The Seer

by Kirsten Jones

  ‘No, Mistral, I am not afraid of Melsina De’ath. But, I do admit to having an ulterior motive for bringing you here.’

  ‘Which is something you’re deliberately not thinking about! Tell me what it is Fabian!’

  ‘It is going to make itself apparent very soon,’ he smiled enigmatically just as the door opened to reveal the flawless features of the twins’ mother.

  ‘Mistral, darling you are positively blooming! But where are my manners! Come in! Mage De Winter! It is so wonderful to see you again!’ Melsina gushed, stepping back to invite them into her pristine home.

  A Most Formal Affair

  ‘I may not forgive you for this.’ Mistral breathed to Fabian as she stepped onto the thick white carpet in the entrance hall.

  ‘Now! I think that cook has just served a small tea in the dining room for you Mage De Winter.’ Melsina smiled and gestured to one of the many pristinely white rooms leading off from the entrance hall.

  ‘That sounds good.’ Mistral began only to be hauled away by Melsina, her tinkling laugh completely at odds with the iron strength with which she gripped Mistral’s hand. Recognising the direction they were taking Mistral began to panic. ‘Er, I think all I really need is a rest actually –’

  ‘Oh, and you shall get one! An hour or two of pampering is equal to a good night’s sleep anytime, don’t you agree?’

  ‘Um, no, not really.’ Mistral argued back, only to be completely ignored.

  ‘Ah, here we are! The guest suite!’ Melsina flung open the door to the very same sumptuous white bathroom Mistral had been in the year before and promptly dragged her inside. ‘So, I see that you like the clothes I instructed Eudora to run up for you!’ she commented in a smug tone and immediately began to pull the soft brushed cotton shirt over Mistral’s head.

  ‘Er, they fit.’ Mistral said in what she hoped was a positive voice.

  ‘Oh I know!’ Melsina agreed, pausing in her actions to give Mistral an understanding look. ‘Imagine how I felt carrying twins! A tent would have been appropriate clothing!’

  She gave another tinkling laugh and Mistral nodded disbelievingly, somehow not imaging Melsina to have been anything but immaculately presented throughout the entire duration of her pregnancy. In fact, she bet that the twins hadn’t even dare move, never mind kick her the way her son did.

  ‘Now, a nice soak for you while I find something appropriate for tonight’s gala –’

  ‘Tonight’s what?’ Mistral said sharply only to hear the soft click of a closing door. Sighing and resolving severe violent retribution on both the scheming twins and her husband, she sank ungratefully into a huge bath filled with lavender scented water.

  The heat of the water and the heady aroma of lavender soon made Mistral sleepy. She slid in and out of a dreamy doze, enjoying the brief respite before Melsina returned to boss her around again. Trailing a hand lazily through the steamy water she suddenly wished that Fabian was with her and the door was locked –

  ‘There’s nothing quite so purifying as a hot bath is there?’

  Startled out of thoughts that had been far from pure, Mistral looked up guiltily to see Melsina gazing at her with the familiar enquiring green gaze she was used to receiving in duplicate from the twins.

  ‘Feeling more relaxed?’

  ‘Yes, thanks.’ Mistral replied obediently.

  ‘Out you come then – but slowly! We don’t want you passing out!’

  Mistral suppressed the urge to roll her eyes and hauled her ungainly body from the water, closing her eyes and forcing herself to think calm thoughts while she submitted to Melsina briskly towelling her dry and rubbing perfumed lotion over her.

  ‘What’s a gala?’ Mistral asked when she thought that the worst of the assault was over.

  ‘A gala?’ Melsina met her look with wide-eyed astonishment. ‘You don’t know about tonight’s gala?’

  ‘Er, no –’ Or I would have run a mile …

  Melsina let out a peal of laughter, ‘Oh, I can see why he didn’t tell you!’

  Mistral clenched teeth, ‘Tell me what?’

  ‘Well,’ said Melsina, her eyes glittering with excitement. ‘Leopold has been invited to present his case tonight to coincide with the annual gala of Council and Foreign officials.’

  Mistral looked at her blankly but was reluctant to read her thoughts. Melsina was scary enough from the outside.

