Chapter 3

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• • • New Orleans, present-day • • •

The streets are even more crowded when Florence finally leaves her hotel room. She might have had a small anxiety attack back in the hotel, as well as some additional inner conflict regarding the bizarreness of her plan, but she had overcome it and was ready to tackle her first day.

It truly was an extraordinary experience to walk through an unknown city that strangely enough felt so very familiar to her. There was a certain magic in the air and Florence smiles to herself as a melancholic feeling settles in her stomach.

In her fairly short life, Florence had seen very little of the world, so the bustling streets of New Orleans came as a culture shock. She looks around in awe, enjoying the excited chattering of tourists and the alluring smells coming from the various restaurants and food stalls.

A traveling website had called New Orleans a true melting pot of different cultures and Florence simply had to agree. The colonial architecture housed charming little shops and restaurants that resembled those of the movies. The website had not exaggerated one bit.

Florence had already visited Marie Laveau's House Of Voodoo and bought herself some flower extract she had run out of. In several of her dreams, the same plant had made its appearance. According to those dreams, the plant would protect her from evil forces and although Florence did not know to what extent the information from her dreams was reliable or even real, she still chose to wear or consume the purple flower. Even if it wouldn't do anything for her, it wouldn't hurt either.

"Thank you." Florence smiles kindly at the man who hands her the lemonade she had ordered. She quickly adds a few drops of vervain extract into it before taking a sip, enjoying the sweet beverage while looking around. New Orleans was so vibrant and interesting that she forced herself to take in as much of the city as she could. She didn't know how long she would stay here, depending on the dreams and whether she could find answers. If nothing can be found, she would have to travel on, perhaps to Chicago.

She continues to stroll through the streets, only halting to take a picture now and then or to enter one of the small shops. Florence halts in her step when she hears several loud voices coming from one of the houses. Curiously she peeks inside, smile faltering when her eyes land on a familiar emblem that graced one of the walls.

• • • England, April 1492 • • •

"What is it?" Elizabeth looks tentatively at the small wrapped item Rebekah had handed her after closing the door of her chambers. Trevor had warned her in the past not to take presents from the Mikaelson family, seeing as these would come with a price but Elizabeth did not believe Rebekah to be so cruel, not to her.

"Perhaps you should open it, silly." Rebekah grins at her before pulling the girl onto the bed with her. Elizabeth was always prone to be aloof and formal, it reminded her irritably of Elijah. She understood, the girl was afraid of losing her job, but Rebekah would never let such a thing happen, Elizabeth was hers.

"Open it, petal. It won't bite you." Rebekah teases while taking Elizabeth's free hand in her own. She presses a kiss to the inside of Elizabeth's wrist before placing it on top of the package. An excited gleam was visible in Rebekah's eye, eager to see the girl's reaction to the gift.

Elizabeth bites her lip briefly, a result of her inner conflict. Painfully slowly she pulls on the cord until the package falls open, revealing a familiar pendant.

"Your family crest?" Elizabeth holds up the necklace, stunned at the gift. She hadn't known what to expect, but certainly not something so personal. Her eyes fly to Rebekah's neck where the necklace was indeed gone.

Anemoia • Mikaelsons mateWhere stories live. Discover now