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"Please, sit," he gestures to a cushioned chair in the center of the room. As I take my seat, a wave of vulnerability washed over me and I suddenly worry. What if Sybil sees my treachery and tells Fiero?
He begins to speak, and I begin to sense that the powerful man can read my thoughts. “Whatever we discuss here will remain between us. It is not my place to interfere with the fates or share your secrets with others."
I nod, grateful for his discretion, even though the thought of opening up to a stranger terrifies me. I’ve only ever had Serafina tell me my fortune, and I know her better than I anyone in the world, except for Papà.
My throat hurts from the lump forming in it, and with a trembling chin, I tell him my father was killed.
He sits opposite me and takes my hands in his own. "Your father's tragic end troubles you deeply," the Seer begins, his eyes searching mine. "Tell me what has brought you such anguish."
I swallow hard, struggling to find the words. "I watched my father be tortured, heard him die," I confess, my voice barely a whisper. "His death was brutal...senseless. And I couldn't do anything."
Sybil's expression softens with empathy. "Witnessing such violence is a heavy burden to carry."
"It's not just that," I continue, tears welling in my eyes. "I never got to say goodbye. His body was taken away without me ever seeing it, and I don't know where he is now. I could never give him the funeral and respect he deserved. I fear for his soul, and I can't shake the feeling that I've failed him somehow."
"Ah, child," the Seer says gently, "you cannot be held responsible for the actions of others, nor can you control the fate of your father's soul. But I understand your need for answers."
"Is there any way to know if he's at peace?" I ask, desperate for some reassurance. "Can you see his spirit?"
"Perhaps a séance might provide some more answers," the Seer suggests hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Please," I beg, my voice cracking with desperation at this new hope. "Whatever you need to do.”
Sybil closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, his hands resting lightly on my own. A shiver runs down my spine as he seems to reach beyond the veil of our reality.
"Your father's soul is elusive," he says after a moment, his voice distant. "It’s unfathomable what I say, but it’s almost like he hasn’t reached the other world. But that does not mean he is lost. Perhaps he doesn’t wish to be found. Perhaps he’s still with the living world, in some way, to watch your life unfold. Sometimes, we must accept that not all souls are meant to be found."
"Then what am I supposed to do?" I plead, frustration and despair boiling over. "How can I move forward when I'm haunted by these questions?"
"Sometimes, it is in accepting the unknown that we find our strength," Sybil replies, his gaze intense. "Your father will show himself to you when the time is right. But for now, child, he might not wish to be found. It is rare, when one dies, for me not to feel them. Strange, indeed…” he mutters, a small frown on his face. “Your father must have had a powerful will to hide from us as he does. For now, Romola, just know his fate is in his hands, and he will do with it what he pleases. That, perhaps, should bring you some comfort.”
Sybil's words echo in my head, and I begin to understand the truth in his wisdom. Perhaps it is time to let go of the questions that have haunted me and make peace with Papà’s own choices and destiny.
Sybil still holds my hands in his, and I close my eyes, allowing myself space for acceptance to wash over me. I feel sadness, disbelief, anger, and then some peace at the fact that there is power in realizing my helplessness.
Papà doesn’t want to be found, and I can’t force him. Maybe this is his way of telling me to move on.
I open my eyes and almost jump out of my chair. Sybil is staring right at me, but his eyes turn white, his pupils to the top of his eyes. It’s like he’s not here.
“Sybil?” I ask, feeling the blood rush to my extremities. He begins to shiver suddenly, and I feel his hands turn cold right in my hands.
Impossible. What’s going on?
I try to wrench my hands out of his, and suddenly, he gasps, his vision clearing as his eyes meet mine. He’s back, and to my disbelief, his hands are instantly warm in mine.
“Romola,” he tells me gravely. "There’s something I saw that concerns both you and Fiero.”
My heart skips a beat at the mention of Fiero's name, a flicker of fear igniting within me. Did he see why I’m in Fiero’s life? Does he wish to expose me as the thief I am?
I try to steady my voice, masking the tremor that threatens to betray my composure. "What is it that you saw, Sybil?" I inquire, my eyes locked onto him, searching for any hint of what might come next.
“My dear, first, I must fetch Fiero. There’s nothing I need to tell you without his being present.”
Could this have something to do with Rafaele? The mere thought sends me over the haze of panic. Suddenly, the fear of losing Fiero becomes very real, and I almost begin to tremble with fear.
“Please, just a clue…” I ask.
Sybil looks at me with a deep understanding and gently leans forward, locking his gaze on mine. “Child, I swear it. What I have to say will not harm this love you share between you.”
