Foretell (31 page)

Besides, living with Salazar couldn’t be all that bad. As long as he didn’t use me like my mother and sister had, I really couldn’t ask for more.

But what could it hurt to let Aurelia try?

If it didn’t work out, I could quit this whole ‘training’ business and move on. And if she was only here to use me, I could always club her with my baseball bat for making me believe her.

But if it did work…I would finally be free. Freedom was always worth a risk.

“Well,” she persisted. “Are you going to give me a chance?”

“Okay,” I agreed. Aurelia clapped her hands, nearly squealing with glee.

“But we have to continue to meet in private,” I stressed.

She nodded. “Of course.”

“It doesn’t have to be in the middle of the night though. I don’t exactly have much to do, anyway. I can probably get away.”

“Perfect,” she said.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “You have to be the most lively gypsy I’ve met so far,” I mentioned. “Are you always this excited?”

“Oh, yes,” she nodded. She stared off into the distance, looking out towards the many tents and RVs parked along the river. “Believe it or not, I’m not a new soul. I’ve lived many, many lives. I think it’s our curse to be jaded, but I try not to let myself fall prey to it. Sometimes it can be difficult. When that happens, I remember to take pleasure in the little things because it’s the little things that make life great.”

Aurelia made a good point. I decided I would try and adopt her attitude. Not that I had to worry about becoming jaded, at least not yet. I did have a habit of letting things get to me though, which is probably why my panic attacks continued long after my father’s death.

Aurelia grinned and the moment instantly lost its seriousness. “I should go work for Hallmark, right?”

“Definitely,” I agreed, chuckling.

“So are you finally ready to begin, my love?”

Aurelia had spread out a picnic blanket close to the water and set a lantern on top of it. Here, she directed me to sit across from her. She pulled out a timer strung onto a cord beneath her robe and set the device to zero.

Wrapping her chubby jeweled fingers over my wrist, she held her hand there, pressing down against my drumming veins. “I want to monitor your heart rate,” she explained.

Before she asked her first question, I warned her it had to be something she wanted. She surprised me, by asking, “I’d like to know if Elvis is truly dead. How do I find out?”

I almost laughed
,
the question was so ridiculous
. Then my usual symptoms began, cutting my laughter short. I strained against them.

“Don’t give in,” she encouraged me. “And tell me what’s happening to you.”

I shook my head wearily. If I spoke, I was sure the only thing that would come out was her answer.

I strained against the symptoms until I felt like I would pass out. My lips moved of their own accord. “He’s dead. He’s buried in Graceland at the Meditation Garden.”

“Damn,” Aurelia muttered. “I always hoped he was still alive. I saw him in concert once, during my last life.”

Too drained for words, I gave her a weak smile. She patted my arm sympathetically.

“You didn’t do so bad, my love. One minute, two seconds.”

“This is impossible,” I whined dully. “It’s not even me speaking. I don’t know where it comes from.”

“You have to learn to control the curse, rather than to let it control you. We’ll keep at it. Stay positive. Now tell me what was happening while you fought the curse. What were you feeling?”

I gave her the extensive list of my symptoms. She nodded and scribbled down notes onto a pad of paper she’d brought with her. “Your heart rate sped up before you spoke,” she advised me. “I thought that was interesting.”

“Why?”

“Because it remained steady the rest of the time.”

Her answer surprised me. If that was the case, I wondered why it always felt as if I were having a melt down.

“Which means it’s all in your head,” she told me. “And further proof you can beat this thing. Mind over matter. Repeat after me, mind-over-matter.”

I repeated the mantra with her, feeling sort of dumb, but willing to try anyway.

She asked me a few more questions before we quit for the night. The longest I held out for was one minute and five seconds. It wasn’t much of an improvement, but I figured at least it
was
an improvement.

“Great work tonight, Estelle,” Aurelia said once we were finished. “I’ll meet you tomorrow. Not here, people like to swim during the day. Meet me behind the castle at noon, on the Eastern side. There’s a garden there I like to visit.”

“See you then,” I promised.

I felt exhausted as I hiked back to my tent, but it was a good kind of exhaustion.

In the end, I was happy I met with Aurelia. I still was unsure about her intentions, but I didn’t believe they were bad or self-serving. I felt it in my gut to believe she was good. And aside from that, I liked her. Her enthusiasm and positivity made me believe it was possible to beat this thing.
I only hoped I could pull it off.

I woke the next morning sticky with sweat. The days here were warm with summer fast approaching. The weather wasn’t the only thing bothering me in my sleep though. I’d dreamed of the little girl again. She still haunted me. I still didn’t know why.

This time I saw her crying. She was lying on the ground next to a dollhouse, wearing the same blood stained white gown she wore in my bedroom.

I shivered, pushing her image to the far corners of my mind.

I intended to distance myself from whoever she was. Considering the way I cringed upon seeing her face, I doubted I even wanted to know.

Later that morning, I accompanied Salazar to the castle. He submitted his request with King Gabor for a hearing and brought me with him in case anything went wrong. I knew better though. Nothing would go wrong. As long he followed my instructions perfectly, his hearing would be granted.

King Gabor’s meeting with Salazar was held in private within Castelul de Prieteni, leaving me time to explore.

“May I look around?” I asked one of the guards. I batted my lashes and smiled sweetly. I wasn’t exactly an expertise on flirting, but I managed to get a wink out of the guard, followed by instructions to keep to the main hall.

I was surprised to discover it was almost like walking through the outdoors within the walls of the castle. Plants and shrubbery decorated the stone halls. The ceilings and windows were tall, allowing a flood of natural light to seep inside. There was no furniture anywhere. The only seating available were heaps of overstuffed pillows scattered along beautiful Persian rugs.

