<< Go Back

The Lady Bornekova

By Sara R. Turnquist

Order Now!

Karin was cold. She was cold and wet and tired. The dampness of the concluding day seemed to close in on the coach as if to suffocate its passengers. They lurched to one side and Mary, Karin's handmaiden, reached out to steady her lady. Karin brushed Mary's hand away. Mary's kindness was appreciated for the hundredth time, but Karin was too road-weary to indulge the over-zealous maiden. Still, she managed a small smile for her maiden as a sign of gratitude before adjusting her skirts. There were patches of still-damp cloth that had gotten drenched in the rain and road puddles when they'd stopped for the carriage to be pulled out of a rut.
Misunderstanding her shifting and fidgeting, Petr spoke up. "Karin, need we ask the coachmen to stop for a break to stretch your legs?"
"No, father, I'm quite all right"
"We are almost there, I am quite certain. You'll feel better once you are on solid ground again."
Karin nodded. "Yes, father, I'm sure you're right."
The car fell silent again. There had been many of these short spurts of dialogue, mere pleasantries, between she and her father, followed by long stretches of silence. This had been much of their conversation for the journey. And for much of the past month, she mused. In other circumstances, she would have welcomed the opportunity to spend time like this with her father, but the last weeks of tension between them did not allow for that.
For the early part of their travels, Karin had been much too absorbed in her own situation to think of how this must be for Mary. Now, as she glanced over at the girl who was two years her senior, she considered that Mary, too, was being moved far from the place she had for so long called home. Yet it was different for Mary; she found this change of scenery exciting. For whatever reason, this was a grand adventure of sorts for her. Karin may have been lost in self-pity the last several days, but she could still hear the servant gossip.
They continued to ride in silence, but it wasn't long before the canter of the horses slowed. Their destination was in sight. Her father and Mary both moved toward the window to set eyes on their new lodgings. Feigning interest, Karin did the same to see the fast-approaching summer palace.
Large burgundy walls reached toward the clouds, still dark and spewing moisture. Stones at the top were gray against the dark sky. Tall windows indicated the massive structure had but two stories, while two towers alluded to more above the second level. At the heart of the structure was a portico, shielding the door which would give them access. The foregrounds did not appear overly elaborate. Among the carved-out pathways, she could make out an ornate fountain in the yard. Trees and shrubs dotted the landscape before her eyes as well. A grand estate, albeit not as grand as the palaces in Prague, but as big as any summer home or hunting lodge she had seen that the royal family possessed.
This particular chateau was the favorite hunting lodge of her father's friend, the Royal Viscount Vlastik Dvorak, and for all she knew, it would be her home for the next days, weeks, perhaps months. To be sure, she hadn't been privy to that information. It was an appropriate place for her exile, she reasoned. There wasn't another living soul within easy riding distance. These places were built for seclusion, especially these houses intended for hunting getaways. And that was what she was here for — seclusion.
Their carriage slowed as they climbed one final hill and closed in upon the portico. Karin leaned back in the carriage and spent the rest of the short journey in silent prayer. The hoof beats of the horses created a tempo which measured the steps to their destination and her fate, drawing them nearer and nearer. She was thankful the portico had been built for such an occasion as this dreary, rainy day and that the horse and carriage fit underneath; their exit out of the carriage would be onto dry ground.
The carriage stopped. A manservant came from the house and opened the door for them to step out. Karin's father exited before turning and offering his hand first to Karin and then to Mary, helping them as they stepped onto firm dry land.
"This way, sir. The Royal Viscount is expecting you," the manservant said, ushering them into the chateau.
They stepped first into a lit foyer. Karin drew in a breath. Indoors, at last. She embraced the warmer and much drier climate of the interior. With difficulty, she resisted the urge to shake the rain from her strawberry-blonde hair. The décor of the chateau called out. Deer and elk heads along with a variety of hunting weapons, some primitive, decorated the walls. A servant took Petr's overcoat and Karin's cape while a maidservant stepped forward, closer to Mary.
"Zuzana will take you to your room," the manservant said to Mary.
