“Always.” With a grim smile he turned and climbed into the imperial carriage after Papus. I stood there and watched the carriage pull off toward the winding mountain road that would take them to the harbor in Yalta. A ship would take them to Varna, on the Bulgarian coast, and from there they would travel by train to Paris. The journey would last the better part of a week.
And I would be returning to St. Petersburg with Maman within the next few days. By the time the grand duke reached Paris, I would be back at the Smolny Institute for Young Noble Maidens.
CHAPTER NINE
The following morning, we left the family dacha and returned to Sevastopol, where the train waited for our long journey back to St. Petersburg. Our private railcar was comfortable, and the trip would have been pleasant if not for Aunt Zina’s nervous dog. The tiny bichon frise shed almost all of its hair and vomited every half hour from nervousness.
Dariya had already abandoned me and was traveling back to St. Petersburg with Miechen’s entourage. Maman was kind enough to let me sit by the window, and I stared out at the vast fields as we raced north through the Crimea. The mountains stretched out before us, the rich farmlands disappearing into the distance.
When night fell and the view outside the window darkened, everyone climbed into their sleeping berths. The swaying of the train lulled me to sleep and I dreamed I was back at the Livadia Ball. I dreamed that I was searching the ballroom for George Alexandrovich. I wandered in and out between hundreds of dancing couples as the orchestra played a polonaise from the opera A Life for the Tsar. But I could not find George anywhere.
A man grabbed my arm, digging his fingers painfully into my skin. I turned around but the man was wearing a black mask. He was much taller than George, but nowhere near as tall as the tsar.
“Who are you?” I asked.
The man smiled; his white teeth were dazzling and sharp. “Your life will be in less danger if you do not know, Duchess. You have been poking around where you should not be.”
The man had a French accent, but did not look like the wizard Papus. He was much taller and his movements were far too graceful and quick. Almost unnatural. Before I realized what he was doing, he had swept me up into the crowd and we were dancing the polonaise. “The Koldun is keeping his eye on you,” he said. “He believes you are a danger to the tsar.”
I was confused. The Koldun was the tsar’s own wizard. George was in training to replace the existing one. Who that was, I did not know.
I raised my chin and stared into his black eyes. “I can assure you, and you can assure your Koldun, I will give my life to protect the tsar.”
He chuckled. “That would be a terrible waste, ma petite.”
A sudden chill gripped my heart. “What do you mean?”
The masked man did not answer but instead spun me away from him as the music swelled. I found myself unable to stop spinning. The ballroom turned into a huge blur.
I woke up with a gasp. The train was rocking gently as it raced through the dark Crimean night. My mother was asleep in the berth next to me. At some point she had covered me with a thin blanket, but I was shivering. I could still hear the masked man’s laughter in my ears.
Maman shifted and moaned softly in her sleep. The train berths were small and cramped, but our car was much more comfortable than others. I had no right to complain. Taking my blanket and wrapping it around my shoulders, I climbed out of my berth and stood at the window. The sky was beginning to lighten, and by sunrise, we would be passing through Kharkov. I dressed quietly and slipped out of our compartment and headed to the dining car. A cup of hot tea would clear my head.
It was near Kharkov that the imperial train had run off the track last autumn. Twenty-one people on the train had died in the crash, and many more than that had been injured. Officially, the train had been going too fast and the engineer had lost control.
I’d heard whispers from the Dark Court that the train had been sabotaged by vampires. But even an army of vampires could not have accomplished such destruction. In my heart, I suspected dark magic, and remembered Grand Duchess Miechen’s express disappointment when the imperial family survived. She did not hide the fact that she wished for her husband, the brother of the tsar, Vladimir Alexandrovich, to inherit the throne of all the Russias. Was she cruel enough to plot the murders of her own nieces and nephews?
