Royal blood. Linked destinies Irina Kotova
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Title: Royal Blood. Linked destinies
About the book “Royal Blood. Connected destinies" Irina Kotova
They live in different parts of the world. The Lord of the Sands of Noria is trying to bring back to life his lands, which became a desert five hundred years ago. Princess Angelina wants to return home after escaping from the dragons who kidnapped her. Luke Cambritch conducts an intense investigation, wanting to find those who are methodically killing relatives of the ruling family in Inland. Queen Vasilina is busy with state affairs, Princess Polina is preparing for her wedding, and Princess Marina is working in a hospital and trying to cope with her feelings for someone else’s fiancé...
It would seem like such different destinies. But they are all connected, all intertwined into a bizarre pattern. A thin web of connected destinies entangles the whole world. And no one knows that each of them has a dark time ahead... Which is just beginning.
The fourth book in the Royal Blood series.
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They live in different parts of the world. The Lord of the Sands of Noria is trying to bring back to life his lands, which became a desert five hundred years ago. Princess Angelina wants to return home after escaping from the dragons who kidnapped her. Luke Cambritch conducts an intense investigation, wanting to find those who are methodically killing relatives of the ruling family in Inland. Queen Vasilina is busy with state affairs, Princess Polina is preparing for her wedding, and Princess Marina is working in a hospital and trying to cope with her feelings for someone else’s fiancé... It would seem that these are such different destinies. But they are all connected, all intertwined into a bizarre pattern. A thin web of connected destinies entangles the whole world. And no one knows that each of them has a dark time ahead... Which is just beginning. The fourth book in the Royal Blood series.
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Today, a large amount of electronic literature is available on the Internet. Edition Royal Blood. Linked Fates is dated 2017, belongs to the Fantasy genre in the “Other Worlds” series and is published by AST, Mainstream. Perhaps the book has not yet entered the Russian market or has not appeared in electronic format. Don’t be upset: just wait, and it will definitely appear on UnitLib in fb2 format, but in the meantime you can download and read other books online. Read and enjoy educational literature with us. Free downloading in formats (fb2, epub, txt, pdf) allows you to download books directly into an e-reader. Remember, if you really liked the novel, save it to your wall on a social network, let your friends see it too!
If he offends you, tell me, mom,” Luke asked.
Oh, never mind,” Lady Charlotte waved her fan and admired herself sideways in the mirror. - Your father is not so bad - especially now that I don’t depend on him. He's even very nice.
Are you continuing... the relationship? - His lordship was amazed.
The Countess looked at her son reproachfully.
Darling, even if that’s the case, what’s stopping me?
“I thought you were unhappy with him,” Cambritch said gloomily.
Yes,” Lady Charlotte answered easily, “but somehow we made two more children.” He's a good lover, Luke, and I'm too old to look for anything new.
That’s it,” Cambritch asked with comic horror, “I don’t even want to hear about it.” Take care of my confidence that you are a saint, Mom.
How I envy you,” she sincerely said to Svetlana, when she was already standing again, turning away, and everything that could be touched and measured had already been measured. - You can fly on it.
When you grow up, come to us in the Sands, little one,” shouted Chet, who was getting dressed, miraculously hearing her, “we’ll find you a suitable dragon, and you’ll swoop in and be measured in all guises.”
Katyusha, my dear,” Marina suddenly said very seriously. - Listen to me, just don’t close yourself off, but try to accept it. When I worked in the ambulance, we were often called to domestic service. There, husbands beat their wives... - Katya clenched her teeth... - until she bled bloody snot. And here's what's surprising. Most of them refused to write a statement. And they kept saying: it’s my own fault. I provoked him - and he, poor thing, was tired, angry, hungry, sick, had problems at work, didn’t add enough salt to the soup, didn’t bring his slippers on time... Victims of violence have some common property - they live in a closed world in which everything depends on upside down and in which they begin to believe that you can be to blame for having your nose broken or your eye blackened. A normal man, even in delirium, would not raise his hand against a woman! So it's not your fault. Not with anything!!!
