I sniffed and pulled my hand from hers, declaring, “Certainly not.”
She grinned.
I curled my lips up at her and then stated, “I’m hungry, Josette.”
“Of course,” she replied, jumping off the bed.
“Josette?” I called, and she stopped her dash to the door and turned to me. “Tell them to prepare a tray for you as well. I wish to share breakfast with you this morning, and every morning I take it in bed in future. When you bring mine up, ask one of the other servants to bring up yours.”
Her eyes grew very large. “But…Franka, I…they’ll…this will be quite shocking to the palace staff.”
“And I care about this because…?”
This did not grant me a grin but instead a wide, bright smile.
“I’ll be back,” she declared.
“I’ll be here.”
The door closed behind her.
I looked to my lap.
“Finally,” I murmured. “It’s all sorted.”
I drew in a breath and lifted my head to let it out.
And then it was me whose mouth spread into a wide, bright smile.
Chapter Eleven
Wired
Valentine
Valentine was sitting, her legs crossed, in the darkened apartment, Circe’s cat in her lap, a long-haired ginger with intelligent eyes (as all cats were considering they were spirit creatures and had long since been smart enough to allow themselves to be the familiars of witches).
She’d timed it precisely.
Enough time had passed where she remained aggravated.
Not enough time had passed where she could get exasperated.
She wasn’t angry any longer. This, she found, her lovely companion had the power to curb by performing so beautifully and being quite capable of giving as well as receiving.
For this, Circe was lucky.
She was also lucky that Valentine heard the lock click and the door open before Valentine had to wait any longer.
“Really? You sit in the dark waiting for me?” Circe asked.
This greeting was not a surprise. Valentine knew better than to think she could sneak up on a witch.
“You’re blocking me.” Valentine found herself in the annoying position of wasting energy to share something that didn’t need to be said.
The door closed, a switch was flipped and several of the lamps in the relatively-attractive-but-sparsely-furnished room illuminated.
Really, Circe should use some of her treasure, something Valentine had noted she hadn’t touched, simply to decorate.
But the witch could actually purchase a home, if she so desired, one that provided far superior accommodation than…this.
Valentine did not declare these thoughts aloud.
She watched Circe toss her purse into a chair and then cross her arms, leveling her eyes on her sister-witch.
“You’re doing something that needs to be blocked,” she finally replied.
“I’m simply looking after you, chérie,” Valentine lied.
“I’ve been in this world for some time, Valentine, I hardly need looking after.”
Valentine lazily flipped out a hand as she suggested, “Why don’t we look at it as a mother bear taking care of her cub?”
“Please, no offense, my sister, but we both know you are no mother. And you bear no responsibility for me. I brought myself to this world and it was my decision to stay. You had nothing to do with any of that.”
At Circe’s mention of Valentine and “mother” in the same sentence, strangely, disturbingly, and lastly, pleasantly, visions of little girls with lovely blue eyes and thick blonde hair danced in Valentine’s head.
Her trifle, who somehow she’d allowed to turn into her companion, had lovely blue eyes and thick blond hair.
He’d once been simply a body.
Now he was…
Not.
Merde.
“And we both know with my magic restored, especially having that and being in this world where it isn’t often wielded, I need no one taking care of me,” Circe continued.
“Is there something you don’t wish me to see?” Valentine asked, forcing her mind from her thoughts back to their conversation.
“I simply don’t wish the intrusion, and I have that right, as you know.”
She did.
Bother.
“Though, I might be moved to stop blocking you if I knew why you were suddenly watching me,” Circe went on with her own lie.
No witch, or non-witch for that matter, liked someone interfering in their lives.
Certainly not observing them.
It would not do to tell her she was watching in order to start meddling, doing this to magically maneuver a meeting with the future love Circe was destined to have, her aim to see them married, creating children, doing such enjoyably and living happily ever after.
Circe was fiercely independent, something of which Valentine approved, though the reasons life had given her to make her bent on protecting this trait at all costs was something Valentine despised.
A history where she had nothing like it. No independence. Not even free will.
Nearly her entire life she’d lived imprisoned and enslaved by a despotic ruler who took advantage of a beautiful young witch and her powers in every way he could.
Goddess, she hoped this world’s Dax Lahn could handle such a challenge.
Valentine’s mind wandered to the fact that, interestingly, his first name was Dax in this world, Lahn his last, proof the Dax in the other world would hold his kingly title as prophesied until he passed it to his son on his death.
This meant the Circe and Dax of this world would likely name their son the same.
Lovely.
“Valentine?” Circe called and Valentine focused on her again, feeling her frame slightly tighten.