The Wolf Princess

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by Cathryn Constable


  The general shoved Sophie roughly away. “Ivan! It’s time to leave these weeping women. Get that boy. He can become a man.” He smiled at Sophie, a twist of his lips. “This time, without the little wolf girl, we’ll shoot them all.”

  “Don’t you dare!” Sophie screamed into the man’s smiling face. “Don’t you touch the wolves! Don’t you harm them! They are here to protect the princess … from you! They are guardians of the palace! You can’t shoot them!”

  The general didn’t seem remotely bothered by her outburst. “Princess?” he said to the woman standing next to him. “What do you think we should do with this noisy English girl? She’s quite useless!”

  He gave her an unfathomable look before turning to run down the stairs.

  “You’ve got to stop him, Princess!” Sophie cried.

  “But what can I do? The general likes to hunt,” she said, her eyes following him.

  “But you! How could you hurt a Volkonsky wolf?” Sophie felt the tears splash onto her face. “They live to protect you!”

  “But you must understand,” the princess said, “I couldn’t leave that creature loose!” She laughed, but sounded nervous. “It was for your safety!”

  “What do you mean?” Sophie felt the room spin. “He wasn’t going to hurt anyone!”

  The princess shook her head slowly. “If only that were true,” she whispered. “But I have seen a wolf when he kills. He would not be kind.” She leaned toward Sophie. “You think it would be quick? One bite and it’s all over? Not with a wolf. A snap, a bite, and he would sit and wait, watching you bleed before he came and licked up the pool of your blood. Tell me, would you enjoy that?”

  Sophie stared at the beautiful face, lips as red as wolf blood.

  “If only I could find the diamonds, Sophie” — the princess put her hand to Sophie’s face and moved a strand of hair out of her eyes — “I could live here happily, with no worry for the future. We could be friends!”

  She glanced at the wolf’s blood on the floor. “I am sorry about today. The general has made me a little crazy with his demands for money … What I need now is a friend.”

  She smiled, but it made her face look unbearably sad. “Just one friend,” she whispered. “I had hoped it would be you …”

  “Tell him to go!” Sophie said. “Tell him to leave you alone!”

  “Only if you will stay.” The princess was already moving toward the stairs. “And help me?”

  As the princess ran after the general, Sophie leaned against the wall. How could she help this woman?

  The White Dining Room was empty. The remains of the general’s unfinished meal were still on the table, Sophie’s chair still on its side. But where were Delphine and Marianne?

  Sophie ran to the nursery and pushed open the door to see her friends sitting on her bed by the window. Masha was pouring them tea from a samovar on the table.

  “We heard shots!” Marianne ran toward her. “We were so frightened.”

  “Masha brought us here,” Delphine said. She smiled at the girl, who blushed. “She’s Dmitri’s sister.”

  “Dmitri so brave!” Masha said as she handed Sophie a glass of tea. “General say he must shoot wolves!” Her eyes were round. “But Dmitri spit on general’s boots!”

  “And the other wolf?” Sophie whispered. “The wolf that escaped?”

  Masha shook her head. She turned away.

  “What happened?” Marianne asked. They all sat together on the bed. “Honestly, Sophie, we’re worried. It’s all gone weird.”

  Delphine stroked Sophie’s arm. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said. “We need to leave.” As if everything had suddenly been decided in the saying of those words, she ran to the dresser and started pulling out sweaters, jeans, a pile of underwear, moving as fast as if she risked missing a train. “Let’s just pack up everything. Come on, Marianne! You too, Sophie. Let’s just get ready and tell her she has to send us back to Saint Petersburg!”

  Marianne, looking stunned, blinked up at Delphine. “I don’t want to go to Saint Petersburg,” she said slowly. “I want to go back to London … I want to go home!”

  Delphine refolded T-shirts. “Fine. We’ll go home. Just get a move on!”

  “But …” Sophie swung her legs down onto the floor. Was this how it was going to end? The princess wasn’t the person she appeared to be, she had let them down, but she was still in terrible trouble. “She asked for help.”

