Disclaimer: Anything that rings a bell belongs to J.K Rowling
"Tu es de retour! Mon ami! Tu m'as manqué!" - You've returned my friend, I've missed you!
Chapter Twenty Five: Castalia
Summer, 1913.
Castalia Thornton pushed into the pub, she didn't really think this whole running away from home thing through. She and her mother had just got into a shouting match after Castalia had discovered she had been lied to all her life, and she just needed to be anywhere but their tiny cabin in the middle of nowhere, Masachusetts.
"What can I get you, Miss?"
She was startled by the friendly barmaid, only visiting the Town a handful of times and always in the company of her mother or her nanny, Buchi. She bit her lip, pretending to think. The truth was that she didn't have any money, so she couldn't order anything.
After a few seconds of silence, the barmaid rolled her eyes and served another customer.
Castalia flushed red in embarassment as her stomach gave a mighty growl, she had been walking for hours and she was famished. She glanced at the shelves and shelves of alcohol, did Public Houses even serve food?
Though, that didn't really matter if she couldn't buy any…she glanced about, pondering what she could do to make money…
She caught a man leering at her, trying to make out her face under the hood of her cloak and she just tightened it further. She just spotted a half eaten pie behind the counter…it must have been the barmaid's…all she needed was a bite.
Suddenly the pie floated off the counter and to her. She gasped, staring around but nobody had noticed this, and she sighed, the pie falling harshly on the counter top. She had just learnt of her 'gift' last night. Today was her seventeenth birthday, and she had almost fainted when she got out of bed and half her tiny bedroom's contents were hovering around her.
She thought she must have been dreaming, especially since she had the weirdest dream last night about curses and nonsense words.
Her mother then explained to her that she was a witch, and there was a curse put on her and that's why they lived in that terrible little cottage away from civilization, because they were in hiding.
Her mother refused to disclose as to who they were hiding from, she just said that Castalia should trust her.
Trust her?
How!
Her mother had Buchi bind her magic all her life because she decided that she and her twin brother, Castor, should grow up without it! How dare she!
Castalia gasped when a nearby glass of beer shattered, and the neighbouring patrons looked around partially interested, and then quickly went back to their conversations, thankfully too drunk to notice that something had just exploded unprovoked in front of them.
"Now now, I know you Yanks are still in the process of ironing out Statute of Secrecy details, but surely the most basic principles apply here."
Castalia glanced to her left finding a thin, tall man tower over the counter. She wondered whether he was foreign, his words were weird, and he had an accent but she couldn't say what it was, and his clothes seemed to be from another age.
"Though, I also take great offence as to what your country classes as beer, so I don't blame you. Even for non-magique, it is bad."
Castalia continued frowning at the man with the thin face, his short dark beard blending into his chin length hair. He turned to face her, and she was curious as to the sharp widening of his jade green eyes when they landed on her face.
"Seraphin. Kordell Seraphin."
Castalia took the man's hand, absentmindedly shaking it, wondering what was a non-magique. She just remembered her manners. "Castalia. Thornton."
She frowned at her surname, wondering if it was even real or some fake name her mother had given them when they went into hiding. Her previous temper was dying down, and she glanced to the door, feeling slightly guilty for running off without telling her twin brother, Castor anything.
She did wonder why it was just her with magical powers, but her mother said Castor had them too, it's just the binding magic worked much better on the boy, and apparently he was also free of this apparant curse that was meant to destroy her life.
"I'm sorry, are you alright?"
Castalia wanted to answer in the affirmative but just then her stomach gave another embarrasing grumble.
The dark haired man looked at her knowingly, and without taking his eyes off her said, "Mary, please can we have a private booth, right at the back."
The old barmaid nodded with a smile, clearly sweet on the man, and Castalia hovered as he walked after the woman…should she really be dining with a stranger? And a very strange stranger at that?
Though…now that she had powers…men weren't that scary. She nodded to herself, convinced that she could keep herself safe if she followed him, and walked after them.