Mary and Zuzana separated from the group as the manservant led Karin and Petr farther into the house to the receiving room.
"I will let the Royal Viscount know you have arrived," said the manservant as he bowed and took his leave of them.
Karin's gaze wandered around the ornate room — too much to take in. The ceilings were massive and high, dwarfing Karin in the space. One wall boasted a large marble fireplace with a fire hard at work warming the room. On the adjacent wall stood a large mahogany door frame and door, more intricately carved with artistic design and scroll work than anything else in the room. A family crest hung on the door frame. At each corner of the room and at each side of the mantle, above the fireplace, stood suits of armor looking down on them.
Karin turned in a small circle. Family portraits covered the walls. These images, the faces of the men who had established the family, made their name known and carried it through the generations. One lone round table in the room held flowers. She breathed in the sweet subtle fragrance of the seasonal blooms.
Just then, their host was announced, "The Royal Viscount Vlastik Dvorak."
Karin spun around to meet her host. A warm, robust man entered the room. She arched a brow. At some point she must have met him, but his features were not familiar. His nose was round, and his eyes were bright.
Though it was quite unnecessary, they were introduced, "Earl Petr Bornekov and his daughter, the Lady Karin Bornekova."
The Royal Viscount rushed straight for Karin's father, seizing his forearm with both of his thicker ones. "Petr, my friend! So good to see you!"
"Vlastik, how is the hunt?" Her father gave his old friend a big smile.
"Good, good. You will see, it is a good time for the hunt. We have been out every day, save today. Such weather for your journey! I hope it was well."
"One wheel found some bad road. Except for the rain, I think our trip was pleasant."
"Ah, some of those roads are maybe not so good, I think. But, it will be worth the trip."
"It already is, I assure you!" There was a pause in the pleasantries as the Earl indicated his daughter. "It has been a while, Vlastik, but you may remember my daughter, Karin."
"Yes, yes, but this cannot be the small girl I knew!"
Karin was somewhat concerned about her appearance, having come in from their travels in the rain. She was sure her long, curled hair was wet and matted and that her complexion belied an even greater pallor than her normally pale skin tone.
"A girl no more," Karin's father confirmed.
"No, indeed," Karin inserted. Unsure how to measure up this robust man, she fell back on her good breeding and curtsied. "Thank you for your hospitality, Royal Viscount." The man's overbearing personality made Karin feel even more timid.
"It is my pleasure," Vlastik said. The man's eyes gleamed bright, but they sat small in his face. Karin thought him an easy man to be in company with but not easy to trust. "I am happy for the excuse to get your father out here to my hunting lodge!"
"My absence has not been for lack of want to join you, my friend," Petr said.
"It is no matter. You are here now. Come, come, let me show you the chateau." He waved his arm, indicating they should follow him.
The conversation soon returned to banter between the two old friends as the Royal Viscount led the party out of the receiving room toward the rest of the house. Brushing past Karin, she was all but forgotten as the Royal Viscount led them from room to room, heading toward some unknown destination. Neither the Royal Viscount nor Petr made any attempt to speak to Karin or to include her in conversation as they toured the grand estate. So, Karin made every attempt to take in her surroundings, but it was impossible with the speed at which they would quit each room. It seemed, also, as if the Royal Viscount didn't exercise even the occasional breath, as her father had a hard time getting a word in edgewise.
At some length, her father did take notice of her plight. "Perhaps Karin would like to retire to her room to freshen up."
"Of course," the Royal Viscount said. He motioned for a young girl who was passing in the hall. "Would you show the Lady Karin to her rooms?"
The young girl nodded, curtsying politely to her master.
Karin nodded and hid a short sigh. She was all too happy to take her leave of the two men and even happier to be alone in her own room, if for even a few minutes. Smiling at the young servant girl, she followed her deeper into the enveloping halls.
