Kingdom in The Sand

Fortunes

The entire audience straightened when the spotlight went out of The Black Rabbit. The Fortune Teller act wasn't that common a performance, but it left its mark, though only really after the fact.

Because everything she predicted always came true. No one ever got to request their fortune, but she still pinpointed what concerned people most. Or what they really needed to be made aware of – usually good, not always. It was why people were aware of the act even if they'd never seen it, the truth of the fortunes coming true later meant word was always being spread.

Marie-Fey had seen the fortune teller once, during the first show she'd seen. During that night, the fortune teller had predicted that Marie-Fey would need to lock her bedroom door the following week. She had been right, of course, because someone had broken into the house and reached her bedroom, attempting to get in when the staff had caught him – following the prediction to her father that he would need to keep his guards ready that night as 'something unwelcome would venture out of the shadows.'

Come to think of it, that same show, the fortune teller had predicted that Rosalia needed to become accustomed to amphibians, that it would do her good in the future – now if that wasn't a suggestion of true power, Marie-Fey didn't know what was.

She had also predicted the beginnings of their mother's illness that night, stressing that it was of the utmost importance that she saw her doctor on the first day of the following month. It hadn't helped in the end – there was nothing anyone could do, but it meant that she'd had warning.

"Dear?" Zaydan asked, his voice low.

Marie-Fey shook her head and looked towards the ring again as the spotlight flickered on and the fortune teller was revealed, exactly like Marie-Fey remembered. Sat at a table draped in purple velvet, a set of cards laid out before her. She was dressed in more purple, the gown made of flowing silk, with a headdress that shielded her face, casting it in shadow.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," she greeted, her voice soft yet carrying. "I hope you have had the most enjoyable night. Tell me, who would care to have their fortune told first?"

A man's hand shot into the air in the seats behind her and she picked up a card without hesitation. "Mr. Rigger. You have a business deal coming up. One, in particular, that gives you pause. I would suggest you go with the option that everyone warns you against."

The man put his hand down, looking relieved.

A young woman put her hand up, the motion hesitant and another card was drawn.

"Mrs Wocombe, you shouldn't underestimate your talents. You are going to face adversity every step of the way, but the academic world will not benefit without you. I suggest you strive on."

The woman put her hand down, hand to her heart, looking almost sick with worry despite the words and the man beside her put his hand up.

"Mr. Wocombe, you will live more than long enough to be her most valuable supporter."

He put his hand down and wrapped his arm around his wife, hugging her tight against him as a ripple of curiosity moved through the crowd before it was swept into the next question. On and on the answered went, talks of romances, business, life choices, health, concerns, so on and so forth.

Almost no one was given a truly straightforward statement – though Lord Winsley was warned point-blank that the woman his family was considering marriage for him would ruin the family wealth and he was advised, post-haste, to secure a marriage with Lady Michaels.

Which caused huge stir as Lady Michaels was sat a mere ten seats away.

Gharam's hand shot into the air when the questions started to work their way around to their side of the audience, her eyes bright with curiosity.