Listen To The Music That Goes Along With This Chapter.

~July - 1900~

Vladimir, 25 years of age, breathed in the sweet scent of summer as he walked along the path down to the horse stables.  The birds twittered, the smell of cut grass and blossoms filled the air, and the small stream that ran through the Vasilovich Estate churned and swirled to a delicate beat.  A perfect day to be alive and enjoying life, one of Vlad's favorite pastimes.  It had turned out to be a beautiful summer, even though some had predicted rainy weather for the year of 1900.  It was the turn of the century, a bright time for all.  Inventions were popping up everywhere, the monarchy was in firm control lead by His Majesty, Czar Nicholas II, and Russia was a world power.  Of course, all may seem sunny on the outside but on the inside it may still be wet and damp, as Vlad all too well knew.

As he reached the stables he fidgeted when he saw the snow white horse Chaka still being kept inside her stable.  Chaka hadn't done anything to deserve being kept inside her horse stall like that for four months -- except being Kosma's favorite horse.  Kosma, Vlad's younger
brother, had died a short time ago of tuberculoses at age 17.  Vlad, being the eldest of three children, had tried to keep the family together the best that he could.  Father had been out on business in his province Vointsky when Kosma had died and Vlad had been left to arrange the funeral and memorial services.  He blinked as he remembered his younger brother getting on Chaka and riding off with him and their sister Lara. What fun they had together then...

"Your usual horse?" Yakov the stable hand asked.  Vlad shook his head.

"No.  I think I'll take Chaka out today."

"But sir!  My Lord, Count Vasili..."

"Shall not know of this," Vlad said.  He knew that Father had banned the unfortunate horse from being ridden again except for excersing purposes, and if it wasn't for Vlad's intervention Chaka would be put down, or worse burned, like everything else that Kosma had once had to prevent the spread of the consumption.  So little they knew about this disease -- what caused it?  Why did it strike when it did?  Medical Science had yet to come up with answers and it was too late now anyway, Vlad thought.  Only his sister Lara had hope for a discovery to prevent other young men from having the same fate as Kosma.  Let her deal with the worry...it was still too heavy on his heart to try.

Vlad set off on Chaka, riding gently.  What a confusing year.  He felt like he had to get away, leave Vointsky altogether.  Vointsky was his father's rather smallish province, and soon to be his.  They lived on the edge of it and there were a few estates for other nobility built up around and just barely on it, as well as the sharecroppers who worked for them in exchange for board and little pay.  Father was so proud of having a son and heir like Vladimir, so handsome, strong, and kind.  He had held Vlad up as a child and had given him his name right there; Vladimir for Uncle Vladimir who had died sometime ago; Vanya for a dear friend of theirs, Baron Vanya, close relative to the Romanovs themselves, who had taught Vlad the way of drinking Vodka (without his mother's knowledge, of course); Vointsky for the province that would one day be left to him; and, of course, Vasilovich.

As he viewed the estate, he began to become weary of such a slow trot.  He wanted to get away from his Father's Estate for a little while, to forget what he had witnessed last night, to forget the inevitable.

His mother, the once Baroness Natasha Sorkov, had mentioned to Lara the prospect of marriage to a neighboring Marquess the night before.  Lara had thrown a tantrum and stormed out of the room, for reasons that only Vlad knew.  Lara was in love with a Jew, a practically fatal sin in a very Orthadox Society.  Mikhail Moisse had sworn to Lara his everlasting love, and Lara being the naive one that she was had agreed to elope with him later this month.  She told Vlad and he had promised not to tell, but he couldn't just remain SILENT about something like this.  He had to tell someone!  He of course was hardly one to criticize when it came to love.  He was always in love with the idea of love, but had found no one for himself yet.  And the years were tacking themselves on...He was getting older and older.  Oh, he had had brief flings here and there, but there was no one who was an eternal romantic such as himself, no one that realized the value of true love and how hard it was to find, and once found must be kept tightly to you in protection.

He sped Chaka up.  Chaka, who was pleased to be out of his stable after four long months of immobility except for the once a week exercise sessions with Yakov, complied all too well.  He went from a gentle trot, to a gait, to a gallop.  Vlad hung on, trying to rear Chaka up before they reached the old wooden fence that he knew lay ahead that separated the Vasilovich Estate with the empty one next door.  Too late.

