PART II
Chapter IV
Boris flinched as the sunlight hit his eyes, colouring the wor red behind his eyelids. He opened both eyes, and as he did so the first thought of many came to his mind: Katya. He had to see her. He needed to see her. And without further ado, he got up, dressed very carefully and paid particular attention to his appearance. He had no time for breakfast as he strode out the door, complete with scarf, hat, and coat. He decided he would walk just to be unseen by Zubin and Popov. The last thing he needed was those two trailing him. It was a brisk twenty minute walk, but Boris was so excited and warmed by the thought of Katya that he did not notice the frigid cold that morning. He nodded his head in recognition to the guards that stood outside nearly every door (one can assume that the guards paid no attention to Boris for he was dressed in such finery) except the entrance to the servants quarters on the south wing. Boris got to the door and pulled it open. The corridor was deserted. Not a single prson in sight. Boris went in and turned his head to look left when who should he encounter but Anya Gala, carrying a fresh basket of laundry. She dropped her load at the sight of him and made a deep curtsy as her mother had taught her. "S-sir?" she ventured timidly. "I'm looking for Katya Donkova. Have you seen her?" he asked the girl. "S-she will take no callers today, your Grace," she stammered. "Is she alright?" asked Boris. "I...I...I am unsure," said Anya and she looked around to make sure there was no one aroud and that there was no one coming. "She went missing last night. Mama found her in a corridor not far from here,". "I see," said Boris. "Could you take me to her...please?" he added as an afterthought--he was concerned for Katya's wellbeing. Anya nodded her consent.
They walked along together--Anya leading the nobleman--in silence through the now rapidly-filling corridor. Maids whispered as they passed, and footmen stared rather impolitely. Finally, after a few minutes of walking and turns around corners, they arrived at Gala's office. Anya knocked and they heard scurried footsteps on the other side of the white washed door. Gala peered at them through her wide spectacles which perched on the bridge of her nose. "Anya!" she hissed quietly, "I said she would not take any callers! She is ill and wishes to be left alone!" and with that, Gala closed the door and left the mismatched pair staring at the door that the head maid has just peeked out of.
They stood in front of the door for several seconds. Then Anya did something that was not characteristically Anya--she defied her mother's orders. "Come with me," said Anya, suddenly being struck by an idea. "I don't care what my mother says. I'm taking you to her,". Boris complied and followed Anya up a winding staircase. They arrived at the same wooden door that Anya had come through last night. "She is in there," said Anya, who pointed to the door. Boris thanked her and gently pushed the door. It would not budge. Boris rattled the handle. "Here, I have a key," said Anya, who's voice made Boris jump--he had assumed she left. Anya tried the key and heard the heavy scrape of the mechanisms in gear. Anya knocked. No reply. "Katya? Katya? You have a caller--a gentleman," said Anya quietly.
Inside, Katya heard the rasp of knuckles. Katya's eyes flew open at the sound and heard Anya's muffled voice from outside. A gentleman--it must be Boris. Katya put on her dressing gown as soon as she could grapple her way out of bed and looked at her reflection in the mirror--she looked alright in her opinion, considering the events of the previous evening. She did not dare look at the candles that had so mysteriously come to light themselves the night before. Katya put on a respectful face and poked her head out the door. Boris politely averted his eyes. He had never seen a woman clad in such a way. "Excuse me, I cannot be of any service. Please call on me tomorrow. Thank you." Katya nodded her head respectfully and closed the door. Katya locked it for good measure.