by Pavel Kornev
The lady unceremoniously set her hat right on the poet's drafts, placing her cape there as well, leaving her in an elegant dress with open shoulders and a deep neckline. After that, she sat down in an armchair and unbuttoned her bag, but immediately got distracted from its contents and fixed her stubborn gaze back on me.
"Take a seat!" she demanded, fidgeting with a strand of pearl beads. "You're so long and tall. When I look at you, my head spins circles!"
I took a look at the lieutenant, who was left at the door and turned the chair in order to have a view of him, at least from the very corner of my eye. Meanwhile the stranger, with the same tough calm, removed from her bag a glass syringe, a vial plugged with a rubber stopper, and a strap. When I saw these preparations, my heart nearly leapt out of my chest.
I was not about to let myself be pumped full of narcotics but, before I managed to jump out of the chair, the lady pulled off her long black glove and began deftly tying the strap around her own shoulder.
"I am a lady-in-waiting of her late Imperial Majesty the Queen Empress Victoria," she told me, pumping her hand measuredly. "I’m here representing her Highness the Crown Princess Anna. I warn you in advance, in order to avoid misunderstandings."
Then came a cautious knock at the door and, when it opened, one of the curtains gave a slow flutter in time.
A cross-breeze? Very interesting...
"Coffee's ready!" said the guard, who peeked into the office.
"Lieutenant!"
William Grace accepted the tray and brought it to the table. I caught his gaze and gave an involuntary shiver. The lieutenant looked at me like an underworld native.
At the same time, the lady poked the long needle into the rubber stopper of the vial, filled the syringe and gracefully expelled the remaining air from the glass cylinder.
"In the last years of the old lady's life, she saw conspiracies everywhere," the lady-in-waiting said, talking none-too-respectfully about the late Empress and staring stubbornly at Grace. "Lieutenant, why are you sniffling like a dog? Do you want to say something? Well, speak! I beg you, don't be ashamed!"
But the lieutenant preferred to keep silent.
The lady poked the needle into an engorged vein, undid the strap and pushed down on the plunger.
"The old hag pushed all the illustrious out of her inner circle, but she didn't dare get rid of me," the maid of honor said with a slightly slurring tongue as she sat back in the chair. "She couldn't get by without me. I'm an oracle."
The illustrious woman's eyes closed, and her chest started to heave slowly and measuredly, as if she was immersed in a deep sleep. I even started to doubt that there was a morphine solution in the vial. The drug was working too strongly and unusually.
The back of my head was burning unbearably from the stubborn gaze of the lieutenant, but I forced myself to calm down and even sat back in the chair. In the office, it smelled strongly of fresh baked goods and coffee, but those aromas only emphasized the absurdity of it all.
Suspicion ran down my spine with a light shiver, as if I was still lying in solitary confinement in the psychiatric clinic high on morphine and my escape had only been a narcotic-induced delusion. That put me beside myself; the only thing keeping me from panic was a clear understanding that my nightmares were always somewhat more straightforward and purposeful. The loose-lipped drug addict court lady just didn't fit the bill.
But as for William Grace, he easily could have easily been a problem in my dreams or in reality, so I gave a noticeable tug at my robe belt and tied a knot on one end. Sure, a belt was far from being a Kali Strangler's rumal, but it could do the job.
Suddenly, the lady-in-waiting’s back lurched. She exhaled loudly and, with a feverish jerk of her arm, ripped the strand of pearls. But she immediately went limp and fell back motionless in the armchair. The nacreous beads ripped off the string and fell onto the floor one after the next.
My eyes on them, I missed seeing her eyes open again. But now, they weren't her eyes at all. Now, they were shining with a clear light, which instantly drove back the shadows to the corners of the office.
"I can't see..." the woman whispered, holding her hand out in front of her, which froze me in place.
Not only her eyes had changed. Her vocal timbre was also totally different. She now sounded young and sonorous and, to match that, her face grew fresher and the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes smoothed out.
"I can't see..." the lady-in-waiting repeated, and the lieutenant waddled over nervously.
"Faster!" he hissed at me. "Touch her hand!"
I got up from the armchair and, holding the robe closed with my left hand, touched the oracle's palm with my right. Instantly, it was as if I was blasted with an electric shock. My mind was captivated by vibrant and painful images; I stumbled backward, breaking the contact and fell back in the chair but, before my eyes, there was still a vaguely familiar young girl’s face, pale and sickly thin.
"What the devil?" I couldn't hold back a curse, kneading my temples with my palms.
"It sometimes happens like that," followed the calm reply. "It will pass shortly."
And in an instant, I was left with no doubt that I was speaking with the Dreamer!
"You were totally different in my dream," the Dreamer said through the oracle's mouth after a brief pause.
Was the Dreamer a woman? In the face of the rejuvenated maid of honor there were clearly new features, but they only reinforced her femininity.
"Who are you?" I exhaled.
"The person you owe a service."
And then William Grace cut into the conversation.
"This is Leopold Orso, your Highness," he said, removing the cap from his head and placing it to his chest.
"Is that name supposed to mean something to me?"