Vlad was thrown over Chaka's head as the horse stopped.  He rolled in mud and grime, then finally sat up.  He looked down at his clothes. Filthy!  He rubbed his face with his large hand and stood up, glaring at Chaka.

"Prablyema," he said in his thick Russian accent while shaking his finger scoldingly.  "You are a problem."  The horse's blue eyes danced playfully as he watched the large Russian shake his head at him.  Vlad was built very strong and very tall, an all around big man with a big voice.  He knew he'd probably gain weight over the years and be as big horizontally as he was vertically, but for now he enjoyed his large size.  All muscle and no fat...yet, of course.  He smiled to himself, then heard a soft sound behind him.  It was giggles!  Someone was giggling at HIM of all people!

He turned around and saw a girl slightly younger than himself trying to hide a smile behind her hand.  She was pretty and voluptuous, and she looked at him with the most extraordinary blue eyes he'd ever seen.  Her blond hair reflected the light of the sun off it and reminded him of his
father's gold cane that he had started using lately.  She was beautiful.  He blushed as they looked at each other.

He finally found his voice first.  "Hello."

"Bonjour," she said in a high French voice.  He blinked.  French?

"Vous êtes français?" he asked unsteadily in French, one of the languages that all aristocracy knew -- at least those who were ANYBODY in Russia.  She moved her head from side to side slightly and laughed.

"Oui, I am French.  Well, a little French, a little Russian," she answered in Russian.  She held out her hand.  "My name is Sophie."

He was taken aback by this girl.  She didn't do anything like the other girls did, no curtsies, no telling her rank.  He could already see that she was outspoken and obviously bubbly as well.  He took her hand and shook it.  A handshake!  A girl shaking hands!  She wasn't one of those pushovers, was she? He liked her already.

"My name is Cou...I mean, Vladimir," he said, choosing to ignore his full title in hopes of not intimidating her.  She grinned.

"Hello, Vladimir."

"Hello, Sophie."

"I see you had a fall," she said as she pulled her hand back, covered in mud from his.  He blushed and wiped his hand on his pants quickly.

"Um, yes.  Chaka isn't quite used to jumping fences."

"Ah," she said.  "Well, welcome to my estate."

"YOUR estate?" Vlad said.  "I'm afraid there's a mistake, Mademoiselle..." At least he hoped she was a 'Mademoiselle' and not a 'Madame'.  "This estate is empty."

"WAS empty," she said, "my father just bought it."

"YOUR father?"

"Oui.  What, do you find that a mistake?"  She looked at him casually.

"No, of course not," Vlad said hurriedly.  Who had bought the estate?  A neighbor...and a very pretty one at that.  He grinned to himself.

"My family owns that estate," he said, motioning to the field he had just come from.  Sophie gasped.

"Oh my!  You are the son of Count Vasili?"

"Yes," Vlad said as he felt heat rise from his neck and into his cheeks, stinging persistently. He gulped.  "Would you and your parents like to come visit for awhile?  My mother is home, as well as my younger sister Lara..."

"My parents aren't home," Sophie said apologetically, holding out her hands in a shrug.  "They're in St. Petersburg until next week."

He felt his heart tug, urging him to continue, to keep talking to her.  "Ah, but you still must come!  My mother would be so pleased to meet our new neighbors."

"But...I don't think so..."

"Nonsense!  Come!"  Vlad turned away from her and scanned the fence for a gate.  "Let me just go find a gate..."

"No need," Sophie said.  He whirled back around and saw her on the other side, petting Chaka.  His eyes widened but he absently climbed over after her and they walked Chaka back to the stables, then up to the house as they got to know each other.

Lara was sewing restlessly by the window of the old mansion, wishing that Vlad would come back as she stabbed the needle in and out of it's fine material.  It was positively horrifying to be sitting in this room with Mother babbling about Dukes, Lords, and other eligible bachelors near them.  Poor Mikhail had nothing to offer Father, but oh, he was so handsome...Lara dreamily stared up at the ceiling until she felt a prick.

