She’d just gone sentimental.
Hoping.
Caring.
Worrying.
And now being sentimental.
She shivered in revulsion.
Another shiver of revulsion followed at the very thought that she’d have to give up magical meddling and do something a mundane human would need to do in this situation when magic was not an option.
Fix the two of them up.
How revolting.
“It would seem you’re holding an entire conversation to which I’m not privy since you’re having it silently with yourself,” Circe observed.
At this, Valentine stood, dropping the cat gracefully to her feet as she did.
“Franka has decided to come to our world to start her life anew,” she declared, and went on further, sharing about Franka’s growing connection with Noc and the friendships she was making in the other world.
Circe looked astonished and moved to her couch, seating herself on the arm, her cat slinking elegantly to her momma, jumping on the seat and rubbing against Circe’s thigh.
“This surprises me,” Circe stated.
“I see that. I have, of course, shared with you all that has occurred and the knowledge she’s our sister. Thus this decision pleases me. She’s also decided to accept my training. Unlike you,” Valentine stressed, “it seems she has no qualms with using her magic for enjoyable purposes once she learns to wield it.”
“I’ve had my magic manipulated nearly all my life, Valentine,” Circe reminded her. “I like it to be my own, to use it when I will, how I will.”
“That’s understandable,” Valentine murmured, annoyed to have to concede that point.
“I’m pleased she’s made this decision too,” Circe said. “This is an odd realm, but it’s a good one to make a new start. Very easy to get lost in the sheer numbers of people, and because of this you can focus on the person you wish to be.”
“There are nearly the same numbers in both worlds,” Valentine reminded her. “With scant variation.”
“I’ve assessed that my old world has nearly twice the land mass as this one, which allows much more space for people to spread out,” Circe returned.
Valentine knew this to be true.
She didn’t concede that point.
She stated, “She’s awaiting her sister-in-law’s safe delivery of a new child. I cannot assess when this will be, but calling up the woman and the little she’s showing, my assumption would be that this will happen in five to six months’ time.”
“I will welcome her and assist her in any way whenever she arrives, my sister.”
“That’s good to hear,” Valentine replied.
“This is not why you’re watching me.”
Valentine tilted her head. “Do you think for even a second I do it for malicious reasons?”
Circe grinned. “I think you think you’re quite wicked when you have a soul of emerald but a heart of pure gold.” When Valentine opened her mouth to object to that ridiculousness, Circe lifted a hand, kept grinning and continued speaking. “Don’t deny it. Actions speak louder than words, my green witch, and with all of yours, you could talk, as they say in this world, until you’re blue in the face, or green,” her grin got bigger, “and I wouldn’t believe you.”
Valentine lifted her hands, declaring, “I feel this visit is at an end.”
Before she could conjure her magic, Circe spoke on.
Gently.
“I’m happy, my sister, please know that with whatever your golden heart is speaking to you to do.”
Valentine halted her spell that would spirit her back to the other world and regarded the witch closely.
Then she stated, “You will be happier.”
And at that juncture, before Circe could open her mouth to speak, Valentine finished casting her spell and disappeared.
* * * * *
When the hour had struck midnight in Lunwyn, Valentine appeared at the appointed place seeing a sleigh close by, four horses hitched to it, blankets covering the steeds’ coats to protect them in the cold, her two compatriots already there and waiting.
As she’d asked, Lavinia had brought their charge.
The witches had decided to perform Franka’s ceremony close to an adela tree. It was just a sapling, but its power could still be felt and its place in this world for anyone with magic was sacred.
Franka stood beside the adela sapling wearing a glorious cloak of Prussian-blue fine wool lined with ermine, her hands encased in blue kid gloves, no cap on her head to cover her glorious hair that had a healthy sheen, even in the moonlight.
And there was no anxiety in her eyes. Her shoulders were straight, her chin up.
Valentine sensed no fear from her.
She also sensed no excitement.
This would change.
“Are you ready, my sister-witch?” Valentine asked, moving through the snow toward her, her own green cloak lined with red fox keeping her warm.
“Of course,” Franka replied.
Valentine stopped close and cast her gaze to Lavinia, who was moving to them. She waited for her fellow witch to arrive and catch her eyes.
When she did, Valentine nodded to her.
Lavinia returned this gesture.
They both looked to Franka.
“Take my hand in one of yours, Lavinia’s in the other,” she ordered.
Without hesitation, Franka did as told.
Valentine felt her power through her touch and realized, even if she’d already sensed it was substantial, she’d been in error at just how substantial it was.
This power Franka Drakkar held had not simply fed on itself and grown over the years with no use.