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Updated: June 7, 2025
The poorly turned speech awoke a slight defiance in Trusia's heart. It was oversoon, she thought, for her King to patronize her. "Your Majesty mistakes," was the quick retort, "my homage is to Krovitch. We are equals you and I." "I could ask no greater distinction than equality with you." Stovik's answer was a pattern of humility, which Trusia in her loyalty was quick to see. Her face softened.
He spoke in a tone too low for Carter's ear, but Trusia, turning, conveyed to her escort the substance of his remarks. "He says that he already has guests uninvited ones in his home. A Cossack picket has been quartered upon him. At present they are asleep. He learned of our possible fate from them, and waited at the window, watching for such chance stragglers as might escape.
That Trusia, Duchess of Schallberg, was a very lovely young woman Carter found himself mentally confessing with no small degree of enthusiasm, while his heart warmed at her sweet effusiveness. "Do you really and truly mean it?" she continued as she placed a small, firm palm in his, man-wise. "You have come all the way from that wonderful country of yours to join us?"
If Krovitch wins and I'm alive, I'll go back to New York. If she loses, our lives must purchase her safety, should that be the price. It will be Trusia first, then." "It will always be Trusia," said Zulka. Carter nodded his understanding. "Come, Carter!" Zulka said almost brusquely, "enough of sentiment. We must dress for the levee. I can fit you out in clothes."
"Trusia," he cried ecstatically. "Please be quiet," responded an unfamiliar voice in a tone of undemurrable authority. He pondered. He puzzled. Finally he gathered courage to speak. "Who are you?" he queried dubiously. "I am the nurse," came back indulgently through the dim haze of semi-consciousness still enveloping him.
"Sorry we can't have your help," he remarked to Carter; "you have the place of honor, though. No need to caution you. Go now. Go quickly." "Wait," said Trusia, holding up a denying hand. "See, they are sending out a single rider around our flank." A courier detaching himself from the main body of their foes could be seen making his way past their line through the wilderness.
Disregarding the curt command, Carter, still holding Trusia in his arms, leaped lightly from the car and would have carried her into the castle had not the elderly soldier barred his way. With face crimson every glistening hair seemed to flash the lightning of his unspeakable rage at such presumption. "Monsieur," said Carter with level eyes, "let me pass.
"Duchess! Lady Trusia," stammered the flushing, self-conscious king embarrassed by the kiss upon his hand, "I fear I am unworthy of such devotion. Unused to courtly custom I feel that I should rather render homage unto you. They tell me, these friends who say that they are my subjects, that I am your debtor. My obligations may already be beyond discharge. Add no more by obeisance."
The question of indebtedness we will not pursue. It is not a good basis of friendship." This was the Duchess of Schallberg; the possible aspirant to its throne? "You you are Trusia?" he stammered. "I am the Lady Trusia," she corrected gently. "Which wye?" asked Carrick who, having started the auto, kept his eyes steadily on the road in front of him and shot the question over his shoulder.
The Holder of the Purse leaned back. With a satisfied air, Sutphen turned to him. "That the club to which your nephew, Count Paul, belonged?" he asked. "Yes," he said genially. "I am Paul Zulka's uncle," he explained to Carter. "Did he ever mention a Calvert Carter as among his associates there?" queried a lenient Trusia. The Holder of the Purse spread out two fat palms deprecatingly.
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