Return to Me - By Morgan O'Neill Page 0,33

her heart.

His advisors fell back, stunned, as Silvia dropped to the floor, dead.

Honorius looked at the old witch, Dipsas, who had not moved a muscle.

She gave him a gap-toothed grin. “Indeed,” she said as she clapped her hands in delight. “Honorius the Merciful.”

Chapter 9

Barcelona, Spain

The end of winter felt more like spring, and Gigi reveled in the wonderful weather. Outside, the air had a warm, velvety quality, the birds sang endlessly, and the skies were a brilliant blue, day after day. And thankfully, each pleasant moment seemed to lift Placidia’s spirits a little bit more. Recently, she’d exchanged some of her heaviest mourning gowns for lighter, happier colors, and her gorgeous pearl necklace was free of its dark, gauzy shroud. But she was still very quiet and withdrawn, so Gigi was pleased when she agreed to spend the afternoon with her.

The castle’s solarium was bright and sunny, indoors and yet not. Attached to the main building, an open-air colonnade surrounded them, but they were protected from the sun’s rays by an expansive roof. Gigi would have liked to sunbathe in such wonderful weather, but ivory complexions were prized here, and catching a few rays in the buff certainly was not.

Whether queen or commoner, there was always sewing to be done, and the two friends worked side by side, enjoying each other’s company. Placidia sat quietly beside Gigi, the queen’s little three-year-old, Marga, between them, happily swinging her feet. Gigi found herself studying Marga. She couldn’t get over how much the little towheaded girl looked like Athaulf’s mother, Randegund.

The eyes especially. Gigi wanted to mention this to Placidia, but she bit her tongue, reluctant to bring up Placidia’s evil mother-in-law. Besides, Marga’s gaze shone with innocence, her blue eyes pretty and bright, not the least bit scary, like Randegund’s had been.

As to the whereabouts of Randegund, Gigi guessed the truth, but she knew enough not to ask Placidia about that, either.

“I wrote to Theo, Mama,” Marga piped.

“You are a good big sister,” Placidia replied. “What did you tell him?”

“About Gigi.”

“About me?” Gigi asked.

Marga leaned against her and smiled, her eyes twinkling. “I like your music.”

“Thank you,” Gigi replied as the child got up and started dancing around the room, her little, dimpled arms upraised. She glanced at Placidia, worried how she felt about Theo’s mention. The queen seemed to be taking it in stride.

“We write letters to him,” Placidia explained, her head still bent over her work. “Actually, for now, Marga draws pictures.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Gigi said, not knowing what else to say.

“Magnus taught me that.”

Startled, Gigi turned and looked at the queen. “He taught you how to write letters?”

“No, no,” Placidia replied with a hint of amusement. “I have not thought to ask you before, but family weighs heavily on my heart, lately. Tell me, if you don’t mind, about your family?”

Gigi felt a stab of pain in her chest. “My parents are gone,” she murmured, wondering how permanent that statement might become. She glanced at her gold wedding band, once her mother’s, now hers, a memento to cherish and protect.

“Gigi, forgive me,” Placidia said, “but I have noticed that … and wondered about your new ring, and the fact Magnus now wears the garnet ring.”

“This ring was my mother’s,” Gigi said, holding it out for Placidia’s inspection. “I wear it now in memory of her.”

“Ah,” the queen said. “I understand. It is a wonderful gesture.” She smiled. “Forgive me again, but I have another question. How can it be you and Magnus do not have children of your own?”

Gigi looked up and shrugged. “I don’t know. It just never happened. Maybe I’ve been too busy.”

“When has ‘too busy’ ever stopped a babe?” Placidia chuckled, then took Gigi’s hand in hers and watched her daughter prance about. “I am sure you will be blessed, one day. I pray Athaulf and I are not yet done, and that we will have more beautiful sons. Not to replace our Theo, of course, but others.”

Gigi tried to mask her knowledge and smiled at her friend. “I hope so, I truly hope so.”

Placidia sighed. “Death is a harsh, implacable master, but I take some comfort in knowing my son is with God, and with my parents. My mother was an angel on Earth, and now she is one truly, looking over my dear boy. She died when I was very young.”

Gigi listened to Placidia’s recollections, glad that she was opening up, and realized no matter how hard she and Magnus had tried to save