“Wait … Mis-tresss …”
“I shall return shortly, Your Excellency. Let me bring you something to eat.”
“Hungry …”
“You need to stay in the woods and hide.”
“Hide …”
The kitchens were in a smaller building apart from the main palace. The back door was open, and I could hear the servants cleaning up and preparing to sell the leftovers. I opened my purse, finding a few rubles that Papa had given me. “Do you have any of the duck left?” I asked one of the servant women, a ruddy-faced peasant, who looked at me suspiciously.
“No duck. We have plenty of lamb, though,” she said. I paid a dear price for it, probably more than they would sell it for to the poor, but I didn’t mind. I wasn’t sure if that would fill an undead count’s belly, so I also purchased a baked potato and some pastries. She wrapped the food in a cloth napkin and handed it to me.
“Thank you,” I said, and hurried back to the wooded area, where I hoped the count had stayed hidden. I had no idea if revenants even ate real food. Perhaps there was a chapter in A Necromancer’s Companion on their care and feeding. I hoped a warm meal would at least keep the count from gnawing on his own arm.
“Count Chermenensky?” I whispered, not really wanting to wander into the trees to search for him. “Your Excellency?”
A rustle of the dry branches answered me. “Count Chermenensky!” I whispered. “I have some food for you.”
The rustling grew louder. And then someone lurched out of the trees. It was not Count Chermenensky. With a low growl, he grabbed for me, knocking the napkin of food out of my hand.
“Mis-tresss!” That was the count, and he came running out of the woods at my attacker. I could not see who the other creature was, but he growled and whined like the count. I realized it was another of the undead knights of the Order. One who did not call me mistress.
The two struggled, not fighting over the food as I’d half expected, but fighting over me. If I had been a smart girl, I would have run back into the palace. But terror had me paralyzed. I did not want Count Chermenensky to get hurt by the other creature.
“Stop it!” I cried. “Leave him alone!” There was nothing I could pick up to throw at them or hit the other one with. It was like watching two wild dogs fight, bloody and vicious. I knew it would be dangerous for me to try to separate them. Still, I felt astonishingly useless.
With a snarl, the other knight tore into the count’s shoulder. He howled out, and I knew the poor creature could still feel pain. He ripped at the other knight’s face, tearing a bit of his already rotting skin away. I bit back a scream. I couldn’t look anymore.
Suddenly, I heard a loud crack of gunfire over my head. I dropped down to the snow. The creatures did not stop fighting. “Cease!” a loud voice boomed. It was the grand duke, sounding more like his father than I’d ever noticed before. His revolver was aimed straight at the undead soldiers.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
“Protect … Mis-tresss …,” Count Chermenensky muttered, clawing at the other knight once more. His opponent either had not heard the grand duke or hadn’t cared. He was still trying to tear Count Chermenensky apart.
“Katerina, get inside. Now!” the grand duke barked. I stood up, my dress covered in wet snow. I was freezing.
“Do not hurt the count,” I begged. “He was only trying to protect me.”
“Now, Duchess.” His face was hard. He looked years older at that moment. I nodded finally, tears running down my face, and headed toward the palace.
The sound of another shot made me stop and turn around again. “No!” I ran back down to the edge of the woods. A lone creature lay in the snow, whimpering.
“He got away,” the grand duke said grimly. “Your count. What the devil were you doing out here, anyway?”
I wiped the tears from my cheeks. “I heard him in the woods and I was bringing him food.”
The creature on the ground had merely been slowed down by the bullet hole in the side of his head. He was already dead, so the grand duke could not have killed him. The grand duke rolled the knight over.
“Demidov,” he said. “He must have smelled your food too.”
“Demidov?” I grabbed the grand duke’s jacket sleeve. “Dr. Kruglevski’s toxin screen! He’d been poisoned with hemlock.”
“Poisoned? That makes no sense.” The grand duke stared at the revenant’s body. “He seemed perfectly healthy before he died.”