"We'll have two soups and two meat pies, bring them as soon as they're ready. Thank you." The man was very polite, and Castalia realised that whilst she couldn't understand his clothes - there was something distinctly foreign about them - they were very good quality. She looked self-consciously down at her well worn blue dress.
This was another thing she found infuriating about their situation. If their mother had magic, why did they live like hermits in the woods, in a tiny cabin that could barely manage her, her mother, Castor and Buchi. Why did everything she own have to be practically threadbare.
The barmaid returned with steaming bowls of soup, and Castalia practically burnt her tongue with how quickly she ate. She was glad the man didn't make idle chat, nor did he touch his food, she wondered whether he had ordered for himself just to be polite.
After a few more minutes, the barmaid showed up with the meat pies, and Castalia tucked that away just as fast. She ought to be embarrassed, she rolled her eyes just thinking what her mother would say at her behaviour. The woman was annoyingly particular about table manners.
"I beg your pardon?" The man had a small smile on his face and Castalia blushed crimson, just realising that she had, without context, rolled her eyes at him.
"Thank you." She decided a change of subject was better than an explanation, "You're very kind."
His eyes were so focused on her mouth she quickly began dusting it, sure she must have made such a mess while eating.
"I assure you, I've never been accused of such a thing before. So, Ilvermorny isn't too far away, but I'd be surprised they let you out during term time. Durmstrang was always very particular about such things."
Castalia wondered whether Ilvermorny was a school? She was home schooled, as was Castor, and she loathed every moment of it.
"I'm home schooled. Or, was, homeschooled. I'm done with school."
"Ah." Seraphin's smile widened, "As am I. I finished two years ago, you're catching me on the tail end of my grand voyage."
"Grand voyage?"
"Post-graduation trip around the globe." He looked at her curiously, "Do they not do this in the States?"
Castalia glanced around, trying to remember if she read anything about such a thing. She thought most men got a job after school, and sometimes went off to university.
"Well, whatever the case, that was an impressive bit of wandless magic you did back there."
"Wandless?" Castalia said the word slowly, almost as if she was seeing how it felt on her tongue.
Seraphin's eyes narrowed, "Yes…", and then his eyes flickered to the door, and he muttered some words very quietly, and then pulled out a long, thin, stick.
Castalia's mouth ran dry and she suddenly became very aware of the blood pulsing through her veins.
She hadn't seen anything like it, and she immediately sat forward, her nose almost touching it. "Are those…elder berries?"
"Yes…" He muttered, putting the long thin stick away. "Well, I've shown you mine?"
She looked at him blankly.
"Will you show me yours?"
She blushed at the teasing look in his eyes, "I don't have one."
"You don't have a…oh. Are you… no… you can't be a non-magique because I just saw you do magic." The man muttered almost to himself, inspecting her.
"What's a non-magique?" Castalia asked, frustrated that she was this ignorant about what she was, and feeling angry at her mother once more.
"Oh. Well, they don't possess magic. I think your lot call them no-maj's."
"My lot?"
"Americans."
"And…you are?"
He made an elaborately thoughtful face at that, "I suppose I'm a child of the world. My mother was Russian, my father was French. I myself have spent a lot of time in Scandinavia growing up."
Castalia blinked up at him, thoroughly impressed, "I've never left Massachusets."
"Well…I suppose there is benefit in sowing roots. Why, may I ask, don't you have a wand?"
"Why should I have one?"
He laughed, "Oh well that's a hot topic. I didn't know there was much of a Wandless movement in the US. I know that most African wizards are wandless, but isn't it exhausting not having one? I can't imagine having to be that intentional with my magic, all the time." His brows furrowed as he looked at her, noticing that she wasn't following what he said, "Or is there another reason you don't have one?"
She folded her hands, sitting back, "My mother. She's kept all this from me."
"All what?"
"Magic." Castalia whispered. "I only found out I can do this last night."
"That's impossible. You can't get magical abilities this late. There's extensive studies into it, if you don't present by the age of eleven you won't ever get them, it's unheard of."
