looking at his hand where just two days ago she had helped apply salve on it.
“Oh, yes, yes,” he said with a smile. He examined his hand and it felt uncanny that there was not a single trace of the burn wound left. He had managed to go the entire time without Lady Alison finding out about the burn. He had wanted to go see Irene again in hopes that she would tell him something more but a letter had arrived informing them of Lady Tristan's death and so he had never had the chance to return to her side. It was probably too late now. After Lady Tristan's funeral, he was going to be going to the Kingdom of Dome. His aunt had even had his entourage follow him so they would go with him to Dome.
“Don't worry, I didn't tell a soul,” returned Charlotte in a low voice. Harlin flashed a smile at her that showed his gratitude. Although somehow Reginald had managed to catch that last part and he turned noticing that the two were walking slower than he was, “You didn't tell a soul what?”
“That you're an idiot, silly,” returned Charlotte making a face.
Reginald let it go and Harlin gave Charlotte a look of gratitude.
They found a bench to sit on and collapsed gratefully into it. The three of them sat in silence, staring into nothingness.
“I remember one bad thing Lady Tristan did,” said Reginald.
“You think it's okay to say bad things about the dead?” quipped Charlotte.
“What's she going to do? Punish us?” returned Reginald and the three of them laughed.
“It was when Harlin came to visit, remember? I saw her…” but Charlotte would not allow her brother to finish what he was saying, “take him up from his cot and kiss him goodnight? You're such a loser. Even dead, she scares you.”
Charlotte eyed her brother; she could not believe he was going to say it.