Hansel grunted and looked around the room with a critical eye. This room stank of having had a decorator do the job instead of the house owner. It made him ask questions about why the woman didn’t decorate it herself, but otherwise the room told him nothing about her.

Didn’t like decorating?

Too busy to care?

Wanted to hide what she’s like behind someone else’s taste and touch?

“How much do you think she’ll ask for?”

“You should be asking if she’ll accept.”

Abel rolled his eyes.

“Unless she wants to be dragged to the dungeons and do the job just to get out, she’ll cooperate.”

Hansel stood stiffly by the fireplace, looking at the only item in the room that wasn’t chosen by a decorator.

It was an old photograph of two women.

They looked so alike that he was sure they were related. Sisters or cousins, though he was betting on twins. Neither was smiling, simply enduring the other’s presence. Or maybe impatient with being propped up and forced to hold still for hours while the photographer did his job.

He picked it up to look at it more closely.

“It’s rude to touch other people’s things.”

Abel bounced to his feet, startled by the sudden intrusion into the room. Hansel simply put the photograph back and bowed to the old woman who came in.

“My apologies, Madam.”

She sniffed and pointed a cane at him.

“You carry death with you.” She looked at Abel, turning her cane on him too. “And you, Your Highness, are nothing but a facade and a charlatan. Take that ring off this instant.”

Abel blushed and fumbled as he pulled the ring off.

“Now.” The old woman leaned on her cane and held up the missive. “What is this?”

“Exactly as it says.”

She snorted. It was an unladylike sound but who was going to tell the psychic that?

“You shouldn’t snort, Madam,” said Hansel dryly.

“I’m old. I’m allowed to do as I wish. As it happens, I knew the King would be mucking in my life today so I left my afternoon open. If you’ll follow Nancy to the seance room-”

She gestured with the cane.

“We’re not here to contact the dead, Madam Anabella,” said Hansel stiffly as the woman came up beside him.

He took a step back, resisting the urge to wrinkle his nose.

“I’m aware of that. But if you don’t want to be haunted by the dead, I suggest you cooperate.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “More haunted than you already are, that is.”

Hansel gritted his teeth, bowed his head, and followed the female butler out of the room. He did glance back once and saw Anabella straighten the picture and mutter something at it.

Finally.

A room that reflected the house owner.

While Hansel looked around at gauzy wall hangings, candle stands and various knickknacks that only looked like artifacts, Abel leaned on a chair back and chatted with the butler.

“How did such a lovely woman come to work here? And as a butler?”

“Does it bother you that I'm both a butler and a woman?”

“Of course not, love. I just think there’s a story behind it.”

Hansel huffed under his breath.

It was no wonder Gretal half didn’t believe Abel wasn’t cooperating about a second wife. The man could flirt with any pretty woman with an ease that made other men ill.

The Madam took her time following them. During which Hansel half listened to a conversation where the butler tried repeatedly to direct Abel to other subjects. Until she finally just answered with, yes, no, and hmm.

It was a rare occasion where Abel couldn’t flirt his way into a woman’s confidence, and it made Hansel smirk to himself.

When the Madam finally arrived, she didn’t acknowledge either of the men until she’d swept past and taken her seat. Which was the ornate, sturdy chair. Leaving the plain chair across the table open.

“You.” She pointed at Abel. “Since this is on behalf of his Majesty, you will take the reading.”

Meekly, Abel sat down in the peasant chair.

“Nancy, bring me my crystal ball.”

The butler set the ball in the middle of the table on a stand. It was so huge that it covered half of the Madam’s face from Abel’s viewpoint. He had to swallow a chuckle upon seeing the Madam’s deformed lower jaw.

“Something funny, Your Highness?”

“N-no, of course not, Madam Anabella!”

“Hmph. Put your hands on the ball with me. No, not like that. Nancy, help him.”

It took a moment but finally they were both ready.