"She's bound our magic, or something like that. I don't understand, any of it, really."
"Bound your magic? I've…only tenuously heard of such things, and not in the kind of books that your ministry will be very happy about. But I've never heard of this in real life. Binding a witch's magic…that's abusive. I'm so sorry."
Castalia frowned slightly at that, she wouldn't call her mother abusive. Yes, she was strict, and overprotective, but she was never cruel.
"You speak a lot about your mother, what of your father?"
Her frown disappeared, and her anger re-ignited, "Well, my mother said he was dead but now I'm not so sure." It just occured to her that perhaps the person they're meant to be hiding from was in fact, her father, for some unknown reason.
"You've never met him?"
She shook her head. "She won't even tell me his name."
"I am sorry, Castalia."
She smiled at him with gratitude, she really appreciated his kindness.
"There must be records. I can, look into it, if you like?"
"You can?"
"Yes. I mean, it would depend on where the records are kept, but…the job I'm just about to start has quite the reach."
"That would be incredible, thank you, Seraphin."
He smiled, and Castalia thought to tell him he should do that more often, he was much more handsome when he smiled, but she thought that could be taken in a negative way so she remained silent.
"My pleasure. Actually, it might be easier if you came with me, I might need very specific information, and writing at this distance is so very tedious."
"Came with you ? Where to?"
A smug expression broke on his face, and he leaned forward conspiratorially, "To the French Royal Court."
Castalia's eyes widened in wonder…a royal court.
Who was this man. Could he be a prince, and like a hero in a fairytale, he was coming to her rescue ?
She smiled…who cared about her mother's lies, she had a prince to help her now.
-x-x-x-
Turns out Seraphin was not a prince, but a courtier, and will soon be sworn in as a junior advisor to the French Royal Family. This must be a very impressive title considering all the women who curtsied to him on their walk up to the Palace.
Castalia had to remind herself every other minute to stop gaping like a fish out of water. She couldn't help it though, she had never been anywhere so…gorgeous.
"There have a few royal residences, but this is the Queen's favourite. She grew up in Normandy, so it's why she is so partial to it."
The palace was sat on a large hill on Mont-Saint-Michel, behind a beautiful abbey, completely surrounded by water. They had taken a 'floo' to this beautiful fortress from Paris, arriving in the French captital by ship from New York.
Seraphin had been most educational, teaching her all about the wizarding world. She had left a note for her mother, not telling her where she was going, but that she needed space, and for her not to look for her.
Castalia planned on finding her father, and Seraphin had promised to help her. She knew that her mother would too easily discourage her if she had told her what her intentions were…she knew she was being reckless, running off with a stranger, but these past few days Seraphin had been a fast friend and the epitome of a gentleman. And she will return home after she has gotten her answers, as angry as she was at her mother, she still loved her, and missed Buchi and Castor more and more every day.
"Seraphin…this is…" She couldn't find the words really. In a matter of hours he had shown her such splendor, the towering skyscrapers of New York, the magic of floo travel, the ins and outs of a ship, the most delicious food in Paris, and now this…Mont Saint-Michel…the seat of the French royal family.
He smiled, his jade green eyes bright in the sunlight. "It's just the start of it. There's so much more I want to show you. Teach you." He stepped forward, holding her hand tenderly, and she blushed up at him.
"Finn! Oh là là! Tu es de retour! Mon ami! Tu m'as manqué!" Castalia turned at the new voice, finding a trio of wizards walking towards them. They were all very strapping - broad shouldered and fair haired, she wondered if they were brothers.
She was now accustomed to the thick cloaks and bright colours of magical folk which she saw all about the palace this morning as Seraphin gave her a tour, but these men looked unusual in that they looked quite a lot like the men Castalia would see around her village, dressed in simple shirts and trousers. Upon closer inspection, they looked sweaty as if from manual labour, which would be uncommon for wizards, surely.
If it were not for the wand the tallest blond man had in his hand, she would have thought them non-magique. Said man's golden eyes took in Castalia unashamedly, and she glanced down, unused to being stared at so openly.
