“What are the other options for her magic?” Franka asked.
Although she admired the trait, at this moment Valentine found Franka’s stubbornness frustrating.
“I could expel it into the earth,” Valentine answered. “Close to an adela tree, which would assist all of them across Lunwyn in growing.”
“As the adela were nearly made extinct during the war, they hold great beauty and provide the same when their power is used, and they take decades to grow, I think that’s the better option, don’t you?”
“Although it would hasten growth, it would not shave decades off, but only perhaps a few months,” Valentine replied.
“A few months are just that and that’s something.”
Valentine was not pleased with how this conversation was going.
It was time to take another course with the willful witch.
With that in mind, abruptly, she declared, “In my world, when you are with me there, I not only wish to train you to use your magic, but I wish for you to join me as I perform the services I perform for my clients in order to eventually take on your own.” She leaned closer to her witch-sister. “I can assure you, the intrigues in which I’m enlisted are often quite delicious.”
Finally, she’d caught Franka’s attention.
“Indeed?” she asked.
“Indeed,” Valentine said as she sat back. “In fact, I have some meddling I intend to do. And it would assist me greatly if I had a partner.”
Franka made no reply, she simply continued studying Valentine.
“I would like you in my world. I think it would suit you. I think you’d blossom there. And I hope you’ll also blossom under my tutelage,” Valentine coaxed.
“That decision has been made, as I’ve shared,” Franka reminded her. “I’ll be journeying to your world.”
“It has, I’m talking about your magic and you absorbing your mother’s.”
Franka started to shake her head but Valentine spoke again.
“You are aware there are twins of nearly everyone in both worlds.”
“Yes,” Franka affirmed.
“And Dax Lahn’s twin lives in New Orleans.”
Valentine was satisfied to see a slight widening of Franka’s eyes and a definite look of heightened attentiveness in them.
“As does this world’s Circe, of course,” Valentine carried on.
“My,” Franka whispered, her sister-witch far from dim, Valentine had to explain no further.
Instead, she shared, “I’ve paid some attention to him. I’ve decided they’ll suit.”
It took a moment but after that moment Franka’s lips curled in a way Valentine found very familiar for she’d felt that same curve on her own lips many a time.
“My,” she repeated.
“It may take some time, it’s important for you to be comfortable in your magic, but do you fancy some meddling?” Valentine invited.
Franka took another moment and this one was longer.
Valentine waited.
It was worth the wait when she received her answer.
“Absolutely.”
* * * * *
Franka
“I would like for you to put that down and come here,” I said to the child.
My nephew looked up at me but did not do as I said.
Instead, he put what he was holding right in his mouth.
“I’ll repeat,” I carried on speaking to the child, “Please put that down and come here.”
Timofei just stared at me.
Then he let out a giggle that made the precarious purchase of steadiness he had on his own two feet disappear. He wobbled, fell, and the bangle Josette had given him to attract his attention from his parents leaving him with me (this being right before Josette left him completely alone with me) flew from his hand only to roll on its thin side under a couch.
I sighed.
Timofei adjusted himself so he was on his nappy-covered bottom, looked where the bangle had disappeared, looked to me, his face started to crumple, and I knew what was coming.
Thus I stood swiftly and stated commandingly, “Do not even consider weeping.”
He blinked up at me.
I bent with only a small pang of pain, experiencing another one as I picked up the toddler who was barely a year and a half old but who was also a very big boy (he would grow straight and tall, like his father, I was certain) and planted him so one of his legs was hitched on my hip, the rest of him was wrapped around my belly.
“There will be many times to weep in life, child,” I declared as if I was a tutor giving a lesson to her pupil, one that was much older than the one who was staring up at me with wide eyes that looked like mine, and wet, rosy lips that were more endearing than I cared to admit. “I can assure you, a lost bangle is not one of those times.”
He slapped my chest and I decided to take that as his agreement to my declaration.
“Quite right,” I stated, and moved with him, instinctively bouncing him on my hip.
I took him to the mantel, pointed at a rather unattractive, but I knew nearly priceless, objet d’art resting there and instructed, “If this were to break, no weeping.”
For some reason he was smiling up at me now so I bounced him higher and that produced another giggle.
Odd.
Oh well.
I pointed to his chest and pressed in, saying in a softer voice, “Now, if this were to break, you should weep. And don’t let anyone tell you differently. I don’t care if you’re male. A broken heart deserves tears. In truth, I do believe it’s the only way to mend it.”
“Think you’re right, sugarlips.”