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It wasthe dinner before her wedding. Marguerite could barely wrap her head around it. Tomorrow, she was to be wed. A bride. And married to Dr. Johann Faust. He was a kind man. Tender, and gentle. But what would he be like when they were bound together, after he had whisked her away to his home in Germany?

She could not imagine him raising his hand to her, but if there was one thing she had learned in the months since her father’s passing, it was that no one could fully know another.

Leopold.

To leave her—abandon her—to never come back, even to say goodbye? Not even to write her a letter? It made her want to cry each time she thought of it. She missed her friend dearly, and the sting of what felt like betrayal pricked her like needles.

How could he have just left her alone after what had happened?

And now, she was to be married and to leave France altogether. She would never see him again. She wept at night thinking over it. But for the moment, she had to dress, do her hair, tend to her appearance as best she could, and eat dinner with her family for the last time.

Her family.

Or what was left of it.

She felt numb and removed from the proceedings as she attended the great hall and sat next to her soon-to-be husband, who smiled warmly at her, greeted her tenderly, and kissed her hand in the fashion of a perfect gentleman.

There was a modicum of guilt she felt for how coldly she treated him in return. It was clear he adored her. But everything in her life had been upended so very quickly, and there was still something…unnerving about the alchemist. Something about him felt dangerous and unnatural.

Because he is a magician, as he said.

When she was seated and food had been served, she bowed her head slightly to Johann and spoke in a volume barely more than a whisper. “My lord, may I ask you a question?”

He chuckled. “Johann. Please. And of course. What is it?”

“When we are…” She paused. The words were still hard to force from her mouth. “When we are gone from here, I have a request. I know I am a woman, but…I think I would like to learn alchemy. Would you teach me to be a magician? I think I might greatly enjoy commanding the elements.”

For the expression on his face, one would have thought she had professed her undying love for him. His eyes went wide and then glittered in sheer joy. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, lingering in the embrace before clutching her hand beneath the level of the table. “Nothing would make me happier, Marguerite…Yes, yes, and once again yes. All that I know shall be yours to learn.”

She smiled. He would be a good husband. Perhaps being rid of her past would not be a bad thing. A new beginning in a foreign land where she could become a powerful magician. It was a storybook fantasy—one that was becoming too tempting to ignore. “I—”

The door to the great hall burst inward. There was shouting from the halls as someone stormed into the room. They were dirty, torn, and a bloody bandage wrapped the man’s side.

She flew to her feet. No matter his condition, she would know him on sight. She always would.

“Leopold!”

Her friend glowered at Johann and pointed a finger at him. “Your dark magic ends here, necromancer.”

Johann laughed. The sound sent a shiver up her spine as if death itself had entered the room.

And once more, her life was entirely upended.


Tags: Kathryn Ann Kingsley Memento Mori Fantasy