Hadassah's Watchman Trilogy by Evangheline Farcas (english love story books txt) 📖

trampled had you not been there calling for everyone to stop. You took a hold of her, then guided her to the local café. There you fed her, and out of your own meager savings you clothed her. What you couldn't have known then was that both the Queen and her son, Prince Carl Philip were enraptured by your actions. Every move you made that day was followed by a man named Victor who has faithfully served them for many years."
At a complete loss for words she motioned for me to continue, so clearing my throat I continued.
"Do you remember why you were in Stockholm that year?"
She wrinkled her nose in concentration, "It was four years ago, but I remember St. Carla's Church, doing charity work for the needy of Stockholm, it was the best year of my life. That year I learned to be God's hands." she recalled the wonderful memories with fondness.
I chuckled, "Seems that two thousand and six was an unforgettable year for Prince Philip as well. He had been studying graphic design for quite a while up until then, one of his first projects he chose to do at St. Carla's, he spend three full weeks there photographing residents who came requesting help. On the side I dare say he snapped some pictures of you, though mysteriously he never gave those away, he guarded you like a priceless treasure."
"Me?" she exclaimed, it was evident that she couldn't fathom why a prince would take notice of her.
"Don't be so surprised my dear, his family also had humble beginnings. His own family traces down to a mare commoner, Jean-Baptiste Bernadotte to be precise. He was a commoner from Pyrenees, he valiantly rose through the ranks and soon enough was awarded the title of Prince of Pontecorvo by Napoleaon himelf. Then as if that was not enough, he was adopted by the Swedish monarch, Karl XIII. Prince Philip knows the history of his family very well," I informed her, "he also knows that when one humbles himself in front of the Lord, the Lord lifts him up."
Her eyes twinkled like stars with excitement now, as her perception of the royals was changing. Hadassah cupped her face in her hands with elbows on the kitchen table listening with rapt attention.
"This country, has served as a refuge for many people, for the Jews during the times of Hitler's reign, but also for Romanians during the time of communism. That is the heart of this country, although some are forgetting."
"When? How could he have remembered me this long?" she asked still a skeptic.
Warmth filled me, for stories such as these did indeed warm my heart, "He never forgot you, how could he? But his duties had taken him across the globe with his schooling and training, but now he has returned, and they will honor him with numerous festivities, to which an invitation for you had been arranged," again I chuckled getting caught up in the wonder of it once more, "of course he had quite a time finding you had moved to this small town in Bolstabruk."
Smiling as if in a fairytale she persisted, "When?"
"The festivities will begin in a month's time, to which I will escort you."
Flabbergasted, she twirled her hair around her fingers, a dozen worries seemed to flash across her face, as she studied her all to modern clothing. I knew what she was thinking.
"No worries my dear, you will be fully prepared, equipped and might I add lavishly decorated." I assured her.
She breathed in several calming breaths, "Why? Why am I to go? What will become of me?"
"Very soon the persecution that once was in Romania will begin anew, there have been subtle signs and several cries from watchmen in your home country, the time is drawing near." I said gravely.
"I don't understand Raphael, what has this to do with me? I don't even remember Romania, I was still an infant when I was adopted and brought here." she spoke nervously.
It never ceased to amaze me how true the words of the Most High were, for in this moment it was true indeed that what once was will be again. This century's Hadassah mirrored the former in more ways then even she realized... and the tie to her namesake was closer that even she knew.
"Sweet child, it is still your country of birth, the country in which your parents sacrificed their lives for. Truthfully, if you don't intercede for your people, as Mordecai himself said, God will raise someone else, but you will perish."
Hadassah rose from her seat and began pacing circles in her kitchen, absently putting dishes away, then running nervous hands through her dark silky hair. Tears slipped through her long lashes making her cheeks shimmer and shine.
"What must I do?"
Her willingness to serve, made fatherly pride swell within me.
"Continue to win the heart of the Prince and then proceed to melt the heart of the king, when the time comes you will take a stand, you will know what to do."
She sighed, I knew she wanted to believe, yet she could not see her own worth, still she nodded. Countless moments passed in silence, as we both looked out the window lost in thought of what possibilities and perhaps even dangers lay ahead. The day was still bright though it was nearing ten in the evening. Through the window we could see the waters as blue as forget me knots, in the distance the immense paper factory was the only thing that intruded on this picturesque scene, with gray smoke billowing into thick clouds.
"Raphael?"
"Yes child?"
"Play me another song on your violin."


