Not to mention, I had on my mind the fact that the three homes Valentine’s agent had shown us the day before were not to my, Josette’s, or even Noc’s liking, something, in our depth of discussion of each we’d had over dinner the evening before, had become clear.
We had another “showing” that day and my mind was also on that, as I was finding more with each passing day the need to settle, not only myself but Josette.
Valentine had no opinion on the houses we’d seen since she was not there to view them with us.
In fact, I had not seen her since she introduced Josette and me to the wonders of the curling iron. Our only communication was through texts, notes she left and messages delivered to us by her secretary or the man who was her caretaker.
This irked me, greatly, and the longer it lasted the more irksome it became.
Yes, one could say that our time had been full since our arrival so our need of Valentine’s presence was not great. There was much to do, see and experience, and Noc was being lovely with offering us all of that.
This included his promise of taking Josette and me to Bourbon Street the evening before last, a place I knew was where I’d been spirited to upon entering this world due to the familiarity of its noise, but mostly its smell.
“Spilled booze, puke and bodies, baby, all baked in the sun,” Noc had explained the smell. “In other words, the aroma of a really fuckin’ good time.”
I did not agree.
That was I did not agree until he introduced Josette and I to hurricanes, which were delicious, and jazz, a music that was extraordinary.
Halfway through hurricane one, we’d commenced having great fun and met the many fast friends around us who were a delight (and who I would not then remember even if they walked up to me and offered me an embrace, such was the potency of hurricanes, something which Noc told us to stop partaking of at one, and Josette and I had each had three).
Through this experience I was realizing that my preference for my own world was partly my loyalty to it as well as my familiarity of it.
Fleuridia was much different than Hawkvale, which was much different than Lunwyn.
But they all were marvelous, in their own way.
As was this world, it’s liveliness, fast pace, music, food.
I simply had to open my mind to it.
And being on Bourbon Street there was no way you could keep your mind closed. You became one with the mood, that mood being revelry and frivolity, and were swept away by it. And one could most assuredly say being swept away with revelry and frivolity was a joyous thing.
But even if we had not liked what we had seen during the house showings we’d had, Josette and I would eventually find a home and then we would need to settle into the new lives we’d chosen. It couldn’t all be shopping, eating and frivolity.
It could, of course. We were wealthy enough to have this. But then it might become boring, and when frivolity became boring, what did you do after that?
So settling into the lives we’d chosen it was.
And for me to do this required Valentine.
Not to mention, we had plans for Circe and the Dax Lahn of this world and there had been no time to waste…now there was even less.
It was on that thought I sensed someone in the hall. I turned in my chair and saw Valentine walk past the doorway.
“Sister,” I called.
It was unlikely she didn’t hear me but there was a moment when I thought I would have to rise from my chair and follow her before she finally retraced her steps and filled the doorframe.
“Franka,” she greeted.
I sensed immediately all was not well.
This was not by look.
It was by feel.
I stood, examining her closely. “Are you well?”
Valentine walked but a foot into the room and lied, “I am.”
“We’ve not seen much of you,” I noted carefully.
“I’d been spending a good deal of time in your world,” she stated. “This means there’s a good deal to see to now that I’ve returned to my own.”
A likely explanation.
But not a truthful one.
Before I could ask after it, her eyes dropped to my crystal and came back to me.
“You practice?”
I shook my head. “I’m searching for Frey.”
She nodded. “Of course. You’re curious, as you would be. The child is born. A girl. They’ve named her Aurora Eugenie.”
I blinked at the brusque delivery of this important news.
“Frey and Finnie’s child has been born?”
“Yes. As has Circe and Lahn’s. A boy. They’ve named him Ashur. An odd choice, being of our world, but ancient, the Assyrian god of war. But perhaps it will become a prophetic one.” She offered me no opportunity to make comment, she carried on, “Tor and Cora have not yet been delivered of their joy but it could be any day now. And as you know, Apollo and Madeleine have had their Valentine.”
I could not believe what I was hearing.
“I knew no such thing,” I shared.
Her head twitched, but she replied simply, “Well, they have.”
“When did all this news come?” I asked.
“Circe and Lahn, just yesterday. Finnie and Frey, I found out later that it was occurring as I was spiriting you to this world. I’m afraid I was lax in keeping track of Madeleine but discovered that wonderful news prior to your departure from your world. I’m afraid I was also lax in sharing it.”
She was lax indeed!
“Did you not think we would wish to hear this news?” I queried, tamping down my annoyance due to her queer demeanor.
“You’re hearing it now.”