It would have taken much more than any man-made explosive to blow the imperial train completely off its track. The tsar had been forced to tear the crumpled metal roof with his own hands to free the empress and their children. The empress had a sprained hand, and Grand Duchess Xenia had had cuts and scratches on her face and arms. The youngest, Grand Duchess Olga, had been thrown clear through a broken window. The young grand dukes had been badly bruised but were all right. I’d seen the faint scar on George’s hand where the glass had cut him.
Shaking the awful images from my head, I slipped into the dining car. It was empty except for a woman close to Maman’s age. She was wearing a plain black dress and sat reading a book while her tea grew cold.
As I sat down a few tables away from her, the waiter hurried up to me. “Your Highness, we would have been more than happy to bring breakfast to the Oldenburg car. There is no need for you to sit here with other passengers.” He nodded to the woman in black dismissively.
“It is quite all right,” I said. “I did not want to disturb my mother or my aunt. And I won’t be any trouble to you. If you would just bring me tea, please. With lemon.”
As the waiter bowed and left, I looked up to see the woman staring at me. She saw me looking back and quickly glanced again at her book.
The sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. I put my hand flat against the cold window as we rolled slowly past the scene of the accident. A cathedral was being built on the site to give thanks for the imperial family’s safety. Imperial guards stood before the building site, their pale faces stony and grim. The Order of St. Lazarus.
The woman was staring out the window at the guards as well. And she was frowning.
“Is something the matter?” I asked.
She seemed surprise that I had addressed her. “Those men. There is something dreadfully wrong with them. I have seen the same sickness in St. Petersburg.”
I felt my stomach sink. “You have?” How many other people had noticed the walking dead in St. Petersburg?
She gestured to the open book on the table in front of her. “I’ve been researching their symptoms but cannot find any known diseases that correlate.”
“Are you a doctor?” I asked. When she nodded, the anxious feeling I’d had was mixed with excitement and curiosity. I was almost giddy. A female doctor! “I would be honored if you joined me. My name is Katerina Alexandrovna of Oldenburg.”
Recognition showed in her face. “Your father is Duke Alexander Petrovich, then. I am Maria Bokova. I have recently agreed to work in the Oldenburg Hospital for Infants.” She stood and curtsied to me, stiffly.
“How exciting! Please sit with me,” I said, waving my hand at the empty seat at my table. “I plan to attend medical school myself and have many questions I would love to ask you!”
As she sat down carefully, she folded her hands primly in front of her. “And your father agrees to your plans? Why would he allow his daughter to be subjected to such misery?”
“Misery?”
“It is not a life for a pampered young girl, Highness. Why would you throw away the life you have for one such as mine?”
“I want to help people. I want to find cures for diseases.” I’d always known that it would be hard, but I had not expected a female doctor to be so hostile. I had expected more camaraderie. More support. “And I am not a pampered young girl,” I said, unable to ignore her bitter remark.
“Don’t believe for a moment that your father’s money and imperial ties will make it easy for you,” she continued. “It’s bad enough if the instructors and the fellow students believe you have received special favors for b
eing a woman. Whether you actually received those special favors or not. And if they believe your papa bought your admission to the university, it will be a thousand times worse.”
“I passed the entrance examination to Zurich on my own,” I said coolly.
She nodded, but did not seem very impressed. “Perhaps you think it will get easier once you hold your diploma in your hand, but that is rubbish. There are more political and bureaucratic hoops to jump through in order to practice here in Russia as a doctor.”
“And yet you intend to practice in St. Petersburg, and not in the country,” I pointed out. “Surely the problems with bureaucracy are greater in the city.”
Dr. Bokova sighed. “Yes, and I am very grateful to his highness, your father, for this opportunity. I am willing to risk the headaches and heartache. There are so many poor women and children in the city that need medical care.”
“I hope the other doctors at the hospital will not make your work difficult,” I said. Secretly, I worried if Papa could do anything about it if they did.
