Page 35 of Deals & Dream Spells (The Charmed Leaf Legacy #2)

As he fastened the clasp, all eyes dropped to her other hand, where the distinctive silvery pattern of the ‘soulbond’ gleamed against her skin. Mariselle resisted the urge to hide it within the folds of her skirts. Let them look. It was, after all, the entire reason for this awkward gathering.

“How lovely,” she said, turning her wrist so that the bracelet’s blue stones caught the light.

“We came across it in Vesper’s Curiosities & Oddities yesterday,” Aurelise offered tentatively, immediately confirming Mariselle’s every suspicion. There was no way that something found in an oddities shop didn’t possess some form of strange enchantment.

Evryn cleared his throat and sat a little straighter, directing a pointed gaze at his sister.

“Indeed, Aurelise expressed a desire to find something special for a friend’s birthday celebration,” he said smoothly.

“I offered to accompany her. This particular piece caught my eye the moment I saw it.” His gaze softened as it returned to Mariselle.

“It seemed crafted specifically for you—as though the artisan had somehow glimpsed your very essence.”

Mariselle pressed a hand to her heart, gazing adoringly at him while her eyes promised, I will make you pay for whatever this latest trick is, you insufferable scoundrel .

The drawing room doors opened, and a housekeeper entered carrying a polished silver tray.

She set the tray down on the low table beside the paper flower arrangement before stepping back with a small curtsy.

Lady Lelianna nodded her permission, and the woman began pouring steaming amber liquid into delicate teacups.

“I hope you’ll forgive my less than complete family gathering,” Lady Lelianna remarked, turning her attention back to Mariselle. “Lady Rivenna sends her deepest regrets. She was unable to tear herself away from The Charmed Leaf this afternoon.”

“Please convey my understanding to Lady Rivenna,” Mariselle replied, fully aware that the older woman regretted precisely nothing about missing this afternoon’s gathering. Mariselle accepted a cup of tea with a gracious nod, relieved to be spared another confrontation with the Rowanwood matriarch.

An uncomfortable silence descended upon the room, broken only by the clink of silver against porcelain as spoons stirred tea, and the gentle tap of cups being returned to saucers. Each small sound seemed magnified by the tension.

Mariselle leaned forward slightly, desperately grasping for conversation. “Aurelise,” she began, “were you successful in finding a suitable gift for your friend at the oddities shop? Besides serving as an excellent excuse for your brother to purchase jewelry, of course.”

Aurelise’s eyes widened slightly at being directly addressed, her teacup freezing halfway to her lips. After a moment, she carefully lowered it back to its saucer and offered a small smile.

“Unfortunately not,” she replied, finding her voice.

“Nothing seemed quite right for my friend. She has rather specific tastes. I did, however, discover the most intriguing enchanted box that Evryn was kind enough to purchase for me.” Her face brightened with genuine enthusiasm.

“It had the most curious inscription. What did it say exactly, Evryn? Something about … Oh yes. ‘To the seeker of correspondence: Place your reply within and receive an answer that may change your path.’” Her eyes sparkled as she grinned. “Doesn’t that sound intriguing?”

Lady Lelianna leaned forward with visible concern, her teacup making a sharp sound as she set it down.

“That doesn’t sound entirely appropriate, dear.

” She cast a questioning glance at Evryn, her brow furrowed.

“You cannot know who might be on the other end of such correspondence. It could be someone quite unsuitable.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s just a silly enchantment, Mother,” Aurelise said. “Most likely there’s no real person involved at all. I expect the magic will fizzle out quickly and the responses will cease. But I was curious nonetheless.”

“There’s no need to worry, Mother,” Evryn said. “I spoke with the shopkeeper at length about the box’s origins. He assured me it came from a most reputable source—a retired enchanter specializing in harmless novelties. The magic is self-contained and entirely benign.”

Lady Lelianna’s expression softened with visible relief.

“Thank you, dear. I should have known you would have been thorough.” She turned slightly toward Mariselle, lowering her voice in a confidential manner.

“He’s always been remarkably attentive to his siblings’ needs.

When they were younger, if he noticed any of them having a particularly difficult day, he would sneak down to the kitchens and convince the cook to prepare their favorite meal for dinner.

Or he’d appear with just the right quip to make them laugh when they needed it most.”

“Mother,” Evryn interrupted with a pained expression, “is this the part of the tea where you share embarrassing childhood stories? Because I believe we had an agreement about that.” He straightened his cuffs with exaggerated attention, clearly uncomfortable with being the subject of such fond reminiscences.