****
Why was this young woman here at the chateau? A great secret surrounded her arrival, and no one seemed to know it. The servants always knew everything, but this was an exception to the rule. Everyone in the house was perplexed about her arrival. Only one thing appeared to be common knowledge: she was going to be staying for quite some time. Perhaps the Royal Viscount had plans for her being here. It would not be the first time he entertained the thoughts of taking on a young girl. Either way, her presence here did not make everyone happy — one person least of all, someone who didn't like surprises, who didn't like intrusions.
Did the Royal Viscount already have designs on her, already have a claim on her? That would not do. No, someone would have to do something about it before anything more progressed. Prudence may beg one wait to gain more information, but it would not do to risk the situation developing any further. Again, it would not be the first time.
****
Earl Petr Bornekov was not known to be a hard man. However, as with anyone, he had his limits. And he had come to think Karin had been able to do as she pleased, and her behavior had gone unchecked for far too long. Now he was facing the end result of this indulgence and pressing upon her some of the consequences of her actions. He in no way understood this to be a harsh punishment, but somehow Karin saw it that way. There was nothing he could do about it. This is how it was to be. Of that, he was determined.
The Earl and the Royal Viscount had been close friends for many years. It was an advantageous alliance for the Bornekov family. Though they themselves were of noble station, to enjoy such special attentions from a family of royal blood was something to be envied. And so, Petr had chosen his words with great care when proposing Karin might enjoy an extended holiday at the hunting lodge with the Dvorak family. Vlastik was all too pleased to reconnect with his good friend, so much so that he did not concern himself with the details of the circumstances surrounding the somewhat odd request. In this way, the plan had come into being.
During their first days in the hunting chateau, the Royal Viscount did everything in his power to distract Petr with hunting, wine, and all other manner of merrymaking. Karin, for her part, kept to herself, making only the obligatory appearances here and there. To watch his once vibrant daughter become so subdued wasn't as easy as he had expected.
During the day, Karin spent much of her time walking the grounds and sitting alone. Her father watched her day after day. She was polite and pleasant to those she happened to interact with throughout the day, but those instances were rare. Though she kept her distance from him, Petr could see the effects of her sleepless nights. The weariness in her eyes and the darkness underneath them were telling. This doubly concerned him, as the time for his return home was fast approaching. He had hoped she would be more adjusted to life at the chateau before he would have to return home.
Vlastik, seeing Petr's concern for Karin's demeanor, tried to encourage his old friend often.
"My son and his friends will be here for hunting tomorrow, and they will stay for some time," Vlastik told Petr at a noon meal after Karin, begging off that she wasn't hungry, had excused herself early. "She will enjoy the company of some people closer to her age. You will see. It will lighten her spirits."
Petr was surprised to hear there would be more guests coming to the chateau. He and his wife had intended this to be a time of solitude for Karin, not an opportunity for her to develop new friendships.
"So much has changed for her, Petr," the Royal Viscountess soothed, "Give her time."
Petr wanted to take solace in their words, but they didn't know Karin like he did. They didn't know just how stubborn his daughter could be and how impassioned that fiery spirit of hers was. And he was caging that spirit.
****
Stepan Dvorak gazed out of the window of his small chambers. His gaze drifted over the grounds of the Charles University of Prague, and he realized how much he had come to love this university. Many of his friends back home chided him, and some of his new friends teased him for wanting to come here to study. They all knew his position and future as Royal Viscount would not depend on anything he did or did not do at the university. Whether out of sheer determination to prove them all wrong or as a product of his character, Stepan out-performed many of his classmates. Yes, his marks would have made any father proud — except his father actually did not care. His father knew this truth as well.
But now he was looking over the campus with sadness in his heart. He knew this may well be the last semester he was to spend at this University he had so come to appreciate. His thoughts drifted back to his conversation with one of his professors earlier that day.
"What a pleasant surprise, Royal Baron!" Professor Evzen said upon seeing Stepan. He was quick to be on his feet to greet Stepan with all due respect and propriety. "What brings you to my office?"
Professor Evzen had been a mentor to Stepan throughout his time at the Charles University. So, seeing Stepan at his door was not a real surprise. Rather it was a common occurrence for Stepan to stop by to engage Evzen in conversation about the happenings around the university and in the Czech political scene.
