The Extra's Rise - Chapter 450

Chapter 450: Confounding Love (3)
The interior of the fortune teller’s shop enveloped us in a world apart from the vibrant marketplace outside. Heavy velvet curtains in deep crimson and purple draped the walls, muffling sound and creating an atmosphere of intimate secrecy. The air was thick with incense—sandalwood and something more exotic I couldn’t quite identify. Crystal specimens of various sizes caught and refracted the flickering light from dozens of candles scattered throughout the space.

The fortune teller herself was a surprisingly elegant woman. Despite her apparent age, she carried herself with remarkable poise. Her silver hair was woven with small charms and beads that clicked softly when she moved, and her eyes—a striking amber color in the dim light—seemed to take in everything at once.

“Welcome,” she greeted us, gesturing to the circular table at the center of the room. “I am Madame Vesta. Please, be seated.”

We arranged ourselves around the table, the girls exchanging excited glances while I maintained my skepticism. The fortune teller settled into her chair and withdrew an ornate deck of cards from a silk-wrapped bundle.

“These cards speak to me,” she explained, her fingers deftly shuffling the deck with practiced ease. “They reveal truths hidden from ordinary sight—paths taken and not taken, wounds healed and still bleeding, futures waiting to unfold.”

“I’ll go first,” Rachel volunteered, leaning forward with an eagerness that surprised me. For someone so practical, she seemed unusually interested in this mystical display.

Madame Vesta nodded, spreading the cards in a graceful arc. “Choose four cards that call to you, Princess of the North.”

Rachel’s eyebrows rose slightly at the use of her title—something we hadn’t mentioned—but she complied, letting her fingers hover over the spread before selecting four cards.

The fortune teller arranged them in a cross pattern and turned them over one by one.

“The Queen of Swords,” she announced, revealing the first card. “Your mind is sharp as the blade she wields. You see through deception, cutting away falsehoods to reach truth.”

Rachel’s lips curved in a slight smile. The assessment wasn’t inaccurate.

“The Ten of Cups.” The second card showed a family beneath a rainbow of cups. “This represents what you truly seek—not just power or position, but genuine connection. Emotional fulfillment that wealth cannot buy.”

The third card depicted a seated woman with a scroll, her face serene and knowing. “The High Priestess. Your intuition runs deeper than you acknowledge. You sense things others miss, even when your eyes are closed.”

The final card showed a man standing between two wands, looking out at the horizon. “The Two of Wands. You stand at a crossroads, Princess. Soon you must choose between the path of security and one of uncertain adventure.”

Rachel sat back, her expression thoughtful. “Interesting,” was all she said, but I could see the fortune teller’s words had resonated with her.

“I’ll go next,” Cecilia declared, her tone suggesting she viewed this more as entertainment than divination.

She selected her cards with decisive gestures, almost challenging the deck to reveal something meaningful.

“The Queen of Wands,” Madame Vesta said, turning over a card showing a woman with a sunflower and a black cat. “Fire burns in your soul, Princess of the Empire. Your presence commands attention, your passion inspires others.”

Cecilia smirked, clearly pleased with this assessment.

“The Emperor, reversed.” The next card showed a regal figure on a throne, but upside down. “You struggle with questions of control and authority. Perhaps not all battles can be won through sheer force of will.”

Her smirk faded slightly.

“Five of Swords.” This card depicted a man gathering swords while others walked away defeated. “Beware of victories that cost too much. Not all conflicts are worth the price of winning them.”

The fortune teller’s gaze was direct as she turned over the final card. “Strength. Your true power lies not in domination but in the gentle command of your own nature. The lion is tamed not by force, but by patience and inner resolve.”

Cecilia’s crimson eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you saying I’m out of control?”

“The cards say only what needs to be heard,” Madame Vesta replied calmly. “What you choose to hear is your decision alone.”

Seraphina, who had been watching silently, now reached for the cards. Her selection was methodical, each choice appearing carefully considered.

“Eight of Pentacles,” the fortune teller began. The card showed a craftsman working diligently on his creations. “Your dedication to mastery serves you well. You perfect your skills with patience and precision.”

Seraphina nodded slightly, accepting this as a simple truth.

“Four of Swords.” This card depicted a knight resting. “Even the sharpest mind must rest to maintain its edge. There is wisdom in stillness that cannot be found in constant striving.”

“The Hermit.” A robed figure holding a lantern in darkness. “Solitude has been both your teacher and your prison. You carry your own light, but sometimes illuminate only your own path.”

