“That does not count,” she said.
“It does.”
“It can’t remain absolutely still, Hector.”
“It can,” he said. “Allow me.”
She released the coin and he extended his hand. It floated between them, but this time it was absolutely still. Then he moved but two fingers, and the coin flew to his waiting palm.
“If you are going to perform a task, perform it properly, Nina. Do not cut corners or give it a halfhearted try,” he said.
“I did try to do it properly. I spent hours practicing last night. I told you.”
“That may well be, but you must practice more.”
Nina crossed her arms. She did not like him when he was like this, and truth be told, he was a rather exacting teacher. She thought he did it to scare her off and dissuade her from telekinetic tricks, but sometimes she thought he did it for another reason altogether, one she did not comprehend.
“You can be better,” he said as if guessing her thoughts. “It is for that reason I want you to push forward.”
“Fine. I’ll practice tonight. I’ll do it so well, why … I’ll beat you at it!”
“And I’ll be very humbled.”
She smiled and looked out the window. It was a sunny spring day, and when they reached a wide avenue decorated with the bronze statues of notable citizens of Loisail, she looked at the beautiful flowers bordering the pavement, jasmines and tulips in darling colors.
They went by the fountain with its nymphs, all three holding their hands in the air, and stopped at the main entrance of the Natural History Museum, which she’d visited but once with Valérie, who had not liked it at all because it was an older building, rather cluttered. Nina thought it a fabulous place, a treasure trove. Most people marveled at the large animals: the impressive tiger about to attack or the bear frozen in its tracks, both wonders of taxidermy set against a painted backdrop. Nina preferred the smaller specimens. The insects like jewels upon black velvet.
They did not have time to pause and look at the pretty beetles or the delicate butterflies on this occasion, because the lecture was about to begin. They made their way to a room filled with many chairs and sat in the back.
The lecturer was Lise van Reenen, a naturalist who was noted as a butterfly collector. The talk that day was on the caddisfly, which lived near bodies of water and spun a cocoon of silk. Nina was impressed by Lise’s delivery and the way she commanded the room.
When the lecture was over and they walked outside the museum, she remarked on this point.
“Some people, I think, are born to speak in public and know how to manage every word and gesture. As she did, as you do when you perform,” she told Hector.
“It’s not innate talent. It is practice, like dealing cards without touching them or making coins hover in midair.”
“You make it seem easy.”
“It’s part of the trick. Do not reveal your inner thoughts, nor fears.”
Men in black coats walked along the boulevard, and women held white parasols over their heads. It was suppertime and the restaurants were bursting with customers. He must take her home soon.
“We will leave for the summer in a couple of weeks,” she said, because this thought had been darting inside her head since early in the day. “We are to go to Oldhouse, Valérie and I. Gaétan will join us at one point, as he likes to spend at least ten days in the countryside during the warm months.”
“When will you return?”
“In three months’ time and no sooner. My family misses me, and besides, Valérie says the city is not fit for living in the summer.”
Nina did not understand how this could be, considering that Cousin Gaétan managed to stay in Loisail for many weeks during the summer, overseeing his business affairs, but it seemed that when one could manage, one should abandon the metropolis, and none of the smart ladies would abide to be seen walking down the boulevards at that time of year.
“I was thinking you might visit us at Oldhouse,” she said. “You could stay for as long as you like. We are hospitable and it is a pleasant place.”
“I’m sure it is, but I will remain in the city for most of the summer.”
“But not all of it?”
“My friend Étienne is going to Bosegnan, where his fiancée’s summer home is located, and I shall be going with him to meet the fiancée in question, who has been abroad for the better part of the year.”
“That is perfect!” Nina exclaimed. “You must cross Montipouret in order to reach Bosegnan, and a few days in Oldhouse would not alter your course. Your friend is welcome to stay with us. We would all be jolly. I’ve grown accustomed to our talks and would miss you if I were not to see you for months on end.”
“You may write to me.”
“Bah. A letter is not the same at all. I’d have to write a dozen a day in order to keep you well informed. You know how I go on. Won’t you join us at Oldhouse?”
“It’s a serious request,” he said, and his face was grim, as though she’d asked him to witness an execution with her. He was like this; a dark cloud would periodically blot out the sun and drain all mirth from his body. She did not understand it.
“‘Serious’? It’s a summer getaway in the countryside. Must you be gloomy about everything?” she asked. He was vexing her. She had thought he would be pleased at the idea and now found herself considering that he might not want to spend an extensive number of days with her.
Hector did not reply and she glanced away, looking at the patrons who sat outside a café in the afternoon sun. Her lips trembled.
“I’ll go,” he said with a sigh, his hand resting upon her arm.
“No, you must not feel obligated to me,” she murmured.
His hold on her tightened and he pulled her aside, under the awning of a hat shop. “Nina, I want to go with you,” he said.
She knew by now he was the kind of man who, once he had made a choice, would follow the path set down unblinking, but as he looked down at her, she spoke.
“Are you sure?” she asked. He was close to her; if he but moved a step forward, the buttons of his coat would brush against her chest. She’d seen an illustration in a book where a man held a woman in his arms like this.
But he did not take that step. He smiled instead. “Yes,” he said.
His smile was nearly shy, and she beamed at him in delight. “You will like it,” she promised as they began walking again. “It’s beautiful there.”
“I haven’t been anywhere near the countryside in ages.”
“Where did you holiday when you were in Iblevad?”
He shrugged. “I seldom holiday anywhere. I’ve been busy working.”
“Clearly I’ve come to save you from yourself.”
“I wouldn’t go as far as that.”
“You’ll see,” she said, glancing at the street, the restaurants.
“Indeed. But for now, we should hail a carriage.”
She sighed. “I wish we could keep talking and sup together. I wish we could go to Castet’s. Wouldn’t that be fun? Drinking champagne and eating oysters,” she said.
“If you really want oysters, the place to go is the wooden stalls of the open market, early in the day.”