"I just came by for one of our good chats, Professor," Stepan said. He knew what was weighing on his mind was evident in his stance. Professor Evzen's reaction to him told him as much.
"Please, Stepan, come sit." Evzen indicated a pair of seats at one end of his office where they might sit and talk in comfort.
Stepan crossed in front of Evzen to one of the proffered seats.
"What is on your mind?" Evzen probed.
Stepan was quiet for several moments. So many thoughts ran through his mind. Where to begin? Frustrated, he threw his hands up and exclaimed, "Where, Professor? Where did it all go awry?"
The state of the University was what weighed on Stepan’s mind. He was sure Evzen would glean this from their most recent conversations. In fact, Stepan concerned himself with the direction things were going under the new rector, Jan Hus. The man was busying himself teaching all manner of heresy.
Evzen turned the question back to Stepan. "What do you think precipitated the events that led to the current state of affairs?"
Stepan winced. If he was looking for easy answers, he came to the wrong place. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his attention rest on a spot on the floor as if the answer would magically appear there.
After several moments, Stepan came up with an answer. "Was it the changing of the votes here at the University?"
Evzen's expression did not change. "Perhaps. It was fortuitous that the King decreed our nation would have three votes instead of the one, while the foreigners would only have one vote instead of three."
Stepan sat upright again, folding his arms in a defensive posture. "Well, it gave more power to the Czechs, where the power belongs. We are, after all, in Czech lands. It just makes sense."
No reaction came from Evzen. His voice remained even. "That's all well and good, unless you consider that the majority of the University's faculty was made up of foreigners...a problem from the start, if my opinion matters for anything."
Stepan remembered Evzen was on his side. "Why did the king do something so drastic?"
Evzen shrugged a shoulder. "To keep the University voting the way he wanted them to. For the Pope he wanted."
Stepan eyed Evzen, his eyes reflecting his lack of understanding.
"This all began with a problem that had nothing to do with the University, but it came knocking on our front door. Here's how the story begins: Two men are vying for the papacy – Pope Gregory XII and Avignon Pope Benedict XIII. Well, the king fears Pope Gregory XII will interfere with him being crowned the Holy Roman Emperor, so what does he do? He renounces the Pope and declares the University remain neutral. That's a problem when three quarters of the University is German. And the king's answer to this is to change the voting rules."
Stepan was nodding, "I do remember now...and I knew the fallout of the king's decision wouldn't be good. I knew those Germans wouldn't stand for it."
"Indeed. With the mass exodus — for lack of a better term — of so many of our foreign professors and students...well, you know, Stepan, we were in a pitiful state. That's the only way something like this could have happened. They begin putting the pieces back together, and someone has to 'lead the way'..."
"Oh yes...Jan Hus, our great rector. How can a man whose teachings and ideals are contrary to the church be enjoying the favor of the court?"
"It is no secret to you he only enjoys the favor of the nobles. Those loyal to the king, like your father, are adamantly opposed to the man's teachings."
"Because the king hates Hus? Why then does he stand for Hus's appointment to rector?" Stepan asked, confused.
"Come now, Stepan. You know the king only cares about the papacy...that things go his way, and the University remains in his back pocket as far as the vote. It is his brother which burns with hatred for Hus."
Stepan nodded; the tangled web was unraveling for him. The politics were becoming clearer. But what of Hus? His heretical teachings must not be allowed to continue!
"Is there any way to stop Hus? To vote him out?" Stepan asked.
Evzen considered that for a moment before he spoke. "The University has banned the controversial works of Wycliff. It was long overdue, if you ask me."
"What has that to do with anything?"
"As you know, Hus," Evzen said the name with disdain, "has been influenced to a great extent by Wycliff. It is a significant battle to have won, Stepan. You cut the roots off the tree, the tree cannot survive."
"But that hasn't thus far, and won't, I tell you, stop his rise in popularity! So many of the students and professors have bought into his heresy completely! With Hus in such a prominent role and no one making any effort to stop him from teaching his heretical ideals, I fear...in fact, I know that my father will no longer see reason to support the University."