Hansel was appreciating how quick this visit was going. The woman didn’t waste time, he could give her that. And if it weren’t for each rush of magic he felt when she accessed her gift, he might’ve grudgingly respected her.

He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth against the biggest rush so far. It brushed against him. It wasn’t any more annoying than a light breeze, but his intense hatred for it made it difficult for him to hold still.

If he could’ve lashed out at it with one of his weapons, he would gladly reap down every last filthy magical breeze he could.

The Madam said nothing.

When Hansel opened his eyes, he found her frowning intently into the ball. Every second the frown deepened until her face had gone from gracefully aging to anciently lined.

She pursed her lips.

“Your King was right to send you.”

She dropped her hands to the table, clenched them, and let them go as she relaxed her face.

“What did you see?”

“The Grand High Witch.”

Hansel hadn’t expected the woman to tell them so directly, especially since they’d disclosed no details beyond whatever the King had put in his letter.

But, then again, she was the most powerful fortune teller on the continent. Maybe he would have been surprised if she hadn’t seen anything at all.

“What about her?” Hansel asked when no one seemed inclined to continue.

The Madam sighed and closed her eyes. She leaned back her head slightly and Nancy stepped anxiously forward.

But whatever the butler was afraid of didn’t happen.

“There was much. Death. A change in power. The King lying in his gore.” She opened her eyes and pointed at Abel. “You went to Duke Wellington’s manor, yes?”

“Ah, yes?”

“Foolish. You stepped right into their curse. Tell your wife that even if you take a second, you’re the one who’s the problem. Only a witch can help you now.”

Abel looked stunned. He sat back and gaped in mute horror.

“Now get out of that chair. The rest is for you, oh hateful one.” She waved at Hansel, who raised an eyebrow. “What? Do you think royalty are the only ones who hold power over the future? Sit.”

Abel, still looking like he’d gotten food poisoning, got out of the chair and stumbled to the door. Where he leaned against it and covered his face with one hand.

Hansel reluctantly sat.

“Nancy, remove the ball. Bring me pack 13.”

Nancy had reached for the ball when she flinched.

“13, Madam? Are you sure?”

The Madam gave her an icy stare, and the woman flinched again and looked away.

“Right away, Madam.”

Hansel watched as the ball was returned to its stand. Then the butler opened a secret drawer in an end table and removed a pack of tarot cards. An old pack. He saw right away how yellow and faded the cards were as soon as Nancy set it down in front of the fortune teller.

Madam Anabella didn’t open the pack right away. Staring Hansel down.

“It’s a dangerous profession, boy. Running after the nasties.”

“Yes.”

 “How many times have you been cursed?”

He didn’t answer, and a mocking smile curved up one side of her mouth.

“They swirl around you like moths. You are a light to them. You attract them. You must clear them if you don’t want them to finally land.”

“As you told his Highness, only a witch could help me now.” Hansel smiled coldly. “And I won’t be asking a witch for anything.”

“How wise of you.”

The woman picked up the pack of cards and opened them. Although it had, at first, looked like all old cards, the inside deck was surprisingly varied in old and new cards. Without looking at them, she mixed them then spread them out on the table.

“Pick three.”

His skin crawled with revulsion and the feeling of magic.

Gritting his teeth and cursing Farbrace, he reached for three random cards. Then shoved them toward the fortune teller.

She smiled and gathered all the cards into two decks without looking away from him. Putting away the bigger one, she finally looked down and picked up the three he’d chosen.

Without waiting, she turned over the first card.

The witch.

Brown hair, blue eyes. Holding a lit candle in one hand, smiling enchantingly, the young and pretty witch reached out to the viewer. Like she was blowing a spell at them.

He expected Madam Anabella to explain the card, but she simply ignored it and turned over the second card.

“This is Justice.” The woman tapped it. “You are a man of black and white and will face choices of right and wrong, good and bad. The sword that carries these decisions will cut and cut deep. So be wise and take off your blindfold.”

“Any hints for what I should look for?”

She gave him a flat look then turned over the third card.

“Interesting.”