"Monseigneur." Castalia noticed that Seraphin had inclined his head at the man that spoke, who had an amused smile on his face, his light blue eyes sparkling as it fell on her. "May I introduce a friend I made in America-"
All three men raised their brows at Seraphin who ceased speaking, openly unsure about their reaction, and Castalia wondered whether it was because he spoke in English.
"Hmmm. American friend or not, she should know to respect royalty." The tallest man said, and Castalia's face flushed, not realising that this here was the owner of this beautiful palace.
She quickly curtsied to the man, seeing enough women do so to Seraphin on their way into the castle, and his face flushed in turn.
The shortest blond man laughed good naturedly, "Calm down Urbain, it is not polite to be hostile to our new friend." Her face must be blending into the red dress robes Seraphin had bought for her. She quite liked this man's voice, it was rich and deep and it made her skin tingle, his blue eyes so light it made her think of the prettiest summer days back home.
"Apologies, your grace, we only arrived a few hours ago, and there's much about our protocols that I have to teach Castalia."
"Castalia. C'est beau. And very fitting. I am Celestin. Prince Celestin. These are my friends, Urbain Sabre and Réjean Rosier." He gestured at the taller men that stood on either side of him, She realised that Seraphin had been addressing the shortest, blue eyed man this whole time, so she in turn curtsied to him."Apologies for our state of dress. We became quite accustomed to horse riding whilst on our grand voyage, it's so much more fun to travel that way than by floo."
"Fun, but innefficient." Seraphin muttered, but Castalia didn't think the others heard him as the tallest man, Urbain Sabre, stepped forward.
"Castalia? Are you of Greek origin?" Urbain was curt, and had still not taken his eyes off her and she stepped back, intimidated. She noticed that he didn't have a very strong accent when speaking English, unlike the Prince.
She shook her head in the negative, and then stopped.
She didn't actually know if she was? Her father could be Greek for all she knew. Her mother said she was Italian, and she had been taught the language, but that could be a lie too. Urbain's eyes narrowed again, and he stepped forward once more. "What business have you in court?"
"Oh come now Urbain. You're not sworn in as captain of my guard just yet. Clearly her business in court is the same as every woman here…to adorn the walls with beauty and fill the towers with tinkling laughter." Castalia couldn't help but smile at the Prince's charming words.
Seraphin cleared his throat, "Well…we best be off. I was just showing Castalia around the castle."
"Ah let me." Prince Celestin held out his arm, smirking smugly at Seraphin, "It is my castle, afterall."
Castalia glanced at Seraphin, but had already reached for the Prince's proferred arm. Surely you couldn't say no to a prince!
She could tell that Seraphin was not pleased, and she offered him a sympathetic look, but the Prince had already started talking to her, so she turned her attention to him.
-x-x-x-
He heard a knock on the door, and opened it halfway through the second.
"I'm so sorry! I know, I'm so late!"
Seraphin sighed, walking to his desk and gesturing for Castalia to take a seat too.
As one of the junior advisors to the throne, he had a small office, mostly to work on correspondence in private, but for the past few weeks Castalia and he would usually have a late afternoon snack in here. She had missed quite a few this week, and Seraphin had been sure she would miss this one as well, but he had written to her, letting her know that he may have news about her father, and he was a bit disappointed that that worked.
He liked to think their friendship was more than just mere convenience for her.
The royal family had taken to her quite quickly. Celestin was always partial to a pretty face and his mother, his only living parent, was always partial to giving her son exactly what he wanted. Now that Celestin was done with his Grand Voyage, he was to take up the duties of the ruling monarch, and the castle was preoccupied with getting his coronation ready.
"How are you?" She asked, a wide smile on her face that easily melted any annoyance Seraphin could muster.
"Happy to be done with Coronation invites." He smiled, flexing his right hand and he appreciated the concerned look she had given him. She reached forward, taking his hand in hers, holding it closer to her face so as to inspect it for injury and suddenly Seraphin grabbed her hand in turn. "What's this?"
He of course…knew what it was.
