Iza smiled. “Each strand is wisdom gained through time. As you grow wiser and rely on intuition that comes from deep in the soul, more will appear.”
Samantha had always listened to her instincts and now wondered if that was her soul leading her.
Cassian stood and offered his arm to Samantha.
“We are not finished,” Iza said.
She thought for certain that there was nothing else the young woman could tell her and then she realized that Iza was staring at Cassian. He held her gaze for the longest moment then slowly took his seat again as if Iza had somehow forced him onto the stool.
Samantha stepped around him and sat on the other side because she did not want to be between the two.
“Your teacup.” Iza held out her hand and Cassian passed it to her.
She looked inside and frowned. “Finish it and we will discuss what troubles you.”
Chapter 9
Bloody hell! Cassian did not come here for himself, but for Samantha.
He stared into Iza’s eyes trying to determine how serious she was about giving him a reading and why she seemed to think he was troubled as he drained the liquid, not willing to argue. Madam Boswell must have taught Iza the intransigent stare while training her how to use her other gifts.
When he finished drinking, he returned the cup to Iza and sat quietly and was perhaps a little apprehensive as she studied the tea leaves. She turned the cup one way and then the next, as she had done with Samantha, frowning occasionally, but not as much as she had done earlier, although she was quite serious.
“Your palms,” she ordered after she set the cup aside.
Cassian produced them without argument because she was rather intimidating.
She traced a few lines with her index finger, tilted her head one way and then the next.
“Hmm,” was all she said. Cassian wanted to ask what she meant but was too afraid to do so.
When she let go, he pulled his hands back and waited for what she would tell him. Instead, she reached for the tray with the cards and as Samantha had done, he shuffled them, then cut them as instructed then waited while Iza placed them and turned them over one at a time. This time there were no frowns, but slight nods as if they confirmed what she had already read in the tea leaves and his palms. And even though he had not come to her for his own fortune, Cassian grew curious as to what she saw.
“Your soul has also lived previous lives, but is much younger than Lady Samantha’s, which explains why she is more content, even joyful and you tend to be, well, restless.”
“I am not,” he argued.
“Why is that?” Samantha asked with curiosity.
“Your soul has seen much and that maturity has brought an appreciation for the world and the simplicity and beauty it possesses. The music of the world.”
Samantha gasped, no doubt because of the accuracy of Iza’s words.
“Your soul, Cassian, is just now beginning to appreciate the beauty of a sunrise instead of lazing about as is often the case with youth. However, it is still unsatisfied, anxious, and wants more.”
Bloody hell! He would never admit that she was correct. “I am content,” Cassian argued instead.
“You seek something beyond.”
“Beyond Nightshade Manor?” he asked. It could be just beyond the Romani camp for all he knew.
“You cannot claim what is beyond without letting go,” she finally said.
“Of what?”
“That I cannot tell you, but it keeps you bound.”
She was speaking in riddles, which was rather aggravating. Why didn’t fortune tellers speak clearly?