I shook my head. “It’s the same poison that made my cousin and the others at Smolny ill.”
The creature began to stir, and the grand duke pulled me back protectively. “You must leave, Duchess.”
“But the hemlock—”
“I’ll look into it. But you must return to the ball.”
Demidov moaned and started to stand. The grand duke pulled his saber from the scabbard at his side. “Go back to the ball, Katerina. Before your fiancé misses you.”
His words stung, but I knew he was right. I had to play the infatuated young girl. For the grand duke’s safety as much as for my brother’s. I nodded sadly and headed back inside the palace.
“Unless you still need to be rescued,” the grand duke said softly over his shoulder.
I turned around to face him, holding back more tears. I tried to keep my mind blank so he couldn’t read my true thoughts. My true feelings. “I thank you, Your Imperial Highness. But I can take care of myself.”
I returned to the ball, not wanting to watch him complete his grim task. The grand duchess Xenia and Princess Alix were sitting in the drawing room still, nervously waiting for me. Princess Alix jumped up when she saw me. “What happened to you?” she cried. I looked down and noticed the mud on my skirts.
“Merde!” How was I going to explain that? I sighed.
“Forgive me,” the princess said. “My French is very poor and I have learned very little Russian since we have been here. What is ‘merde’?”
The grand duchess giggled and whispered into the princess’s ear. Princess Alix blushed. “I see,” she said. “I thought it looked like mud.”
I shook my head. The princess asked a servant to bring us some rags and a bowl of water. She helped me sponge most of the dirt from my gown. Perhaps in the dim light of the chandeliers, and on the carriage ride home, no one would notice the other smudges. I sighed. “Thank you for helping me,” I told the princess.
“Did you and Georgi talk?” the grand duchess asked eagerly. “Did he kiss you?”
“What? Of course not!” I couldn’t help blushing. “Why would he do such a thing?”
She looked disappointed. She leaned closer, whispering so Princess Alix could not hear. “With my mother’s faerie sight, I can see glimpses of the future,” she said. “And I see you and my brother embracing. I thought tonight he would tell you to get rid of that black-hearted prince Danilo and run away with him instead.”
If only he had. If only I could have told him yes. But I had made it quite clear to the grand duke that I was committed to the crown prince. He would not ask me again. It was not safe to have such fantasies about the grand duke. Not for him or for me.
I shook my head.
“Is that what this was all about?” Princess Alix asked, looking shocked. Her hearing was extraordinarily acute. “You were walking in the woods with the grand duke?”
“I went for a walk for the fresh air. The grand duke must have decided he needed fresh air as well, for he came upon me after I slipped on the wet embankment. He behaved like a perfect gentleman.”
“Who behaved like a perfect gentleman?” my fiancé asked, entering the drawing room. I glanced at the grand duchess and princess, silently pleading with them not to say anything about the grand duke. “I do hope you are speaking about me.” He took my gloved hand and pressed it to his lips. I squirmed with revulsion.
“Of course, Danilo.” I slipped my hand out of his grasp. “Do we have time for one last dance?”
“They are
about to begin the cotillion. That is why I came looking for you. Did you enjoy your card game?”
“Yes, very much,” the grand duchess Xenia said, stepping on Princess Alix’s foot before she could say anything. George’s sister looked at me reproachfully with her huge dark eyes. But she would help me keep my secret.
“Then we shall have the princess and the grand duchess over every night to play cards with you when we are married.” Which of course was not true, since the heir of Montenegro and his bride would have to reside in his home country. I would probably never see the princess or the grand duchess ever again. Danilo placed my arm in his with a possessive smile. “This way, my love.”
I knew Grand Duchess Xenia was shocked, and probably more than a little peeved that I would choose the crown prince over her brother. If only she knew that I preferred to keep the grand duke alive and safe, she would understand. Perhaps one day the grand duke would understand as well.
