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“And it must be done during the full moon,” I finished.

I could tell he didn’t like this answer by the way his shoulders went rigid. “When is that?”

“July 6th.” Ten days away. Marko would be back.

Nikola must have realized the same thing, for he said, “I’m sure I can find some reason to get my father out of the house. He often goes down to the kavana to drink or gamble.”

I prayed he was right, for if not, Ana’s life would be at risk.

“What happens if we do nothing?” he then asked. “Your treatment so far seems to have been helping her.”

This was true. But I worried this was only a temporary solution, not powerful enough to eradicate the true root of her illness. I told him this, but I did not say the dreadful truth hidden beneath these words. That if we waited too long, the Evil Eye would consume her.

A terrible thought struck me, that still haunts me now. What if I fail? What if Ana dies? Even though I have been healing her for only a little over a week, I’ve grown fond of her in that time. I thought of the way she had brushed my hair, the gentleness in her touch. I didn’t want to lose her. Or Nikola.

I began trembling all over, as if I were back in the house, in the dreadful cold. I turned away from Nikola and clutched my torso, not wanting him to see the fear written all over my skin.

I am trembling all over again as I write this. I could never have predicted what happened next. Or maybe, if I’m being honest with myself, I had, but only in my dreams.

A moment after I turned, I heard him step closer, until he was standing right behind me. He said my name again. Asked me what was wrong.

“Nothing,” I whispered. “I’m just . . . scared.” I felt so lost and alone. I wished you were there to guide me, to tell me all would be alright. “I should go,” I told him. “It is late.” I didn’t want him to see the true depth of my panic. What if he lost faith in me? No longer wanted me to help Ana?

I waited for some sort of confirmation for me to take my leave, but instead he placed his hand on my shoulder. I shivered anew beneath his touch. “Magdalena,” he said. When I turned, he pulled me to his chest, wrapping me in an embrace. At first I froze from surprise, but then his scent surrounded me—tobacco and lavender, more herbal than sweet. I inhaled it, letting it comfort me. My limbs relaxed, and I melted against his body.

“It’ll be alright. We will figure this out together,” he murmured. Together. Did he know what those words truly meant? All the years I’ve been alone, without an ally or a friend? A sob burst out of me, but he only tightened his hold, stroking my hair, my back. He swayed me gently from side to side, and I clung to him as if he were a raft on a raging sea.

Eventually, my shaking subsided. My anxiety had ebbed away, but it had been replaced by something else. Heat, though I wasn’t sure who it belonged to—me, him, or both. It overwhelmed me, filling me with want. Need. It frightened me in a new way, that I could desire something so fiercely out of reach. I attempted to step away, but Nikola gripped me tighter. The warmth within me blazed into a wildfire. As I looked up at him, his lips captured mine.

I have kissed men before—please do not be surprised or disappointed, Majko. I am often lonely. But this was different. Not hasty, like the sailors I sometimes met in Zara, or reeking of rakija, like Branko. Nikola kissed me like . . . it was an art. And he was a master. Even now the memory of it makes me flush.

A madness overtook us. We kissed harder and faster, our hands roaming over each other like we couldn’t get enough. But in our passion, we bumped against a shelf, and a few bottles of oil fell to the ground, shattering across the floor. It brought me to my senses. I quickly apologized, telling him I didn’t mean for that to happen.

“Don’t apologize,” he said back. He was panting slightly, his lips raw and red. “I have been wanting to do that for some time now.”

“Since when?” I asked, surprised.

“Since the first day I brought you here.”

I thought of that day, when he’d caressed perfume on my wrist. I was astounded. I hadn’t dared to imagine he would truly want me in that way, though I secretly wished it.

“What now?” I asked. “What should we do?”

He thought for a moment, then responded, “Wait for the full moon, I suppose.”

Reality came crashing down on me. I was too ashamed to admit that I had been asking about us, not his mother. Embarrassed, I simply nodded. I then stood there awkwardly, unsure how to part ways, until finally he said he should check on Ana to make sure she was doing alright. He asked if I could still make my regular visits, as I was a great comfort to her, and I agreed.

A strange feeling overcame me then as we made our way to the door, side by side. A sudden urge to stop, to ask him to stay, to hold me and kiss me once more. Because I knew the moment we went outside, back into the world, that everything would be different. That I would have to confront the reality of what truly ailed Ana and work to defeat it. That whatever just happened between us would have to remain a secret, same as my visits to Lavender House. Because how could it ever work? With me, the scorned outcast, and him, the admired heir? It all felt like a dream, some alternate reality tinted by a lavender haze, and I wanted to linger in it a little longer. Forever, if I could.

But of course, I said nothing. I am strong, like you, like Nera. So I merely straightened my back, inhaled a deep breath of lavender for my memories, and stepped back out into the cruel world.

Interlude

Petra wanders like a ghost through the halls, a shade of her former self.

The House watches as she meanders into the study, picks a book from the shelf. Flips through it with glazed-over eyes. Puts it back. Heads down to the living room, where she settles onto the couch with a sigh. Karmela asks if everything’s alright, and Petra answers with a firm nod. But the House isn’t fooled.

It is just like Marija was, on so many of her days. She also often wandered in a hopeless malaise, burned by the islanders and their gossip. Her spark diminishing until it erupted in all the wrong ways.