"Leopold Orso!" Grace repeated. "You asked for his papers after the death of her Majesty. This is the man whose heart was transplanted into you!"
The oracle turned the gaze of her radiant eyes and asked in annoyance:
"Have you lost your mind, lieutenant?"
"Not at all, your Highness" Grace answered in a curt military fashion.
I could even feel a bit of empathy for him, but we were talking about my heart, and I wasn't so deeply moved by humanitarian ideas as to forgive someone who was involved in my murder. Even if it had failed, still...
But what did that mean? The Princess didn't know whose heart had been transplanted into her? She didn't know about me?
The oracle tried to get up from the chair, but her body wasn’t obeying her well, and the lady-in-waiting fell back down.
"Lieutenant!" now there was a metallic ring in the voice. "A person cannot live without a heart! Are you aware of that?!"
"Of course, your Highness! But this is him. I'm sure of that."
"How is that possible?"
"I haven't a clue! But may I be so bold as to remind you that the body of Leopold Orso disappeared from the operating room after the removal of his heart and, after that, one of the surgeons was found dead. Perhaps a second transplant was performed..."
The conversation had taken an undesired turn, but I didn't manage to do anything to avoid the catastrophe. The oracle stared at me with her lustrous eyes and asked:
"Is it really you?"
Any attempt to weasel out or dodge would be doomed to failure, so I simply raised my hand and waved.
"Hi, cousin!"
"Cousin..." Princess Anna's consciousness, possessing the body of the oracle, called back. "So, it's true?"
"Whew..."
"So that's why I could enter your dream!" the heiress to the throne guessed. "I have your heart! But how did you survive? Was there a second operation?"
The question put me in a difficult position–if I told the truth about my gift and the imaginary heart, I would instantly find myself in a comfortable cell with soft padded walls. No one would let a person go free, if their death would cause the heiress to the throne to also die. After all, if I w
ere no more, the Princess's new heart would cease to exist. And the last thing I wanted was to find myself in a lonely cell once again. But I didn't run for a flagrant lie, no matter how great the temptation.
"You haven't been wanting to howl at the moon lately?" I enquired with a smirk. "You don't get goosebumps from silver?"
"Balderdash!" the lieutenant couldn't hold back and even peeled himself from the doorframe but, as soon as the oracle threw up a hand, he immediately went back.
"Are you a werebeast, cousin?" the Princess asked, somehow very easily accepting my words.
I'm sure that I hit the mark on the silver.
"I was," I answered, watching the lieutenant with the corner of my eye. "But, after losing my heart, I was totally cured of the curse."
The oracle wrapped her arms around herself and stayed silent for a long time. Her eyes stopped burning like two lustrous flames. It even seemed that the trance had been broken but, then she opened her mouth again.
"That's impossible!" the Princess declared. "That simply cannot be!"
"If you say so, your Highness," I just laughed in reply.
"You aren't the person you claim to be! How did you get into my dream? What kind of game are you playing? Answer me at once!"
I pulled myself together, but the lieutenant reacted first. I didn't even have time to blink before he had me in the sights of his pocket Browning, hidden under the cap he'd removed from his head.
"No game!" I assured my cousin. "And it was you who entered my dream, not the other way around!"
"I need proof!" Princess Anna announced. "Prove that you are the person you claim to be! Prove that you are my cousin!"
The way she phrased the question dumbfounded me.
"What exactly do you want me to prove? Prove that I am me?"
"Prove that the heart was removed from you precisely!"
"Easy for you to say!" I objected, but then I heard the dry click of the pistol being cocked, and I had to grab at the first straw I came across. "Wait! Alright! I can prove it!"
I got up from the chair and threw open the robe. I left my groin covered with the right half, but exposed my chest with two scars and the eight-sided star opposite my heart without any embarrassment or abashment.
"Oh devil!" the Princess said expressively. "Cover yourself, cousin. And please sit down! Lieutenant, put your weapon away."
William Grace hid his weapon in his cloak pocket with a good degree of pity, while I lowered down in the armchair and asked:
"And what now?"
"I didn't know, cousin. I had no idea it was your heart. My grandmother didn't let me in on such details."
"What now, your Highness?"
The maid of honor went silent, but the silence didn't last long.
"You still owe me," the Princess declared. "And although I am embarrassed and upset at how you were treated, a deal is a deal. You gave your word."
With the corner of my eye, I noticed a curtain flutter at the far wall and clarified without particular interest:
"How can I be of use?"
"You'll find out in due time, cousin. You'll find out everything. I need to think it all over," came her vague answer, then the lady’s head fell limply on her chest.
An instant later, the lady seized up with her whole body, straightened out and led her unseeing gaze over the office. Her eyes were no longer beaming with an unearthly light. Now, they were just colorless and gray, with crimson threads of slightly engorged capillaries.
The trance had come to an end.
The maid of honor got up heavily from the chair and walked with the uneven gait of a drug user to the table, picking up a mug from the tray. With a shaky hand, she raised it to her mouth, sipped the cold coffee and looked at the lieutenant.
"I hope that was worth it," the oracle said, now in her normal voice.
"Without a doubt," William Grace assured her. "You did a wonderful job."