"Ow!"

"Lara!" her mother sighed, seeing Lara stick her finger in her mouth.  "Please don't do that and concentrate!  Who wants a wife who doesn't know how to be genteel and ladylike?"

"Mikhail," she mumbled, rubbing her finger.  She was about to say it louder when she heard laughs.  She turned and looked out the window to see Vlad walking with a pretty young girl.  She blinked.  Hadn't Vlad worn blue pants this morning instead of muddy brown...?

"Mother!  Lara!  Look who I found!"

Lara stood anxiously, pleased that Vlad was back to save her from the torture of Mother's talking.

"Zdrastvuytye!" Lara said, using the lengthy Russian hello.  Sophie smiled.

"Bonjour!"

Lara exchanged glances with Vlad, who smiled, his dark eyes dancing.

"Lara, Mother, this is our new neighbor, Sophie."

"Sophie who?" Natasha asked sharply.

"Sophie..."  He realized he didn't know her last name.  He turned to
look at his guest.

"Lady Sophie Stanislovskievna Somorkov-Smirnoff."

Natasha raised her eyebrows at the title.  "Lady?  Your father is...just...a Lord?"  It was obvious where Natasha's head and heart's loyalties lay.

Sophie blushed as Vlad scowled at his mother.  How dare she make his visitor feel so low!

"Oui, Madame."

"And a FRENCH Lord at that," she added.  "If you'll excuse me, I'll summon the servants and have them fix some tea."  She turned and left the room in a sweep.  Lara made a face behind her mother's back then smiled warmly at Sophie.

"Please sit and tell us of your travels.  Are you really from France?  Oh, I've always wanted to go to France!"  She sat down in the chair excitedly.

"Well," Sophie said, sitting in a plush chair beside the empty fireplace, enjoying the attention, "I am from Paris, as is my mother, Marielle Gaspard.  My father is Russian."

"Really?  What is Paris like??" Lara asked anxiously, leaning her head in her hand.  Vlad cleared his throat and Lara sat up straighter.  She smirked and undid her long auburn hair from it's pins.  Vlad frowned.  She shrugged.  "They were cutting into my scalp."  Sophie grinned at her.

"Aren't those little pins annoying?  I detest them myself, so sharp and pointy...Oh, but about France!  Paree is wonderful!  The streets, the crowds, the buildings..."

For the next hour Sophie told of her travels and of Paris.  Vlad and Lara, who had never left Vointksy except for the rare trip to St. Petersburg, listened with rapt attention as the outgoing Sophie weaved the tapestry of France's capitol.  They learned of the elegant Louve, the Sacré-Coeur, Les Invalides, even of the slums of Saint-Michele, where Sophie said she often visited to give out money and food along with her cousin Marie.

"And, oh, the mansion that Marie summers in..."

"Marie?  Who's Marie?" Lara asked.  Vlad was about to scold for interrupting when Sophie gave her a questioning look.

"Who's Marie?" she laughed happily.  "Marie Romanov."

"MARIE ROMANOV!" Vlad cried as he sat up straighter in his chair.  "Are you talking about THE Marie Romanov?  As in Dowager Empress Marie?  As in our Noble Czar's MOTHER, Marie Romanov?"

Sophie giggled.  "Of course!  Who else would I be speaking of?"

Lara and Vlad exchanged glances.  Someone cleared their throat and they turned to see Mother standing with -- oh, it was Father!  He was back from his travels to Moscow!

"Father!" Lara cried, standing up and running to her father.  Vasili hugged his daughter tightly.

"Hello, Vladimir.  Hello...Madame."

"Mademoiselle," Sophie said as she held out her hand coquetteishly, a smile creeping across her lips.  Vlad silently rejoiced at the announcing of Sophie's marriage status and stood, as did Sophie.  Vasili kissed her hand.

"I see my children have been entertaining you.  May I ask your name?"

"She is from the neighboring estate," Natasha said.  "A LORD Stanislov's daughter."  She said the title with a tinge of disgust as she looked at Sophie.

Vasili blinked.  "Did you say LORD Stanislov?  As in Lord Stanislov Smorokov-Smirnoff?  Cousin to the Dowager Empress Marie?"

