9
"An interesting read, Your Highness?" asked Padre Ansaldi, opening the door and finding Katyusha busy staring intently at a map sprawled open upon the table.
The Grand Duchess did not answer, however, too busy thinking about something, so the priest walked up to see more closely, discovering that the aforementioned map showed almost entirely the western borders of the Empire, from the Solovetsky Islands to the Bosphorus, from the Urals to Wien.
Only when her tutor's shadow partly dimmed the sunlight Katyusha noticed that she was no longer alone, and she was so concentrated that she almost jumped up.
"Padre Ansaldi! Do you wish to scare me to death?"
"Actually, I did announce my arrival. But you didn't hear me. I did not imagine that a map could be so enrapturing."
"You arrive just in time. Perhaps in here you are the only one who can discuss something like this satisfactorily, and willing to talk to me about it."
"You should know me by now. I am always at your disposal."
Katyusha then opened one of her many trunks for her toys, fishing for a bunch of tin soldiers snatched from her brothers during the years; then, like a general about to ponder the path of a campaign, she began to place them upon the map and to form various armies, even though to do that she was forced to get up on a stool.
"I guess you are aware that my country is currently at war with several foreign powers."
"It would be difficult not to, especially in these times." the priest joked, taking hold of a tin Russian rifleman. "Your Father is spending literal rivers of money to finance this campaign. He must consider it very important."
"That's the point. I thought hard on it, and as much as I could I tried to understand what he and his generals may be thinking." Then Katyusha pointed at a place in the Crimean peninsula, starting to shuffle on it the most part of the Russian soldiers. "As of now, what is paramount for my father is holding Sevastopol, where he is trying to send over almost all of our army."
"That is understandable. Sevastopol is the pivot of the Imperial military operations in the Black Sea and the Mediterranean. The Russian sphere of influence in Southeast Europe and his desire of conquest against the Ottomans go through that city."
Katyusha drew a breath, almost as if she needed a great deal of courage to say whatever came next, even on her part.
"My father is a fool. As well as his commanders."
"Wha... What!?" stammered Ansaldi, who had come very close to a stroke.
"Von Clausewitz said so very clearly. When you thrust all the hopes of a campaign upon a single point, sometimes you just need a single battle afterwards for it to settle the score for the whole war. That may be well and good for who is on the offensive, but for the defender it's a most wrong choice."
"On the other hand, however, Your Imperial Father cannot afford to lose Sevastopol, or worse, the whole of Crimea. It is clear that he is holding on to it with everything he has."
"In that case, instead of just sending troops upon troops, he'd better worry on shifting our enemies' attentions away from there. Broaden our fronts."
"But how?"
The Grand Duchess walked around the table, pointing at the very north edge of the map.
"The British military operations in the North have been very sparse. They contented themselves in attacking our fortresses in the Baltic and the Solovetsky. Threatening in some way the British control on the North Sea through careful missions of the Baltic Fleet in Norway and Finland and regain the lost territories may be a good way to divert the British attention, at least partly."
"But by doing so wouldn't one risk drawing into the conflict the Kingdom of Sweden, or worse still, Prussia?"
"True that. That is a risk that we can't run as of now." Then, In lieu of walking around anymore, Katyusha grabbed a stick, pointing it at the western borders. "Making an enemy of Prussia would mean to expose the northern part of our borders in too dangerous of a way, as they are already thinly defended."
The ease with which the Grand Duchess was talking, the coolness and competence with which she expounded her own conclusions, left Padre Ansaldi speechless; for a moment, he wondered whether it was a foreigner, in the body of his own pupil.
"Thinking to reinforce the front on the eastern side of the Black Sea is a questionable choice, too, considering that we couldn't count on any support from the fleet trapped at Sevastopol."
At that, like a tiger aiming for its prey, Katyusha stoically indicated the opposite side of the sea, leaving her tutor once more grasping for words.
"This is where we'd need to focus."
"Wallachia?!"
