The Ring of the Queen (The Lost Tsar Trilogy Book 1)

by Terri Dixon

  Part XXVI

  I really concentrate on what's on my plate at the moment and do the very best I can.

  -Ruth Bader Ginsburg

  “So, the old broad helped you out.” Peter said once we’d pulled away from the house. “She must have decided that she likes you.”

  “Is that what that means?” I giggled. “I thought she was anxious to get me out of her house and away from her grandson.”

  “I suppose it had something to do with that as well,” he answered. “So, what’s with the hat? Didn’t you like your new look?”

  “You wouldn’t believe it!” Tania jumped in from over the front seat where she was sitting next to Steve. Peter and I were sitting in the back. Tish thought that Steve was the better driver, so he was assigned as the chauffer by her. “Stacie, take the hat off,” she ordered me.

  I took the hat off and smoothed my dark brown hair. I looked up at Peter.

  “Dear God,” he said. “You look beautiful.”

  Tania reached over the seat and smacked him in the head. “I know you have the hots for her and all, but look closer. Does she resemble anyone that you’ve ever seen or seen a picture of?”

  He looked at Tania, pushed her hand away so she couldn’t slap him again. He looked at me for a moment. “You look like Catherine the Great,” he gasped.

  The monster Hummer came to an instant stop as Steve slammed on the brakes. He looked into the back seat at me. “Wow princess, you really are a royal,” he said, smiling. “It’s hard to miss with your new hairstyle.” He glanced around at everyone in the car. “Okay, we’ve all had a look at the Empress in training. Can we get on with it? We need to get this monster to Tver before it gets too late.” He turned to put the car in gear again and drove on. “You’d better keep that hat on,” he told me over his shoulder. "You'd be surprised how many people in this part of the country will notice the resemblance."

  I pulled the hat back over my hair. If I’d been nervous before, it couldn’t match what I was feeling then. I felt as though everyone in Russia would see me and immediately see how much I looked like Catherine the Great. Why did I have to look like her? I was coming to accept that I was her ancestor, but why did I have to look like the single most recognizable woman in the history of Russia? She’d been dead for over two hundred years, and from what Steve was saying it sounded as though everyone still knew what she looked like. If this was some kind of Karma, I didn't like it one bit. Karma is obviously not a good thing in some cases. In some cases it might get you killed.

  The flipside to my angst was the Russian countryside. It was dark, but the moon was full. Everything looked blue in the winter moonlight. I could see what were called villages as we drove on through the eerie blue countryside. It seemed as though anyplace that had a few huts, dachas, houses, or whatever in close proximity was called a village. I didn’t know if there were even roads that connected these villages. I couldn’t see any evidence of road signs. With all of the snow and the fact that we were traveling in a monster Hummer, I didn’t know if we were following roads or crossing fields.

  I decided that despite the troubles I was having that taking a class was not the way to see Russia. I was quickly realizing that I would have missed the whole ambience of the country if I’d stayed in Moscow. Out here I felt like I was seeing the real Russia. I knew that both city and country were part of the country’s makeup, but there was something about being in the country that felt real. I’d spent most of my life in the country in Indiana, and my time in Moscow had seemed like a dream. It was so overwhelming and so crowded that it seemed less real to me. Out here where you saw real homes that belonged to real people who had real jobs—that was where real life was. Capitals were for tourists and bureaucrats, gangsters and celebrities . I didn't to be a tourist. I wanted to be a traveler.

  “It’s so beautiful,” I commented after gazing out the window for a long time. “I can’t believe that I would have missed all this if whole Tsarina thing hadn't come up.”

  “There is something mesmerizing about the countryside in winter,” Peter commented. “There’s nothing quite like the blue that comes with a dark January afternoon. So, what’s it like where you come from?”

  “It’s a lot like this, only with more daylight,” I replied. “I come from the country pretty much. My mom lives in Servia, Indiana. She lives next to an airfield that's still grass, and there's only a few residents. I’m not much for the city. I liked to spend most of my time at my grandmother’s when I was growing up. She lived in a little town called North Manchester, and that was big enough for me. It was a hundred times bigger than Servia and still only had three traffic lights. That’s the middle of nowhere, and I live there in her house now. It's small, and everyone knows everyone else.”

  “Are there a lot of farmers there?” Peter asked.

  “Are you kidding?” I replied. “There are virtually nothing but farmers there. They still have a few Amish people around the area. You know, the ones with no cars, that still use horse and buggies? There are some businesses and the college, but that's about it.”

  “Wow, that’s old fashioned all right,” Steve commented from the front seat. "Real Amish?"

  “Yes, real Amish. And yes, it's old fashioned,” I replied. “Anyway, everything there is a little old fashioned. They still have ice cream socials at the local churches. They still have town basketball and softball tournaments. They still have a volunteer fire department. It’s a tiny place. It's always felt like home.”

