“Will that get rid of it?” The woman leaned forward.
“Possibly. If not, you will become gravely ill, and your children will have to nurse you. Whether you will survive or not will depend on their care.” Amaia saw the light in the other woman’s eyes dim.
“I will die then.” The woman slumped, resigned to her fate.
“No, I told you it will not kill you. Your children will rally around you, and you will be saved. I see it.”
The woman brightened. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Now if you have another question, it will be another coin.” Amaia pulled back. She had given the woman what she wanted. She could return home and complain that her children were killing her, and when she didn’t die from the mysterious wart, she would feel in her heart that her children loved her. If she did die, then she wouldn’t be around to care.
The old woman left, and another customer took her place, this time a young girl, no doubt wanting to inquire about whether she would end up happily married to whichever handsome boy she had spotted.
“Coin.” Amaia nodded to the table, and the girl paid. “What is your question?” Amaia reached across the table and held the girl’s hands.
“I—” Amaia didn’t hear the rest. A dramatic twisting in the energy that always lurked in the background arrested her attention. Michael’s energy surged to the forefront of her consciousness. Something painful was happening. The intensity of his energy shocked her into stillness.
Then, as quickly as it had begun, it was gone.
Completely gone.
Amaia stood—the girl, the money, all forgotten. She went outside and looked down one street and then the next, as if she had simply misplaced Michael’s energy and would find it. The streets of Paris teemed with thousands of energies, but none of them were Michael’s. She made her way out of the city and ran in the direction from which the disturbance had come. At any moment, she expected to feel it again, but there was nothing.
The shadows lengthened, and Amaia made her way home. Back in her room, she lounged on the couch and gave a little giggle. It was gone. His ghost no longer stalked her. She set about getting dressed, steadfastly ignoring the little loss she felt inside.
Chapter 12
Paris, October 1648, 8 months later
Cardinal Mazarin’s jewel collection impressed even Amaia. She had been to the Royal Palace on many occasions, but this was the first time she had ever seen the famed collection. Today’s party celebrated Mazarin’s work in negotiating the peace treaties signed earlier in the month. That was the official reason. It was really an attempt to distract and calm the nobles after a summer of troubled relations between the parliament and the royals. The dowager queen had convinced Mazarin, as the guest of honor, to allow his jewels to be displayed.
“Please tell me Zenas has something to do with this. It doesn’t seem right for mortals to be able to accumulate this much wealth.”
Lawrence chuckled through their bond. “Let’s just say this wealth wasn’t made without a little help from our kind.” Cryptic as always when it came to Zenas. Lawrence liked to distance her as much from possible from his sire. “How are things with the young count?”
Amaia glanced at the man on her arm. “I think his eyes might fall out of his head.”
“Let’s hope not. It would make the night extremely awkward. Try to have a good time.”
The count she escorted had paid a handsome sum for the pleasure of her company and even provided her with a gown and jewels. It was no secret that she was as much of an accessory as the wig and rings he wore. An even more impressive one: she certainly cost more.
“Your Eminence, it is a pleasure to see you. I trust you know Mademoiselle Christine?” The count knew very well that Amaia and the cardinal were well acquainted. It was one of the reasons he’d reserved her for the evening even before the invitations were delivered.
“Of course. She puts these jewels of mine to shame.” Mazarin kissed her hand and eyed her knowingly.
“You flatter me, Your Eminence. You must be proud of such a collection. Though I daresay it pales in comparison to your achievements in bringing peace. You’ll have to tell us sometime how you manage it all at once.” Amaia flashed him the large smile she knew he liked.
“I’d be thrilled to tell you my secrets, Christine. Perhaps some other time, in a more intimate setting.”
Amaia demurely curtsied, and the count whisked her away to speak to some of the other attendees.
After acquiring some wine, the count presented Amaia to a group of nobles. “It is my pleasure to present Mademoiselle Christine.”
Amaia curtsied.
“Of course. I know Mademoiselle Christine quite well. You’re a lucky man to possess her for the evening.” A marquis nodded to Amaia.