Curiously, I explored the castle, happy to find there weren’t many doors to bar my way. I entirely disregarded the guard’s orders to stay within the main hall, but so far no one had reprimanded me for trespassing. Everyone I passed barely spared me a glance.

I was about to turn the corner into what looked to be a dining hall, when I heard a gaggle of female voices chatting from inside. I would’ve kept walking, except I heard the name Constantin and I froze in my tracks. I wasn’t one to eavesdrop, usually preferring to respect the privacy of others. Except in this instance, I couldn’t get my feet to move. My heart sped up, hanging onto every word they said.

“Oh, that’s so romantic.” One of the girls sighed dreamily. “Are you going to see him?”

I slowly peeked around the corner, seeing three girls lounging on large pillows. All of them were young, pretty, and elegantly dressed. A low table was set in front of them, with an assortment of fruits and pastries sitting on top of it.

A blonde who had her back to me said, “Do you think I should?”

A curvy brunette with rosy cheeks smiled at the blonde. “You definitely should. This is, like,
fate
, or something.”

The other friend, a willowy black-haired girl, giggled loudly.
“Anya, you’re so dramatic,” she teased.

“What?” Anya asked innocently. “You don’t think it’s hopelessly romantic? Lettie’s long lost love has come back into the picture. Little did she know, he was searching for her all this time.
”

I swallowed painfully, hoping they weren’t talking about
who
I thought they were talking about. The blonde shifted in her seat. She spooned some honey in her tea, slowly stirring the liquid. “I knew he was looking for me.” She’d said it so
quietly,
I had to strain to hear her.

“But, honey, then why didn’t you say anything? Didn’t you want to see him?”

The blonde cleared her throat, and said, “It’s complicated. Stefan was a Royal. He abandoned the courts in his next life and I had,” she paused, “other responsibilities.”

I held my breath, realizing I was staring at
exactly
who I thought it was. The blonde woman they called Lettie had to be Tatiana.

I watched as the Anya placed a hand on her friend’s arm. Tentatively, she asked, “Honey, does this have something to do with the Order of Dracul?”

Lettie looked up, strangely startled. “Anya, you must never say that name aloud.”

“Pardon me, but it’s not a huge secret.”

“The society itself isn’t,” she hissed. “However, my connections to it are.”

A lingering, uncomfortable silence settled between the two girls. Finally the third friend broke it, by smiling and saying, “Why don’t we talk more about Stefan? You never answered our earlier question. Are you going to see him or not?”

Lettie seemed to relax. She turned slightly and I noticed traces of a smile in her profile. “His name is Rex,” she said fondly. “He is even more handsome in this life, if it’s possible.”

Anya,
arched a brow. “I feel like there is a but in there somewhere,” she mentioned.

Lettie nodded. “But,” she emphasized. “He is still an abandoner.”

“So what? Times are different now.”

“I’m still a Royal,” Lettie pointed out. “It wouldn’t be acceptable.
Especially to the people.
The Constantins were the most beloved of the Royal families. People mark their abandonment as a betrayal. Some still consider them murderers.”

“Forget those people,” Anya told her friend. “Or better yet, convince Stefan to regain his throne. If the people loved him as much as you say, I’d bet they’d be willing to take him back with open arms.”

Lettie sighed. “I don’t know, Anya.”

Her voice drifted off. I leaned in closer, but was pulled back by a large hand tugging at my arm. “Excuse me, Miss, this part of the castle is off limits.”

All three of the girls turned at the sound of the guard’s voice. Anya looked at me pointedly. “Were you eavesdropping?” she asked, horrified.

They all stared at me with incredulous expressions, waiting to hear what I had to say.

“I’m s-sorry,” I stuttered. “I got lost.” It was the first lie I could think of.

Reddened in shame, I quickly ran out of the room before they could say anything else.

I stared dazedly at a display of violets in the royal gardens, trying to forget my embarrassing spy work in the dining hall of Castelul de Prieteni, yet at the same
time,
I couldn’t stop thinking about what had been said.

After a while, I realized Aurelia was scolding me. “You need to focus, Estelle,” she said. “You didn’t try very hard on the last question. You answered in under a minute.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled, feeling bad for wasting her efforts to help me. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

I’d met Aurelia shortly after Salazar triumphantly scored his hearing with King Gabor. He’d been so thrilled that when I asked him if I could explore the gardens, he merely told me to be careful and to be back at camp by dark.

Salazar was beginning to trust me more and more. His trust in me worked out great for Aurelia and me. We had more time to train, which ultimately made me feel worse about my inability to focus.

We both sat sprawled across a blanket within a secluded area of the gardens. My hand rested in hers as she asked me question after question while timing me with her stopwatch. I was trying to concentrate, however, my mind kept wandering back to the conversation I’d overheard. For whatever reason, I couldn’t get it out of my head.

“Aurelia, have you ever heard of the Order of Dracul?”

Aurelia stiffened. “Where did you hear that name?” she asked.

“I overheard it in the castle,” I answered honestly.

Aurelia released my hand, staring off into the distance. Her typically jovial expression faded into a formidable seriousness. “The Order of Dracul is a secret society,” Aurelia told me. “It’s a group comprised of some of the more powerful gypsies. Their methods have been known to be radical.”

“What do they stand for?” I asked.

I could tell Aurelia didn’t care much for discussing the group. There was a mark of detest glinting from her eyes.

“They’ve been pining for land for a long time now,” she told me, swallowing. “And power.”

Even though I was immensely curious, I said, “If it makes you uncomfortable, we don’t have to talk about them.”