Vlad nodded eagerly.  "That's right!  She was just telling us about her!"

Natasha gasped.  "You're related to ROYALTY?"  She sank down on the plush sofa in shock.

Sophie shrugged non-chalently.  "It seems that way, does it not?"

Vasili looked at Vlad and winked.  "Then I am all the more glad that my son has befriended a lovely lady such as yourself."

Sophie grinned and looked at Vlad.  "As am I, Monsieur."

Vlad blushed.  This girl just may hold to key to letting all his prayers come true.

~*~ The days of that month went by all too fast for Vlad's taste. Next Saturday night Lara was leaving.  They had a little over a week.  He wanted to tell Sophie, who he spent his days with now, but he couldn't betray Lara's trust.  Too much was riding on this plan.  Oh, he'd miss his younger sister, more than he could ever tell, he knew, but he couldn't stop her.  He couldn't see her inner fire extinguished by his mother and her hopes for Lara and a proper marriage any longer.

Saturday finally came.  He invited Sophie over for brunch, hoping his 'tres heureuxeuse' friend could calm him.  Vlad paced around the house in a frenzied state.  Lara sat in her room, staring dreamily out the window.  She had some of her things already packed and hidden in Vlad's room.  She planned to go out of his terrace balcony that night, climbing down a ladder that Vlad had found earlier that week in the gardener's shed and guaranteed would be there for her.  Sophie soon figured out that something was going on, especially when Vlad turned down the homemade pie she had brought over.  Vladdy never turned down dessert.

"Vlad," she said quietly as she sat by their empty fireplace watching Vlad pace at the mantle.  "Vlad, what's going on?"

He looked over at her.  "Nothing.  Nothing at all."

Sophie sighed and rested her head in her hands.  Why didn't he answer her truthfully?

"Mon ami, in Paris we'd call you a 'homme fardeau' -- a burdened man.  You can trust me."

Vlad sighed.  Should he betray Lara like this?  He had to tell SOMEONE, he just had too, before it ate away at him!  He sat down beside Sophie on the settee and told her everything -- about Mikhail, Lara's naiveté, their plan for getting her out.

"They're traveling to St. Petersburg, then out of the country! Forever!"

Sophie gasped.  "When are they to get married?"

"As soon as they leave, at a church just outside of the city.  I want to go as a relative of the family to give her away, but I can't.  It'd be too risky."

Sophie's eyes brightened.  "I have an idea!"

Sophie quickly told her plan to Vlad.  They ran upstairs to Lara's room.  Lara was sitting by the veranda window, looking outside at the flowing river dreamily.  Vlad paused at the doorway, but Sophie continued in.  She looked outside to where she staring, then gasped.

"Who...WHAT is that?"

Vlad looked out by Sophie. Lara smiled up at them.  Mikhail was standing across the river, holding up a red sign!

"What does that mean?" Vlad asked.  Lara laughed.

"It means he loves me.  A white sign means to be wary.  A blue one means that he will send me a message soon.  And look."  She pointed to one of lacy slips that she had attached to the knob of a window.  Vlad gasped but Lara just continued to grin.  "It means that I love him too, and that I await any message he has to send."

Vlad reached to take the lingerie in.  "You may be leaving tonight, but I will not have you scandalize this family further -- "

"All right, Mother," Lara said sharply, looking at him through narrowed eyes.  Vlad paused, his arm half-way out the window.  He'd miss her so much when she was gone.  He leaned back in and hugged her tightly to him, resting his large face on her auburn hair.

"I love you, Lara.  I'm going to miss you."  He felt tears choke up in his throat.  Lara closed her eyes as she hugged him back, a cold drop of salty water falling down her pale cheek.  Sophie turned away and pulled out her handkerchief to dab at her eyes, trying to keep her kohl from running.  After a few moments she turned back around.

 "Lara, I think I may have a proposition for you that could help you and Mikhail."  She went on to describe her eager plans...she was invited to stay the night that night at a huge dinner party Natasha had planned, so all connections of her whereabouts for the night were unexpected.

"So, I can accompany you two tonight, AND stand in for Vlad at the wedding."

