Gabrielle (17 page)

“Who?”

He met my gaze and held it. “They call her the Queen of the Courtesans.”

I was on my way to meet with the uncrowned queen of the courtesan shadow world. Her name was Katarina Viders.

Her name alone put a vivid image in my head. I thought she would look like Ursula from
The Little Mermaid
. Except with legs and arms instead of tentacles. Basically, larger than life and more than a little scary.

Wishing I had Bradley with me again, but knowing I really needed to do this myself—especially since he was such a big part of my confusion now—I sucked in a breath and rang the doorbell.

A plump middle-aged woman wearing an apron around her waist opened the door.

From where I was standing, I could smell the most wonderful things. Melting chocolate chips and cinnamon and baking apples. The comfort of these smells helped take away some of my fear and angst.

“You must be Gabrielle. Please come in.”

I followed the woman inside the cozy house. I don't think I had ever been in such a comfortable space. Every couch and soft chair made me want to sink into it and take a nap.

Without seeing any of the spines up close, I knew I'd love to read almost everything on the floor-to-ceiling wall of books across the room. And then there were the instruments. The piano and guitar and flute and violin were the ones I could see.

It felt like coming home.

But where was Katarina? I clasped my hands in front of me and waited for the housekeeper to go get her.

“I just made a loaf of turtle bread. Come.” She walked into the bright, cozy kitchen.

“Have some.”

My stomach had been upset all morning just thinking about this meeting, but suddenly it growled and I realized I was starved. But I didn't think it would be right for me to be sitting here stuffing my face when I met her. Not that I was trying to make a good impression or anything, just that I wanted her to take my questions seriously.

“No, thank you.”

“Oh my,” she said with a friendly smile, “where are my manners? You're probably waiting for Katarina Viders to appear. That's me.”

I barely stopped my mouth from falling open in time not to offend her completely and I suddenly wondered, had I learned nothing? Even after a lifetime with my grandmother, even after realizing that many of her elegant lifelong friends had been courtesans, even after getting close with Bradley, I fell back on the stereotype every time.

This woman standing before me, round and motherly in a flour-coated apron, looked more like a fairy godmother than the Queen of the Courtesans.

“Oh. Great. Um, nice to meet you.”

It was like I'd suddenly forgotten how to use the English language, which was especially horrifying given that I wanted to manipulate words and music into great songs for a living.

Help!

“It really is nice to meet you, honey. I have known your grandmother for so long and you are the light in her life. I can see why.” She sliced a piece of turtle bread and put it on a delicate piece of china. As she handed it to me, she said, “I knew your mother, too. She was a wonderful woman.”

I hadn't expected that. Hadn't thought that she would've known my mother. But I suddenly realized that it was good that she had, because what happened to my mother was so much a part of the reason my grandmother believed there was a curse.

“I'm glad you wanted to meet with me. And I'll be happy to answer any questions you have.”

If I had met Katarina two weeks ago, my questions would have been so different. But I'd already gone over and over in my head the moral implications of this world, right versus wrong.

Which wasn't to say that I'd come to any clear decisions of my own, just that I wasn't here to debate the existence of a society of courtesans and protectors in the city.

“Please sit,” she said, leading us over to a small breakfast table in the sun on the side of the kitchen that looked out on her beautiful garden. “Eat something first. It will be easier then.”

There was something about her tone of voice, about the comforting picture she presented, that had me doing just that. She brought over a pot of tea and poured two cups.

When I had polished off the slice of bread and she was cutting me another one, I finally felt ready to speak. “My grandmother thinks there's a curse.”

Nothing like getting straight to the heart of it. I suppose, if nothing else, the past few weeks had been a great education in dealing with difficult things head on. I felt quite proud of my positive spin on things.

“Tell me more, if you wouldn't mind, my dear.”

“Evidently, a couple hundred years ago one of my female ancestors made someone really angry.”

“How?”

“I guess she fell in love with the guy the other woman wanted and ended up cursed.”

Katarina looked at me expectantly and I continued, “Supposedly, no female from the cursed bloodline would ever be able to love as anything other than a courtesan.”

Katarina looked puzzled. “I'm surprised I have never heard either your grandmother or mother talk about this.”

But I wasn't. “Honestly, I think it was something that both of them believed so strongly that they never thought to tell anyone else or to question it.”

“Yes. I believe you're right.” She cocked her head to the side. “Is that why you're here?”

I nodded, hoping—praying!—she was about to say,
There is no curse.

“A curse.” Her words were quiet. Thoughtful.

I couldn't stop myself from saying, “My grandmother said that when my mom got married when she was eighteen, her husband was so horrible. And that was because she betrayed the rules of the curse.” I implored Katarina. “But maybe her marriage was bad simply because she didn't pick well? And the fact that when she came to America and decided to be a courtesan and fell in love with my father, as soon as he left his wife to marry her, he died ... well, that could just be total coincidence, right?”

Katarina slid out of her seat and into the one next to me. Taking each of my hands in her soft, warm ones, she said, “I understand what a different world it is for you now than when I was your age. So much has changed for women in such a short time. There was a day when becoming a courtesan was one of the only ways to freedom.”

From the reading I had done, I knew she was right. I understood that courtesans had paved the way for so many of the liberties that women now took for granted.

I also knew that she wasn't answering my question about the curse.

“It is perfectly obvious to me what a bright, capable young woman you are, Gabrielle.

You deserve to be happy. You deserve true love.”

Oh God.
“You think there really is a curse, don't you?”

