She straightened her sleeve, covering the bracelet once more, and smiled. “Fifty sounds fair. I’ll consider it. Thanks.”
The jeweller gaped slightly, and she tried not to smile, knowing he would deal with her more fairly next time.
Leaving the shop, she visited another jeweller—a cramped shop a block over. A bell jangled as she pushed the door open.
After exchanging pleasantries with the squat woman behind the counter, she learned her husband owned the shop. The jeweller’s wife didn’t try to swindle her when she showed her the bracelets, immediately offering her sixty for the pink bracelet and buying two more off her.
Giddy, Elizabeth parted with the bracelets, leaving with pockets bulging from the weight of gold.
It might prove to be far simpler to finance her escape than she had anticipated. In a good mood, she headed back towards the bookshop.
Elizabeth took a wrong turn somewhere and came across a small, ramshackle shop with plants and colourful rocks on every surface. She had no reason to step inside, but her curiosity was piqued. Crystal balls dotted the shelves, and the air outside the shop smelled strongly of sage and eucalyptus.
It couldn’t be.
The sign read “Apothecary,” but she saw more crystals and dried herbs hanging from garlands and knew exactly what this place was, and exactly the kind of being who owned it.
One summer, Charlotte had dragged Elizabeth on a desperate hunt to find a witch to tell them their fortunes.
“Just imagine,” Charlotte had whispered, eyes bright with mischief, “knowing if we’ll ever escape these boring drawing rooms for a real adventure!” She had pretended to swoon and added with a conspiratorial grin, “Or if we’ll marry handsome lords!”
They had searched every market and back alley but had never found a witch who could read them their fortunes.
Her chest tightened. Charlotte was probably still trapped in those same drawing rooms, while Elizabeth was living the adventure in the far-off land they bothdreamt of—albeit a much more dangerous one than they envisioned when they were younger.
What would Charlotte say if she knew Elizabeth had stumbled across the very thing they’d spent countless hours searching for?
Feeling like Charlotte would never forgive her if she didn’t at least have a look, Elizabeth stepped into the shop.
Chapter 15
Witches and Fortunes
Elizabeth looked at the crystals and dried herbs on the shelves and noted a large painting of a black cat sitting under a crescent moon. Definitely a witch’s shop.
It would be silly to try to get her fortune read. She wasn’t twenty-two anymore, she was twenty-six and had much more important things to spend gold on than a childish novelty like fortune-telling.
She turned to leave when an older woman appeared beside her. “Hello, dearie. What can I do for you?” she trilled.
“What do you sell?” Elizabeth asked cautiously.
“Oh, a bit of this and that.” The woman’s face crinkled with a kindly smile. Elizabeth noted that the woman wore a pendant of a white stone with a pearly sheen, the top wrapped in silver wire. She had a hook-shaped nose, and her attire was a black, loose-fitting gown. Gold rings sat on knobbly fingers that ended with long pointed nails. “Teas for healing, sleeping, things like that. Or are you looking for something more … out of the ordinary?” the witch asked, raising a brow.
“I’m just browsing, thank you.”
She pretended to examine pickled things in jars and chunks of raw crystal on the shelf, well aware of the eyes on her.
“Something about you, I find interesting,” said the woman, no doubt an attempt to wring some coins out of her. “Care to have your fortune read?”
Elizabeth tilted her head, considering. She eyed a reptilian-looking animal preserved in a glass jar. Could this woman really be a witch?
She hesitated, patting her pockets. It would be a fun story to tell Charlotte, at any rate. Hopefully, Fiza and Maud were keeping busy and not waiting for her. “Actually, sure.”
She followed the woman to a small table. The woman lit several candles, even though it was still daytime. The woman waved her hands as if wafting the smell of the candles towards her, then breathed deeply and theatrically. No doubt the woman was a hack, and the dramatics were only for appearances.
Elizabeth scoffed under her breath.
“Five gold nobles for your fortune. Give me your hand.”