That was the last large ball before Lent. There would be no more dances or operas or ballets for the season, and in a way I was relieved. I hated parading around on the crown prince’s arm. Especially when I saw the way it disturbed the grand duke. How I wished it were his hand on my waist.
CHAPTER FORTY
The Lenten fast was upon us, which meant no meat during the week. Our days and nights were quiet, spent reading or doing needlework. Maman even gave up her tarot cards for forty days and forty nights. Princess Alix and her father and brother returned to Wulfgarten. The Montenegrins left for Cetinje, with Prince Danilo promising to return before Easter.
“It is only for a little while, my love,” he said. “You must write me every day.” I did no such thing, and I burned all the letters he sent me.
With my royal wedding back on, our trip to Biarritz was, of course, postponed. Maman now made plans for us to journey to Cetinje in the summer. She was eager to meet the King and Queen of Montenegro.
Once a week I went with Maman to the hospital to visit with the sick and to the Oldenburg Infant Asylum to bring food and clothing to the orphans.
Papa was still busy with the planning of his institute of experimental medicine. He had been corresponding with several leading scientists across Europe for their suggestions. The building of the institute had already begun. Papa hoped it would be completed within two years. In the meantime, he was collecting a massive medical library, which he kept in his own library at Betskoi House. I’d heard no word from either Paris or Zurich, but it was just as well, I told myself. A crown princess could not become a doctor. I continued to study the medical journals and textbooks, soaking in the knowledge, all the same.
On a cold and dismal day in March, we were visiting the hospital when Dr. Kruglevski received another patient with his throat ripped out. The smell of the blood was horrible.
Maman would have swooned and fallen to the floor if the head nurse had not caught her and settled her down onto an empty cot nearby. I fanned her while another nurse brought her a cup of tea.
The nurses gave Maman a cool wet rag for her forehead, and I went to see the body. “Do you think it was an animal?” one of the nurses was asking. She crossed herself and prayed for the poor man’s soul.
Dr. Kruglevski shook his head. “No man could do something this hideous,” he said. There was a hole in the victim’s neck bigger than my hand. The jugular had been shredded and mangled. The doctor pulled me back. “Don’t look, my dear. I wouldn’t want you to have nightmares.”
“But a doctor must be objective,” I said. “And truly, it doesn’t bother me much.” Not anymore, at least. I realized with shock that I sounded like a coldhearted monster myself. Perhaps that was what I’d been all along. Just another monster.
“Seeing men injured by war or disease is one thing,” Dr. Kruglevski said. “Cold-blooded, senseless violence like this disturbs even an old man like me, Duchess.” He patted me kindly on the shoulder. He pulled a silver flask out of his pocket and took a long drink.
The dead man’s hand was clenched shut with rigor mortis. I could see something shiny hidden in his fingers. I took a handkerchief and wiped away some of the blood and tried to pry his hand open. His fingers were cold and already a bluish gray.
“Duchess, what are you doing?” the doctor asked.
“He’s holding something. He must have struggled with his attacker.” I gently opened his fingers and pulled the shiny object out, holding it to the light. It was a button. From a military jacket.
“Mon Dieu.” The doctor frowned. He took the button from my hand and held it against the buttons on the man’s torn coat. It was a perfect match, yet none of the man’s buttons were missing. There was some sort of crest on the button. The shape of a Maltese cross.
I sighed sadly. Another Knight. “Do you know who the victim is?” I asked.
“No, but I am sure another member of the Order can make an identification.”
“Will you send for the commander?”
“Yes.” He asked the nurse to send a message to Vorontsov Palace requesting General Tcherevine’s presence for the identification of the body. He took another long drink from his silver flask. I’d never seen the doctor look so tired and old before. It appeared as if he hadn’t slept in days.
“Is there anything I can do for you, Doctor?” I asked. “Can I get you a cup of tea? Or something to eat?”
He shook his head and smiled. “I thank you, but no. And I hope you are getting a good glimpse at the unglamorous side of being a physician. It is not all glory and praise for medical breakthroughs.”