Dr. Bokova shook her head. “That is neither here nor there. There are always trials and struggles.” She actually smiled a little, the lines around her eyes softening. “It builds character, you see.”
I smiled back, hoping that she might be warming toward me. But as she glanced back at the unfinished cathedral, now fast disappearing from our view, my apprehension returned. “Those men out there,” I asked warily, “you said you saw others with the same symptoms in St. Petersburg?”
“Yes. And before that, in Paris.” She looked back at me and started to stand up. “I am sorry, Your Highness, but I should return to my research.”
“In Paris? Can you tell me when this was?”
“Last month,” she said, nodding. “Do not be alarmed, Your Highness. I don’t feel this mysterious disease is contagious, whatever it is. But I do hope to continue my research when we reach St. Petersburg. Rest assured it will not interfere with my duties at the hospital.”
“Of course.”
Dr. Bokova smiled again, stiffly. “Best of luck to you with your studies, Duchess. Are you headed for Zurich now?”
“Unfortunately, no. My parents wish for me to delay my studies one more year and continue at the Smolny Institute this fall.”
Her smile grew warmer. “Do not be impatient. Perhaps the tsar and his ministers will reopen the women’s courses at the Medical and Surgical Academy in St. Petersburg.”
“That would be wonderful, but my father has his doubts.” I stood up, realizing the sun was coming up and my mother might be awake and wondering where I’d gone. “It has been such an honor to meet you. Please don’t let me keep you from your research.”
“Thank you, Duchess.” With a curtsy she returned to her table and her book. And I returned to the Oldenburg car.
Maman was just beginning to stir. She fussed as she climbed out of her berth. “Good heavens, you’re awake early, Katiya. And that sun is so bright. Do draw the curtains for me, dear.”
I had wanted to go back to sleep after my strange dream. However, if I had not gotten up and visited the dining car, I would not have met Dr. Bokova. I realized how fortunate I was to have had that nightmare.
After closing the curtains, I turned around to kiss my mother on the cheek. “Good morning, Maman.”
“Mon Dieu, are we in Kharkov yet? By this time tomorrow, we should be almost home. I shall be so happy to see St. Petersburg again.” She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “And I’m truly glad you will not be going to Zurich this fall.”
I smiled back at her, choking on the bitter taste in my mouth. I still intended to go to medical school. One day.
CHAPTER TEN
Two weeks later, I discovered my grand duke had been true to his word. As my parents’ black carriage pulled inside the courtyard of the Smolny Institute for Young Noble Maidens, I saw several members of the Order of St. Lazarus standing stiffly at their posts at the front gates. Waxy and expressionless, they stared straight ahead and did not move. They wore the same dark-green and gold uniform as the Order of St. John, except for the medals on their chests. The familiar Maltese cross had been replaced by an oval medal showing a green hand holding a sword. Curious. I couldn’t remember St. Lazarus using a sword. Or having a green hand, for that matter. But the members of the undead order did have a sort of greenish tinge to their pale skin.
Maman did not even notice them. I could not decide whether their presence made me feel safer.
Thankfully, I was able to persuade my mother not to accompany me inside the building. “Do take care of yourself, Katiya,” she said, squeezing my hands in hers as we stood at the front door. “And give my regards to Madame Tomilov. Your aunt Zina and I will be spending the next few weeks in Biarritz. We will come by to visit you when we arrive back in St. Petersburg.”
I kissed her on both cheeks. “You be careful too, Maman.” I did not want the life my mother lived, constantly following the imperial court in its travels endlessly seeking pleasure. Denmark, Finland, France, Peterhof, the Crimea, Tsarskoe Selo. Only the coldest and darkest part of the winter, the social season, was spent in St. Petersburg by the aristocracy.
There were many old friends who were happy to see me at Smolny. Madame Tomilov, the headmistress, was pleased that I’d decided to return. “Some girls do well without the extra year here at the institute, but I always encourage them to make the most of the education we have to offer. Students who complete our entire program leave more polished. You will learn extra court etiquette and gain knowledge about the nuances of St. Petersburg court society. You’ll also acquire a deeper appreciation for our culture.”
