“Did she get pregnant with a boy?”
“Yes,” Charlie confirms. “And he lived and later became King Charles VIII of France.”
“Did she keep her vow?”
“Apparently, she did.”
“OK, let’s recap. A fifteenth-century French queen made a vow and gave her heirloom keys to her niece instead of a daughter of hers.” I narrow my eyes at Charlie. “While I’m always happy to be educated, what I’d really like to know is what a twenty-first-century librarian did with the key she was given.”
“She made a vow of her own.”
The confusion on my face must be so great that Charlie giggles. “I’m sorry this story is so convoluted, but I promise, we’re almost there!”
“I hope so,” I say forcing myself to smile back.
“That day when I saw Mom admiring the key in her office, we’d received some terrible news. Dad had been diagnosed with cancer. Mom was distraught. We both were.”
“Who wouldn’t be?”
She tucks a blond wisp behind her ear. “Right in front of me, Mom pledged that if the treatments worked and Dad got better, then she’d part with Queen Charlotte’s key. She wouldn’t keep it, nor would she leave it to me, her only child. Instead, she’d return it to its home.”
“Home? Like, back to Monsieur Pernoud’s house? Or… where? Did she say where that home was?”
“Unfortunately, she didn’t.”
I knit my eyebrows. “And you didn’t ask?”
“I’d just assumed it would be Monsieur Pernoud’s family.” She gives me an apologetic look. “I should’ve asked, but our conversation took a bad turn. I told Mom that instead of trusting magic or making silly vows, she should focus on researching treatment options and the best specialists for Dad’s type of cancer. That’s what I was going to do.”
“It’s what any reasonable person would do.” I make some calculations in my head. “You said that was six years ago. Your dad died two years ago.”
“He was in remission for four amazing years,” Charlie says, her eyes dreamy. “My parents lived their lives to the fullest during that time.”
“Your mom’s trust in magic seemed to have worked for a while.”
“Maybe. Or the treatments did.”
“Most likely.”
Melancholy overlays the radiance in Charlie’s eyes. “Unfortunately, Dad’s cancer came back. It was so aggressive the second time that nothing could be done.”
“I’m sorry.”
She wrinkles her nose. “I’m sorry, too. If I’d been more curious that day, I could’ve helped you now.”
“You have,” I reassure her. “More than you know!”
DARREL
Charlie and I reach the statue at the edge of the park, make a U-turn, and head down the Napoleon III Quay. For a while, we walk in silence. Charlie gazes at the lake. The glassy surface mirrors the white clouds floating above. I listen to the melodic chitchat of birds in the trees, while mentally reviewing everything I just learned and planning my next steps.
“What are you going to do now?” Charlie asks.
“I’m going to drive to Vosier-en-Bas and pay a visit to the Pernoud family.”
She crosses her fingers. “I hope they have the key and are willing to help you.”
“I hope so, too.”