The Gathering Storm (15 page)

Dariya linked her arm with mine, saying in a low voice, “Really, Katiya! What were you thinking? Elena’s brother!”

I sighed. “He’s so much nicer than she is.” I caught myself searching the crowd for him. I couldn’t help wondering who he was dancing with now. Was she prettier than I?

“Elena poisoned me!” Dariya whispered. “And Aurora and who knows how many others at Smolny. Now she wants her brother to get to know you? What do you think her motives are?”

I shrugged, but I promised my cousin that I would be more careful around Elena and her handsome brother. Aurora accepted the hand of a Serbian prince for the next dance, so Dariya and I went in search of refreshments. We ran into my mother and the grand duchess Miechen.

Maman did not look happy. “Please do not cause a scandal tonight, Katiya. Princess Radziwill and the rest of the gossips are already talking about you and that young man. Two dances? Really!” She shook her ebony-handled fan in agitation.

The grand duchess said nothing but looked down her nose at me with her violet-blue eyes. I was certain she already knew my mysterious partner’s identity. She probably also knew whatever it was his family wanted from me.

With a heavy sigh, I decided to be prudent and dance with as many different eligible bachelors as I could the rest of the evening. Unfortunately, none of them were terribly ugly. Or terribly poor.

When it was time for dinner, I was not at the same table as my parents but seated instead with my older cousins the grand dukes Nicholas and Peter Nikolayevich, and the princess Cantacuzene. Elena was the only other young person seated with us.

“Whoever made the seating arrangements should be exiled to Siberia,” Elena said, pouting. She gazed longingly at the imperial table several times as the tsarevitch frequently laughed at his brother’s jokes. George Alexandrovich, I noticed, never looked my way once throughout dinner. The grand duchess Elizabeth and her husband were seated at the same table as Tsar Alexander and his wife. The grand duchess’s father and brother were seated at the same table as my parents and Petya. Dariya was seated with them also and laughed as she spoke with the Hessian prince. She looked up at me and gave me a little wave.

I told Elena to hush; our fate could be much worse. At the table next to us sat at least seven elderly dames, all shouting and grumbling loudly because they could not hear each other speaking.

Elena rolled her eyes but kept her peace.

The meal was delicious, served by men in crisp black liveries. Even the china was a formal mourning pattern, with a wide black band around the imperial crest. Elena was silent through most of the meal, as was I, for we were not seated next to each other and had little to say to the older grand dukes.

Princess Cantacuzene fussed over her vegetables and complained that her meat was overcooked. She was favorably impressed with the dessert course, however, and tried to eat the grand duke Nicholas Nikolayevich’s sorbet when she had finished her own. I sighed, thinking she truly was senile. I decided to ignore her dire warnings about the handsome crown prince of Montenegro.

Elena and I were grateful to escape when we saw the tsar and the empress stand at their own table. With relief, we hurried back toward the ballroom.

“So what do you think of my brother?” Elena said. She had been bursting to ask me this all night.

I could feel my cheeks growing hot. “I think he is very nice. I am glad he came to the ball tonight.”

Elena laughed. “He thinks you are very nice too.”

I cannot explain the way my heart made a funny little jump when she said that. Perhaps I was having a palpitation? I placed my hand over my chest to calm it down. “Will he be staying in St. Petersburg long?” I asked her.

“At least for the next month. He is going to visit our sister Zorka and her family in Geneva at the end of February.”

The orchestra began to play again, and I danced the rest of the night with young officers in Petya’s regiment. They were all very handsome and very respectful, but none danced quite as well as my first partner. By the end of the evening, my skirt had several tears where their spurs had caught the hem. Elena complained that her dress shared a similar fate.

I remembered my promise to Petya and danced the last dance with him. Despite his protests, he had overcome his reluctance and had danced with several beautiful princesses
and countesses. It did not appear as if any young lady had caught his eye, though.

“Your heir of Montenegro seems to be meeting with your approval after all?” he said, nodding toward the crown prince, who was dancing with his sister Militza.

I blushed. “Perhaps I was too hasty to judge him without meeting him first.” But it was as if a fog had lifted once I was away from the crown prince. He did not seem quite so irresistible anymore. “He is handsome enough. But I don’t trust him or his family,” I whispered. “Princess Cantacuzene said they are blood drinkers. Vampires.”

Petya laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. She is a senile old woman with a wild imagination.”

I glanced around the room, startled to see the elderly princess staring straight at us—as if she could hear my brother and me talking in the middle of the dancing crowds.

“I’ve heard nothing about him, good or ill, but I can’t say the same for his sisters,” Petya went on. “Perhaps you should stay away from that whole family.”

“Elena was the one who poisoned Dariya. I’m sure of it.”

My brother looked at me in surprise. “You have proof?”

I shook my head. “Of course not,” I said. “She’s too clever for that.”