  ‘Oh Mistral!’ Melsina exclaimed with another peal of laugher. ‘You are so delightfully naive! Tonight is the biggest event in the Council’s social calendar! There will be delegates from across the world there! You will be there not just as the Ri’s Seer, but as Lady De Winter! You must shine!’

  ‘I must what?’

  ‘Shine. And so you will!’

  Melsina’s eyes gleamed with an intent that Mistral immediately associated with the look in a snake’s eyes the second before it struck, ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a bit unshineworthy at the moment,’ she muttered caustically and waved a hand towards her thick waist.

  ‘My darling! Pregnancy becomes you!’ Melsina almost sang. ‘You are glowing! And I have had just the gown made to accentuate your new curves –’

  ‘My curves don’t need accentuating! They need covering!’

  Melsina heaved a sigh and shook her perfectly coiffed head, ‘Absolutely not, however ... I think that I will simply show you rather than waste time arguing with you –’ She tilted her head on one side to scrutinise Mistral with an intensity that made her feel acutely embarrassed. ‘Hmm, those scars … such a shame –’

  For the second time in her life Mistral closed her eyes and blessed every single raised bump and jagged mark on her body.

  ‘– but that wonderful cleavage!’

  ‘What?’ Mistral’s frightened squeak was lost on Melsina who abruptly swept from the room, leaving her staring in terror at a closing door. ‘Oh no!’ Mistral moaned when Melsina reappeared seconds later with her arms full of white material. ‘Please … no –’

  ‘Too many expectant women wear black! No need I say! You’re pregnant, not fat! Why hide the beautiful shape of a body filled with a new life? This is a dress I had made when I was expecting. It will celebrate every curve your pregnancy has blessed you with – now, stand still!’

  Mistral instantly froze, more in an instinctual response to the barely concealed edge of steel in Melsina’s voice than the actual instruction. She responded automatically to Melsina’s muttering instructions as she began to position her into a long white gown.

  ‘Turn towards me – good, now back around again – and stand still –’

  Mistral forced herself to think of how The Velvet Forests would look in the crisp morning sunlight, the way the dew would glisten like wet diamonds on gossamer cobwebs; the scent of the ripe blackberries hanging from reddening brambles and the glimpse of spiky conkers hiding amongst the fallen leaves … autumn, she loved autumn. Mistral sighed deeply and Melsina laughed, mistaking her sigh of longing for one of happiness.

  ‘Yes, it is beautiful isn’t it? Now, I just want to do your hair before I show you the finished effect.’

  Melsina pulled Mistral over towards a dressing table laden with a bewildering array of bottles, jars and brushes of every conceivable length and thickness. She dramatically flung a large towel over the mirror before pushing Mistral down onto the padded stool.

  ‘Now sit still and don’t say anything ... but do keep breathing dear.’

  Mistral was instantly reminded of her wedding day and being bullied by the twins into having her hair cut then being forced into that ridiculous dress. Lost in her reverie of the mercifully brief ceremony and the far more enjoyable battle that had followed, Mistral was only dimly aware of Melsina’s fingers pulling at her hair and pinning it into place.

  ‘There,’ she finally announced. ‘I think that will do nicely! Now, before you stand up –’ Melsina slipped her feet into a pair of white satin slippers and stood up with a pleased look on her face. ‘All do
ne, up you get! Now, what do you think?’ She yanked the towel away from the mirror with a flourish and stepped back to allow Mistral to see her reflection in the full length mirror.

  ‘Oh!’ Mistral stared with wide eyes at herself in the mirror. Her first instinct was to grab the towel in Melsina’s hands and drape it over herself. She cringed, barely able to look her own reflection in the eye. The dress celebrated every new curve with eye-popping effect. She stared in horror at the plunging neckline before eyeing the narrow beaded straps fearfully; they seemed far too fragile to be the only visible means of support for the rest of the dress.

  ‘Empire line darling, so flattering on the cleavage –’

  Flattering? Words failed Mistral. The dress gathered tightly under her bust in a way that surely couldn’t be healthy for her, then fell in swathes of sheer material, skimming lightly over her pregnant body right down to the floor. Her hair; long and untameable and at best tied back in a ponytail, had been coaxed into shining waves and swept back into an elegant knot, leaving her feeling terribly exposed without even the saving grace of a few strands of unruly hair to hide behind.