  “It sounds pretty nice to me,” Peter said. “Dubna is a lot like that. It’s a computer town, but it’s a close community. There aren’t any busy streets or high crime areas. There aren’t any horse and buggies either though.” He smiled at me.

  “I wish I had more time to see what Dubna was like,” I said. “I think I probably would like it.” I smiled back at him

  Peter and I had a connection. I had thought that maybe we only came together because of our situation, but I could feel now that it was more. I didn’t know what or how much more, but there was something there. I wished that I had time to find out more about the relationship that could never be. It was the one part of the experience that I didn't want to end.

  I decided to change the subject to something less nostalgic. “So, did you manage to make us some passports?” I asked.

  “Of course,” Peter answered. He reached in his pocket and pulled out two very authentic looking passports. He handed one to me and gave the other one to Tania in the front seat. “Take a look ladies. Will they do?”

  I decided the minute I opened the passport that he was the best techno-criminal in the world. The passport that I held in my hands looked exactly like the one that I’d brought into the country with me. I couldn’t believe the details. I could even see that it had a chip embedded in it. I could only guess that Peter had designed it to work exactly like the original. I felt for the first time like I might make it out of the country without getting arrested and thrown in prison for the rest of my life. It was a comforting thought.

  If only I wanted to leave. I felt like Russia could easily feel like home. I had this strange feeling that I belonged there. I couldn’t explain it. It must be the same Karma that I felt when I looked in the mirror and realized that I looked like a deceased Tsarina.

  “Well, finally something that gives me hope,” Tania commented from the front seat. “These are great. No one will ever spot these as fakes.”

  “Why, thank you,” Peter replied. He looked at me. “What do you think?” he asked me.

  “I think I’ll finally be able to get home,” I said softly.

  “Don’t sound so enthusiastic,” Tania snapped. “Look, we can’t stay here princess. We have to blow this joint before someone cuts your head off. I know, it’s a cool country and most of the people are great, yadda yadda. I get it, but reality check. We have to get the hell ou
t of here.” She turned around and went back to staring out the windshield. I could tell she wasn’t happy.

  “I hate to say it, but she’s right,” Peter said to me. “Sometimes, things aren’t meant to be the way we want them to be.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out my grandmother’s ring. “This is for you,” he said as he handed it to me.

  I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know that he’d taken the ring. I didn’t know why he would. I didn’t know why he wouldn’t have told me that he wanted to take it. I didn’t know what was going on, but I tried not to get all bent out of shape before I found out.

  I took the ring from him and put it on my finger. “Thanks,” I said. I didn’t say anything else, hoping that he would explain himself.

  He smiled at me. “Wow, I’m good,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.

  I stared at him. I didn’t know what he was talking about.

  He eyed me cautiously. “Take the ring off,” he said. I did. “Look inside where the inscription is.” I did. “Look carefully.” I did.

  The inscription was wrong. The inside of the ring had always had an inscription that I thought was a year. I didn’t know for certain, but I thought that the numbers were a year. I'd always thought it said 1792. This ring said 1799. It was not my ring.

  “I don’t understand,” I said to him.

  “That’s not your ring,” Peter announced. “I had a duplicate made. I had Sadie put the wrong date on it, so that we could tell the difference.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because, there’s still a chance that you’ll get caught before you leave the country. I don’t think that you should ever be without that ring. This way, if they take it, it won’t matter. The date is the only way to tell the difference between the rings.” He looked at me for a moment. He pulled the real ring from his pocket and gave it to me. “Put this one where no one can find it. Leave the false one out. That way they can’t get at it.”

  I took the ring from him and put it in my pocket. “Thanks,” I said. “I didn’t think of an alternative to giving them the ring. I’m glad you’re looking out for me. But won't they know that's the wrong date?”

  "I don't think so. The ring is a myth in the first place. How would they know the date on the inscription?"

  He was right. We were the only ones that knew about the inscription. "You're really something, you know that?"

  “You two want to be alone?” Tania asked sarcastically from the front seat.

  “It does sound like they’re smitten,” Steve commented from the driver’s seat.

  “Are we there yet?” Peter asked, trying to change the subject.

  “No,” Steve answered.

  “Hey, I was wondering, what does that date have to do with Catherine the Great, anyway?” Tania asked. “I’ve been wondering that since I had my first look at the ring.”

  “What was that date?” Steve asked.

  “1792,”I replied.

  Steve thought for a moment. “That’s the year that she conquered the Crimea,” he answered. “That’s tears it. The legend is real. That ring was supposed to be commissioned to celebrate the event.”

  Each time I heard another piece of the puzzle, I was more convinced. This was all real. This was my life. This was my country. This was my history. This was the most incredible thing that could happen to me in my entire life. Now I had to run away from it all. I had to run from my true place back to Indiana where no one would try to kill me. Life made no sense.

 

  The Ring of the Queen

  Part XXVII

  No matter how good you are, how brave you are or anything, it comes down to that car so many times.

  -Danica Patrick