Free Fairy Circle by Johanna Frappier Page B

started interacting with things Coco knew weren’t there. Then Saffron would wince and pretend it was all a joke while watching the disgruntled ghost out of the corner of her eye as he or she tried to press their ghostly money on her or persist in a conversation about the weather.
    One night, Saffron had a dream about a woman who was to marry. The bride and the groom were both of patrician families and proud of their upper-class standing in society. H is family knew Caesar! She was already rubbing elbows with dignitaries! She was content in this knowledge, knowing that their relationship with political powers would fortify her marriage.
    Her step was light as she passed the formal gardens and geometrically-arranged hedges of his parent’s property. She knocked on the sea-weathered door, drew her hand back and gingerly fingered her exposed collarbone with soft fingers.
    She was a pleasant looking girl with strong facial features delicately balanced by fine, heart-shaped lips. Her obsidian hair flowed thick down her back, bound loosely by a few golden cords given to her by her love as a token of his affection. She was a bit tall and angular for the fashion of the time, but this did not seem to bother her betrothed. He loved her anyway, he always assured her. She was filled with giddy anticipation for this visit. She had decided to give herself to him before the wedding. He had been so patient with her these past few months. He had begged for her acquiescence on only a few occasions and with only a little anger.
    He did not answer the door. She knocked again and waited, shivering with nervous, sexual energy. No answer. She waited. Should she search him out? Maybe he wasn’t home. She decided to enter, just to make sure. She pushed the heavy wood door open and stood in the cool alcove. After a beat, she heard the squeals and giggles of several female voices. She stopped. These were not the voices of his sisters. Not the voice of his mother. And what was the strange smell in the air? She walked slowly, her fine-tooled sandals making not a sound on the stone floor. The liquid heat of anticipation melted away and left her with a sodden chill, chasing the warmth of the day right out of her bones. She frowned. She couldn’t figure for the life of her who those women might be.
    She walked past several doorways of luxurious rooms awash with vividly painted frescoes. His family’s home was typical of the upper class, consisting of many rooms designed around an atrium open to the heavens above. She padded silently along the tiled floor patterned with the swirling blues of the ocean and sky.
    Another giggle. A sigh. The voice of her love growling like a bear. She stopped again, frozen in time. Her hand flew to her throat and an icy dread crawled across her body like fouled trough water.
    Leave!
    She stood motionless except for kneading the skin at her throat.
    Move! Find out!
    She walked forward, toward the sound of the joyful voices, toward the bedchamber of her love. She adjusted her flowing, white robes, stood up straight, and rounded the corner.
    There they were. Bodies. She couldn’t count how many. Female bodies. They were jumping on his bed, rolling around in his bed, rolling around him. Flashes of twisted limbs and dark hair on snow-white skin. Him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as if he were a slobbering glutton. The stink of hot, perfumed skin and that something else. His dark blue eyes flashed under his long lashes before he slapped the naked rump of one of them. She was small, beautiful, and curvaceous. She turned on him like a ravaged animal, bit his cheek, and left a mark. All the while, they writhed.
    The woman pulled her head from the doorway. She stood off to the side and backed herself up to the cool, stone wall. With wretched little choking sounds, she tried to catch her breath. She raised her hand to her mouth as if to stop an outpouring of bile. No one had seen her.
    “ No,” it escaped her lips as