“Of course. This is where the real heroism is seen,” I said quietly. I laid a hand on the doctor’s shoulder before leaving him to check on my mother.
I sat with her until General Tcherevine arrived with several of his officers. Petya was with him. “Mother?” he said, rushing to her side.
“She’s fine,” I told him. “We were here when they brought the young man in, and she swooned. She should be feeling well enough to ride home soon.”
“When will this nightmare end?” Maman asked, starting to grow hysterical again. I gave her my handkerchief.
Petya and I both followed the general to the exam room, where the dead soldier lay. I heard my brother draw in a sharp breath. I turned and grabbed his arm, squeezing his hand. “Who is it?” I whispered.
“Troubetsky,” he whispered back. “He and I have served together since we first started at the Corps.”
“Do you think Demidov killed him?” I whispered, not wanting to disturb the general. He was covering the dead soldier with a clean white sheet. His grandfather’s body was one of those that had disappeared from its tomb several weeks earlier.
Petya shrugged with an uneasy frown. “Why is this happening? Some of the men are saying the Order is cursed.”
I wished I could tell him. But it would be safer if he did not know.
The general glanced at my brother, who quickly snapped to attention.
“Commander Oldenburg, I want you to place your troops here in the hospital to guard this man’s body.”
“Yes, sir.” He efficiently dispatched two men to guard the front door of the hospital and two to patrol the grounds. Once everything was settled, he returned to Maman’s bedside. “Are you feeling better? Ready to go home?” he asked her.
“Of course, dear.” She enjoyed having everyone making a fuss over her, and it was during times like this that I suspected he was her favorite child. He always did what she expected of him. Unlike me.
Petya helped me and Maman into the carriage and refused to let the driver take us home alone. I was about to tell him everything I knew, but as soon as the carriage took off, my brother scowled at me.
“What on earth do you think you were doing back there?”
“What do you mean?” I asked innocently, glancing at Maman, who was quietly sniffling in her handkerchief.
My brother’s eyes narrowed. “You were meddling.”
“I was only trying to help. Does anyone rea
lly know what is going on?” I leaned closer to him and lowered my voice. “Someone, or something, is raising an army of undead soldiers to attack the other members of the Order. Your knights are destroying each other. Does your general have a plan to stop this?”
Petya frowned and stared out the carriage window. “No. We do not know how to stop them.”
I sat back, brooding. Who would know how to stop them? I knew there was nothing in A Necromancer’s Companion that could help. After I’d discovered the sheult spell with Dariya, curiosity had gotten the better of me. I had read the book with the strange Egyptian markings several times, looking for a way to help the count or a way to protect the remaining members of the Order. I had found nothing useful.
I reached over and covered my brother’s hand with my own. “Please be careful, Petya.”
He said nothing, but nodded. Maman sobbed softly.
That night the nightmares returned, more vivid and more horrible than before. Fires and women screaming. Young men dying. And so much blood.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Maman had taken to her bed upon returning from the hospital, and refused to leave her room the next day. Dariya and her stepmother, Countess Zina, paid a call and asked if I’d like to visit the Vladimirichi Palace with them. Maman had no objections. “Do give your aunt my love,” she said. “I simply cannot get rid of this headache.”
I remembered the sleeping drops Dr. Kruglevski had given me. He had told me to take a dropperful, so I knew it was perfectly safe for Maman as well. I left Maman sleeping comfortably and rode with my aunt and cousin in their carriage to see the grand duchess.
Dariya was furious with me when I told her the wedding was back on. “Are you mad?” she asked as we rode down the muddy streets of St. Petersburg. The snow was almost completely gone, and spring was just around the corner. “What did George Alexandrovich have to say about this?”
I felt a stab of pain in my chest as I thought of the tsar’s son. “He thinks I’m foolish, just as you do. But please believe me, Dariya. I have to uncover the Montenegrins’ secrets in order to protect the tsar.”
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