Lara shouted happily.  "You could?"

"Yes!"

Lara clapped her hands together.  "Oh, this is wonderful!  Thank you so much!"  She hugged Sophie tightly, then suddenly gasped.  "I must get a note to Mikhail..."

"I'll take it," Vlad volunteered.  Lara smiled gently at him and kissed his cheek.

"You're a dear, Vladimir."

She hastily scratched out a note and gave it to Vlad, who quickly set off from the house.  He ran to the stables and looked for Dominik, his usual horse.  He had to hurry and Dominik wasn't even saddled up yet!  He saw Chaka ready to be taken out for his exercises. In a flurry of frantic energy, he jumped on Chaka's back and set off quickly, much to Yakov's protests.  As he neared the disastrous wooden fence to Sophie's estate he closed his eyes tightly only to feel...a swift gush of air blow him in the face.  They had made the jump!  He smiled happily to himself and rode down the main road until he reached the other side of the river.

He rode Chaka until the house came into view across the way.  He tied him to a tree and moved cautiously along until he reached where he thought Mikhail had been.  But where was he in this massive site of pines and darkness?

A movement came from ahead.  He bent the best that he could with his large body and ducked under the trees.  Scooting closely to the ground, he made out Mikhail's figure.

"Mikhail," he whispered.  "Mikhail."  He'd only met Mikhail twice, the first time the day that Lara had also met him and the second by surprise when he caught them alone together in the tool shed at the back of the estate.  He didn't particularly LIKE Mikhail, but it was too late now.

Mikhail turned around and leaned against a tree, his wide brown eyes searching the forest frantically around him.  Vlad came up behind him and grabbed him around the waist.  Mikhail started to scream but Vlad placed a large hand over his mouth.

"Be quiet.  It's Vladimir.  I'll let you go if you promise to stay silent.  Promise?"

Mikhail nodded and Vlad let him go.  Mikhail turned around, his eyes large at the thought of how easily Vlad could crush him between his muscular arms.

"Vladimir!  What is it?  Is Lara alright?"

"She's fine.  Here, take this.  It's from her."  He thrust the letter into Mikhail's hands.  Mikhail opened it and scanned it quickly, then smiled.

"Someone will be able to stand in for your family at the wedding?"

"Yes.  And listen to me Mikhail, if you do one thing, just ONE thing to get either Sophie or Lara in trouble tonight, I will personally see that you don't go around sweeping anymore young girls off their feet, mainly because you won't HAVE your feet when I get through with you.  Do you understand me?"

Mikhail meet Vlad's brown eyes with his own.  "Look, Vladimir, whatever you think about...this in general," he said carefully ingnoring the word 'Jews' "...is wrong.  I WILL take care of Lara.  I promise.  I'm not just 'sweeping her off her feet'.  I love her.  Truly, deeply, LOVE her."

"And how many girls have heard that?" Vlad wanted to retort, but couldn't.  His love for his sister was too deep.  He'd never meet anyone like her again, he knew.  No one with that same fiery spirit, that independent will, no one who understood life, who was worldly yet just naive enough to be endearing.  His heart broke inside of him and he closed his eyes.  What to say?  Nothing.

He turned and left, leaving Mikhail to watch the retreating young aristocrat evaporate into the dark shadows of the trees.
~*~
It was night now.  Everyone in the house was asleep, except for Vlad.  Of course he wasn't asleep, he hadn't slept for the 7 days that Lara had been gone.  What little sleep he did get was restless and full of nightmares.  He sat up in bed and propped his back up against the massive pillows.  He rested his head in his hand and thought back to this night a week before.

Sophie had been over for the dinner party.  She had been invited quite a bit lately to dinner by Mother, who Vlad knew was only trying to improve her and her children's places in society.  He laughed ironically to himself. If Mother had ever guessed how Sophie would help Lara that night...

There were other guests as well.  Lord Kazankov, Baroness Kharalamm, and a few other local royals.  People who were just high enough in society to be admired, yet not quite able to slink into the inner circle of the highest royalty in all of Russia, the Romanovs.  Sophie was the only one there directly related to them, and much fuss was made over her.  She thrived on being the center of attention and sparkled, telling tales of Paris, walking with stardust trailing behind her, flirting with the world.  Vlad couldn't take her eyes off her.  She was the one bright spark in his life that night.