"Come now, what are you saying?!" the lady-in-waiting laughed acridly, taking a bun and smiling unkindly. "Well then, dear lieutenant, could you do me a kindness and pick up my pearls from the floor?" And, with sadistic satisfaction, she added: "There are exactly thirty-three."
William Grace looked expressively at me, but I was not about to crawl on the Persian rug in search of the nacreous beads and ignored his hint. The lieutenant had to go down on all fours himself and gather the lost pearls in a kerchief.
To be honest, I still felt an urge to whip my robe belt around his neck and pull the knot. I could barely restrain myself.
"There are only thirty-two pearls here," Grace said some time later. "I don't know where the last one could have rolled off to."
"The last one?" the maid of honor asked in surprise, chasing the strong sweet coffee with the bun. "For pity's sake, lieutenant, there are only thirty-two!"
William Grace got up from the floor, his cheeks burning in rage. And not for nothing. He had spent a good five minutes crawling on the dusty rug in search of a nonexistent pearl.
"You said thirty-three!"
"Oh, I'm just so scatterbrained today!" the maid of honor laughed, dumping the nacreous beads into her bag, then placing the syringe, vial and strap there as well. "Are we done?"
"Yes!" William Grace snarled and turned to me. "Don't leave town. We'll be in touch!"
I just waved my hand in reply, wanting to be left alone as quickly as possible.
The lady-in-waiting donned her hat, took her cape from the table and filed to the door with her former dancing gait, then turned and sent me an air kiss.
"Pay my respects to your cook! Excellent pastries!"
The lieutenant left the office after the maid of honor, but I was sitting motionless in the chair until I heard a knock at the door. And a moment later, I said:
"Come in!"
The curtain fluttered, and I was joined by Liliana, who was holding a pocket Mauser in her hand. Behind her, the door to an adjoining room, which was behind a curtain, appeared for a moment.
"What is happening, Leo?" the girl asked in alarm. "Who were those people? And why did that lady call you cousin? Are you related?"
"Take a seat," I pointed Liliana to the armchair, feverishly remembering the precise moment in the conversation when the drapes had fluttered a second time. And although that had been at the very end of our conversation, I had no way of imagining what exactly she'd managed to hear.
Lily fell back in the armchair, set the Mauser on the armrest and declared:
"I'm listening, Leo!"
"That woman is an oracle. Such is her talent. She fell into a trance and opened her mind for someone else. It's like a kind of wireless telephone, if you will."
"You were speaking with your cousin?" Liliana interrupted me. "Why didn't you tell me you had relatives before?"
"I don't have a relationship with them. I got into a court case with some of them over inheritance, and I’ve just never talked with the others."
"And some of them send armed people and an oracle to you! And who was that lieutenant? Military?"
Every answer spawned a whole avalanche of new questions, so I tried to give as condensed a version of the story as possible.
"Lily, I landed in some trouble, and was forced to contact distant relatives for help. And now I owe them a service."
"And me?" the girl flared up in rage and shame. "Why didn't you ask me for help?"
"It wasn't the right situation..."
"My father has high connections, you don't know!"
"I didn't want to involve you or your relatives."
"Empty words!" Liliana exploded, jumping out of the office.
I raised up with a groan from the armchair and hurried after my girlfriend, but she ran quickly up the stairs and I simply didn't have the strength for such a feat.
Anyway, what would I have said to her? The truth?
That thought made ants crawl up my spine and then, as if I didn't have enough to worry about, I got another knock at the door.
4
"Viscount!" he was filled with joy. "I'm insanely glad to see you in good health! You disappeared so suddenly, I was horribly afraid that something bad might have happened! I even paid an advance to a lawyer, so he could get to work without any delay. Was that right?"
"You did everything right, maître." I gave a subdued smile and stared at Ramon with surprise as he dragged a fairly large chest into the house with his nephew.
The lawyer caught my gaze and explained:
"Viscount, these are the effects from your family manor. I took it upon myself to bring them with me..."
I just sighed and looked in confusion at Mrs. Hardy. My title as Viscount had forced the housekeeper to forget the visit of armed people for a time, and she called Ramon after her.
"Bring it into the storeroom!"
Based on the reddened cheeks and aroma of expensive brandy, Mrs. Hardy had taken advantage of Albert's bar to calm her nerves. In her place, I also would have drained a glass or two of the hard stuff.
Remembering the rum I drank this morning, nausea rose up in my throat. I feverishly swallowed and led my attorney to the poet's office, meanwhile sticking the revolver in my robe pocket.
"Gosh, I feel bad distracting you now..." the lawyer started to worry, but I didn't even listen to him and raked Albert's drafts to the edge of the table.
"I need a check drawn up for fifty thousand francs," I asked and fell into the deep armchair. "Made out to cash."
My attorney set a leather briefcase on his knees and even unclipped it, but started doubting and asked:
"Are you sure, Viscount? Fifty thousand made out to cash? That is a massive sum!"
"It's a debt of honor," I answered simply, deciding to avoid endless interrogation that way. And I wasn't wrong: my attorney shook his head, took out a pen with a silver quill and started filling out the check.