I wanted to point out that I probably knew more secrets and nuances about the Dark and Light Courts than Madame Tomilov ever dreamed and, furthermore, that I did not need to know these nuances to succeed in medical school, but I kept silent. I wanted the school year to pass by quickly so I could continue with my own plans.
“In addition,” Madame Tomilov continued, “you will teach two classes a week to one of the lower forms. I realize you did not intend to receive a teaching certificate, but it is traditional that students taking an additional year of the White Form learn pedagogy and begin teaching simple subjects to the younger girls.”
“Pedagogy?” I asked. It was a term I’d never heard before.
“The science of education,” Madame said. “We shall teach you how to teach properly.”
“Of course, Madame,” I said, curtsying and wondering what course I would be required to instruct. I suspected it would not be Practical Necromancy. And I hoped it would not be Geometry.
My favorite instructor, Madame Orbellani, hugged me when she saw me. “We will continue with the Greek and Latin lessons, Katerina Alexandrovna. The more you know, the easier it will be when you do go to university.”
The Bavarian princesses were delighted that I’d returned. Erzsebet embraced me and spun me around before letting me go. “We will have so much fun this year! Augusta and I are finally old enough to attend the Smolny Ball in November!” I smiled at both of the curly blond princesses. At least there was the ball to look forward to. Perhaps George Alexandrovich would be back from Paris by then, and we would dance the mazurka as we had last year.
Elena did not show any surprise when I brought my things into our old room. I looked over at the empty cot where Dariya had slept. I would miss my cousin, even though I was glad she was now safe, far away from Elena. I wondered how my cousin liked being a lady-in-waiting for Grand Duchess Miechen.
A fourth cot stood in the far corner of our room, and I wondered if the Bavarian sisters were moving in with us from the younger girls’ room. It was rather crowded in their dormitory.
“I knew you would not leave us,” the Montenegrin princess said. “Too many wonderful things will be happening this year. Especially all the balls, where I will dance with the tsarevitch and you will dance with my brother!”
I could not tell her anything. I co
uld not even mention the spell over the institute, since it was because of her that the spell had been cast in the first place. With a bit of malice, I wondered what the empress’s spell would do to her the first time Elena tried any of her dark-magic tricks or tried to sneak off the school grounds.
I decided not to offer any explanation for my change in plans. I couldn’t tell her the tsar wouldn’t let me leave the country because Konstantin Pavlovich might reappear. Nor could I tell her why this school was the safest place in St. Petersburg.
There was a soft knock on the door. “Excuse me, I believe this is my room?” A pretty young girl with dark-blond hair swept up in a neat bun entered.
I recognized her immediately. “Princess Alix?” It was the German princess, sister of the Grand Duchess Ella Feodorovna.
She smiled shyly, but said nothing.
An older girl brushed past her and sashayed in. “I was told this would be my room this year as well,” said Princess Aurora Demidova.
Elena rose regally from her cot. She was not happy to see Princess Alix. “I’m Elena of Montenegro. And I take it you already know Katerina of Oldenburg.”
Alix did not curtsy, but instead moved quickly to put away her things. “I am honored to be here.” She took a small black box out of her trunk and carefully slid it under her cot.
Aurora Demidova looked at all of us before turning her back to us and disdainfully examining the bed linens. “I’ve heard there are new rules this year because someone here was disobedient. Is it true we are not allowed to leave the school premises at all?”
No one knew of the empress’s spell, but the headmistress had mentioned that she would be very strict this year about permitting students to leave.
Elena looked at Princess Aurora warily. She did not approve of either of our new roommates. I had a sinking feeling that the school year was going to be very difficult. Elena did not like it when she was not the center of attention.
The Unfailing Light (The Katerina Trilogy 2) Page 6