  “But that’s just it,” Marianne sighed. She looked crumpled, as if someone needed to shake all the creases out of her. “We can’t help her.”

  “But just to leave her with the general …”

  “It’s not safe for us to stay.” Delphine’s voice was firm.

  They would be like the Volkonsky princess, then, Sophie thought … fleeing the palace …

  “Delphine’s right.” Marianne bent down and pulled her rucksack from underneath her bed. “We need to get out of here.”

  It was as if none of them wanted to voice the problem in this apparently simple solution: How? How would they leave the palace? They packed the rest of their things silently.

  Sophie, sitting on her bed, pulled the pencil box out of her rucksack. She opened it and took out the diamond ring. A gift from a Volkonsky princess. She would return it. Even if the princess did not think it so valuable, it might buy her some time with the general.

  “Where did you get that?” Delphine’s hand shot out, and before Sophie realized it, she had the ring on her finger. “Is it real?” she asked.

  “Let me see,” said Marianne.

  Reluctantly, Delphine slid it off her finger and handed it to her. Marianne took it to the window and scratched it against the glass.

  “What are you doing?” Sophie protested.

  “Pretty it may be,” Marianne said, offering it back to Sophie, “but a real diamond would have cut the glass.”

  Sophie put it carefully back in the pencil box. Somehow she wasn’t surprised. And she didn’t mind, not really. It was just odd, she reflected, how she had brought her piece of glass here to remind her of her father, but she would be taking back another to England to remind her of Dmitri, the wolves, and the Volkonskys.

  Delphine, her beautiful tweed coat over her shoulders, announced, “Let’s find the princess.”

  From the top of the staircase they could hear the general’s voice in the atrium. “Ann-aaaa!” They looked over the balustrade. He was standing as he had when he had arrived, legs planted apart. There was a pile of carpets and paintings heaped in the middle of the floor. He threw a battered silver samovar onto the heap.

  “Don’t sulk, little girls!” His voice made them jump. “Don’t hide in the shadows! Show yourselves!”

  “He’s seen us!” Delphine gasped. “What do we do?”

  “Come on!” Sophie said, forcing herself to sound determined and sure. “He’s a bully. Like Natalie Bates at school. You just have to stand up to him.”

  Marianne pulled on her sleeve. “Are you mad? No one ever gets the better of Natalie Bates. You’re better off just walking away.”

  But they descended the staircase slowly.

  “So. A delegation! What could you possibly want, dressed in your coats, carrying your bags?”

  Sophie cleared her throat.

  “Not you!” the man snapped. “I’m not interested in what you’ve got to say! You’ve had your chance … and you wasted it!”

  Sophie was so shocked she took a step backward. Marianne was right. You never won against people like this man. They could always make you feel weak and desperate, and in that split second of feeling unsure, they’d finish you off.

  “We want to leave,” said Delphine, very bravely. “We were just going to tell the princess.”

  “We really do have to go!” Marianne blurted out. She shifted her battered rucksack a little higher on her shoulder.

  The man looked at them and nodded, as if he were considering their request. Then he clapped his hands
together. “Of course!” He smiled broadly and checked his watch. “You must leave! You are bored. You are wanting to return to Saint Petersburg. You must accompany me on my train!”

  “We won’t go with you!” Sophie said.

  “There is no other way to leave!” the general said. “But it’s up to you.”

  Sophie looked at her friends. They seemed desperate. It was as if she felt the palace collapsing around her. The general was right; they had no idea where they were. Their phones didn’t work. They were at his mercy.

  “Ivan will take us to the train in the vozok,” he added with a sly smile.

  Sophie felt Marianne and Delphine sigh with relief. Yes, Ivan would make sure they were all right. He would get them home. The vozok could be outside right now! They would be bundled into it and they would be gone.

  The princess appeared at the top of the stairs.

  “I am leaving,” the general said to her.

  The princess looked distraught. She ran to him. “No, Grigor, no. I can find them. Don’t leave.”

