“Victor, I doubt you’re truly an atheist, and if you are, it’s only because your father taught you to be.”
“And you are a Catholic because your mother taught you to be. And some nuns, too!”
“Nonsense,” she said. “I have considered it carefully, and find no other possible explanation for”-she waved her hand at the night sky, and the lake, and us-“all of this!”
“There is no proof of God,” I said, quoting Father.
“There is knowing, and there is believing,” said Elizabeth. “They are two different things. Knowing requires facts. Believing requires faith. If there were proof of God’s existence, it wouldn’t be a faith, would it.”
This puzzled me for a moment. “I simply don’t see the point,” I said. “Faith seems worthless to me, then. One might have faith in any fancy. Singing flowers or-”
“Worthless?” cried Elizabeth. “My faith has given me sustenance for many years!”
“Victor, enough,” said Konrad. “You’ll hurt her feelings.”
“Oh, Elizabeth can take care of herself,” I said. “She’s no delicate blossom.”
“Certainly not,” she retorted. “But in the future I will only argue with my intellectual equals.”
“I’m considering pushing you into the lake,” I said, beginning to stand.
“I’d like to see you try,” said Elizabeth, with a flare of the wildcat in her face.
“Please, please, don’t dare him,” said Henry, gripping the sides of the rocking boat in alarm. “Victor always does dares. Remember what happened last time?”
“We nearly capsized,” Konrad recalled, as a bit of water splashed over the side.
“Getting wet upsets me,” said Henry. “Victor, do sit down.”
I narrowed my eyes at Elizabeth; she narrowed hers back.
“I’ve read,” said Henry, “that if you stare long enough at the heavens, your future will become clear. Have you tried it, Victor?”
It was such an obvious ploy that I couldn’t help laughing. I slouched back comfortably against the cushions.
“And what is it you see for yourself, Henry?” I asked my diplomatic friend.
“Well,” he said, “the view is clear for me. I will become a merchant and in time take over my father’s business.”
Elizabeth pushed herself up on her elbows, indignant. “That’s dismally practical of you, Henry.”
“Nothing wrong with being practical,” Konrad remarked.
“But, Henry, what of your interest in literature?” Elizabeth demanded.
“You can’t eat it, that’s the problem,” he said. “I’ve tried, it’s very dry, not at all nutritious. And a man does have to earn a living.”
“But look at the applause your play won!” she reminded him.
“I felt like an imposter taking credit,” said Henry. “The idea was yours.”
This was true. But Elizabeth had thought the audience might have been horrified to know that a young lady had invented such a violent and bloodthirsty tale.
“Well,” said Elizabeth, pleased, “a story comes easily enough to me, but the writing was all yours, Henry. You have the soul of a poet.”
“Ah, well,” said Henry. “A merchant does not need to rhyme. What do your stars tell you?”
“I will write a novel,” Elizabeth said with decision.
“What will it be about?” I asked, surprised.
“I don’t know the subject yet,” she said with a laugh. “Only that it will be something wonderful. Like a bolt of lightning!”
“You’ll need a pen name,” Konrad said, for the idea of a woman writing a novel was scandalous.
“Perhaps I will shock the world with my own,” she said. “‘Elizabeth Lavenza’ has such a literary flair, don’t you think? It would be a shame to waste it.”
“And what of marriage?” Konrad asked.
“It would take a remarkable man to make me marry,” she said. “Men are mercury. Always changing. Look at my father. He remarried and just sent me away. I was packed up like a bit of furniture. And he visited me only once in two years.”
“Scoundrel,” I said.
“Not all men are so bad, surely,” said my brother.
She laughed. “No doubt. I will have a fabulous husband and many beautiful, talented children. Now, I have embarrassed myself enough. Victor, what do you see in your future?”
I thought a moment, and then said, “When I see the stars, I think of the planets that must orbit them, and I would like to travel among them. And if we could do so, would not we be gods?”
“A modest goal, then,” said my twin. “Victor just wants to be a god.”
Laughing, I elbowed him in the ribs. “I’m imbued with high hopes and lofty ambitions. And if I can’t travel between planets-”
“Always good to have a back-up plan,” Henry interjected.
“-then I will create something, some great work that will be useful and marvelous to all humanity.”
“You mean a machine of some kind?” asked Konrad.
“Yes, perhaps,” I said, thinking more seriously now. “An engine that will transform the world-or a new source of energy. It seems scientific discoveries are being made every day now. In any event, I will be remembered forever.”
“Statues and monuments will bear your name, no doubt!” Konrad said with a grin.
“Very well. Let us hear your little dreams!” I said.
Konrad stared at the sky. “I will follow Father’s example,” he said thoughtfully. “I would like to help govern Geneva, to make it even greater than it is now. But I’d like to see the world, too. Perhaps cross the ocean and see the new America, or the British colonies to the north. They say there are still vast landscapes there, untouched by Europeans.”
“Then you would abandon us all,” Elizabeth asked, “and marry some exotic native princess?”
Konrad chuckled. “No. I will make my journeys with a soul mate.”
“You’d just want me to carry all your supplies,” I joked. “You’d best find another travel companion.”
But I loved the idea of having a grand adventure with Konrad.
It had always been a favorite game of ours, since we were very young, to lie side by side on the library floor with the great atlas before us, picking the countries we would visit together.
I still yearned for such a trip, just the two of us. West to the New World: to some remote, wild place-where no one would compare us.
CHAPTER THREE
'En Garde!” I panted, lifting my foil.
Konrad and I were near the end of our match, and we were tied. Whoever scored next was winner. In the chateau’s armory, Signor Rainaldi, our fencing master, watched over us, as well as Henry and Elizabeth, both suited up on the sidelines, awaiting their own match.
I took the offensive and made an unimaginative lunge, which Konrad parried easily. I was weary, and my movements were getting sluggish.
“You can do better than that, Little Brother,” said Konrad.
I could not see his face behind his mask, but I doubted it was as slick with sweat as mine.
Almost from the first moment Konrad had held a rapier, he’d seemed born to it. But not me. So I had practiced and practiced, asking Signor Rainaldi for extra drills so I could keep up. It paid off, for Konrad and I were now closely matched, though he still beat me more often than not. Fencing with my twin posed another unique challenge, for we knew each other’s instincts so well it was nearly impossible to surprise each other.
I parried his attack, and planned my next move.