Irina Kotova
Royal blood. Linked destinies
Part one
Early November, the capital of Inland, Lawnwhite
Royal Asylum
Luke Cambritch
The fire alarm squealed loudly, and the clatter of many feet was heard in the corridor. The staff rushed back and forth, checking the wards.
Luke grinned and blew tobacco smoke out the slightly open window. There is still time until they get there. Who can think of a patient who was placed in the best ward of the hospital by order of His Majesty Lucius? And to which - an unprecedented thing! – did the king come personally, conducting vitalistic sessions? Therefore, it is not surprising that the lord with a terrible scar on his stomach was quite cheerful and demanding by the end of the week. And he almost threw plates of oatmeal and vegetable broths at the nurses, accompanying each meal with sarcastic comments. This continued until an experienced and well-spoken nurse, Magda Ronfried, was assigned to him - she calmly endured his outbursts of irritation and easily entered into ironic sparring. At fifty, Magda has seen worse patients; besides, the poor lord was right - the menu he was offered was disgusting.
In the morning, Luke was visited by his younger brother, Bernard, who, at the age of twenty, suddenly grew taller, acquired broad shoulders, a deep bass voice and grew a beard. Either military school really turns squeaky and nervous young men into men, or the Cambritch genes have begun to tell. In any case, now Bernie looked much more like his father than Luke himself. But all the younger Cambritchs got their black hair from their mother.
The conversation turned out to be dry and awkward, until the bored Viscount, as if by chance, asked his brother what he did for fun while on furlough. Drinking? Women? Horse racing? Or does he continue to be a good boy, secretly smoking in the attic of the estate?
The brother easily fell for the provocation - he became indignant, perked up, and then they chatted like old friends. And in the end, little Bernie became generous and left him a half-empty pack of cigarettes and a lighter. And some cash, apologizing for not thinking and taking more bills with me.
“After all, having relatives is sometimes useful and even pleasant,” Luke thought, caressing with his gaze the red pack invitingly glittering with crumpled cellophane packaging, while his brother said goodbye and left. Dear, sweet Bernie!
He took his time, walked around the pack like a trained dachshund near a rabbit hole, rolled a thin cigarette, smelling sharply and sweetly of tobacco, sniffed it, finally leaned against the wall, opened the window and lit a cigarette. And he almost groaned from pleasure and the pleasant weakness that instantly hit his head and legs.
The alarm located on the ceiling was blinking red desperately, and the stomping was getting closer. A flushed Magda looked into the room, looked reproachfully at the patient—Luke made an expression of incomprehension—and shouted loudly into the corridor:
– I checked everything, false alarm! Cut out this howl quickly!
The alarm beeped a couple more times and then went silent. The ringing silence that followed seemed blissful.
“How noisy it is here,” the Viscount said in a secular tone, taking a puff. - No peace for the poor patients.
“You are a scoundrel, lord,” the nurse said sternly, approaching. - Give me this nasty thing!
“I won’t give it back,” Luke said capriciously, hastily taking another drag. - Magda, let's bargain. I give you my title and estate, and you leave me these seven cigarettes.
The nurse shook her head mockingly.
“Gods forbid, I’m still sane.” Look how thin and nervous you are. Can you live your life in peace with these titles? It's impossible to look at you! So, let’s ventilate everything here thoroughly,” and she, without making any more attempts to take the cigarette from the relaxed intruder, opened the second window. It immediately became chilly - a thick Lawnwhite fog slowly floated into the room.
“You noticed too,” said Cambritch sadly. - And I noticed. This morning I looked in the mirror and got scared.
- What? – the woman responded habitually, deftly making the bed.
“Unusually healthy complexion,” Luke shared, lowering his voice. - Those sparkling eyes, that blush. Really impossible to watch! I'm used to gray skin and bags under my eyes. You see,” he waved his cigarette, “I’m regaining my decent appearance.” You drove me crazy with your porridge. And when will I be discharged?
“Alas,” Magda took a mop, rattled something in the bathroom, came out with a wet rag and began to wipe the floors. – The entire administrative staff of the hospital is trembling over you. Therefore, until it becomes obvious that you will not collapse with internal bleeding as soon as you leave the threshold, you will not be discharged.
“Magda,” Luke said soulfully, “help me escape.” I'll kiss you.
