I know, I should be staked for making you all wait this long, but I feel terrible because my loyal friend and reviewer Remember has had such a horrible week, I decided I could manage to update one chapter to try and make her feel better. Remember of course, you reviews make me so happy, it kills me that you feel so sad right now. I'd like to thank some other people that reviewed: Just To Be, The Dancing Cavalier (singing in the rain? I love that movie!), Fortune Zyne, Princess Airiana and Shero. You are all so kind, that's a bunch. You should all hate this new character Ira, but if I've done my job, I shouldn't need to tell you that!
Chapter 7: Ira Grossinov
Standislav awoke to the sound of his sister merrily singing about something that he was too fatigued to comprehend. He guessed that it was something that Ivan had done that Lucinda found irresistibly adorable. "Just delightful," he thought. He could now be forced to listen to that all day.
Slowly and painfully he pulled himself out of bed and began to dress for the cold day that awaited him. Quietly he walked down the stairs of his house to the kitchen where he knew a divine feast of hard bread and water awaited him. If he was lucky, there might be a small drop of milk, but that was not likely.
By no means did he want to go down stairs to face the family that he was developing more hatred for each day. Now that he was more certain about the circumstances of his sister's death he could not believe the way in which his family was sweeping that part of their lives under the carpet. However since there was nothing he could do to stop his family's stupidity, he reached the kitchen and groggily sat down at the table. Immediately his mother brought him a plate of bread and cheese and he absentmindedly began to eat.
"And then he took my hand and kissed me. I floated all the way home," she said, spinning around in the kitchen like a fool.
"That's wonderful dear," Mirela said, absently while she bustled about the kitchen.
The family's in-depth conversation was interrupted by a loud and obnoxious knock at the door. Abruptly stopping her tasks in the kitchen, Mirela briskly walked to the door and opened it. Unfortunately, standing there was the unruly and scruffy form of Ira Grossinov.
"Mr. Grossinov, how may I.." she started.
"I'm here for my money," he interrupted with his gruff, hard and thick accent.
"Surely it's not proper that you..." she began again.
"I've given you all a month to grieve for the wench, now I believe a refund is in order," he demanded more sternly.
Ira Grossinov was a man of about thirty eight and was downright hideous. He had black, untrimmed hair and rich brown eyes. He possessed the most scruffy looking beard you'd ever seen in your life and he wore the traditional clothing of middle class men in Bucovina however it did nothing to hide his rotund and less appealing physique.
Viktor slowly got up from the table and went to the door to stand behind his wife. "Ira, you and I both failed to think of an agreement should Mayvn die. But please, our family has just suffered a tragedy. Do not ask this of us," Viktor pleaded.
"HA! A tragedy? You and your family have made it clear that you hardly feel hurt by her passing," Ira said.
"And the sum you demand is?" Viktor asked.
"1,500, exactly what I paid you," he said.
"We were going to use that money for our other daughter's wedding," Mirela said, weakly.
"Hmmm, lovely, now the money," Ira urged. Nodding, Viktor made his way upstairs to his bedroom and retrieved the pouch of money from under the mattress. Returning to where Ira waited at the front door.
"Here's the money. Take it and go," Viktor mumbled, defeated. Smiling and revealing yellow and rotting teeth, Ira walked away, victorious. Having heard the whole conversation from his place at the kitchen table, Standislav got up from his chair and began to follow Ira.
"Mr. Grossinov! Mr. Grossinov wait," Standislav called. However Ira did not stop walking and Standislav was force to jog after him. "Please wait."
"What do you want, boy?" he demanded.
"I just think you should reconsider," he panted.
"Oh yeah, and I suppose you were going to use that money to go to school," Ira spat.
"I just thought you wanted to marry Mayvn so badly you'd have some consideration for her family," Standislav snapped.
"Son, I paid your parents to make Mayvn marry me because they didn't want her to do it anymore than she did. There were afraid she'd do something to embarrass your family but apparently, they couldn't refuse 1,500 pieces of gold. Your sister would have made a fine trophy wife and I was determined to get that placed on my mantel. Look's like my search continues," he said, walking off into the village.
