Page 53 of The Duke of Fire
“Perhaps it is time to retire,” Cassian suggested.
The three then stood up and walked down the street. As the cool air struck their faces, the conversation moved from serious to plain trivialities. Somehow, Sebastian was relieved to talk about politics, hunting, and even the upcoming ball. He was eager to rid his mind of Amelia, even for a short time.
It was a quiet night, with the moon looming over them and the crisp air cutting through some of the slight effects of brandy.
Then, a figure suddenly appeared before them.
A gypsy woman, perhaps in her fifties, wearing heavy glass bracelets of varying colors and a long, tattered dress, stood in the middle of the road.
“A gold coin for a glimpse of what is to come, my lords?” she offered in a singsong voice.
“No, thank you,” Cassian said in a tight voice, trying to brush past the woman without looking at her.
“Not for me, either. I do not believe in fortune-telling,” Benedict muttered as he made it past the gypsy woman.
Sebastian, walking last, did not say anything. He just wanted out. He just wanted to go home and the sweet oblivion of sleep. Escape. But the gypsy woman had other plans. She grabbed his wrist as he walked past her.
“A moment, my lord,” she rasped.
“Let go. I do not want to hurt you,” he said, pulling back his hand.
Her fingers had already dug into his palm. She pulled his fist open and narrowed her eyes at whatever she saw there.Then, she laughed. It was not a harsh sound. The damned gypsy actually sounded delighted.
“What? What is it?” Sebastian snapped.
“I have been looking at palms all my life, but I have never seen such a future,” she declared, a grin forming on her face. “It is bright and loud. One would saytoo loud. You will have seven children, my lord.”
“Absolutely not!” he yelled, taken aback.
How was that possible? This gypsy was nothing but a fraud. She could not even read his lack of desire for marriage. One woman could not be enough for him. He had no wish for affection. Children would make things even more complicated.
Laughter rang on the otherwise quiet street. His friends seemed thoroughly amused.
“Seven children!” Cassian spluttered.
“Well, I have to start making a list of their possible names. What do you think, Sebastian?” Benedict asked.
“You have no idea who you are talking to,” Sebastian told the gypsy. “I have no plans of marrying. I will not be siring children, and I do not believe a word you said.”
“We will see about that,” the gypsy interrupted. “Come back to me after your third or fourth child because I am rarely wrong.”
“I guess this is one of those nights, then,” Sebastian quipped. “Because you are wrong now.”
“Tell me when the time comes,” she said ominously.
Before Sebastian could ask her whether she wanted her precious coin, the woman had vanished into the mist like a ghost. Almost like a wraith of doom.
“It looks like you have several little ones in your future. I can help knit little clothes and booties,” Cassian offered, clapping his friend on the back.
“You do not know how to knit, Cassian,” Sebastian grumbled.
“I will send my gifts. Monogrammed cradles for the first five, perhaps with the letter ‘A,’ after our favorite girl,” Benedict added, nudging Sebastian hard on the shoulder.
“You two can both go to—” Sebastian began. “Never mind. I can tell you two to stop, but you will not. Believing in fortune-tellers only proves your idiocy.”
They laughed even harder.
Sebastian realized that he was not as angry as he pretended to be. He walked fast, but the gypsy’s voice followed him, haunted him. What if it was just a scenario? A possibility?