She shook her head, pursed her lips together. “I honestly don't know.” She looked thoughtful. “Now that I think about it, there is, perhaps, someone I can put you in touch with, so that you might explore the origin of the curse. If you wish.”

I shook my head. I hated feeling so weak. So unsure all the time. “I don't know if I want to explore anything else.” Because wasn't it basically admitting I thought there was a curse if I went out looking for its
origin
?

“I will be here to help in any way I can if you decide in the future that you would like to look into your past.” Her wise, gentle eyes held mine. “But the curse is not entirely the reason you're here, is it?”

Was I that transparent? I didn't know this woman. I should have left then and there, holding my secrets, my emotions, close to the vest.

Instead, the tea and cookies and warmth had me opening my mouth and telling her,

“There are these two guys and they're both so great, but they're so different. One of them has had such a difficult life and when we're together I can feel how much happier he is. I hate the thought of abandoning him just as much as I hate the thought of not getting to be with him again.

And the other one, well, I just feel so good with him, but he has to marry someone he could never love to keep his family afloat. He needs a courtesan to keep his heart whole.”

She sat silently staring out at her garden for several long moments before she said, “One of them has come to you looking for redemption, while the other is looking for you to save him from a life without love.”

Wow. I couldn't have summed it up any better.

“It seems pretty clear what they both need from you,” she said softly, “but I think the real question is, what do
you
need from you?”

I just stared at her, stunned into silence.

She was right. I was spending so much time trying to make everybody happy—my grandmother, Dylan, Bradley—that I'd forgotten about my own happiness.

Because in a way, didn't a part of me want to have a curse to blame so that I didn't have to take responsibility for my own choices? The truth was, both Bradley and Dylan brought different things into to my life. Into my heart. And they both needed me to fill up an empty space inside their hearts.

By not giving me an answer about the curse either way, Katarina was telling me that I had to make the choice between them—and the world they represented—all on my own.

There were no fairy tales to lead me.

I'd come to Katarina's house expecting the flamboyant queen of the courtesan shadow world to make a proclamation to me about my future. To save me from having to make the most difficult decisions of my life.

What I'd found, instead, was a woman who was more like the mother I'd never had.

And I knew that whether I ended up joining her world or not, I'd very much like to be her friend.

* * *

“I went to see Katarina today.”

My grandmother didn't take a sip from the cup of tea she'd been bringing to her lips.

“I'm not telling you because I want to get into a big fight about it. I don't want to argue with you anymore,
Grandmaman
.”

Her eyes were soft. As gentle as they'd always been. “We don't need to argue,
ma petite
.”

I sat at the kitchen table. “I went to ask her about the curse.”

“And?”

I took a breath. “She didn't have any answers for me. But she said she might know someone I could talk to about it. If I wanted to research it, or something like that.”

My grandmother raised an eyebrow. “Did she give you a name?”

I shook my head. “I didn't ask for one.” I paused before adding, “I didn't quite understand what she was suggesting. What good would talking to another person about it do us?”

“I expect she was thinking of Dauvier.”

“Dauvier?”

“The woman who cursed us. She was a Dauvier.”

Oh.

It had never occurred to me that there was a legacy on the side of the curser. Only the cursee.

My brain felt like it was barely chugging up a steep mountain pass on rickety tracks. “So, Katarina was telling me that if I wanted to go talk to that woman's descendants and find out if they know anything about this curse, she would help me find them?”

My grandmother's face abruptly went pale. Pale enough that I got up out of my chair and went to kneel on the floor beside her.

“
Grandmaman
, what's wrong?”

“The Dauviers have spent so many years nurturing their hatred toward us. I do not know what they'd do if you came to them with...with questions.”

I needed to make sure I understood what she was saying. “You don't want me to go poking into things. You don't want me bringing up old hatreds.”

“
Ma petite
, you are everything to me. Everything.”

I knew that. Which was why I softly said, “I'm not going to do anything. If I change my mind, you'll be the first to know. I promise I won't keep it from you.”

“No more secrets,
ma petite
?”

“No more secrets,
Grandmaman
.”

I got up off my knees, uncomfortable in more ways than one. “I've got to write a couple more songs before winter break.”

I was halfway out of the room when she said, “Gabrielle?”

I stopped, turned. “Yes,
Grandmaman
?”

“Every since you were a little girl, you have told me everything. You have trusted me to be there for you. Please, do not let me lose your trust.”

I felt tears prick at my eyes, the tears I'd been holding back for so long. “You haven't,”

was what I told her.

Only, that didn't mean I felt comfortable talking to her about everything and anything anymore, like I had when I was ten or twelve or fifteen.

Because how could I possibly talk to her about things that I knew would only hurt her?

She was too frail. Too delicate.

And too worried about me.

I suppose it was inevitable.

Dylan and Bradley had to meet sometime, right?

Because isn't that the way the universe works? When two opposing forces should never meet, in the end there's no way to keep it from happening.

I just wish it didn't have to be right then, at a time when I was more confused about everything than ever before.

* * *

Saturday started off pretty well. Dylan picked me up to go walk over to the school. He was going to help me think through the percussion on a couple of songs I'd been working on. My grandmother was civil to him. He was polite, as well.

I stepped outside and immediately shivered in my thin, short leather jacket. “It's freezing out!” I looked up at the sky, smelled the air. “I swear, it looks like it's going to snow, doesn't it?”

His gaze followed mine as he pulled me closer. After the way things had ended between us in my bedroom just a few days before, I had been afraid things would be awkward when he came to my house again. They were. But only a little. Both of us were doing that thing we did so well; pretending that nothing weird had happened. Pretending that everything was normal.