  ‘Oh Melsina, I –' Mistral began in a frightened whisper, wondering how to beg for something else to wear without offending the twins’ formidable mother.

  ‘No need my darling.’ Melsina replied in a voice that throbbed with emotion. ‘The way you look is thanks enough for me! You will be the centre of attention tonight.’

  Mistral blanched at the thought of actually leaving the bathroom and having other people witness her horribly half-naked state.

  ‘Now, it really is time we were going! I just need to change into my gown.’

  Mistral stared at her own reflection wondering desperately how she could cover some of herself up. Suddenly hearing rustling sounds from behind her, she spun round, reaching for the dagger she always wore only to realise it was attached to her discarded trousers. She was instantly dumbfounded by the sight of Melsina moving towards her in a fitted sheaf of emerald silk. The vivid green against her alabaster skin created an effect that went beyond eye-catching, it was spectacular.

  ‘Do you like it?’ Melsina asked, eyeing herself critically in the mirror. ‘I hoped the green would bring out the colour of my eyes.’

  ‘Er, it does.’ Mistral managed to mutter, thinking that it was also the same shade as the twins’ and wondering what the hell they would make of her dress, or rather, her lack of dress.

  ‘Well, it will have to do,’ she said, giving her reflection a final appraising look. ‘Quickly now! Sit down! You need just a touch of something to bring out those lovely dark eyes and … ah, yes, here we go –’

  Mistral closed her eyes and fought the reflexive urge to screw her face up as Melsina brushed something over her eyelashes. A soft brush flicked briefly over her face, making her sneeze and causing Melsina to release more musical peals of laughter. Then she was suddenly being propelled out of the vast bathroom and along the plush corridors, through the opulent rooms and back towards the entrance hall.

  Mistral balled her hands in tight fists while Melsina chatted brightly by her side, her iron grip never leaving her arm. She didn’t hear a word Melsina spoke; she was too preoccupied by thoughts of what Fabian was going to make of her outrageous appearance … would he be horrified, like she was? Or would he laugh? Or be angry that Melsina had made his wife look so … so … Mistral lacked the vocabulary to describe how she looked. Impractical! Yes, that was how she looked! She was meant to be working tonight after all, Fabian would no doubt be furious that she was dressed so inappropriately. She seized on to that one thought like a life ring, convincing herself that he would throw a fit and refuse to allow her to leave the house looking the way she did.

  ‘Ah, Mage De Winter, may I present your wife to you.’ Melsina tittered and let go of Mistral’s arm to give her a shove in the small of her back.

  Keeping her eyes firmly closed Mistral staggered a few steps across the thick carpet and came to a halt, waiting to hear Fabian’s exclamation of shock.

  Silence.

  Not the response she had been expecting, Mistral tentatively opened one eye a fraction then stared in wide-eyed amazement at her husband. The first thing she noticed was that he was clean-shaven, something she had only seen rarely, the most memorable being their wedding day. In the same split-second she was struck by how breathtakingly handsome he looked. He was dressed in expensive looking black trousers and a tailored white shirt that accentuated his dark hair and jet black eyes. Eyes that were gazing at her now with a familiar burning intensity that made her bite her lip to avoid grinning at their meaning.

  ‘You look –’ He paused and gave an astounded shake of his head.

  She bit her lip harder and winced. Denying his thoughts, his aura and even his face, she closed her eyes again and waited for the denouncement of her appearance.

  ‘– absolutely stunning.’

  ‘Yes she does. Good evening Lady De Winter,’ a voice drawled.

  Mistral blinked and realised that Fabian was stood beside Vilius De’ath.

  ‘Vilius De’ath,’ he introduced himself with a polite nod.

  Mistral nodded back to the Mage she’d seen previously at the Divinus’ funeral banquet. She’d thought him uninteresting then, but stood next to the dark perfection of her Mage he was utterly insignificant.

  ‘I think it is time we left now.’ Melsina declared, sweeping past to collect a green beaded purse from the table near the door. ‘Vilius?’

  ‘Of course. You look beautiful my darling.’ Vilius dropped an obedient kiss into the air above Melsina’s face before springing forward to open the door.