Despite the fact that Standislav was furious at Ira for trying to buy his sister and then dishonoring her in death, he couldn't help but feel grateful that Mayvn was what she was. Although she had not said who her master was, he could imagine that he must at least be better looking than Ira. As he was thinking about Mayvn he remembered: with no more money from Ira, his family was likely to sell Mayvn's weaponry.
Practically sprinting back to his house, Standislav burst into Lucinda's bedroom and felt under Mayvn's old bed for her sword. He heaved a sigh of relief when he felt its metal hilt. However he had a feeling that wouldn't last so he carefully gathered all of her weapons and brought them to his room. Laying them down on his bed, he admired the craftsmanship of Mayvn's sword. Two snakes with black diamonds for eyes were entwined around the handle. On her two long swords, two rubies were imbedded in each of the handles in the shape of tear drops.
is bed, he admired the craftsmanship of Mayvn's sword. Two snakes with black diamonds for eyes were entwined around the handle. On her two long swords, two rubies were imbedded in each of the handles in the shape of tear drops.
How Mayvn had come across such fine weapons was a mystery to even Standislav, but so many things about Mayvn were a mystery and so he wasn't going to look to far into it. Relieved that he had secured her belongings for the moment, he backed away from his bed took a seat at his desk. Slowly but confidently he gently took out a piece of parchment and dipped his quill into ink. His few possession for writing were seldom gifts from his parents that he was extremely grateful for. With great care he started to write a letter.
Dear Mayvn,
I have done as you asked of me and retrieved your weapons. You did not tell me who your sire is, and since you never confided in me I don't expect you to. However there is something I want you to know. I never paid any attention to the lies and judgment that everyone subjected you to. You were always a honest, brave and loyal sister and I feel as if I tried but failed to be all that in a brother to you. The selfish part of me still prays that you were here with me so that I would be able to prove myself a better brother to you. Although you seem unhappy with this man, this vampire, your master, I believe that he is your chance; to start anew and to perhaps enjoy your time on earth. Please remember my words and take them to heart. Don't dwell on our family for an eternity. Let us go.
With all my love,
Standislav.
While he carefully tied the note to the sword he paused, having heard a slight tap at his window. As he got up to see what was making the noise, he was surprised to find Radka standing outside his window with another stone in hand.
"All right, I'm here. No need to break a window," he smiled, "What is it?"
"Do you want to go to school, Stan?" she asked, innocently looking up at him.
"What? Why are you asking me that?" he inquired, leaning against the window sill.
"I uh... look, could you come down here please?" she asked, uneasily shifting from foot to foot. She was wearing a simple cloth dress with a brown shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Her straight, shoulder-length hair was blowing in her face from the cold wind.
Having hurried down the stairs, Standislav walked out of his front door and immediately went to Radka. With some tears staining her face she embraced him tightly.
"What's wrong?" he asked, concerned.
"Nothing, nothing's wrong. A man from London came this morning doing business with my father. He said he's on his way to Bucharest to become a professor at a university there. So I asked him about it, and he said that the goal of the university is to help rural people get a better education," she said, seeming to become more upset as she went on.
"So, what's wrong? That's great," Standislav exclaimed.
"Well, Bucharest is a very long train ride away and you know, once you manage to get out of a place like this, there's really no point in coming back so..." she paused for a moment with tears in her eyes, "I'll miss you." Radka then started to walk away, wrapping her arms around herself to hold back tears.
"Radka, wait! Please, wait," he called, jogging after her. She did not stop walking and so he called after her.
"I haven't even decided yet!" he protested. At that remark, Radka stopped right in her tracks and turned to face him.
"No! You don't get to decide. This is the opportunity of a life time for you and you are going to take it and never look back," she yelled before storming off again.
A part of Standislav was too hurt to argue with her. Another was simply astonished at how right she was. However he wished it was as simple as she had said. But he could not simple leave and not look back. Radka had become too important to him and so leaving her and never coming back was not an option.
However he could tell that she needed time to cool down and so he decided he could wait to tell her that he wasn't going anywhere without her. Though, he wasn't exactly sure how he was going to bring her with. That would require a sum of money that not even Standislav