Ви Корс

The Mist and the Lightning. Part VII


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>Chapter one

      A little earlier…

             “So you can be congratulated?” Vitor Kors sat at his desk and twisted a gold pen in his fingers.

      “Maybe it’s worth saying: “We can be congratulated”? – Ron Arwa hesitated, obviously not knowing what to say next, Vitor Kors seemed to congratulate him, but his face didn’t express any gratitude or joy.

      “Well, we won’t drink champagne,” Kors grinned, “but I can offer coffee or tea.”

      “Coffee if you can…”

      * * *

      “Won't you?” Ron Arwa was surprised when the servant brought only one cup on a tray.

      “No. Go on, drink, drink, calm down. I just rarely drink coffee,” Vitor Kors tried to calm the investigator, seeing his embarrassment:

       “I don’t really like it, and Karina says that I don’t understand anything about it.”

      “I don’t think so,” Ron Arwa shook his head and took a sip. “By the way, how is she doing? I haven't seen her for a long time.”

      “Everything is fine.”

      At the mention of his daughter, gloomy face of Vitor Kors lit up with some kind of inner light.

      “You really love her,” remarked Ron Arwa.

      “Her features… such lovely features, they remind me of…” Kors turned his gaze to the portrait on his desk, and with tenderness touched his fingers on the gilded frame. From the portrait, a fair-haired girl smiled at him serene.

      “How much time has passed, Vitor…”

      “It will be twenty-five years in the summer. Twenty-five years since I lost Iness,” Kors jerked his hand away, as if reluctantly returning himself to reality, again looked gloomily and tiredly at Wolf. He cringed under his heavy gaze, nearly choked on a sip of coffee. And playing it safe, he set the cup on the table.

      “Clive Gabriel came to me yesterday,” Vitor Kors leaned back in his chair and lit a cigarette, “he asked for Karina's hand.”

      “So… I can congratulate you?!”

      “No. Not this way. Let her decide, I will not intervene.”

      “And… do you think she will refuse him?”

      Kors shrugged.

      “I see, does this not upset you too much?” Ron Arwa remarked.

      “I was only upset if she chose Prince Arel or one of his people. That would really upset me. Everything else islittle things.”

      “Well, that’s unlikely,” Wolf thought for a second, remembering. “You should have seen his eyes…” he laughed briefly, apparently imagining Arel’s face again. “These are his painted eyes, and they have such a surprise in them: “What? No!” Ron tried to copy Arel’s expression and voice. “Damn, it was so funny!”

      “He was surprised? For six months they sent summons and orders to return Nikto, and he was surprised?!”

      “Yes! And no. You know… I think they were ready. I didn’t take the prince, remembering your order, although it was very easy to do so. They didn’t even resist.”

      “They resigned to the inevitability. It’s good. And yes, you did the right thing that you didn’t take him today. We can take him any day, any minute. Taking the prince for me is no problem,” Kors was silent for a moment, thinking, “I want to do it beautifully.”

      “You should send him a note… from Karina, for example,” Arwa suggested.

      “No,” Kors shook his head, “even this is not necessary. I don't want to interfere her into it anymore. He will come here to this office himself, if I order! He will fulfill all that I command! Do you doubt?”

      “No,” Ron Arwa looked down, “I have no doubt.”

      Chapter two

      Vitor Kors and Karina

      “Clive Gabriel told me Wolf had arrested Nikto today?”

      Vitor Kors grimaced.

      “Where are your manners?! Wolf! Don’t call him like that when you talk with me!”

      Karina shrugged.

      “Okay, I won’t, it's just that everyone calls him that…”

      “Did you want to talk about something? I don’t have much time…”

      “Well, dad!”

      “Yes. I'm listening to you.”

      But Karina suddenly rounded the table, went to her father, hugged him tightly, sitting on his knees, hiding his face on his chest.

      “I'm listening to you. I will accept whatever you say. And if you want it, it will be so. Therefore, don’t worry so much!”

      Karina looked up in surprise and pulled away:

      “What are you talking about?”

      “And you?”

      “I wanted to talk to you about Nikto…”

      “About whom?!”

      “And what did you think?”

      “About Clive Gabriel!”

      And seeing the slightly confused expression on her father’s face, Karina laughed:

      “Dad! You thought I would ask you… pooh… I don’t even have my tongue turning to say such nasty things!”

      “So you…”

      “I don’t need him, and that’s all! Don’t even dare to think about this!” And, seeing how frank relief was reading on her father’s face, Karina pressed herself against him again, straightened tenderly his white gray lock, beautifully removed from high forehead. That was the only grayish strand among thick dark hair.

      “How could you think!”

      “What should I have thought?! First he comes to me and asks for you. Then you come and want to talk seriously about something!”

      “He came to you ?! Oh! Damn! I don’t want to hear anything else about Clive! I came to talk on a completely different topic. Absolutely!”

      “There will be no indulgences and condescension for Nikto, keep this in mind, and you can even not start.”

      Karina pulled away from her father, got down from his knees and went around the table. She pursed her lips and sat in a chair opposite:

      “Because he is garbage, trash?”

      “Yes, if you want it to be put so.”

      “And he is half-breed.”

      “It has nothing to do with it,” Vitor was embarrassed.

      “I see,” said Karina knowingly, seeing his embarrassment. “So what do you intend to do with him?” Her voice fluttered. “You want to execute him, yes?”

      “Let's just say this,” Kors hesitated, as if picking up words softer, “let's just say that he has no place in our world. He is called the son of the devil, so let him go to his world, to his father. Let him return to his father. I'll get him home, that's all.”

      “Is this a joke? Do you think this is funny?”

      Kors shrugged.

      “Well, as I tell you, he really has to go back home, to his family, and to his father.”

      “But his father is you!”

      Kors grinned.

      “Karina, I don't have much time.”

      “Very well! That's when you see him, when you see… you yourself will understand everything! He looks like his mother, they are like two drops of water!” Karina took a portrait