Even in the poorly lit, cramped room, the ring shone brightly.
Castalia opened her mouth, and then closed it, her face rosier than ever. "Celestin wanted to tell you first. You must act surprised when he does! Please!"
"He's asked you to marry him?"
She nodded, letting out a squeal! "He took me over to the Abbey. The non-magique one. He knows such interesting things, he was telling me about how they think an angel-"
"I just realised I have another appointment." Seraphin stood abruptly, knowing he couldn't listen to another word of this.
"Oh, of course, it's the middle of the work day for you." Castalia stood, turning to the door and walking to it, and then stopped, "Oh, you said you had information about my father?"
Seraphin didn't know why he had done it, it was very petty and immature of him, but before he could think on it more he responded lightly, "Oh, I thought I did, but after double checking it's nothing."
"Ah." Her face fell and Seraphin immediately felt guilty.
"I'll keep at it, of course."
She looked up at him, her midnight blue eyes brimming with appreciation, "Thank you. I'm so fortunate for our friendship."
He cleared his throat, nodding her out, and slumped against the closed door.
Well, he couldn't tell her that she was potentially related to Italian nobility now, one who also had a link to the French court. He had traced her mother's name, Belladonna, to a name in the Tiberion family in Naples, the late duke had a French wife whose family, the Serpentards, had served at French court for centuries. If that was really her mother, that would make Castalia a very eligible option for marriage, and currently as it stood, even if Celestin had proposed to her, none of his advisors would accept an American commoner as his wife, so Seraphin had to keep her that way.
He moved back to his table and groaned aloud.
If he had to make their wedding invitations too he swears he'd burn this castle to the ground.
-x-x-x-
Gabrielle Sabre supported the younger woman as she bent over, coughing. Despite looking much better than yesterday, she still wasn't sure if it was time to get out of bed, "Your grace, perhaps another day of rest."
Queen Castalia gave her closest friend a sharp look, "It's my daughter's eleventh birthday."
"Celestine would rather you were better, than if you were there."
"I know you practically raise my daughter in my stead, but please don't deign to know her better than me."
Gabrielle sighed, knowing that her friend didn't mean to be unkind. She was just frustrated. Queen Castalia's health had been troubling her on and off since she had her daughter, Celestine. The best healers in the country visited, but none could explain why the Queen would experience such a grave sickness. She would be bedridden, in and out of consciousness for weeks on end, that would also come and go, unpredictably.
Gabrielle herself had been inspired to take up healing as a profession, so as to try and help her friend, and Queen. Her husband, Urbain, as well as being best friend to the king, was also captain of his guard, like every man of his family was for twelve generations before him. They were close to the couple, and loved them very much.
Her heart went out to the Queen, who had worked so hard to be accepted by her husband's countrymen.
After going against some of his most loyal advisors, King Celestin had been allowed to marry Castalia, and they quickly welcomed a baby girl, Celestine, and for a few years they were the picture of perfection, an inspiration to their constituents, single handedly justifying the existence of royalty in the wizarding world, with their beauty, grace, and kindness.
"I'm sorry." The dark haired woman looked abashed in the mirror, Gabrielle's gold locks clashing beautifully with the Queen's dark mane.
"Your grace, you need not apologise. I only urge you to rest out of concern."
The Queen sniffed, "I know. It's just, I might not be there for her twelfth. And I'd just like to…see her. With her cake. And her candles. And the singing."
"Of course your grace." Gabrielle helped the Queen into her gown. "Have some of this." She offered the woman the potion she had learned to brew from a visiting Portuguese healer. "We must be careful with how often you take this, too much and it will stop working. But this should give you strength for today."
The Queen smiled weakly at her, "Merci."
The women barely stepped out of the chamber when they were descended on by the loud laughter that preceded the two naughiest girls in all of France. The shorter one ran straight into the queen, her long tawny hair fluttering about her, "Maman!"
"Tine! What did I say about running!"
"That it's not ladylike."
"Yes!"
