"Q.E.D." Part 26
"Well, your missing guard finally reported in," said Pierce. "Hewashed up
on the northwest beach ten minutes ago. He had a bullet in hisforehead. We
must have company, somewhere."
Helena seemed almost bored by the news. "Yes, of course we have'company'.
My son and Luke Spencer left Port Charles two days ago. I assumethat
they're not on vacation."
"This doesn't concern you?"
"Not yet. You see, Luke Spencer and I are old friends, although, Idon't
think that he would choose the same term to describe ourrelationship.
Nevertheless, I have come to know him quite well over the years.He is a
delightful creature, a rare breed of man that has, unfortunately,almost
vanished entirely. He requires no validation from others: nosmiles of
appreciation, no nods of approval, no thunderous applause. He ismotivated
from within, and he is driven by his instincts. What I find mostendearing,
and most useful about him, is his --- how shall I say it? ---chivalrous
attitude toward women." She laughed at Pierce's stunnedexpression. "You
don't agree with my assessment?" she asked. "Ah, perhaps you thinkthat the
definition of chivalry includes genteel speech and impeccablemanners, two
traits which are refreshingly absent from Luke Spencer's personalrepertoire.
No, what I am referring to is Luke's blind devotion to his 'lady',Laura
Spencer."
Helena shifted her gaze to the blank wall above the fireplacemantle, where
Laura's portrait used to hang, several years ago. "Although I amhis most
formidable foe, Luke will not accept that fact outright, because Iam a woman
and I have no love for his wife. He will see Stefan as the greaterthreat,
just as he did Stavros all those years ago. He will not see fit tochallenge
me, until he has eliminated my son. Laura Spencer will prove to bethe
downfall of both men."
She shook her head sadly. "Such a waste, really. Who would haveever
thought that such a worthless creature would be playing the roleof Helen of
Troy? Luke Spencer deserves far better than Laura."
"And who would be an acceptable mate for him, in your eyes...you?"
"Jealousy Pierce? It doesn't become you." She smiled at thefrivolous
beauty of a nearby vase of flowers, and then turned the same smileonto him.
"And I'd hate to see such an ugly emotion despoil such a lovelyface."
"Is that all that I am to you?"
"Oh now, Pierce, don't look at me that way. I am paying you acompliment.
Why is it that a woman will burst with pride when a man calls herbeautiful,
but a man will recoil as if slapped in the face when a womanreturns the
sentiment? Does it demean your status as a human being that I findpleasure
in your physical attributes? Does it erode your ego that I deemyou worthy
of the finest artist's canvas? You are my chosen consort, Pierce,does that
undermine your self-esteem?"
God, how he despised her at this moment. It was not supposed to bethis way.
She was supposed to be the one left with the shattered self-image.She was
supposed to be the one grateful for any crumbs of attentivenessthat he
deemed fit to throw her way. She was supposed to be the onebegging him,
pleading with him: Please don't leave me now, I am nothing withoutyou. And
he... he was supposed to be the one feeding off of her despair,taking for
himself the last of her strength.
But he would have it yet. He now had the means of takingeverything from her
in one, fatal stroke. He wished that Luke Spencer could be thereto witness
her destruction, but Pierce would leave it to him to actually endher life.
At least her precious grandson Nikolas would be available to playthe role
of the stunned chorus in this tragedy.
"Are you planning on visiting Nikolas, soon?" he asked, as iftheir previous
conversation had not taken place.
"Yes."
"May I accompany you?"
"Of course."
----------------------
The pain in Stefan's leg was once again a sharp, defined point,centered
around the area where the bullet had been embedded. Though Stefanhad been
dubious of Luke's surgical finesse, he had to admit that he feltbetter as a
result of his handiwork. When his temperature finally dropped towithin a
couple degrees of normal, Stefan was able to rationally assess hissituation,
and he found himself waxing nostalgic for his fever-induceddementia. At
least his prior state of altered reality would have cushioned thestab of
realization that he had just exposed his greatest weakness to hisrival. The
only satisfaction that he gleaned from his addled confession wasthat it
appeared to have hit Luke with an ugly resonance. And he filedaway Luke's
reaction as a post-script, to be accessed later if the needarose.
"So ... you're the king now, aren't you?"
They had been walking in silence for the last few hours, so thesound of
Luke's voice seemed like an assault.
"I suppose one could interpret my position in that way."
"Hell, there's no room for interpretation! Poor old Alexie diedshortly
after Mikkos was born, so I guess that means that your uncles werespawned fro
m some other weed in the Cassadine cabbage patch. Now that Nikky'sout of
the running, that leaves only you."
"Spencer, do you have a point here, or must I sift through yoursophomoric
banter to find it?"
"My point is: I would like to know who benefited the most fromMikkos' and
Stavros' death... Helena or you."
"Do you honestly think that I aspire to rule Russia?"
"You're a Cassadine. 'Megalomania' is your middle name."
"Actually, I am a Romanov."
"You're proving my point, man."
"It proves nothing! I am simply stating a fact. No one knowsbetter than I
how it feels to be reduced to a subservient status because ofone's birth
order or the identity of one's parents. It is an outdated conceptto assume
that one man's ability to rule over another is determined solelyby
birthright. The Russian people have the right to decide how theywill be
governed and by whom. Despite my patrician bearing, Spencer, I amnot a
royalist."
And to Stefan's surprise, Luke threw his head back and started tolaugh.
"Patrician bearing? My ass! You should see yourself rightnow!"
"Have you anything constructive to say? If not, I'd suggest thatyou save
whatever precious few witticisms remain in that vacuous orb youcall a brain
for someone who appreciates your brand of humor."
"You mean someone like Laura, perhaps?"
"I am finished talking to you."
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