"Q.E.D." Part 2
When she saw the Cassadine insignia, she nearly threw the envelopeaway, unopened. Then, curiosity got the better of her. Unfolding thenote, she was surprised to see the careful, measured letters ofsomeone else's handwriting... definitely not Helena's.
The words were meticulously chosen. Stiff. Formal. Almost Victorian.She smiled. Helena was never this polite, and Mikkos and his brotherswere devoid of such decorum. She wondered where Stefan Cassadine gothis manners.
She thought back to her final "visit" to the Cassadine compound manyyears ago. Had Stefan been there? The whole experience had been soutterly unpleasant, that she had buried the memory deep. Yes, he wasthere. He couldn't have been more than four years old, but already heknew his place in the family. He sat quietly in the background,watching as Helena and Mikkos "presented" her to Stavros. They didnot bother introducing their other son. Stefan remained appropriately"invisible" throughout the evening, never uttering a word.
And now, here she was, once again traveling by water to meet with aCassadine. Had it not been for the cold, Port Charles winter, thefeeling of deja vu would have overwhelmed her.
"What could he possibly want?" she muttered.
"Excuse me? Ma'am? Is there anything you need?"
His voice startled her, and she realized she had spoken her lastthought aloud. "Oh, it's nothing."
She looked up and saw him frowning at her. "Is there somethingbothering you, Reginald?"
Reginald sighed. "I'm not sure that I like the idea of you goingthere," he said, nodding in the direction of Spoon Island.
Lila laughed. "Why on earth not? Alan fared well enough."
Reginald shivered a bit and squinted into the fog. "It looks so...foreboding. I've heard so much about the Cassadines. I'd rather younot have anything to do with them."
Lila smiled and patted Reginald's arm. "Believe me, Reginald. I knowhow to deal with the Cassadines. They cannot hurt me."
Reginald smiled briefly. "I just wish you had told Mr. Quartermainewhere you were going."
"I don't like keeping secrets from Edward, you know. I never did."She watched the dark waters of the Port Charles River swirl behindthem in a series of miniature eddies. "But I made a promise manyyears ago, long before I met Edward, and I cannot go back on myword."
Reginald nodded. He, too, had made a promise years ago, before takinghis uncle's place as Lila's protector; a promise much older than he,a promise made by his great-grandfather to King George V in England,back in 1918...
"Do you think he knows, Lila?"
Lila was both mildly startled and pleased by Reginald'suncharacteristic use of her first name. She wished that he would callher that more often. His family had become so intertwined with hers,that she felt no need for formalities.
"I don't know, Reginald. If Stefan's learned something, it hasn'tbeen from Helena. She never had any intention of telling him. He wasmerely an accessory in that household, more of a bother to her than ason." She looked up at Windemere's dock, growing larger as theyneared. "But he must know something, or he'd have no reason tocontact me." She took out Stefan's note and ran her fingers over theCassadine crest. "This is no ordinary invitation to tea..."
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He smiled as he lay stretched out on the sofa, reading the Sundaypaper. "I am becoming more like an American every day," thoughtStefan.
He liked reading English. He remembered the long hours spent with hisEnglish tutor, learning the syntax and spelling, perfecting hisaccent. Now, in Port Charles, he was surrounded by it, and he feltcomfortable.
Although Greek was his first language and he wouldn't dream ofreading Homer in any other, he still felt drawn to English. It was,after all, the language of a very important ancestor of his. Anancestor whose family name, if it was ever spoken aloud, wouldcompletely eclipse his given family name, Cassadine.
He glanced over at the paneling adjacent to the fireplace mantle.Behind the paneling was a safe containing a diary. Neither Nikolasnor the servants knew what secrets the diary contained. But Helenadid.
He smiled. Helena was of no consequence in this matter. Who would shetell when she discovered his crime? In her eyes, only "The Cassadine"could be entrusted with this information, and Nikolas was not yet "ofage". Her obsession with secrecy would be her undoing.
'The Cassadine'. Although he used the proper reverent tone when hewould say the words, he knew what the title really meant. TheCassadine family tree was littered with thieves and liars. Behindthat wall was proof of the Cassadines' greatest theft and biggestlie. Behind that wall was also the key to his family'sredemption.
Timoria... atonement.. for sins of the past and the present. That wasthe legacy that Stefan hoped to pass on to Nikolas.
He noted the time and sat up on the couch, carefully folding thepaper and putting it away. His guests would be here soon. He phonedtwo of his servants and instructed them to meet his guests on thedock.
Then, he climbed the stairs to Nikolas' room to fetch his nephew. Itwas time "The Cassadine" knew his real title.