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The city of Alba Iulia was bright this morning, though it should have been dark as night, it would have fit better for this terrifying day. Seraph looked at the crowds walking to and fro in the piata, not seeing that freedom was slowly being stripped away.
Seraph had watched over this city for so long, it was easy to see the darkness encroaching. As even now he met the blue flaming eyes of a dark one, immense wings spanned over the city, dipped as always in blood. Yet it never ceased to amaze him how though these were fallen angels, still their God-given beauty had not been stripped from them, the only think that made them terrifying was how they had dirtied themselves with dark stains of innocent blood. Perhaps this was why they could still masquerade as angels of light.
Pastor Lucas passed before him in deep conversation with one of the city officials, compromising more then he should. Did Lucas not see how one compromise only lead to another? And soon enough little by little they would only find themselves in the hands of the devil.
"But Ioan he is only a young man, Ionatan nu stie, doesn't know how his speech could be found offensive cut him some slack, he is only full of young zeal." begged Lucas
"It's hate talk! That's what it is, he can't condemn another persons life style it's their choice." Ioan bellowed.
Desperatly Lucas tried to keep Ioan's quick pace, "Sure it is, he was just pointing out that in our faith it is wrong."
Daggers seemed to shoot out of the Congressman Ioan's eyes, daggers and rage as the dark one whispered in his ear, "Next month what your faith calls wrong will be considered ignorant hate talk and there will be consequences to it." He accentuated each word.
Ioan tried to stifle a gasp, "Come now Congressman, that would be returning our country back to the tyranny Ceausescu reigned with, surely our country will not go backward, only forward. Shouldn't each person be able to express their view freely?"
He harrumphed, "Close mindedness is not the future of this country, please make sure you educate Ionatan on what his future will hold if he continues in his ignorant ways."
Seraph observed the dark ones attempting to entrap Lucas, chains were being draped on him, but the choice still remained with him... and the choice had not yet been made.

CHAPTER FOUR

Love never reasons, but profusely gives; it gives like a thoughtless prodigal its all, and then trembles lest it has done to little.
- Hannah More


Stockholm, Sweden, Summer 2010

The Clarion Hotel was not too far from the Royal Palace of Stockholm, it was full of glamour and splendor that Hadassah had never been exposed to before and she didn’t quite know how to handle it now. She looked around her with wide eyes absorbing every detail, as she stepped into a suite in the hotel and set her luggage by the door.
It was nearing eleven in the evening, she was exhausted for the day had been full of exploration of this city full of vibrancy and life. Raphael had made certain that she saw it all as she was unable to afford to do on her previous visit. He had shown her Djurgarden the Royal Game Park where they would join the royal family for the music festival. The gardens were spectacular with lively green trees, unending stretches of forests and meadows that were food for the eyes. Djurgarden was an island in central Stockholm and the waters around it gave a sweet dreamy even magical feel to it. Then he had taken her to the Royal Palace of Stockholm wich overlooked lake Malaren and was surrounded by numerous parks. Absorbing every detail it was not completely unbelievable that this place was often referred to as the Venice of the North.
Now after a dinner that could only be described as a feast, Raphael retired to the room next to hers, and she was now alone.
She began to unpack, as neatly as possible she set her clothes in the closet to free them of wrinkles then readied herself for bed. But regardless how tired she was she could not sleep, so she sat on the loveseat in front of the flat screened television. She was about to grab the remote and flip through the channels but her hand froze over an envelope on the coffee table, it had a beautiful red wax seal on it, almost to beautiful to break. Her full name: Laura Hadassah Marcu was written in beautiful calligraphy of an experienced artist. With careful tenderness she took it and slowly broke the seal, taking out the soft obviously expensive stationary paper she began to read the words as if in a dream:


My Dear Friend Hadassah,

Although we have not been properly introduced to your knowledge, I do consider you my friend. Imprinted in my mind and heart, your face has remained ever-present, a reminder to me even during my travels that kindness and humility still has a presence in this world. You may remember that among my first projects I had decided to photograph the charity and love found at St. Carla’s Church towards the less fortunate of this our capital of Sweden, what you do not know, indeed no soul knows is that prior to starting this project I had decided to not come as a prince, but as one of those in need.
In rags I came and it was your face that greeted me. After my ‘needs’ had been cared for, which you arranged with painstaking detail, you