My grandmother probably saved Taren to repay a debt to the Maldoni. To return some sort of favor that they had granted her," Ginevra mused out loud. "I just have to find out what that is. I think the answer to the second term of the contract…lies in that."
Ginevra walked through the hall, her head exploding with everything that she'd heard. But, no matter how she tried, she couldn't lie to herself; as hard as it was to admit it, she barely knew the woman she called her grandmother.
A woman who loved her and cared for her these past six years. The woman who sat with her on the library floor and read with her, who unfolded the beauty of a still forest on a spring afternoon, pointing out the healing qualities of herbs and plants along the forest trails, and roasted the mushrooms and chestnuts they collected along the way in the evenings. A woman who sat and gently pointed out the errors in her sketches as they painted together in the drawing room, the winter afternoon sun caressing their shoulders and backs.
The most powerful enchantress in all of Deceris. A woman whom the entire kingdom respected and feared.
Ginevra looked down at her hands. Is any of that in me? If there was, it would have manifested a long time ago. I'm not…meant for this. I have no idea what I'm doing.
But why curse Taren? And did she not foresee this marriage, if Ginevra was the only one who could uncurse him?
Breaking this curse is the only way I can guarantee my family's safety and security.
When the tragedy occured, she was still too young to understand anything. She was whisked away too soon, the events of that night shrouded in a darkness as deep as the night that it had occurred.
But this scar under her rib was a reminder everyday of that event. That she survived, that she lived. She didn't know why it was her. How she survived that attack. But all that mattered to her now was that as the remaining heir of the Scaraveggi, she had a responsibility to protect her father, what remained of her family. She slowly saw him wither away from the grief, the accumulated debts, the risk of another deadly attack as the conflict between the warring dukedoms stretched on. And now, she needed to protect everything that remained of what she loved. She wanted to live her life in a way that would make them happy, that they did not give their lives in vain.
*******
Taren was at his desk, finishing some reports that had come in that morning. His mind flashed back to Ginevra standing over his desk. "I will find the terms for this contract. And I will break this curse. And I will return home and continue to live my life with the Maldoni protection."
His lips curved up at the sudden flashback, interrupted by the click of the door knob as Luca marched in through the door. "Do you know how much the Stregona is asking for?"
Taren's mouth immediately reassumed its firm line, as he returned to his papers without looking up. "It doesn't matter. She's officiating the ceremony." He raised his eyes at Luca, giving him a pointed look to ensure the last point came across. "Pay her what she asks for."
Luca threw a hand up into the air. "I got it, I got it. The last thing we need is another Stregona after us. But it's still draining the coffers." Then, he added mumbling, "At this rate, I should start training to be a Mage."
Eliciting no response from Taren, Luca meandered closer to Taren's desk, perching on the corner of his desk, flicking a miniature crystal globe that sat on the edge of the table.
"So…I heard another one of Prince Juliano's messengers was here." He gave the globe another flick, causing it to spin faster. "I wonder how long before they'll suspect that you're playing the neighboring kingdoms against each other." The globe spun faster. "And, how long until King Arion finds out."
The crystal globe was not used to such an exertion of kinetic energy, and without warning popped off its stand, rolled off the edge, and was headed towards its demise below.
Taren's open palm cushioned its fall a mere centimeters from the ground. He rose from his chair and started pacing the room, absent-mindedly throwing up and catching the globe in the palm of his hand.
"The Maldoni are responsible for the stability of this region. And King Arion knows that. As long as that remains so, there won't be any trouble. My father did the same." He paused in front of the large portrait which hung on the wall opposite his desk. No matter how much the portrait aged, or how often he'd looked at him, his father's gaze was no less penetrating from the day it was freshly painted. Luca's voice and the rest of the study blurred as Taren held its gaze. And I am his son. The Maldoni are never bested. He turned on his heel and strode through the door of the study, with Luca following at his heels.
The two men walked through the cold, dark corridors lit with flickering candlelight.
Luca followed at Taren's heels. "But this time, Deceris is vulnerable. It's the opportune moment for the neighboring kingdoms to be vying for the Maldoni support. King Arion might suspect you're trying to break away."
"That's why we lay low. At least, until this curse is broken."
"What if…all you need to do is fall in love?" Luca clapped his hands against each other, as if dusting them off, as a smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth. "In that case, we can forget about it and consider ourselves forsaken." They had stopped outside the door to Taren's bedroom. Taren, laying one hand on the knob, paused. He turned to Luca.
"She may have saved my life, but Francesca only had one thing in mind. Retribution. The Maldoni power was a threat to her. Love has nothing to do with it."
Luca called after him as Taren entered his bedroom. "And that's the part that doesn't add up. If she hated the Maldoni, why would she go to the trouble of saving you?
Taren walked into his room, bringing a hand to his forehead. He had hardly taken a couple steps when there was another loud knocking at his door. Reluctantly, he turned to open the door. "What is it Luca?"
Ginevra, in her nightgown, stood in the doorframe, arms folded across her body, moonlight from the corridor outlining her silhouette.
"I'd like to speak with you."