Chapter 62.2 The Magic Wand (Part 2)

The destination of our walk was a solid two-story red brick building with a wrought iron sign depicting a magic wand.

— The master of magic wands, Monsieur Jacques Francis Boisselier, heir to the ancient family of Boisselier, is one of the best masters in Europe and the best in France. — The woman gently enlightened me. — Mr. Hoshino, Master Boisselier can be too outspoken or eccentric, but do not pay attention to that. The main thing is his skill, I'm sure you'll be satisfied with the upcoming purchase. And now let's go...

Once again, I was dragged along, but I didn't even think about resisting because I immediately felt the special atmosphere of this place. It's a pity that Baa-san had disappeared again, it would be interesting to compare our feelings. Inside, it was surprisingly bright, clean, bright... yes, bright.

Elegant furniture in bright colors, decorative arches in the passageways, slender columns that looked like they were woven from wire lanterns. Most of all, the circular room looked like a place where people gathered for tea parties and leisurely conversation.

The mosaic floor had some sort of runic ritual circle, unfamiliar to me, almost half the size of the room. When Lucy noticed me shifting sideways to avoid standing on the pattern, she laughed, though not loudly. At that moment, a brown-haired woman of average height, appearance, and age appeared from one of the side doors-absolutely nothing remarkable. She smiled immediately and recognized Lucy.

— Madame Dunois! What a pleasant surprise. Has something happened to your magic wand?

— Good afternoon, Victoria. — Lucy replied with a warm smile. — No, there's nothing wrong with my magic wand. I brought you a customer. — The woman forced me to take a few steps forward, but I never entered the circle. — Sora Hoshino.

I did not manage to see Madame Dunois' face at that moment, but her voice was full of anticipation and joy — there was no need to listen to emotions. The brown-haired woman frowned for a few seconds, then her face brightened and an expression of surprise appeared.

 For a few seconds she looked at my face, but I, who agreed to the photo for journalists, always put a condition for the shooting so that the face was in the penumbra, full face ... so that no one would recognize me on these photos. But the mystery brought me more interest from clients. The woman glanced silently at the pleased Dunois, who nodded and smiled broadly.

— I am pleased to welcome you. Madame Dunois and I attended an exhibition in the United States where we had the pleasure of seeing your work. I must say, I didn't immediately believe that all these portraits were painted by the same person. — The woman shook her head sadly, but I don't want to hear what she's really feeling. — Each work is different in some way: the style "floats", the choice of colors, the portrait is unusually detailed and precise, or quite "free" ....

— Everyone is different, I couldn't help saying. — And those gifted with magic are even more so. Our magic is very different, even in mother and daughter, in twins, there are always differences, and with them the feeling of a person. Here, for example, Madame Dunois is filled with the energy of life, an extraordinarily bright personality and a lovely woman. In her portrait I would use gold and shades of pink and scarlet, and the subject must be either in the city or in the company of people — it would perfectly convey what you and I see in Madame Dunois and feel when we are close to her. Her portrait, in my opinion, will better convey what I see and feel if it shows her in a deep armchair, with a book in her hands, at the window, looking out at a bright sunset, with a single white rose in a thin vase....Yes, definitely....

I saw her portrait as if it were live — just an outstretched hand. I felt a faint impatience and a tingle in my fingertips from the anticipation of picking up the brush. I almost stepped forward, but I remembered the runic circle, and then I came to my senses.

— I apologize, I get a little carried away sometimes.

— I'm curious, — a man's voice came from the direction the scarf had come from. — Who is it that Madame Dunois has brought us? Hmmm.... — A mage looked at me through small, round, armless glasses on a chain.