Jean Genie
Copyright© 2026 by Rachael Jane
Chapter 40: A New Wearer
Nantes, Late September 1673
The counting house is unusually quiet for the next fortnight. Laurent and Jules are gone; imprisoned by the King’s tax collectors. Dupré has retreated into his office, pacing like a caged animal. Madame Dupré moves through the halls with clipped steps, her voice sharp enough to cut. Élise practices a minuet upstairs as though oblivious to events around her, the notes drifting faintly through the floorboards.
Marie sits alone at the ledger table, hands folded, staring at the bracelet on her wrist. I appear beside her in ethereal form, shimmering faintly. She hasn’t summoned me; the bracelet simply anticipates her need. Marie lifts her head. Her eyes are tired.
“Jeannia,” she whispers, “I can’t keep doing this. I cannot keep calling on the bracelet for comfort and help.”
I kneel beside her, my form soft and translucent. “I know.”
She touches the bracelet lightly. “Every time I use it I feel the strain in the magic. And you flicker. And the world twists in ways I don’t understand.”
“Using magic always has consequences,” I say.
Her voice trembles. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want to change things I shouldn’t.”
I place an ethereal hand over hers. “You have been careful.”
Marie shakes her head. “But, as you say, even careful wishes have consequences. Laurent and Jules ... the tax collectors ... Dupré...” she swallows. “I don’t want to rely on magic any more.”
Marie’s eyes soften. “Jeannia ... is there a way I can free you from the bracelet?”
The bracelet pulses sharply; a quiet suppression of any thought of releasing me from its thrall. I hesitate. I feel the bracelet tug at me. Marie notices.
“It doesn’t want to let you go,” says Marie.
“No,” I say gently. “It is ... attached. Emotionally. It has grown protective of me over the years.”
“ ... and possessive,” observes Marie.
I lower my voice. “I want what is right. And right now, what is right is your choice.”
Marie nods slowly. “Then I choose to stop using the bracelet’s magic. I’m going to give the bracelet away.”
The bracelet flares as though hurt and confused. But not angry. It understands human limitations. It senses the depletion in Marie’s reserves of spirit magic. It resists change, but gently.
I whisper, “To whom?”
Marie looks toward the staircase, where Élise’s laughter echoes faintly. “To her. Élise is safe. She’s wealthy. She’s protected. And she’s my friend.” Her voice softens. “I considered giving it to Awa, but she’s vulnerable, and she might be prevented from keeping the bracelet.”
I nod. “Élise is a sensible choice.”
Marie rises from the table and walks upstairs. I follow, drifting behind her like a faint shadow. Élise sits at her vanity, brushing her hair, humming softly.
Marie pauses in the doorway. “Élise?”
Élise turns, smiling. “Marie! Come in.”
Marie steps forward, hands trembling slightly. “I ... I want you to have something.”
She removes the bracelet. The moment it leaves Marie’s skin, I feel my connection to her begin to fade, like a tether loosening. The bracelet pulses, reluctant to part with Marie, but accepting her decision.
Marie holds it out. “A token of our friendship.”
Élise’s eyes widen. “Marie ... it’s beautiful.”
She takes it gently, admiring the gold and the three jewels. “It looks almost ... foreign.”
Marie smiles faintly. “It’s special to me. I want you to have it.”
Élise beams. “I’ll treasure it. Truly.”
Élise fastens it around her wrist. The bracelet warms as it accepts her. However, the Maristela Bracelet senses the same problem I sense. Élise’s devotion to the Church disturbs her balance between the Three Realms, so her well of spirit magic is tiny compared to when Marie first put on the bracelet.
Marie watches, her breath trembling. She’s tempted to tell Élise about the bracelet’s magic properties, but the bracelet influences her mind against such a revelation. A new wearer should discover the power of the bracelet for herself.
Élise reaches out and squeezes her hand. “When I go to Paris, I’ll take you with me. I promise.”
Marie nods, swallowing hard. “Thank you.”
I drift beside Marie with the last wisps of my connection to her, unseen by Élise. “You have done well,” I whisper. “This is the right path.”
Marie wipes her eyes. “Will you ... still be here?”
“Inside the bracelet, yes,” I say softly. “I can follow your progress while the bracelet remains close. But you should move on with your life and not worry about me.”
Marie nods, accepting. She steps back, leaving Élise admiring the bracelet in the lamplight. Marie walks down the stairs. She has chosen truth and freedom. And she has chosen to let go before the bracelet becomes a crutch.
Nantes, June 1676
Three years pass. The Dupré household changes, though not always in ways visible from the street. Marie grows into a calm, capable young woman, rising in status within the Dupré counting house. Dupré has ceased his nefarious activities, or at least, neither Marie nor the tax collectors detect them. Élise grows taller, more poised, more determined to escape Nantes for Paris. Awa is now Élise’s personal maid, her presence constant and dependable.
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