Evzen shook his head. It was evident to Stepan he did know this to be true.
"And what of your studies here?" Evzen asked, though he already knew the answer to that question, too.
Stepan sighed, turning to face his mentor. "I'm afraid I don't see any benefit in continuing my education under such a leader."
A noise behind Stepan disturbed his reverie and brought him back to the present.
"Why the long face?" Pavel, his chamber mate and best friend, broke into Stepan's thoughts.
Stepan moved from the window. "And how was your last exam?"
"Term is over! It's time to forget about all of this and think about the hunting holiday we've been talking about."
Stepan stepped away from the window, shifting his focus. "Yes, yes, it is. Did we convince Radek to come?"
"I spoke with him on my way here. After he checked his term scores, his attitude about going on holiday made a complete turn-around. You know how he can get so wrapped up in his schoolwork."
Stepan nodded, smiling. Radek was by far the quietest and most serious of their small group.
"He also told me of some recent developments with this whole papal debate." Pavel sat on his bed and removed his shoes.
Stepan raised an eyebrow, urging Pavel to continue, but he was certain it was the same news he had heard. For his own sake, he had kept himself as much in the know as possible about these issues.
"Sigismund has set up a council, the Council of Constance, to put an end to this papal schism and hear from Jan Hus."
Yes, this was news Stepan had heard. Sigismund was the king's brother, and no one wanted an end to the papal debate or an end to Jan Hus more than he did.
Seeing his friend's face darken, Pavel said, "I shouldn't have brought up something so controversial. We should be free from this place and celebrating. Planning our holiday is probably what our conversation should be about."
"Don't worry yourself, friend. These things don't bother me," he lied. "But you are right. Holiday it is. I am all set to leave at first light."
"I haven't seen Zdenek or Luc today, but I'm sure we can find them before nightfall and ensure they are ready to go."
"My father's hunting lodge will be the perfect get-away," Stepan said to himself more than to Pavel. "And he will be all too happy to see us."
"He'll be thrilled to see you for certain." Pavel said, smiling at his friend.
Stepan nodded back, but he was not convinced.
****
Karin rose just before dawn after yet another sleepless night. Dressing with haste, she wrapped herself in a shawl against the cool morning air. She was restless. But as she gazed around the room, she knew it was not for lack of comfort in her accommodations. Her room at the Royal Viscount's hunting lodge was far more than adequate.
The room was every bit as spacious as she had come to associate with the rooms in this chateau with its high ceilings and large living space. Oak wood floors were covered with blue-and-gold woven rugs. Karin's feet dug into the threads, quite warm. If the chilled air circling around the room had a color, it would, no doubt match the pale blue walls. She held the shawl tight and walked the perimeter of the rug around the mahogany furniture. Such a fine sitting area. Such a fine room. The gold and blue themes proved rather soothing. Karin sighed. Why couldn't her mind be still in such a marvelous atmosphere?
Some nights she slept for stretches of minutes from exhaustion, but her sleep was disrupted by the lightest sound and quite impossible to recapture once interrupted. She thought about her life, her childhood, her mother. Never could she have imagined finding herself in such isolation from all she knew — her parent's idea of imprisonment. And to what end, she still was not sure. It was true she had disappointed them, she supposed. Leaving the warmth of the rug, her feet bore the cold of the wooden floors as she gazed out the window. Was her sin truly so great it required such measures as this? Karin expected her mother to speak for her or at least to speak with her, to give her some further explanation, but there was none. Her mother had been more silent than ever. What was happening? What would happen? Night after night, the questions remained.
Shaking her head to clear her uneasy thoughts, she wrapped the shawl taut around herself and then slipped out into the early morning. One of the things she found solace in was her walks, which she took daily. On one of these walks, she found a place that was within fair walking distance of the chateau but secluded enough for her to sit, think, and pray. Her special place was near a blue stream – a place where the water tripped over stones as it made its way through the forest. The flowers were bright and the grass green and soft. She could be hidden from the prying eyes of those in the chateau. It had been her only source of solace in these last weeks. This spot was but two miles from the chateau. In fact, pieces of the chateau were still visible to her from this space in which she had found such seclusion, yet her safe place was hidden well enough in the tree line where she felt isolated from the goings-on of the hunting palace and the people within. Since she found this place, she had spent many hours here in deep thought, in prayer, and perhaps just in escape.