“Then leave it alone. Elena is the daughter of a king. All the more reason you should not be encouraging the crown prince’s attentions.”

“I wasn’t!” I protested. But I saw that Petya was only half serious, and I pretended to pout. “Maman will be so disappointed. I am sure she is already planning my wedding to the crown prince.”

Petya rolled his eyes. “She has been plotting your wedding since before you were born.”

“Before I was born? With whom?”

My brother’s grin was wicked. “The Archduke of Bohemia.”

“The prince who is always digging in his ear with his pinky finger?” I asked, cringing. I was glad I’d heard no mention of this growing up.

As the ball ended, I did not see the prince Danilo but found myself a little sad he had not bid me good night. Petya and I found our parents and we slowly followed the crowds down the long grand staircase outside to wait for our carriage.
Le Bal Noir
had been an amazing success, and now the full moon shone brightly across the snow-covered streets, casting a ghostly light.

“Your Highnesses,” Princess Militza said as she bowed to my parents. The Montenegrins were standing behind us as they waited for their own carriage. I saw Elena smile and wondered how they had managed to push their way through the crowd.

I introduced my parents and my brother to the crown prince, and my mother hurried to invite him and his sisters over to the house for tea the next week. Petya was polite but cool as he shook Prince Danilo’s hand, as was my father. I was thankful no one would notice my blush even in the bright moonlight. A huge full moon had risen high in the clear winter night sky.

Papa did not seem to be impressed one way or the other with the Montenegrins as we chatted, but on the ride home he spoke up. “I hope that young scoundrel does not expect you to live in Montenegro if you marry him,” he said.

“Papa!” My voice, to my dismay, was much higher than normal. “No one has said a word about me marrying the crown prince.” I settled back into my seat, wrapping my cloak tighter around me. “Besides, I would never leave the two of you, even if I married the Prince of Wales.”

My brother snorted at that. He quickly regained his composure as Maman shot him a look that we both could see, even in the dim carriage.

“Let’s not be too hasty,” Maman warned my father. “I hear Cetinje is a beautiful city.”

“I just wanted to make my feelings known on the matter,” Papa said gruffly.

I patted his hand. “Do not worry about such things, Papa. It will never happen.”

As we made our way down the Palace Embankment, the horses reared, and the carriage shuddered and stopped.

“Good heavens!” Maman said, crossing herself. “What is wrong with those beasts?”

Petya stuck his head out to speak with the driver. He agreed to get out and help calm the horses. As I looked out my window, I saw a silver blur streaking past. “A fox!” I said.

Papa leaned over. “Too big. It looks like a wolf. No wonder the horses are spooked.”

It was a beautiful creature, whatever it was, running across the frozen city at midnight.

What surprised me most was the creature’s cold light, trailing behind it. I’d never seen an animal with a cold light before.

“B
alls, balls, balls! I am sick to death of balls!” I let out a large breath as Anya helped me undo my dress and corset and freed me from the elegant torture device. “Much better,” I said with a deep sigh. I could finally breathe again.

I had attended three balls in the past two weeks, not to mention a ballet and an opera. I was exhausted. I had an essay on Pushkin due first thing Monday morning, as well as a chemistry test, and I had not studied for it yet. And the winter social season still had two months to go.

“Anya, I’m going to move to Siberia and live in a hut!” I was lying on my bed at home, staring up at the ornate gilded plasterwork on the ceiling. No more balls for me.

“I thought you wanted to be a doctor, Duchess,” Anya said, carefully folding my ball gown away. “What about medical school?”

“No medical school in Russia will admit a woman,” I said.
“But I could go to Paris. Or Switzerland.” I sat up. “Anya, let’s run away together.”

She shook her head, her eyes wide. “Oh, no, Duchess. We’d get whipped by your father, for sure. Maybe you could marry a doctor and help him out in his office?”

“I don’t think I could ever be happy just being a man’s helper. And I doubt any suitable husband Maman picks out for me would be the progressive sort who would allow me to attend medical school. No, I think I must run away.”

I was only half serious, knowing it would throw Anya into fits. Still, I did worry that my dream might never come true. To enter the University of Zurich’s program, one had to prove proficiency in Latin and Greek. I had doubled my efforts in my Latin studies. Madame Orbellani had also found a beginner’s Greek textbook for me. It was more difficult than Latin, but I was struggling through it. I was determined to succeed.

I’d seen the handsome prince Danilo and his sisters several times over the past weeks, dancing with him often at the balls. He had been a perfect gentleman and did not act like a blood-drinking vampire at all.

I mentioned the prince to Princess Cantacuzene when Maman and I were invited to a small dinner party—“small” meaning only one hundred or so guests—at the Vladimir Palace. All members of the Dark Court, of course.

“He has not reached the age of his ascension yet,” the
princess Cantacuzene told me. “When does he turn eighteen?”