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Updated: June 26, 2025
I do not believe you have had a mouthful to eat to-day. Now, have you?" The Cockney smiled. "I forgot, sir," he answered almost shyly, elated with the words of approval he had won. The next day in solemn conclave the Counselors decided that the time had come to bring the King to Krovitch. "All is ready," said the grizzled Sutphen, "to inaugurate his reign with the fall of Schallberg."
Just think what chance Krovitch would have for a man to rule her people, and lead them in their battles if it wasn't for this same loyal, disinterested Josef? Do you wonder I hold him in such high esteem?" There was a gentle reproof in the Duchess's tones. "But why," persisted the somewhat mollified Natalie, "did your paragon fib so to me?" "We'll go and see now, dear. Marie has finished my hair."
When dinner was spread, Trusia seemed pale and depressed as though the anticipated meeting with her unknown fiancé was not fraught with joy. Rallying herself, however, she was soon as much a centre of attraction as a sparkling fountain in a park is to feathered citizens on a sultry summer day. The wine of Krovitch, unfamiliar to Carter, was quite heady.
"But the great M. Lourney praised the conception, the breadth, of this, your last picture," the girl said, as her hand pushed lightly through the shock of curls on the man's head. "Yes, it is good," he said responsively, both to the hope she inspired and the caress she bestowed. That girl understood men. "Krovitch the Bulwark," he continued. "They were a great people, Marie.
Then Trusia, beautiful and desirable, Trusia, the woman, rebelled that destiny should have ignored her in the plans for Trusia the princess. "I will never see you again as a dear friend after you have gone. But I but Krovitch will never forget you." Then in her royal pride that felt no noble confession could shame her womanhood, she turned almost fiercely upon him.
"You ought to know me better. I never take 'no' for an answer." Carter's pride glowed in his face as he made this reply. "The Duchess of Schallberg," announced Zulka, "will marry the King of Krovitch to unite the two houses. She has pledged herself." This seemingly irrelevant announcement was made through a swirling cloud of smoke. "So?"
Patiently, devotedly, for two centuries have they waited for this day to dawn, the first opportunity that Krovitch has had to take back her own from the despoiler of Europe.
If such were the case his fate was undoubtedly sealed, for he had invoked this very test this meeting was to vouch for his sincerity. His mind went rapidly back over the whole period of his acquaintance with the Krovitch nobleman, to recall if there had been any indication of such a poltroon trait in Paul Zulka's character. He was, in justice, forced to deny the existence of any such.
Carrick, with some difficulty, pushed his way through the crowd and was soon at his master's side. "'Ave a pleasant trip, sir?" he asked, his mobile countenance abeam with joy at the meeting. The aide cast a significant glance at the crowd, then at the Krovitch standard, before replying. "Fairly, Carrick," he said.
It stopped suddenly as he leaned closer to study the pink plot on which it rested. "Krovitch; Krovitch!" he muttered, "now where the devil have I heard of Krovitch? Russian province it seems but that doesn't give me any clue. I'm stuck, Carrick," he said with a frank laugh as he looked up to meet the man's responsive smile. "Can I 'elp you, sir?" He leaned over Carter's shoulder.
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