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“Frankie, it is customary for Daoine Royals to formally apply for the hand of a young…for…” He stopped himself for he could see that Frankie was not concerned with what was customary or not.

“Da, I love ye with all m’heart, but I’ve told ye and I’ll not tell ye again, I won’t have it or him.” She eyed him questioningly, “Do ye still wish me to accompany ye tonight?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” his mouth stayed open a bit as though he were about to say something else. However, he must have thought better of it and kept quiet as Frankie took him in hand and gently pushed him toward the open door of her bedroom.

“Off with ye, Da, ye are the best of all good fathers, but now, I need some time to dress,” she raised her brows.

Deimne found himself shuffled out of her room. He stood at her closed door a moment before he sensed someone at his back and turned.

Jazz was smiling at him, her arms crossed against her midriff, with an I told you so glance.

He made a strange sound and stomped down the hall of the charming Highland cottage, saying that he would wait for his daughter outdoors! Jazz looked after him, at his tucked in wings and held back a laugh, before she turned back to Frankie’s door and knocked.

“I told ye, Da, not now!”

“It’s me, Frankie,” Jazz said.

“Oh, aye then, come in,” Frankie said opening the door. She looked hard at Jazz before she pulled her inside the room and shut the door. “Did ye know? Did ye know he was planning to let that oaf of a prince court me?”

“I did, and he promised he would tell you before you left with him this evening,” Jazz said on a repressed smile. “Come on Frankie, he means well.”

“Does he now? He thinks he can decide who I should want to be with? And then, Jazz, have ye seen this? He actually wants me to wear it…” She shook a pale blue dress at Jazz and her expression was one of horror. “And I don’t want to hurt his feelings, but Jazz, I’m eighteen and this…this is a little girl’s dress.”

Jazz blinked and all at once a lovely cream colored organza cocktail dress appeared laid out on Frankie’s bed. “What about this one?” Jazz said with a wave of her hand. “I bought it for you when I went to town with Trevor earlier.”

Frankie went to the bed and picked it up with a soft gasp, “Oh, `tis lovely…” she rushed over to her closet door and opened it to gaze at the dress held against herself to in the long mirror hanging on the door, and said, “And I have just the shoes.”

“Blink everything on, sweetie, and let’s have a look,” Jazz said as she brushed her yellow bangs away from her eyes.

Frankie suddenly went stiff. She doubled over clutching the dress in her tight fists.

Jazz was on the spot, holding her, “What is it, Frankie—what?”

Frankie couldn’t speak, but she dropped the cocktail dress and held onto Jazz as her body began to shake and tremble. She would have collapsed to the floor had Jazz not held her up and maneuvered her to a nearby chair, where Jazz bent in on her knees and held Frankie steady.

Frankie struggled with herself until she got control and looked into Jazz’s eyes. “It is Pestale! Jazz, I saw something horrible. It…it hasn’t happened yet, but it will, it will.” She knew she sounded frantic, because it was how she felt. It was going to happen all over again. Pestale would come and kill and maim and they would see death everywhere.

Life, all life would be in jeopardy.

She stared at Jazz, “I saw him…in a long dark room and he was laughing. Jazz, he is at it again. He hasn’t given up as we thought. I could sense it all, but I couldn’t see anything else. I couldn’t see what he was doing…but he was grinning and he is more wicked minded than ever.”

“Frankie, you know your visions aren’t always accurate. Sometimes they are just possibilities and fate comes along and changes it all.”

“I know, I know, but this…Jazz, it was a flash of darkness and I heard a voice I have never heard before.”

“A voice?” Jazz looked concerned.

Frankie’s eyes widened as she spoke, “The most powerful inhuman, otherworldly voice. It seemed to soak up all the air and boomed over all the land…”

“Male?”

“Very, yet oddly so and it echoed in upon itself. I could hear it in my head and in my ears,” Frankie nodded vigorously. “He kept saying, darkness, darkness, darkness. Just that and nothing else.”

Jazz looked thoughtful but simply hugged and reassured her. “Okay, we know now we have to be on the alert. If your vision is correct and Pestale is planning something, we will get word to the Queen and perhaps she can get word to Crystal. But not tonight!” Jazz smiled at her. “Blink on the dress sweetie, let’s have a look.”

Frankie did just that as she did a little twirl, “Oh, Jazz…ye think of everything. I love ye.”

Jazz held her a moment and said, as she set her apart, “You beauty you!” She sighed, “You have so much ahead of you, Frankie, but now what you have to do, is go downstairs to your da, and give him a little spin so he can see that his lovely daughter is quite a grown up lady, then go and have a good time.” Jazz beamed as she moved to the door and opened it wide. “I know you think your da is throwing this prince at you, and you are not interested, but no one is forcing you into anything. Just go and do the polite thing. Find a way to enjoy yourself and make your father smile. In the end, you will only date the guys…” Jazz leaned into her. “You noted that was plural?” She laughed and did not wait for a response, “the guys, you personally find suitable. Right?”

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