Dawn broke over the horizon. Karin paused to breathe in the new day and whisper a prayer of thanks. Her body swooned a little bit from exhaustion, but she opened her eyes and kept going. She was weaker today than ever before, but so it had the day before and the day before that. Such is the way it goes with exhaustion. How she wished she could find deep, replenishing sleep. She had been unable to shut down her mind. Perhaps she was not trusting God as she should? Trying to find a way on her own strength? Fighting for her own answers instead of leaning on Him to hold the next puzzle piece of her life? Something for my journal today, she decided.
Karin's favorite spot lay mere steps away. Once there she could rest. Rest. Oh, if only it would come. Her mind raced and her legs ached. She winced and lowered her head. As a young, vibrant woman, a two-mile walk should not wear on her body as if she were her mother's mother. Something was not balanced in her body. Just thinking about it made her head swim a little.
The field in front of her gave way to the stream. Karin moved to the left over to her tree — a steady oak, weathered by storms and long years. Its strong roots fed from the waters of the stream. Somewhere in its life, something affected its growth and caused it to angle to one side. The curved spot on the trunk made the perfect place for Karin to lean back and rest. She settled herself down next to the tree and captured a moment of peace. Breathing in, she let the stress of the days and the negative thoughts of the morning exhale from her body. Perhaps another breath would revitalize her being. Taking the fresh air into her lungs, she imagined it fed her body as much as it fed her soul.
After several breaths, she pulled out her journal papers to study and write about the thoughts which plagued her on her walk. She let the sounds of the stream and the morning birdsong soothe her as she dove into her work. These papers were so precious to her — so much so, she had kept them close to her and away from prying eyes for weeks. And now they were all that were left to her.
After some study time, words poured from her pen and into her journal until her lids grew heavy. Her sight blurred. She slumped forward, working to salvage her energy. Oh, Lord. If only she could stay awake a bit longer. Her pen could not rid her of the thoughts which tortured her so.
She knew the time to spend in thought and prayer these last few days had been a gift. Karin began to find her way through the maze of turmoil and back to her faith. With that in mind, she closed her eyes and offered silent words of gratitude. It was the first blissful sleep she'd had in weeks.
****
Earl Petr Bornekov gazed out of the window. The clouds opened up, and rain began to pour onto the thirsty earth. He did not celebrate the refreshing of the earth; he was concerned after his daughter. It was just past midday, and she had not been present at either of the meals served yet that day.
Hearing a noise behind him, he turned to see Mary standing timidly just inside the doorway. Her face was downcast. He knew she did not bear good news.
"Yes?" he said, his voice gruff. He tried to not let his anger get the best of him. Mary had been unable to account for Karin's whereabouts. She was only able to report that Karin had already left the room when Mary rose to get her dressed and that Karin had not returned. Who was at fault if not Mary? Petr tried to ask himself. But he knew Mary was not Karin's keeper.
"There is still no sign of the Lady Karin. The horsemen have returned empty-handed."
The muscles in Petr's jaw worked as he attempted to contain his emotions. Vlastik had sent a couple of horsemen out to look around the grounds for her.
"That will be all," he said dismissively as he fixed his gaze back toward the window. He did not watch, but the rustle of cloth let him know Mary had left the room.
Petr had been standing vigil in the golden parlor which overlooked the back of the chateau, giving him the best view of the forest line most of the day, hoping Karin would just show up. He would be the first to see if and when she appeared.
How could she have disappeared like this? Was she hurt somewhere? Was she dead — killed by an errant hunter's arrow? Had she run away? Were his overbearing demands of her too much? Had she been taken? If so, for what reason? These were all the questions running through Petr's head throughout the course of the morning. Each led to its own line of questions as well. And so he continued to go in circles, ineffective as it was. What more could he do? The only thing left for him was to go out in this torrential rain and look for her himself. So, that was what he decided to do.
