"I believe so."
"How?" The queen leaned forward, no mean feat considering her size and the deep sofa. "How can you? What qualifies you?"
"I am the head of an organization that monitors people in possession of supernatural powers."
I lifted my brows, but they didn't rise as high as either the queen's or prince's.
"Is this a joke?" the prince bellowed.
"We're an ancient organization now known as the Ministry of Curiosities, but we've had other titles in the past."
"A ministry?" The queen looked to her son. "Why haven't I been informed of it?"
"Not an official ministry," Lincoln said. "We are not under the parliamentary umbrella. Making us official would make us public, and I don't think the public are ready to hear about the supernatural."
"Oh, I don't know," the queen said idly. "Spiritual matters are all the rage now. One of my ladies claims to have attended a séance several years ago where a real medium spoke to the ghost haunting his widow. Apparently this woman was very convincing."
The prince closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. "Mediums aren't real."
"They are," Lincoln said. "As are a great many people with interesting abilities whom you would dismiss as frauds or tricksters. The ministry catalogs them and their families to insure we know where they are and what their talent is. It's important to trace lines of ancestry, since paranormal traits are inherited. It protects them, as well as the nation."
The queen gave her son a triumphant look, then turned her attention to Lincoln. "Do you have a list of true mediums? Will you send it to me?"
He shook his head. "I won't be releasing that information to anyone. Not even to you. It's far too dangerous-"
"I am your queen! I command you."
"There's no need for a list," I said before Lincoln got himself into more trouble. "I can summon your husband for you. Indeed, I think it's an excellent idea to ask him if he has any knowledge of Leisl's vision since she named him. It seems like the next logical step."
The queen and prince both stared at me, mouths ajar in a most un-regal manner. "But you're such a little thing," the queen said. "And so young."
I simply shrugged. "Age has nothing to do with one's supernatural ability. It's something I was born with."
Beside me, Lincoln's fingers curled into a fist on the chair arm, but he didn't try to silence me.
"You can talk to the dead?" the queen asked.
"I can, and I see them too."
"What do they look like?"
"Mist shaped like their living self."
"Remarkable," she said on a breath.
"What other supernatural abilities is your so-called ministry aware of?" the prince asked.
The queen flapped a black lace handkerchief, produced from the depths of her silk skirts. "You must summon the Prince Consort, Miss Holloway. Immediately. What do you need to begin? A drum? Cymbals? Bertie, close the curtains."
The prince didn't rise. "We ought to learn more about this ministry first. I'm not prepared to accept Mr. Fitzroy's claims yet. Not without proof."
"Miss Holloway is my proof," Lincoln shot back.
"You believe Leisl," I said gently. "And Lincoln is her son. He wishes you no disrespect, nor does he want anything from you in return. We're not asking for money or a royal seal of approval. We simply want to know what Leisl meant, too. There's no harm in doing this, I promise." To the queen, I said, "I don't require darkness or any paraphernalia. I can summon him anywhere at any time."
"What if he won't come?"
"He will come for me." As a necromancer, spirits had no choice but to appear when summoned, even those that had crossed to their afterlife. For a medium, the spirit could only come if they hadn't yet crossed. The difference made my power so much more frightening. That, and the fact necromancers could force the spirit to occupy a dead body. "Are you prepared for this, ma'am?"
"Yes. Oh, yes, I have waited a long time." She seemed taller all of a sudden, younger, and a gleam lit up her eyes. "Do not disappoint me, Miss Holloway."
"We will expect proof that you speak to my father," the prince said. "If you're lying to us … "
I swallowed. "What is his full name?"
"Francis Albert Augustus Charles Emmanuel of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha," the queen rattled off.
I had to call him twice because I missed one of his names the first time. The second time, however, I breathed a sigh of relief as the mist coalesced in the corner of the room then floated toward me, slowly forming the shape of a distinguished looking man with a high forehead and impressive side whiskers. He looked around, first at me, then at the others in the room. He settled on the sofa near his widow and laid a hand over hers. She didn't respond.
"Are you Albert, the Prince Consort?" I asked.
The queen pressed her handkerchief to her chest and her gaze flicked around the room. "He's here? Where? Where?"
"Sitting next to you." I nodded at the ghost.
The queen tentatively put out a hand. It went right through him. "I can't feel him."
The Prince of Wales rose. Hands behind his back, he bent toward the spirit, a deep frown on his brow. "Proof, Miss Holloway."
Sir?" I prompted. "Are you the Prince Consort?"
"I am he." The ghost had a faint German accent but a clear voice. He waved a hand in front of his widow's face. "Who are you?"
"My name is Miss Holloway and this is Mr. Fitzroy. I'm a … I can summon spirits."
"Clearly." He nodded at his widow. "Can she hear me?"
"They can't see, hear or sense you. Only me. Sir, I must ask for some sign that you are indeed who you claim to be. For your loved ones."
"I understand." I don't know what the prince died of, but he sported no obvious wounds that I could see. He rose and swirled before settling once more on the sofa. "I used to call her my sweet petal because she was a rose in a thorny garden. Parliament," he clarified. "It was a name for her ears only."
"The spirit tells me that he called you sweet petal, ma'am," I said. "Does that-"
The queen caught a single loud sob in her handkerchief. "Dear heart." She reached for him and for a moment I thought she could see his shape because she stroked his cheek. But as the prince moved, her hand passed through him. "I miss you terribly, my love. It's unbearable without you by my side."
Both the Prince of Wales and the spirit glanced at me and then Lincoln. I understood their concern. It was awkward enough hearing the words of an unhappy widow to her dead husband, but hearing them from the monarch's lips made me feel like I'd committed treason. She looked vulnerable, sitting on the sofa in her widow's weeds, her eyes full.
"Tell her … " The prince consort looked to the corner of the ceiling where I'd first seen him. "Tell her that my soul aches for her." He nodded at me when I hesitated.
I repeated his words. The queen's sob filled the room.
"She has grown rather fat," he said. "Do not tell her that," he hastily added.
"It has been some years since your death," I told him.
"Twenty-eight years," his son said.
"Twenty-eight long years," the queen added, her voice warbling.
"That long?" Prince Albert's spirit stood and circled his son. "He looks older than me when I died. A fine looking fellow, though. Tell him that."
I repeated his words for the Prince of Wales who seemed momentarily taken aback by the praise. "Er, thank you."
"There is so much I must tell you," the queen said, pushing herself forward on the sofa. Gone was the regal bearing, the haughty tilt of her chin. She looked like any other elderly widow meeting a long lost loved one again. "Where to start? We have … " She counted on her fingers then shook her head. "I'm not entirely sure how many grandchildren. More than thirty. But our dearest Alice and Leo have both passed on. Oh! But you must know that! How are they?"
"Er … " The ghost looked to me.
"They're happy," I said for him. I didn't know if he communicated with other deceased persons, but I did know that it was important to the queen to think of them meeting their father in a better place. "Sir, we've summoned you here for a specific reason."
"Not yet," the queen said. "I'm not ready. There's more news I must impart."
Her son laid a hand on her shoulder. "Very little of it will be for Miss Holloway's and Mr. Fitzroy's ears."
Her lips pinched, as if she suddenly remembered who she was and that we were nobodies. "You're right, Bertie. Go on, Miss Holloway. Let's get to the bottom of this mystery."
"A seer known as Leisl approached the Prince of Wales last night," I began. "She claimed to have had a vision where you endangered his life."