Written in the Stars

Chapter Sixteen

The place they had chosen to meet was a small cafe none of them had ever been to before. So, in a sense, this could just be an opportunity for Celeste to broaden her horizons. In another sense, this was a meeting Izabela would have her killed for going to, let alone suggesting. She knew that returning home was going to have to involve her stopping by a shower. Maybe she would say she had gone to the gym. She had time to come up with an excuse. Although the idea of having to was making her feel sick to her stomach. Perhaps it was the fact that she was going that was making her sick to her stomach and not the just the thought of having to come up with an excuse.

Jean and Astrid were already at the cafe by the time she arrived. This was not a surprise considering that Astrid liked to be punctual as a last resort and fifteen minutes early as a first. But even so. Celeste had tried to get there with five minutes to spare, to give her heart time to stop pounding and her palms time to stop sweating. She had had no idea her body was still capable of those reactions, but she must not have been this anxious in the almost eight hundred years since she had been turned.

They were sat at a table in the far back corner. They had already ordered and so Celeste took that as a que to do so herself. It seemed they were settled in for a long chat. Astrid had a large tea pot in front of her. Jean had a selection of drinks. She was unsurprised by this. He liked to try almost everything on the menu the first time they went somewhere. So that he could a) decide on the likelihood of them returning somewhere and b) what he would be having so he could streamline the decision making process. He argued that it was so that they would be able to make more decisions about their future due to his lack of decision fatigue. She just thought it was an excuse to give into the compulsion of ordering everything he wanted to try. And it wasn't like he always ended up ordering different things at different places. No. He almost always ordered an espresso. In every place they went that served it (that they had already been to at least once) he would have an espresso. And if they didn't serve it? Well they probably weren't likely to go back there in a hurry.

Celeste ordered and had a proper look at the range of cups and mugs on the table in front of Jean. There was a cup in there that was small enough to be an espresso, it looked like he might have this place on his list of acceptable cafes. Of course, it wasn't hard in London for anyone to find a cafe that was serving espresso. They might not be in Italy, but this was as close as their were going to get in Britain.

Celeste had decided on the most elaborate drink they sold. She knew she would regret the ridiculous sugar intake later, but right now, as it was too early to drink alcohol, she needed the sugar rush that was sure to be around the corner from the first sip of that drink. It was also pink and glittery which was appealing. It wasn't everyday she got to drink something pink and glittery, that was also hot, and acceptable for adults to drink.

She only had to wait a couple of minutes for her ridiculous beverage, but it was a handy couple of minutes. She decided to try some of the mindfulness techniques she had overheard humans talk about. There seemed to be something in it for them, and surely, if she was just an advanced human, then there was a high chance it would work on her too. And so, she spent the time waiting for her hot drink breathing deeply and trying to clear her mind. The mind clearing thing was wildly unsuccessful, but the breathing thing was a success. She was surprised. Her heart rate was down and her palms were no longer as wet as the Thames. It appeared to be a win. And she also felt ready to face down her sister and husband, if she could even still call him that. Celeste had taken to referring to Jean in her head as her husband question mark, because obviously they were still married and it would not be easy to get a divorce when their marriage certificate was from revolutionary France, but she did not know how Jean felt towards her and if he still thought of her as his wife or just the person he was forced to be married to.