This year, carnival brings myriad wonders. The divination doll is just another one.
‘Let me guess,’ Lady Aurora laughs, pulling the coin and turning on the automation, ‘she’ll write down my future? number of children? the true love’s name?’
The doll written most of the name already. “Claudius”. Ha, sure. Her fiancé. The doll-maker obviously did some research.
‘So it is the true love's name!’
The owner whitens and her smile’s fading already before he spits out, quietly:
‘No, milady. It’s a cursed work—I’m sorry—it tells only one’s death.’ And then, with fear, even quieter: ‘Or its cause.’