As Petr moved toward the stables, he heard a commotion in the hall behind him. The Royal Viscount came into the parlor where he was, several young men trailing behind him.
"Petr, come, see how my son has grown into a man and meet his friends! They have arrived just before this horrid rain," Vlastik said, opening one arm for his friend to come and join them.
"I am only too eager to do so, my friend. But, I fear I cannot." There was worry etched on his face. He had not the presence of mind to disguise his features.
Vlastik's booming jovial voice was gone as he asked, "What troubles you, old friend?"
"Karin has still not returned. She is nowhere to be found in the chateau or the stables. No one has seen her since last night. I am certain she slipped out this morning for one of her walks, and I fear something has happened to her while walking in the forest."
Vlastik's eyes widened. Having forgotten the hour, he had neglected to keep track of whether or not Karin had been found.
"If this is the case, we must go at once." He spun to face the young men behind him. "Mount your horses, men, we must brave the rain for the sake of this young maiden's safe return!"
The young men moved down the hall with great haste toward the stables. Petr started behind.
"We should wait here in case she returns," Vlastik reasoned.
"I can't sit here and do nothing any longer," Petr said. "I must go."
Vlastik nodded. "Then I will go with you." He laid a meaty hand on Petr's shoulder.
"Thank you." Petr put his opposite hand on Vlastik's shoulder.
****
Karin lay still, her mind and body at odds. She pawed through darkness to reach consciousness, while her sleep-deprived body refused to awaken. Thunder rumbled, and rain drizzled atop her face. Stirring, she attempted to waken, but everything seemed almost dream-like — dark, damp, and dreary. Thunder sounded once more, and the sky cracked with a sound clap. Karin shuttered. It was clear that she needed to get to the chateau, but her body wouldn't rouse, and she slipped back into her unconscious bliss.
Voices called out, attempting to pull her toward consciousness.
"Pavel! I found her!"
She sensed someone leaning over her, hands on her wrists.
"Is she okay?"
"Her pulse is weak."
Karin struggled to open her eyes to tell them she was fine, but they were slow to work. After some moments, she forced her eyelids to obey. A pair of bright blue eyes met her green ones. Who did these eyes belong to? Trying to sit up, to push away, she wanted desperately to take in her surroundings, but nothing in her body would work.
"It's okay, it's okay," the voice belonging to the eyes said. "Be still, you are safe."
Another face appeared, "We are friends. I am the Royal Viscount’s son. Are you unwell?"
"No." Perhaps an untruth, but at least she managed one word. She struggled to sit up again.
"Here," the blue-eyed man said, sliding an arm under her shoulders to help her sit up at a slight angle to the ground. Those eyes were so captivating; it was hard to pull her eyes away from his. The other man seemed to be checking her for broken limbs.
It was dark. How long had she been asleep? No, not night, only raining. She was returning to herself a little more. Her papers! She reached for them, hoping to crumple them to herself before they could be seen.
"Don't worry, Milady," Vlastik's son said, "We won't leave those."
"No...it's," she tried to explain, but the darkness started to come over her again. "I can't..." The man with the blue eyes firmed his grip on her as she started to slide, and all was dark once again.
****
Mary moved about Karin's bedchambers, caught up in her own concerns about her mistress — and her own future employment — when she heard a commotion at the door. She reached the knob just before the door burst open. A small collection of men, one of which carried Karin, rushed inside. Turning, Mary was quick to make herself useful, directing the unfamiliar young man toward the bed. He brushed past her as if she wasn't even there, a determined look in his eye.
Petr hurried alongside as the young man laid Karin on the bed. Her eyes opened only to reveal slits of green. Everyone stopped in their tracks, as if afraid to breathe. Mary drew a hand over her mouth. Surely the mistress was alive?
"Who...?" Karin managed to croak out with much effort as she gazed up at the stranger who had borne her body such a distance. She made an effort to continue her question, but he stopped her.