The final card showed children playing among cups. “Six of Cups. Look to forgotten joy and simplicity—they hold wisdom your discipline alone cannot reach.”

Seraphina’s expression remained composed, but I noticed her fingers brush unconsciously against the silver hairpin she’d purchased earlier. Something in the reading had touched her.

Rose hesitated before selecting her cards, her fingers trembling slightly as they hovered over the spread.

“Don’t worry,” Rachel encouraged her. “It’s just for fun.”

Rose nodded and made her selections. The fortune teller’s expression shifted subtly as she arranged the cards.

“Page of Cups,” she began. The card showed a young person with a cup containing a fish. “Your heart speaks truths others cannot hear. You possess emotional wisdom beyond your years.”

“Nine of Pentacles.” A woman stood in a lush garden. “The garden you’ve cultivated blooms with your independence. You have built your own sanctuary from that which sought to contain you.”

Rose’s eyes widened slightly at this.

“Seven of Cups, reversed.” The card showed cups filled with various symbols, but upside down. “The mists of confusion are clearing. What once seemed like multiple paths reveals itself as illusion.”

Madame Vesta paused before turning the final card, studying Rose with unusual intensity. “The Sun,” she said finally. “Light after darkness. The warmth of clarity after the cold shadow of deception.”

She leaned forward, her voice dropping. “Your mother’s chains cannot bind you forever. The cult’s legacy ends with you, if you choose it.”

Rose paled visibly, her hands clenching in her lap. “How did you—”

“The cards know what the heart conceals,” Madame Vesta said gently. “Your path leads toward healing, not repetition.”

A tense silence fell over the table.

“Your turn, Arthur,” Rachel said, breaking the uncomfortable moment.

I hesitated, then reached for the cards, selecting four that seemed to draw my attention despite my skepticism.

Madame Vesta’s hands stilled momentarily as she turned over the first card. “The Tower, reversed,” she said. The card showed a tower struck by lightning, people falling from it, but upside down. “You resist a necessary breakdown of false structures. Sometimes destruction is the only path to truth.”

The second card showed a naked figure in a wreath. “The World. Completion of a cycle, wholeness across different realms. You stand at a junction where endings and beginnings converge.”

“Death.” Despite its ominous name, the card depicted a scene of transformation. “Not literal death, but metamorphosis. The shedding of an old self to make way for the new.”

The final card showed a figure about to step off a cliff. “The Fool. A leap of faith awaits you. Innocence restored through wisdom hard-won.”

Madame Vesta studied the pattern before her, then looked up at me with an intensity that made me shift uncomfortably.

“You stand at a crossroads between worlds,” she said, her voice taking on a rhythmic cadence. “Fighting against revelations that must come. The completion you seek is within reach, but only through transformation can you begin anew. Two souls intertwined across realities—one journey ending as another begins.”

A chill ran down my spine. Her words felt too specific, too close to the truth I’d been grappling with. The others were watching me with varied expressions of curiosity and concern.

“That’s… quite poetic,” I managed to say, trying to maintain my skeptical facade.

Madame Vesta smiled, a knowing expression that suggested she saw right through my pretense. “The cards speak in poetry because some truths are too complex for ordinary language.”

She gathered the cards back into her deck with practiced motions. “You carry burdens not meant for one person alone,” she said, looking around at all of us. “Remember that sharing the weight does not diminish your strength—it multiplies it.”

“Well, that was unexpectedly intense,” Cecilia commented, breaking the silence as we made our way back toward the tram station.

“She knew things she shouldn’t have known,” Rose said softly, her eyes still troubled. “About my mother…”

Rachel put an arm around Rose’s shoulders. “Fortune tellers are good at reading people. She probably picked up on subtle cues.”

“Perhaps,” Seraphina agreed, though she didn’t sound entirely convinced.

As for me, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Madame Vesta had seen far more than she should have been able to. Her invitation to return at midnight lingered in my thoughts. Did she truly know something about my connection to Alyssara? About Emma?

The girls were watching me, their expressions varying degrees of concerned and curious.

“What do you think, Arthur?” Rachel asked. “Was she the real deal or just good at cold reading?”

I forced a casual shrug. “Probably a bit of both. She certainly knew how to create an atmosphere.”

As we boarded the tram back to the palace, I felt a strange mixture of emotions. The day had been a welcome respite from the intensity of the investigation, a chance to simply enjoy the company of these four remarkable women. But the fortune teller’s words had brought me back to the reality I’d been trying to escape—the mystery of Alyssara, the looming threat of the Vampire Monarch, and the truth about my own existence in this world.