"Both Varna and Constanta are excellent ports, close to the Danube and easily defensible, even though they are close to the Ottoman borders. By occupying them, we'd guarantee for our Empire the southern outlet to the sea that we need. It's basically what our enemies are trying to avoid. This would force them, obviously, to broaden the front as well. And at that point, considering the logistical and supply difficulties that they'd end up facing, the tide of the war might be swinging in our favor in a very short time."
"But those territories as of now are formally under Austrian rule."
"It's only a front. Austria is just playing the role of a guarantor. Up until a short time ago, those were Ottoman lands, and it was my father's attempts at claiming them that caused this war. Then, I say, we should end what we have begun."
"But, attacking those lands once more would mean forcing the Empire to face yet another conflict with Austria, which would end up bolstering the tanks of your enemies."
"Wien has other issues to face right now. Prussia in the north and the Kingdom of Sardinia in the south are very much a threat right on their borders, and internally they're still handling the consequences of the independence revolts erupted six years ago, and still brewing. Right now they can't chance another war."
"But without a war, how could these territories be reclaimed?"
"With the only thing that, as of now, is more efficient than bullets. With money."
"What?!"
"All the conflicts that Austria has been dragging around in these decades have left her more and more short on finances, while Russia has plenty of it. If we were to offer to acquire those territories from Austria, I am more than ready to bet that with a few negotiations and a few concessions here and there it wouldn't be difficult to reach an agreement.
Worst-case scenario, we could even give them a free hand in the hinterland of Moldova and Wallachia. In the end, what we need is the outlet on the Black Sea."
At last, Padre Ansaldi had managed to get accustomed to being left speechless by her pupil, but each time she dragged him further and further along.
To be honest, he was sure he had never seen such a thing: could that little girl be right? Could she really be another person, deep into a dream, whose real nature was coming to the fore?
Upon hearing the news, the Tsar slammed his fist on the armrest so harshly that it shook his throne.
"What does it mean, murdered?" he bellowed at his new Captain of the Guard.
"I regret to have to report this, Your Majesty." said Yerematev, his head kept low. "Unfortunately, the body of Mr. Parson has been found this morning in his own study."
"And is it possible to know what in the world happened?"
"We are currently investigating, Your Majesty. What I can tell you so far is that his whole residence has been trashed, and that his three American bodyguards as well as his staff were killed, too. At the moment, the most likely explanation is that a band of thugs did it."
"I don't want suppositions! I want facts!" ranted the sovereign, his neck's veins bulging and visible through the skin. "Do you know how important that man was for us?"
"I... I am aware of that, Your Majesty." the young Captain stammered, still unused to the occasional outbursts of the emperor. "The whole police force is working on the case. You have my word that we'll soon have a conclusion to this."
"I want the culprits, whoever they are. And I want their heads on a platter for the end of this month."
"You shall have them. Upon my word."
"Now get out."
"Yes, Your Majesty. As you wish."
Walking backwards, and carefully avoiding with his gaze the angry one of the monarch, the Captain reached the opposite end of the salon. The guards opened the door, and as soon as young Yerematev had disappeared, the steward announced the next guest.
"The envoy of the Kingdom of Württemberg, Captain Loehner!"
Before the Tsar came then another young officer, his expression austere, worthy of a proper soldier, ice-cold eyes and with long light-brown hair, tied in a knot as used by the high German nobility; he wore the renowned black uniform of the Württemberg officers, crowned by a steel breastplate embroidered in tin.
"Your Majesty." he said, making a solemn bow. "I bring before you the homage and the best wishes of my liege, His Majesty Wilhelm, King of Württemberg."
"Welcome, Captain Loehner. I must say that your missive in which you announced your imminent arrival left me rather surprised. To be truthful, we awaited you next month."
"Unfortunately, the situation is becoming rather confusing in central Europe. The ongoing conflict between the Empire and the Western Powers has pushed several nations to reinforce their garrisons along the borders. We were afraid to meet trouble if we had awaited any longer."
"You have done very well. And you don't have to worry, you will have all the dispatches and passes that you might need. You will be back in the lovely Stuttgart before the end of Fall."