  “I have taken anything of any worth.”

  “No, Grigor,” the princess whimpered. “Please. Take me with you.”

  “Why? You are worth nothing.” He pushed her away. “You disappoint me, Anna. You should have taken that shot — made the kill, as I asked you to. It makes me think you are weak. Come, girls!” he cried then. “Let us get into the vozok — let us all go home!”

  He ushered Marianne and Delphine toward the door. Sophie stayed where she was. The princess had asked for her help. She was in tears. How could Sophie leave her?

  The princess would not look at her. “Just go …”

  “But, Princess …”

  “It’s over.” She looked defeated. It was horrible, worse than when she was being cruel. Yes, Sophie had hated her for trying to kill the wolf, but she knew the princess had been trying to save her. And she felt more upset now that the princess, whom she had thought so mesmerizing, looked as feeble as a bird with a broken wing.

  “It isn’t over. It can’t be. You’re still a princess.” Sophie felt tears welling. She widened her eyes to stop them from spilling onto her face. “We’ll think of something to give to the general. To make him leave you alone.”

  “Nyet.” The princess crossed her arms around her body as if she were suddenly cold. “No one can help me now. You think the general is a bad man? Compared to the men he will send now, he is an angel.” She was shaking. “I could leave the palace, of course. But they will find me. Believe me, wherever I go, those men will find me.” Her voice cracked. “I am undone.”

  Sophie knew she no longer existed to the princess; the woman was talking to herself.

  “We have to think!” Sophie said. She couldn’t leave her like this, not without offering some words of hope. “The princess … the other princess … well, she wouldn’t have wanted to hide the diamonds from you, would she? I mean, you’re a Volkonsky, too, so she must have put them somewhere that you would know about. She must have left clues!”

  Anna Feodorovna raised her head. “Go on,” she whispered.

  “Well, is there anything you’ve found that might lead you to where they are? Anything you’ve heard? Perhaps your parents told you something when you were a child, that you didn’t understand at the time?”

  “They told me nothing.” The princess’s voice caught on the last word.

  “Where would I leave diamonds if I didn’t want anyone to find them? Where they would be safe?” Sophie paced up and down. “Have you asked Dmitri? Masha? They might have information.”

  “Have you been feeding the domovoye with milk and cookies?”

  “No … I …”

  “They’re not your friends. And if they knew where the diamonds were hidden, they would have stolen them!”

  “But they know so much about the palace,” Sophie insisted, even though the princess looked so upset. “They told me a story about how your grandmother, the last Volkonsky princess, nursed a white wolf cub.”

  “I told you not to speak to the servants!” the princess cried. “They fill your head with stories, with lies!”

  “But Dmitri is kind, Princess. He wouldn’t steal from you. He loves his family and he’s proud of working for the Volkonskys. He wants to look after the wolves … he even knows the words to a sort of lullaby that calms them. He told me … he told me the words …”

  The image of the two of them sitting high in the chandelier, watching the light sparkle onto the floor …

  “I don’t have time for this madness!”

  “About snow and wolves and tears on the ballroom floor in the moonlight,” Sophie said.

  “You can’t help me.” The princess turned away.

  “My father used to sing me that same tune when I was a child … isn’t that strange?” Sophie said. “Of course, I didn’t know the words, though … how could I?”

  “How could you …” The princess turned back, slowly.

  “But the light on the floor is so beautiful,” Sophie whispered. “It does look like tears, except …”

  She remembered hooking her fingers through that long, gray, dull strand of crystals. Delphine standing in their room at school, her father’s crystal drop held up to her ear, and now strung on Sophie’s neck …

  She looked down.

  The princess’s eyes glittered, then her fingers darted into the neck of Sophie’s blouse and tugged hard at the string. Sophie felt a sharp burning sensation on her neck.

  “It’s just a piece of glass!” Sophie said. “Please don’t take it. My father gave it to me …” She thought of how he would hold the glass up to let the light sprinkle around … sprinkle around … She saw the princess hold up the glass, looking closely at it, and as it began to twirl, the colors in it danced and a tiny memory fell into place.

