Immanuel's Veins by Ted Dekker Page B

main living room, and I dived for the handle, eager to run back to my room or to the rampart Alek and I had finished building. I pulled the door open.
    â€œMadam.”
    She stepped through, then turned and stared at me with some fascination. “My, my, Toma. You’re full of surprises, aren’t you? So strong and willing to shoot a man in the head at the first sign of trouble, and yet so . . .” She stopped.
    â€œHe was a threat, madam. If I had not killed him, Alek might be dead.”
    â€œI understand.”
    â€œAnd please know I don’t like the way this Vlad van Valerik acted. He was eyeing you like a vulture eyes a dead horse.”
    â€œA dead one?”
    â€œI must insist that he not be allowed back on the property for any reason. I strictly forbid it.”
    â€œOf course. I’ll tell Mother.”
    â€œTell me what?” Kesia hurried up, waving at her face with a bamboo fan, fresh from the kitchen I guessed.
    â€œHello, Mother. I’m to tell you that we are banning vultures because we look like dead horses.”
    â€œReally?” She ran her finger down my arm and let her eyes wander over me. “And yet this fine stallion looks very much alive to me.”
    â€œPlease, Mother.”
    Kesia sighed. “Fine, no vultures. In the meantime, find Natasha and inform her to cancel any plans for tomorrow night. We have guests coming.”
    â€œGuests?” I asked.
    â€œYes.”
    I saw two black-clad riders leaving through the main gate before Kesia spoke.
    â€œVlad van Valerik and two of his clan have asked to bring us dinner. The least they can do, they said. I think it will be wonderful.”
    I should have put my foot down then, but I was too off center, still too distracted by my own emotions to push my weight around.
    Lucine glanced at me. “Toma has forbidden that.”
    â€œNonsense,” Kesia said. “I insist. And if they cannot come here, then we will go there. It would be nice to see the Castle Castile again. Would you prefer that, dear guardian?”
    I was about to protest in the strongest terms when she suddenly gasped and pulled a sealed envelope from her pocket.
    â€œOh, a runner brought this for you a short time ago.” She handed me the message waxed shut with Her Majesty’s seal. “From the empress, it appears,” Kesia said. “Most urgent advice on how to stop all the evildoers, no doubt. Come, Lucine, let’s leave him to more important matters.”
    Lucine followed Kesia into the house, leaving me alone with the dispatch. I ripped it open and stepped away from the door. The handwriting inside was from Her Majesty’s scribe—I recognized it immediately.
    To Toma Nicolescu, servant of Her Majesty,
    I write to you in the most urgent matter concerning the Cantemir family, whom I have put under your care. Since your departure it has been determined that Moldavia’s allegiance to Russia might best be secured through the union of the Cantemirs with Russian royalty. Interest has been shown.
    So then I charge you to protect the life and heart of Lucine Cantemir at all costs. No one less than Russian royalty is to be granted any courtship with her for any reason. Our enemies may have reason to seek her hand. I will soon follow this dispatch with further details for Mikhail Ivanov and Kesia Cantemir, after I secure the necessary commitments.
    In the meantime, know that any breach of this understanding would cause a great offense and fracture delicate ties. The result could be devastating in this war of ours.
    Catherine
Empress of Russia

FIVE
    L ucine hurried through the estate, dressed only in the blue dressing gown she’d thrown on in her rush, hiking the hem so that it didn’t drag along the flagstone. It was early, still not yet time for breakfast, and only the kitchen was stirring. Mother was probably awake, being tended to by her chambermaid, and surely Toma was up—she prayed he