Lara was reclusive, a difference from her usual outgoing self.  Mother assumed it was part of her recent tantrums.  Only Vlad and Sophie really knew why.

At 10:00 dinner was finished and the men were all taking a drink in the main room as the women talked softly in the drawing room.  Vlad absently let his glass get filled with brandy and drank.  Father noticed.

"What's wrong, my son?"

Vlad snapped to attention.  "Nothing, Father."

His father smiled knowingly.  "Ahh, it's that delightful Sophie girl, isn't it?  A real charmer she is.  Beware, Son!  Women can charm anything but hurt them just as fast!"

The men in the room nodded their agreement and chorused in with various stories of lost loves and lusty flings.  Vlad rolled his eyes.  Was he the only one who felt that love was something sacred, something that was hard to find, but once found was the loveliest feeling in the world?

"You're getting up there in age, Vladimir.  25...you know, your mother and I married when she was 18 and I was 25.  Don't you think it's time  --"

"No," Vlad said sharply.

The topic was dropped.  Slowly everyone either left for their near-by estates or settled into guest rooms at the Vasilovich house.  Vlad thought it was a horrible night to elope.  Who knew when the semi-drunk guests would snap out of their stupor and notice Lara leave?

At 1:30 he heard the knock he had been waiting for at his door.  He opened it to let both Lara and Sophie in.  Lara laid her party clothes on his bed.  Sophie ducked into Vlad's bathroom to change into some borrowed clothes.

Lara was ready to leave.  She paced by Vlad's terrace window, the full moon reflecting eerie shadows on her figure.  He had sat in a chair, not talking, simply taking comfort in the last sight he knew he'd ever see of his sister again.  And she didn't even look like herself!  She was dressed in a pair of Vlad's pants (much too large) and a long, oversized shirt tucked in.  Her long auburn curls were placed under one of his European racing caps, every so often a loose one escaping and framing her fair face.

"I can't believe you insist on wearing trousers to your own wedding!" Vlad announced suddenly.  Lara blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"Well," he said, standing up, "look at you!  You look like a boy! Wearing those pants and that shirt and that cap!"

She laughed lightly.  "You'd like to see me climb down that ladder in skirts, wouldn't you?  Not that it'd bother me.  But if I look like a man running to the parked carriage, no one can recognize me."

"Or me," Sophie said stepping out of the bathroom.  She was wearing some of Vlad's clothes herself and her blond hair was tucked into her hat.  She turned around flirtingly.  "How do I look?"

Vlad laughed for the first time that night.  "Like a Parisian fashion plate!"

"Merci," she giggled.  She opened her mouth to say something else but there was a tap at the window.  Lara opened it excitedly and embraced a dark figure.  It was Mikhail.  Vlad stiffened, the light-heartedness of a few moments before dissipating into nothing.  Mikhail met Vlad's eyes hopefully. Vlad turned away.

After a few words, Sophie went on down the ladder.  She landed on the ground gracefully and looked up at the window.  "Which way to the carriage?"

Mikhail pointed to just beyond the Vasilovich property.  "Right outside of it.  The driver knows you're coming."  She thanked him, waved good-bye to Vlad, and ran off into the night.  Mikhail turned to Vlad and held out his hand.  Vlad shook it.

"I am thankful for what you've done.  I'll never forget it, ever."

Vlad nodded, not bearing to talk anymore to the man who was taking his sister away.  "You're welcome.  Go ahead, before someone hears us."

Mikhail nodded, squeezed Lara's hand, and told her that he'd wait for her at the bottom of the ladder.  Lara turned to Vlad.

Vlad didn't know how to say good-bye.  Words were useless and stupid. They didn't say anything of importance most of the time anyway, and said so little, so little that Vlad was able to express.  He didn't know what to say.

"Oh, Lara," he whispered as he hugged her tightly to him, praying he'd utter the right sounds.  "I wish I could be there.  I truly do."

Lara laughed and looked at him.  "You will be, in my heart."

