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I threw up my hands. Here we go again. Everyone says, Decide, Dulcie, live
or die, but no know canadvise me.
He held up his hand. I didn t sayno one could advise you; I said I cannot.
You have questions. Ask Justine.
Justine? Why?
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He turned his back to me, pouring another brandy. Trust me. She can help you
as no one else can.
When he didn t turn back around I got the distinct impression his lordship
had just dismissed me.
Chapter Sixteen
I was on my way up to the Dowager s room to see Justine when I heard the high
coloratura trills ofThe Magic Flute s Der Hölle Rache coming from my dining
room. Her voice was incredible; each note coming so effortlessly, so clearly,
and her pitch was perfection. Quietly peering inside I saw her, clad in her
breeches and boots and another of my father s shirts, gracefully moving down
the length of the dining room, slashing at the air with one of my father s
fencing foils. Each move, each thrust of the sword, seemed choreographed to
the aria she sung. The massive table had been moved against one wall to give
her room to maneuver. I didn t know how she d done it; I d seen six strong
footmen struggle to move that table. She stopped in mid-thrust and turned to
walk back to the far end of the room.
Come or go, she called, but do not hover in the doorway.
I flushed as if I were a child who d been caught spying and slipped into the
room, closing the door behind me.
I would have thought you would prefer the role of Pamina, I said.
Justine smile, Pamina may be the lead but The Queen of the Night is much
more difficult to sing.Herr Mozart wrote it for me when I told him that I
hadn t been given anything truly challenging in a hundred years.
Have you ever performed it?
Not publicly, she said, and then effectively changed the subject. So tell
me, do you fence?
I know the rudiments, I said. Sebastian and I had played at being knights
when we were children and my father had thought it a lark one summer to teach
me a few of the basics.
Justine hooked her toe under a second foil lying on the floor and flipped it
into the air. Catching it deftly in one hand she threw it to me.
I took off my jacket and folded it neatly across the back of one of the
chairs. Gathering up my skirt in one hand and the foil in my other, I faced
her. She tipped her sword to me and began.
She was toying with me, I knew. I was less than a novice and she d had
centuries of practice. She could have disarmed me in a stroke but she didn t.
When she d gently backed me against the far wall she stepped back and said,
Again.
Walking back to the end of the room she winced a bit and put a hand to her
chest.
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You re still injured, I said. You should be resting.
We are women, she said, engaging me again, her voice rising to be heard
over the clashing of steel. Even with the strength of the vampire the men are
still bigger and stronger.
The sharp staccato of metal against metal echoed in the room as we moved in a
deadly ballet across the polished wood floor. She hooked my sword and drew up,
pinning it to my body with the press of her own. They have an advantage over
us in brute strength so we must be quicker and smarter and better. Again.
As we circled each other, lunging and parrying, I asked, What does it feel
like? To be a vampire?
I can see as well as the hawk, can hear like the wolf. I can run fast as a
deer for miles without tiring. To be a vampire is to know strength and power&
and great sadness. She stopped in the middle of the room. But that is not
what you came to ask me.
It s not?
You want to know how you could possibly make such a decision. You want to
know if your soul will be damned for all eternity. You want to know what will
become of you if you give up your life.
My eyes widened. She was right. Those were the questions, even if I hadn t
yet formed them in my own mind. Those were the things that had been swimming
in my head as I was out riding. How did you know? I asked.
She laughed, sliding up to sit on the edge of the dining table, her long legs
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