William interrupted. “Peril, doubt—I mislike this way of speaking to the lady. As the bright star she is, there must also be joy.”
For one moment, Dee met William’s gaze as an equal, assessing and perhaps understanding more than he should. Then he flickered down a notch and returned to Minuette. “Yes, mistress,” he said gravely. “There will be an abundance of joy, for such is your nature. There will be marriage, passionate and deep. Though peril and doubt walk hand in hand with such joy, you will count the price well paid for what you gain.”
That pleased William more, for he took Minuette’s hand, raised it to his lips, then continued to clasp it as she said, a little shakily, “Thank you, Dr. Dee. You quite take my breath away.”
Elizabeth would have bet everything she owned that Dee was not telling all. This was vagueness, but so well finessed that he might not be accused of foretelling an unpropitious future. Peril and doubt? If Minuette were to be William’s wife, there would be plenty of both. And even a marriage “passionate and deep” could be a thing of disaster in the end.
“Elizabeth,” William ordered Dee. “My sister must be next.”
She waited for Dee to search out her page in his folio—though he had not referred to Minuette’s at all, as if he had memorized their fates—but surprisingly, he disagreed. “If it please Your Majesty, I had thought to address you next. From the youngest to the oldest—there is symmetry in such a reading.”
William had been drinking just enough that Elizabeth wasn’t sure if he would snarl in anger or give way graciously. After hesitating, he gave way. “Who am I to gainsay the stars?” Another subtext:I’ll let you take me in turn, but it had better be worth my while.
Dee gave a flick of a smile as he turned over Minuette’s star chart to reveal the one beneath it. “As you say. Despite the fact that you and Mistress Wyatt were born nearly at the same hour and in the same place, the stars reflect the differences between you. You know, naturally, that the comet that marked your birth was a portent of great power. The heavens marked you at birth, Your Majesty, and every moment of your life has been lit with the flame of that comet.”
“Flame can be grand or destructive,” William replied, not as lightly as it appeared. “Which am I?”
“A grand king in a time of destruction. The powers of Satan oppose you—”
“Wretched Catholics,” William muttered.
“—and Europe grows uneasy at England’s rise. There is much uncertainty on your path, Your Majesty. But a burning star can blaze the way to a new world—or it can flame out and fall into darkness.”
The last words rang ominously into the silent room. Elizabeth’s throat tightened. Had Dee just accused her brother of possibly choosing darkness?
William waved it away. “Of course I choose the new world. What of more…personal fates?”
Was it Elizabeth’s imagination that Dee held the image of William and Minuette’s clasped hands in his mind as he answered? “The personal and the public march together for a king. Trouble there will be, and opposition, but you will always keep your own ends in mind. You will never lose sight of what you most desire.”
William gave his catlike smile as he leaned back in his chair. “That is a future I can embrace.”
But you need hardly look to the stars to know that much of William, Elizabeth thought—or any king, for that matter. Their father had never lost sight of what he desired, and had nearly riven his kingdom for it.
Feeling more nervous than she’d expected, Elizabeth met Dee’s attention next. But his gaze was kind, almost…sorrowful?
“Your Highness,” he began, and this time he did look down at the new chart he’d turned to, as though wondering where and how to begin, “your stars were the most difficult to interpret. They are changeable, one might almost say willful.”
“Right stars, then,” William said with good humour.
Elizabeth hardly heard him, for her eyes were riveted to Dee’s. That cryptic sense she’d had earlier intensified. For a moment she felt that she was seeing the future herself. He is important to me, she realized, or will be. For a long time to come.
As though acknowledging her unspoken thoughts, Dee nodded. “Your future is veiled even to yourself, Your Highness, for the clearest eyes cannot see straight into the sun. You love deeply and your loyalty to your single love will be everlasting.”
Did he mean Robert?Everlasting loyalty…but that could mean anything from eventual marriage to a lifetime of unfulfilled love.
“You will command men and guide nations,” Dee continued, and in that moment he crossed the line of discretion he had been walking so carefully before.
Suddenly alert (though probably he had been all along), Dominic laid a hand on William’s shoulder. “Beware, Doctor. Your king guides this nation.”
“And as such, he has already given Her Highness her first command, when he named her regent earlier this year. And before another year passes,” Dee returned his gaze to Elizabeth, “you will be your brother’s voice in a foreign land.”
That did speak of marriage—one out of England. Elizabeth blinked, furious at herself for disappointment. It was hardly news. This wasn’t prophecy; this was merely stating the obvious.
But John Dee continued to stare at her and Elizabeth had a queer double feeling that she was seeing him here, now, and also seeing him some years in the future, with white hair and a pointed beard. He was going to tell her how to save England, he was about to tell her what she need do for her people …
The moment snapped and Dee cleared his throat as he turned his full attention to Dominic. He took Dominic’s measure, the only one standing, protective behind William, with one hand still on his friend’s shoulder. “The elder brother,” Dee said thoughtfully. “The first, who would be last.”
Dominic dropped his hand and said stonily, “I have no need for a star-teller. I choose my own future.”