"But maman, what is the problem? Surely as princess it is I who dictates what is ladylike, and not the other way around." Celestine smirked and Castalia couldn't help smiling down at her headstrong daughter, shaking her dark hair at the two girls.
"Sorry, your grace." The taller of the two, Catherine Seraphin, gave a low curtsy, her flame hair catching on the lamplight of the corridor.
"It is quite alright Catherine. I know you are merely follower in Tine's mischief."
"Mischief! You wound me, maman!"
Gabrielle shook her head at the young girl's antics. She adored the princess too, but she got away with far too much.
Just then she heard a loud swear from a familiar voice and Gabrielle ran down the corridor.
"Silvestre!"
"Maman!" Her eldest son turned red at being caught mid-curse. Gabrielle refrained from chiding him for his language, seeing as he was currently coated in what seemed to be honey, and she had some empathy for his sticky situation.
"Vez!" Celestine mock gasped, "What on earth are you doing covered in honey?"
He scowled at the girl who was just a month his junior, "Is this-" He gestured at the jar of honey that was floating upturned above his head, "- because I told you you'd catch more flies with honey, than with vinegar, when you were fighting with the Lestranges. You can't fight with boys twice our size! I'm not old enough to protect you yet!"
"Ha! Protect me!" The princess rolled her large, midnight blue eyes, "The only thing you can protect me from are flies." She grinned as one landed on the boy almost to prove her point.
"What's going on here. Sabre! Why are you covered in honey!" Seraphin snapped at the boy. He was the children's master of magic, as well as senior advisor to the throne.
Gabrielle straightened her back when she saw him, her husband and he were not friendly, despite both being close to the King and Queen. Urbain thought the man untrustworthy.
Seraphin had been away from the castle for the past two months, and had only returned last night.
Silvestre opened his mouth, and then shut it. No matter what Celestine did to her son, he never ever told on her. And she did a lot.
"Go get clean before next lesson. As for you, young lady." The tall wizard glowered down at the tawny haired girl, walking towards her slowly, and then opened his hand, a small jewellery box sitting in his palm, "Happy birthday, Princess." He smiled and the girl ran forward, hugging him tightly.
"You shouldn't reward her for her bad behaviour." Castalia chided despite her large smile. She just caught up with them, greeting her old friend with customary kisses on his cheek.
"Bad behaviour? That was evidence of the most exquisite summoning charm I've ever witnessed. Was that from the Apiary to the south of the abbey? You. Are. Remarkable."
Celestine smiled smugly and the women shook their heads. Gabrielle just noticed that Catherine watched as her father complimented her best friend, not even acknowledging her. It had been a difficult year for the girl, she had yet to show any magical ability, and her father had been taking terribly dangerous means of trying to get her to display. It got to the point that Gabrielle's husband, Urbain, had to urge the King to intervene, lest the child break any more bones being pushed from high towers.
"Catherine, could you help me with some of the decorations for the party. I'm not very good with balloons." Catherine's green eyes widened at being addressed by the queen, and then quickly nodded, happy to help. Gabrielle smiled at the girl too, knowing that the Queen had a fondness for her. Catherine's mother had died at childbirth, and Gabrielle had not known her well. She had a feeling Seraphin didn't care much for the woman, wedding for duty rather than love. Urbain had a theory that he was in love with the queen, but Gabrielle couldn't see how, when the queen was so enamoured by the king.
Gabrielle followed the queen and Catherine down the hall, glancing back at Seraphin who remained with Celestine. She frowned, contemplating staying behind but she didn't want to leave the Queen unattended in her fragile state.
She watched Seraphin's green eyes glitter as they stared, transfixed, at the yapping girl in front of him… perhaps Urbain wasn't being paranoid afterall. She'd have to tell him a closer eye needs to be given to the royal princess now that she is nearing womanhood…
A/N: I thought this was a good place to stop. Were you surprised to find Silvestre appear in Ky's memories of her 'past'! Perhaps their place in each other's lives are not merley coincedence…
Thank you so much for reading! Reviews are much appreciated.
Kalina