"Pavel," he said, resting a hand on hers, "My name is Pavel."
Seemingly satisfied, she offered him a slight smile before closing her eyes once more.
"Karin!" Petr moved toward her, reaching for her hand as Pavel took a step back, moving out of his way.
Mary cleared her throat, trying to get the attention of the remaining men. "Let us give the Lady and his lordship some room to breathe until the doctor gets here."
The men nodded and made their way toward the door and out of the room. It did not escape Mary's notice that Pavel stole one last, long glance at her mistress's lax form.
****
Over the next several hours, Karin had more snatches of consciousness. In and out of reality. What was dream?
A physician examined her. Mary attempted to give her tea. Others talked to her or around her. All this fuss over a bit of drowsiness! Karin worked to speak, but words failed. Her limbs refused to obey and laid as if heavy weights at her side.
Karin's eventual return to sustained consciousness was slow. She felt as if she was climbing out of a pit; little by little, she inched her way toward the light. Then it occurred to her how strange it all was, how unlike any dream she had ever had. At first the light was but a pinpoint, and her progress was slow. Clawing at this invisible mire which held her in place was more effort than she thought she could muster; but as she got closer to the light, the mire became thinner and more aqueous. It seemed she moved as if swimming, and no longer constrained, it seemed as if the light rushed for her.
Karin's eyes fluttered opened, and she knew her hold on consciousness was firm; the darkness would not come for her again. She sent up a silent prayer of gratitude as she drank in the sights, sounds, and sensations around her. As she already knew, she was in her quarters at the hunting lodge. Someone had changed her into a night dress, and her hair fell loose around her. The nightshift and her hair clung to her as if her vision of swimming had been more than illusion. Her eyes adjusted, and what had seemed like incredible light before was now dim to her sight. Dark drapes had been drawn, and she could just faintly make out the sunlight in the window beyond.
How long had she been caught up in this strange sleep? It seemed like so many hours ago she had been in the meadow, but she did not trust her perception of the passage of time. She strained to listen for sounds beyond the doors to her bedchambers. There were movements in the hall, but how close or how far was difficult for her to distinguish. Testing the mobility of her limbs, she shifted to sit. Her muscles protested her movements, resisting but obeying with some hesitation. And so, with some effort, she was able to work her way into a sitting position.
That was when she heard a noise outside her room. There were footsteps in the hall. And whoever was there, came up to her door. She could only manage to turn her head in that direction and watch as the knob twisted. Mary entered carrying a tray of tea and fresh cloths. Seeing her mistress awake and struggling to sit up in the bed, Mary almost dropped her tray, catching herself in time to save the cup of hot liquid.
"Milady!" She rushed forward. "No, Milady, let me help you!" She grabbed for pillows to prop Karin up to take the strain off of her aching muscles.
Karin wanted to protest, but she couldn't deny how grateful her body was for the relief in effort. "Thank you, Mary," she croaked.
"I have your tea, Milady." Mary grasped the cup and held it over to Karin's mouth for her to sip.
Karin reached up to take the cup from her. "I thank you for your help, but I am strong enough."
"Of course." Mary relinquished the cup but insisted on patting down Karin's face and arms with the cool cloth. She was such a creature of habit, Karin mused. This must have been part of Mary's routine as well while Karin lay unconscious. Now that Karin was awake, it was wholly unnecessary, but her handmaiden only followed instructions given.
"Could you open the drapes, Mary? I would so like to see the sunlight."
Mary nodded and moved across the room.
"How long have I been in here like this?" Her voice grew stronger. The warmth of the tea helped.
"Seven days, Milady."
"Seven days?!" Her tea cup rattled. Mary rushed over to help steady it in her hands.
"Yes, you were quite sick for some time," Mary continued, turning away from Karin to continue her work around the room. She told Karin the story as if she were telling it for the hundredth time, "You were in a bad way when they brought you in, and no one could figure what had happened. When your father called for the doctor, he said it was poison."
"Poison?" Karin brushed a hand across her forehead. Could it be true?

Order Now!

<< Go Back