Lara knew what to say.  She knew how to soothe his fears, his sadness, the horrible cramp that had grown in his stomach.  Her words were few, but they told all they needed too.

"I'll write to you, Vlad."

"Please promise me you'll be happy," Vlad choked.  Lara gently cupped his face her hands.

"I will be."

Once again, she was saying what Vlad needed to hear.  All her words were simple yet so strong...It all clicked in his mind.  She WAS happy.  She was going to be happier than she'd ever been in her short life of 19 years.  Vlad realized that even though he preached true love, of holding onto it and not letting it escape, he had never seen that that was exactly what Lara was doing.  She wasn't naive.  She wasn't being swept off her feet.  She was really, truly, in love.  And she wasn't going to let it escape.

"Vlad," she said quietly, seeing in his eyes that he had finally understood.  "Sophie...Sophie is a nice girl.  Don't let her escape, Vlad, don't let her."

Vlad smiled and felt tears come to his eyes.  "I won't, Lara.  I promise you now, I won't."

Lara smiled back, and with a final hug, she murmured her good-bye.  She walked out the window and down the ladder, then landed on the ground.  She and Mikhail joined hands and they ran off in the cover of night to the awaiting carriage.  As they turned around when they reached it they waved.  Vlad leaned out the window and waved back.  They got inside, then were gone.

The most horrific moment of Vlad's life occurred then as he turned around and saw Lara's party clothes laying on his bed.  He choked up.  He picked the dress up slowly and hugged it to him.  Ever since he could remember, Lara had been there...he remembered being 6 when she was born.  A tiny little baby with a wide smile and big blue eyes.  He remembered playing tag with her...he remembered writing stories with her...he remembered when they had seen their new baby brother Kosma in his cradle for the first time...he remembered when they had see Kosma in his casket for the last time.  He had lost both his siblings in one year.  He sat down on his bed in grief, staining her pink taffeta dress with his salty tears.

No.  He wouldn't let himself grieve.  He would be happy for Lara.  And he vowed there, that night, that he wouldn't ever let anyone else that he knew, including himself, lose their true love.  Never, not as long as he was around and able to move, walk, and talk.

His mind stayed with them that night.  They were just reaching the chapel by now.  They had entered.  The priest was saying the words of marriage.  Sophie was brimming with laughter when the married couple kissed, thanks heavens for the dear girl.  She had taken control of this and had spared Vlad more pain that would have occurred if he'd gone through it all alone.  Lara and Mikhail were now entering a new, already arranged for carriage, on their way to St. Petersburg.  Sophie entered the old one and came back.

She climbed back up Vlad's window and was surprised to see him sitting in a daze on his bed.

"Vladdy?  Are you ok?" she asked sitting beside him as she took her hat off.  He still had the clothes in his large hands.

"Oh, yes, of course," he said, smiling faintly.  "How did it go?"

Sophie smiled.  "Wonderful!"  She told him of the happy times they had that night, of the wedding, how Lara had beamed with happiness. Vlad could envision it all in his mind and he smiled.

And now it was a week later and he couldn't sleep.  He sighed.  He needed to get out of Vointsky, he needed to leave.  The memories of all he had lost were just too great.  But how?  Where?  He looked around the room, his eyes scanning the white walls for some sort of idea, some relief.  A sword caught his eye, a sword that had belonged to his grandfather, who had been in the St. Petersburg Section of the Russian Army.  A sword that was hanging on his wall, a sword that gave him an idea.

St. Petersburg.  The Russian Army.  The Russian Army in St. Petersburg!  He'd join the army!  Why not, he reasoned to himself.  Father will live a bit longer, he didn't have to run Vointsky just yet.  He could survive without this estate.  He could live without Mother's cries of grief everytime she looked at him, knowing yet never asking if he had a part in Lara's elopement.  He smiled to himself.  Yes, he'd join the army, the perfect plan.  Kosma had gone on to heaven, Lara had gone onto her earthly equivalent, and he would find his.  He would escape from the darkness that threatened to engulf him and find HIS heaven.

He slept peacefully for the first time in a week.

© 1999 AnyaMuse@aol.com
© 1999 AnyaCI@aol.com