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It seemed clear that Margorie spoke about both her own life and Charlotte’s. Charlotte heaved a sigh, dropped her shoulders back, and blinked up at the far wall. Time ticked slowly between them.
Finally, Florentia and Louisa reappeared in the doorway. Louisa’s cheeks were drenched with tears; Florentia’s hand wrapped around Louisa’s shoulder as she whispered, “You’re going to find it. You must maintain your hope.”
“I don’t know if I can,” Louisa returned, sniffling.
Florentia pulled Louisa around, gripping her other shoulder. She peered into Louisa’s eyes with such ferocity that Charlotte felt as though Louisa might fall to the ground.
“I see such goodness in you, Louisa. Such light. Cling to it. Don’t allow anyone to affect it. Push yourself forward when you’re fatigued; find something to cling to above ground.”
At this, Florentia’s eyes fluttered back towards Charlotte. She seemed to pin her as the source of the darkness. Charlotte yearned to roll her eyes back, yet didn’t want to prove the woman correct.
“Thank you. Thank you for everything,” Louisa whispered, her voice rasping.
“Of course, darling. Remember to perform your meditations in the evening, to think hard about what we’ve discussed,” Florentia continued. “And you must ensure you bring more tea home with you, for preparation in both the morning and evening. Only then can you ground your aura.”
Louisa nodded. She stepped delicately back towards her chair without making eye contact with Charlotte. Florentia then swept her palms together and blinked towards Charlotte.
“Who’s next?”
Charlotte swallowed the lump in her throat. It wasn’t as though she was nervous; that was outside the bounds of reason.
“I suppose I’ll go,” Charlotte affirmed.
“I expected that you’d find a way out of this,” Louisa muttered darkly.
Charlotte furrowed her brow. “No. I want to know.”
“It’s a marvellous thing for me to watch as a woman with such a dark heart searches for the light,” Florentia sang. She stretched her arms wide in welcome, as Charlotte marched towards her.
The mystic led her towards the room on the far end of the hallway. It was decorated similarly to the drawing room: with various cultures peppered about in multiple forms, rugs and statues and paintings.
Florentia gestured towards the large, cushioned yellow chair in the corner and said, “Sit. Calm your mind. I can feel it racing far too quickly.”
“I suppose that isn’t such a strange thing to guess,” Charlotte returned. “That my mind isn’t entirely sure which thought to latch onto first. That’s the nature of new experiences, isn’t it?”
Florentia arched one of her perfectly-manicured brows. As Charlotte dropped into the yellow chair, she drew a hand beneath her chin and squinted.
“Is this simply what you do? Orchestrate every conversation so that you can win it?” Florentia asked.
Charlotte was stunned at the strange similarity between these words and the ones Margorie had only just uttered. Her smile fell as Florentia dropped into her own chair across from her.
“I have met many doubters over the years,” Florentia affirmed. “Countless.”
“And what do you do when you encounter them?” Charlotte asked.
“I know that there’s very little I can do to convince them otherwise,” Florentia said. “I listen to the signs of the universe; I tell them what’s simmering in the air between us. If they want to use it—they use it. If they don’t wish to, they leave it.”
“How kind of you to lend your hand to so many doubters,” Charlotte said.
Florentia chuckled softly. “You know as well as I that this further operates as a business. They pay me out of curiosity. As you are.”
“I suppose so,” Charlotte said.
“Although a great deal of the reason you’re here is because you wish to support your friend, who you perceive to be silly.”
“I don’t suppose it’s entirely strange to have caught that, given what occurred in the room before.”
“No. I haven’t fully begun to analyze you yet. This is all person-to-person. I’m settling you in the room,” Florentia said.
