A gleaming smile spread on her face even as she shook her head. “I actually hope we find Mar-el.”
Mar-el, an island nation that was said to be heavily guarded, for reasons that were an even more heavily-guarded secret. An island nation where it was also said its citizens, who were deliciously dark of skin, actually spent the vast majority of their time on magnificent galleons wreaking havoc on the seas.
“Hmm,” I murmured. “I’d not considered that.” I tipped my head to the side. “We’ll have to put that on our agenda.”
“That’d be marvelous,” she breathed, her excitement visibly escalating.
I nodded, actually fighting back an indulgent smile.
Winning that, I beat back rolling my eyes…at myself.
“Indeed,” I murmured in a way I hoped she knew she was dismissed, but kindly.
Gods.
Perhaps I should allow Noc to call me the revolting Frannie and ask everyone else to do the same for it would seem I was Franka Drakkar no more.
“I’ll just see to sorting everything for the night,” Josette said.
“Thank you, Josette,” I replied, reaching for my book.
“No.”
At her peculiar response, I turned my attention back to my maid.
“Pardon?” I queried.
“No,” she said softly. “Thank you, Lady Franka. Thank you bunches.”
This put me in the awkward and unpleasant position of feeling emotion swelling up the back of my throat.
Fortunately, Josette was very good at her job.
So before I embarrassed myself (further), she turned on her slipper and scurried to the dressing room.
I looked down at my book but didn’t open it.
Josette was accompanying me across the Green Sea.
I allowed my lips to curl up minutely.
Marvelous.
Chapter Six
I Smiled. Huge.
Valentine
Valentine Rousseau’s eyes opened and she stared at the dark ceiling.
Then she slid out of bed, leaving the young, slumbering, firm, naked male form in it.
Bending gracefully, her red-tipped fingers tagged the slip of green silk and lace off the floor. She pulled it over her head and the soft material slithered down her body.
She moved out of her bedroom, down the hall and to the room with the salmon-colored walls.
She did not bother herself with turning on a light. She knew every inch of the room, her house, for not only did she live in it, she’d been born to it.
She glided through the dark to stand at the small, round table on which the large, clear, smooth, crystal sphere sat on top of a bed of emerald-green velvet.
The tips of her fingers skimmed the ball and instantly a wisp of jade smoke curled inside the crystal.
She stared at its glow through the dark and felt her mouth get soft.
Just as she thought.
What she didn’t understand was why she cared. Cared so much it woke her.
On this thought, her mouth grew hard.
“Annoying,” she murmured as the smoke twisted, coiled and curved.
Valentine took in a delicate, displeased breath.
For years, she cared about very little. In fact, nothing.
But herself.
Then came her little goddess of love, Seoafin, Finnie.
Now, caring seemed to be all she did.
And not just about herself.
In fact, all the troubles were sorted in that other world, but was she quit of it?
No.
She was not only not quit of it, she was home in New Orleans and still checking in frequently to see how things progressed with not only Franka and Noctorno, but Seoafin and Frey, Circe and Lahn…
All of them.
This going so far as to wake her in the night so she’d seek her crystal just to make certain all was well.
She cared, there was no denying it.
This didn’t mean she didn’t lament doing just that.
Valentine studied the smoke, sighed and watched Noc laughing and Franka glowering as they sat together in Franka’s chamber.
It was no surprise he’d made little headway. Not only Franka’s history would inhibit things moving forward, she’d lost a lover in a dramatically sad way.
There were many wounds Franka Drakkar needed healed but only some of them Noc could assist in this effort.
The loss of her lover she’d have to come to terms with on her own.
Suddenly, Valentine tipped her head to the side as she felt it. Within seconds, the room turned green. Not Valentine’s green, which shaded emerald to jade. No, Lavinia’s green. The green of Lavinia’s goddess of the other world, Alabasta, which was the color of a fertile meadow.
Every witch with any amount of power had their own color.
It represented their soul.
Thus Lavinia’s was fresh and nurturing.
And Valentine’s was rich and precious.
Valentine directed her eyes to the vortex forming and watched Lavinia appear.
“My friend,” Lavinia greeted when her feet were planted on Valentine’s priceless Persian rug.
“It’s late,” Valentine replied.
Lavinia, accustomed to Valentine, took no offense at her reply and smiled but looked to the sphere on the table.
Her eyes moved back to Valentine.
“The knight of your world is making progress,” she noted.
Valentine swept a hand to her crystal ball.
“This, I’ve noticed,” she drawled.
Lavinia nodded. “What you may not have noticed is that her mother’s magic was revealed, but Franka’s was not. We both felt the swell of it that terrible night some days ago, but she has not come forward as a witch. No one else is aware of it, save perhaps Noctorno. This concerns me.”
“She’s coping with a good deal, Lavinia, perhaps you’ll give her more than a few days,” Valentine suggested.