“Hardly embarrassing,” Lady Lelianna replied with a warm smile.

“Merely illuminating.” Her gaze slid back to Mariselle.

“He’s always been my most sensitive child, you know.

Even as a little boy, he was the one who expressed his affection most readily.

He gave the most wonderful hugs—would wrap his arms around my neck so tightly as if he never wanted to let go. ”

“Mother!” Evryn’s face flushed crimson, and Mariselle had to bite her lip to contain her grin.

“Apologies, my dear, I can’t help it.” Lady Lelianna’s eyes twinkled with mischief before she composed herself once more.

An awkward silence fell over the room as the conversation stuttered. Lady Lelianna cleared her throat delicately and returned her focus to Mariselle.

“Lady Mariselle, how are your …” She appeared to grasp for words, her expression suggesting she was mentally weighing several possibilities—pr ospects? ambitions? fashion sensibilities? “Parents?” she finished, then winced as though she immediately regretted it.

“They are quite well,” Mariselle replied automatically. “Though rather … surprised by recent developments.” This seemed a diplomatic way of describing her father’s cold fury and her mother’s calculating assessment of how to exploit the situation.

“I imagine so,” Lady Lelianna said with a smile that conveyed perfect understanding. “This unexpected connection is quite astonishing for all involved.”

“‘Astonishing’ is certainly one word for it,” Rosavyn muttered into her teacup.

“Rosavyn,” Lady Lelianna admonished gently.

“Forgive me, Mother,” Rosavyn replied, not sounding remotely contrite. “I simply find it remarkable how my ordinarily courtship-averse brother has transformed into this lovesick shadow of himself. And all because of a—” She caught herself, but the word ‘Brightcrest’ hung unspoken in the air.

Mariselle took a measured sip of her tea, refusing to rise to the bait.

It was hardly a surprise that Evryn’s sister should dislike her.

In addition to the longstanding animosity between their families, it appeared that Rosavyn was a good friend of Iris’s, and she would no doubt have been aware that Mariselle had cruelly taunted her the previous Season.

“I understand the soulbond manifested during the Opening Ball at Solstice Hall,” Kazrian interjected suddenly, leaning forward in his seat.

“Was there a particular astronomical alignment that evening? I’ve been researching celestial convergences and their effects on spontaneous magical manifestations. ”

Mariselle blinked, caught off guard by the abrupt change in subject. “I … couldn’t say,” she replied. “I wasn’t precisely observing the stars at the time.”

“Of course not.” Kazrian nodded. “You were focused on the immediate phenomenon. Could you perhaps tell me about?—”

“Kazrian,” Evryn sighed, “must you approach everything like a scientific inquiry? Even matters of the heart?”

“Especially matters of the heart!” Kazrian insisted. “The intersection of emotion and magic is woefully understudied. And when you factor in the possibility of some form of cosmic confluence?— ”

“I’m fairly certain it wasn’t related to the alignment of Junivar with the fifth moon of Thackersberry,” Rosavyn interrupted dryly.

“There is no fifth moon of Thackersberry,” Kazrian replied with equal dryness.

“Snizzleberry?” she asked.

“Rosavyn.”

“I could have sworn you were prattling on about some form of celestial berry at dinner last night.”

“I believe it was a Bumbleberry,” Evryn offered with a straight face.

“Ah, yes, that was it,” Rosavyn said. “You gave us an entire speech about Professor Lumenwright’s observations regarding the twenty-seventh moon of Winkleberry.”

Poor Kazrian dragged a hand over his face, and Mariselle couldn’t help herself.

A most undignified snort of laughter escaped her before she could suppress it.

The room fell silent, all eyes turning toward her in surprise.

Rosavyn, in particular, stared as though Mariselle had suddenly sprouted wings.

“I beg your pardon,” Mariselle said quickly, mortified by her lapse in decorum. “It’s just—Thackersberry? Snizzleberry? These sound like names one might encounter in a children’s nursery rhyme.”

Rosavyn’s lips twitched. “Indeed. ‘The gnome from Thackersberry, whose nose was extraordinarily hairy,’” she improvised, her tone mockingly pompous. “‘He sneezed with such might, he took sudden flight, and now orbits the sun quite contrary.’”

Mariselle’s composure cracked entirely, genuine laughter bubbling up as she pictured the absurd image. “Can you imagine the professor’s reaction? ‘Most extraordinary! A gnome-shaped celestial body with unusual nasal properties!’”