“You’re an inventor, Viscount,” the nurse said menacingly.
Irina Kotova
Royal blood. Linked destinies
Part one
Early November, the capital of Inland, Lawnwhite
Royal Asylum
Luke Cambritch
The fire alarm squealed loudly, and the clatter of many feet was heard in the corridor. The staff rushed back and forth, checking the wards.
Luke grinned and blew tobacco smoke out the slightly open window. There is still time until they get there. Who can think of a patient who was placed in the best ward of the hospital by order of His Majesty Lucius? And to which - an unprecedented thing! – did the king come personally, conducting vitalistic sessions? Therefore, it is not surprising that the lord with a terrible scar on his stomach was quite cheerful and demanding by the end of the week. And he almost threw plates of oatmeal and vegetable broths at the nurses, accompanying each meal with sarcastic comments. This continued until an experienced and well-spoken nurse, Magda Ronfried, was assigned to him - she calmly endured his outbursts of irritation and easily entered into ironic sparring. At fifty, Magda has seen worse patients; besides, the poor lord was right - the menu he was offered was disgusting.
In the morning, Luke was visited by his younger brother, Bernard, who, at the age of twenty, suddenly grew taller, acquired broad shoulders, a deep bass voice and grew a beard. Either military school really turns squeaky and nervous young men into men, or the Cambritch genes have begun to tell. In any case, now Bernie looked much more like his father than Luke himself. But all the younger Cambritchs got their black hair from their mother.
The conversation turned out to be dry and awkward, until the bored Viscount, as if by chance, asked his brother what he did for fun while on furlough. Drinking? Women? Horse racing? Or does he continue to be a good boy, secretly smoking in the attic of the estate?
The brother easily fell for the provocation - he became indignant, perked up, and then they chatted like old friends. And in the end, little Bernie became generous and left him a half-empty pack of cigarettes and a lighter. And some cash, apologizing for not thinking and taking more bills with me.
“After all, having relatives is sometimes useful and even pleasant,” Luke thought, caressing with his gaze the red pack invitingly glittering with crumpled cellophane packaging, while his brother said goodbye and left. Dear, sweet Bernie!
He took his time, walked around the pack like a trained dachshund near a rabbit hole, rolled a thin cigarette, smelling sharply and sweetly of tobacco, sniffed it, finally leaned against the wall, opened the window and lit a cigarette. And he almost groaned from pleasure and the pleasant weakness that instantly hit his head and legs.
The alarm located on the ceiling was blinking red desperately, and the stomping was getting closer. A flushed Magda looked into the room, looked reproachfully at the patient—Luke made an expression of incomprehension—and shouted loudly into the corridor:
– I checked everything, false alarm! Cut out this howl quickly!
The alarm beeped a couple more times and then went silent. The ringing silence that followed seemed blissful.
“How noisy it is here,” the Viscount said in a secular tone, taking a puff. - No peace for the poor patients.
“You are a scoundrel, lord,” the nurse said sternly, approaching. - Give me this nasty thing!
“I won’t give it back,” Luke said capriciously, hastily taking another drag. - Magda, let's bargain. I give you my title and estate, and you leave me these seven cigarettes.
The nurse shook her head mockingly.
“Gods forbid, I’m still sane.” Look how thin and nervous you are. Can you live your life in peace with these titles? It's impossible to look at you! So, let’s ventilate everything here thoroughly,” and she, without making any more attempts to take the cigarette from the relaxed intruder, opened the second window. It immediately became chilly - a thick Lawnwhite fog slowly floated into the room.
“You noticed too,” said Cambritch sadly. - And I noticed. This morning I looked in the mirror and got scared.
- What? – the woman responded habitually, deftly making the bed.
“Unusually healthy complexion,” Luke shared, lowering his voice. - Those sparkling eyes, that blush. Really impossible to watch! I'm used to gray skin and bags under my eyes. You see,” he waved his cigarette, “I’m regaining my decent appearance.” You drove me crazy with your porridge. And when will I be discharged?
“Alas,” Magda took a mop, rattled something in the bathroom, came out with a wet rag and began to wipe the floors. – The entire administrative staff of the hospital is trembling over you. Therefore, until it becomes obvious that you will not collapse with internal bleeding as soon as you leave the threshold, you will not be discharged.