  Sophie gasped, then laughed. Had her worthless piece of glass given her the clue to finding the Volkonsky riches?

  “I know!” she said. “I know where they are! Perhaps Dmitri and his family knew all along, too — except they didn’t realize it!”

  “You know?” The princess’s voice seemed to catch again. “Are you sure? Is this some childish game?”

  “This isn’t a game.”

  The princess wrapped her fingers around the glass. “I can tell the difference between glass and diamonds,” she whispered.

  “This is no game, Princess,” Sophie repeated. “Get Ivan. And Dmitri …”

  The princess looked at Sophie. There was a confused look on her face, as if she didn’t know what to do. But then she picked up an old-fashioned telephone and spoke tersely into it.

  They ran through the shadows toward the ballroom, Sophie’s heart bursting with happiness. “It’s so simple,” she laughed. She, Sophie Smith, would save this Volkonsky princess!

  Ivan stood at the door to the ballroom. Dmitri was there, too. Sophie ran toward him, excited. But Dmitri just looked at the floor, not smiling.

  The princess strode into the ballroom and stood, impatiently tapping her foot. Sophie took no notice of Dmitri’s sullen face. He might be cross that the princess had set him such a demeaning task, but all would soon be explained and he and his family would be so happy … the history of the Volkonskys would come full circle.

  “Pull down the rope!” she said. “Quickly! There’s something I have to show the princess!”

  The boy frowned, then walked slowly, so slowly, to the side of the room and picked up a long pole. As he hooked the end of the pole into the chandelier, the rope slipped down and danced in the air for a few seconds.

  “The wolf princess was so clever …” Sophie said. “She cleaned the chandeliers in 1917 — on the eve of the Revolution! She wasn’t mad — she was making preparations!”

  “What are you doing?” the princess whispered.

  “Dmitri!” Sophie shoved her foot into the loop. “You’ll have to help me.” The boy didn’t respond. “I can’t get up there on my own!” Without someone to haul up th
e rope, she would have to climb, sailor style. Dmitri groaned. He was being really silly, thought Sophie.

  “Anna! Ann-aaaaa!” The general appeared in the doorway. “What’s going on?” he snapped. “Anna? What are you all doing here? What are you whispering about?”

  “Nothing!” the princess said fearfully. “We’re not talking about anything!”

  “Are you plotting together?” He walked toward them slowly.

  Sophie took a step closer to the princess.

  “I am loyal!” The princess spoke fast. “You know that! I gave you the papers the minute you arrived. Everything is yours!”

  The man crossed his arms. “And tell me,” he sneered, “how does an empty palace help me?”

  “I need more time!” The princess ran toward him, grabbed his arms. The man stood impassive. “Please, Grigor! Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for us!”

  “Us? You’ve done everything for us? And what is this ‘everything’? You’ve bought yourself furs … set yourself up here …”

  “Grigor!” the princess sobbed.

  “And who is this ‘us’?” He uncrossed his arms and roughly pushed her toward the large mirror. “Here we are!” he cried, pulling out his pistol. “The happy couple!”

  A soft popping noise, like a champagne cork, and the mirror shattered in a torrent of splintering glass.

  “Get me the diamonds, Anna. Then we’ll talk about ‘us.’” With a casual flick of the smoking pistol, he waved toward Ivan. “Put my things in the vozok.”

  “I won’t take orders from you any longer,” Ivan said quietly.

  “Then you’ll die where you stand.” The general held up the still-smoking pistol, aiming for the middle of Ivan’s chest.

  Sophie’s breath caught in her throat. He wouldn’t … he couldn’t …

  “Nyet!” The voice came from high up, in the chandelier, which quivered above them.

  Sophie looked up. Dmitri was sitting there.

  Ivan said something to him in Russian.

  “Get out!” snapped the princess to Ivan. “You’re of no use to me now. I rescue you from the gutter and this is how you repay me?”

 

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