  ‘Thank you.’ Melsina glided past, suddenly reminding Mistral of a grass snake sliding by.

  Mistral stared meaningfully at Fabian, willing him to bring her a jacket, or a blanket, or anything to cover herself with, but he just slipped an arm around her and gently, but firmly escorted her out of the door.

  ‘I really can’t do this!’ Mistral wailed in a slightly hysterical undertone once Melsina and Vilius were far enough ahead of them not to overhear.

  ‘Yes, you can.’ Fabian murmured, his lips brushing against the bare skin of her neck

  The touch of his lips distracted her from the panic that was writhing in the pit of her stomach, but gave rise instead to a completely different set of butterflies, ‘Have you been to many of these gala things before?’ She managed to ask in a slightly less hysterical voice.

  ‘I’ve suffered a few in my time.’ Fabian smiled. ‘There will be a champagne reception in the atrium followed by a banquet. Then, when everyone is sated on alcohol and food, we will have our meeting to decide the future of the Ri.’

  Mistral gave him an apprehensive look, ‘Melsina said that there would be delegates from across the world there tonight, does that mean the Rochfortes are guests at the gala too?’

  Fabian’s smiled tightened slightly as he nodded.

  ‘And I’ve come out without a sword, damn it –’

  Laughing softly, Fabian stopped and turned to look at her, ‘Yes, they will be there, but I do not think even Christophe and Malachi are desperate enough to attempt an abduction in the middle of a Council gala. I have spoken with Eximius and he has placed warlocks on every door, and there will even be two inside the chamber during our meeting, which is unheard of, so I know that he is taking the threat seriously. And, I promise not to leave your side tonight for one single moment. Not that I would want to,’ he added, holding her gaze while he slowly traced a fingertip along the line of her jaw before letting it trail lazily down the curve of her neck and over the exposed sweep of her chest.

  Mistral felt a sudden heat that had little to do with embarrassment and was suddenly glad that Fabian couldn’t read her thoughts; sometimes they shocked even her.

  ‘You look so beautiful.’

  She gazed at him, captivated by his smile ... her favourite smile, a velvet softness that glowed in his eyes before it ever touched hi
s lips.

  ‘You know, of course, that it is traditional to present your wife with a gift on the occasion of their first child,’ he murmured in a voice softer than brushed silk and slid his hands around to caress the skin at the nape of her neck.

  Mistral gasped involuntarily as something cold and heavy fell against her chest, ‘Oh!’ she stared down at a large diamond, glistening like a teardrop suspended from the fine gold chain he’d fastened around her neck.

  ‘I know you care little for jewellery,’ he gave her an apologetic smile. ‘But it would be remiss of me not to mark the occasion in the correct manner.’

  ‘It’s –’ Mistral struggled to find words to express the emotions swirling through her mind. The necklace was pretty enough, she supposed ... but the way he was looking at her was worth a thousand diamond necklaces. ‘Exquisite,’ she finally breathed, caught by the dark lights in his eyes.

  ‘Not compared to you it isn’t,’ he smiled and bent his head to kiss her.

  She closed her eyes, wanting touch be her only sense but was unable to resist the seductive whisper of his unspoken thoughts in her ear. Laughing softly, she pulled away to meet his smouldering look with a smile. ‘It unlaces at the back.’

  ‘Does it really?’ He ran a hand experimentally over the tightly-laced white ribbons at the back of her dress.

  ‘Where are we staying tonight?’ she asked, suddenly full of fearful imaginings of immaculate white bedrooms at Melsina’s house.

  ‘Our house.’ Fabian said simply, sliding an arm around her and steering her towards the gates again.

  Mistral stopped and stared at him in confusion, ‘But that’s a three day ride!’

  Fabian smiled, ‘I know you take longer to move around these days, but I hope it won’t take you three days to reach the house I’ve brought for us here.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ Mistral cast her eyes over her shoulder at the long line of grand buildings. ‘Which one is it?’

  ‘None of those monstrosities.’ Fabian replied lightly. ‘I think you’ll really like it actually … it’s a small house overlooking the stables, well, small by Council standards. It has only five bedrooms.’