“Magda,” Luke said soulfully, “help me escape.” I'll kiss you.
“You’re an inventor, Viscount,” the nurse said menacingly.
“And I’ll get married,” Cambritch promised insistently. “As soon as I breathe a week of freedom, I’ll immediately walk you down the aisle.”
The nurse looked at him skeptically and bent down to clean under the bed.
- And what? – Luke continued. – You are a prominent, economical, stern woman. You can hold me with an iron hand. If you start feeding me porridge, I promise, I’ll be subdued like a baby. “I’ll give up smoking,” he added sarcastically, looked at the cigarette butt in his fingers and threw it out the window.
“So I’m married, lord,” the woman panted from behind the bed. - I won’t get a divorce, and don’t beg me. Made it up too.
“That’s bad luck,” said Cambritch, upset. – I shouldn’t lead a healthy lifestyle. I would be lost without you, Magda. So, you say, will you help me escape?
“Don’t talk to me about your teeth,” the nurse snapped, straightening up. “If you want to run away, I’ll never tell you that Niddens is on duty tonight, and he’s deaf and doesn’t go on duty without a bottle.” And don’t check the exit to the back staircase, it will definitely be closed. But if you die, I will come to your grave and call you a fool.
- Are you sure you won’t get divorced? – Luke asked flatteringly. – You are a unique woman! I've been loving you for three days now.
“If only I were ten years younger,” the woman waved her rag and looked appraisingly at the lean and tall figure of her interlocutor. - However, I wouldn’t have gotten divorced even then. Your eyes, lord, excuse me, of course, are like those of a lascivious cat. My pet spaniel is dearer to me. I certainly won’t guess which of the neighbor’s cats he was walking on the street with at night.
Luke smiled ruefully and the nurse wagged her finger at him.
After lunch and procedures - the ultrasound doctor only grunted with satisfaction, looking at the pictures of the abdominal cavity, while Luke, smeared with cold gel, lay patiently on the couch and looked at the ceiling - Rudlog's ambassador to India, Stepan Ivanovich Khoroshevsky, stopped by Cambritch. Stepan Ivanovich was round and bulldog-shaped and spoke weighty, slow phrases. He looked at the unexpected addition of another assistant to his staff with poorly concealed bewilderment. However, with him Luke was all meekness.
“I’m leaving for your award ceremony tomorrow,” Khoroshevsky said, sedately sitting down on a flimsy hospital chair. “You can write a speech of gratitude, Cambridge, and I’ll read it to the queen.”
“You are so kind,” Luke said politely, “you take such care of the employees.” But, Stepan Ivanovich, wouldn’t it be disrespectful to Her Majesty if I, having completely recovered from my wound, neglected her invitation?
The ambassador frowned as he considered the information.
“The local doctors are reinsurers,” Luke continued confidentially, “and in no case do I want to violate the regime, but I also don’t want to upset Her Majesty again.” You know about the incident at the embassy meeting, right? “He clasped his hands, as if worried, and Stepan Ivanovich nodded coldly. “I was out of my mind and I have no forgiveness, but the queen was so kind that she allowed me to ask her for an apology on my birthday.” I didn't have time, unfortunately.
-What are you getting at, Cambritch? – Khoroshevsky asked slowly, rolling out his words.
“I ask you to accompany me tomorrow,” said Luke, “and after the ceremony, I promise, I will return to the hospital.” I'll be gone for a few hours. But I can finally apologize and accept the award. What do you think, Stepan Ivanovich?
“Okay,” said the ambassador after much thought. “But you will owe me a favor, Viscount.” I'm leaving through the teleport tomorrow at five in the evening. Be at the embassy at this time.
“Thank you for your understanding,” Luke said fervently and tried to make his entire figure express boundless adoration and gratitude.
At about eleven in the evening a man knocked on the door of the Cambritch house in the capital. He was not dressed at all for the weather - a cold, sticky rain was drizzling outside, and the man impatiently stepped on his feet in too large wet slippers, straightening a strange raincoat, more like a hospital brown robe, from under which light pajama pants were visible.