"You have my deepest thanks, Your Majesty. But I trust, if I may say so, that the solemnity of the guest we will be honored to escort will be more than enough a guarantee for an easy and trouble-free voyage."
"You are correct, but it is better to be prudent. These times, it looks like the crowds in Europe have forgotten the respect due to Royals and their families."
"I can guarantee you that my liege and his son, Prince Karl, are well aware of the honor that His Majesty trusted upon them, and they shall not forgot that."
"I regret to ask you such a thing, even though I guess the difficulties you met in your voyage. I must ask you, nonetheless, to go back to Stuttgart now. Tomorrow, if possible. I do not wish for dithering to cause any more problems."
"Whatever you wish, Your Majesty. I and my men are ready as of now."
"In this case, I shall bring word to my consort right now. I imagine that she will want to take her leave from my daughter before she departs.
For now, the palace will be open for you and your men.
You may go."
"You have my thanks, Your Majesty."
The next morning, taking advantage of a sunny day, Katyusha decided to try out a small experiment that she had been secretly busy with for many days and weeks.
Nothing about battles or stuff like that, for once.
But something likewise out of the world, if that could be said.
One evening, looking for a good read before bedtime, she had by chance ended up with a volume on the life of Leonardo, and one thing had caught her eye: that weird contraption looking like an enormous seagull that, as the author had stated, was meant to give humankind one day the ability to fly.
To fly.
It was probably the single thing most likely to create a spark in the fantasy of any human being on Earth.
She had no intention to try and take that thing out for a spin, by jumping off the roof; but she could try and build a scale model.
With the help of some of the palace's carpenters, she had built the wooden frame, covering it with a light tissue scavenged here and there, making it look like a giant kite for a Carnival fair.
And now, everything was ready for a test.
Of course there was no way that it could happen without a crew, as Katyusha's dream was to eventually allow a person to fly, and one day, who knew, herself. To be chosen for this historical task was poor Piotr, the tiny white kitten that Nina and her friend Aina lovingly cared for together with the other maids.
To not traumatize more than necessary the poor thing, a small box-shaped cage was specially crafted for him, with air holes, but this was far from enough to assuage Nina.
"Your Highness..." she asked, holding tight her small pet. "Are you really sure that it will work?"
"Don't worry, nothing will happen to him. Don't you see? We even put some padding into it, you can rest easy."
"But, if you put that in, doesn't that mean that you aren't that sure..."
"Don't get started with semantics, now!"
Nina was far from convinced, but she was in no position to refuse, of course.
So, after having given him a look like one to be given a close relative about to die, the maid put her kitten in the cage, which was immediately closed and attached to the kite with a few hooks.
The contraption was so big and bulky that two guards were needed to hoist it up onto the balcony's banister.
"Here we go!" Katyusha declared, running to hold onto the wire. "If everything goes according to plan, I promise to offer tea and biscuits to everyone!"
"What does that mean, 'if'?" Nina shrieked. "My kitten!"
Too late.
"Launch!"
As soon as it was let go, the kite went straight for the ground, and a certain crash. But at the last second, with the help of a benign air flow, it bounced back up all of a sudden, and Katyusha had barely the time to let go of some more wire, to allow her creation to soar like a bird, under the disbelieving eyes of the maids, the guards and all the other witnesses.
"Yes! It works!"
The contraption flew for some two hundred meters, coming to a gentle stop just a few steps away from the red walls of the Kremlin. Nina, as scared as few times in her life, ran to open the cage, and to everyone's shock found a completely healthy Piotr, just a bit winded.
"I told you I could make it!"
To see the Grand Duchess so relaxed and happy, after so many grey and gloomy days, was enough for Nonna to break into a pleased smile, even though into her eyes a bit of wistfulness was dancing, as if she were making an effort to hide something from her charge.
"Did you see, Nonna? Did you see?"
"You have done exceedingly well, Your Highness."
"And this is just the beginning. I promise you that I will be able to make you fly one day! No, we shall fly together!"
Katyusha was still very much bragging for her experiment's success, when an unusual sound of trumpets got her attention.
"The farewell salute?" she quipped, puzzled. "I did not know we had guests in the palace."
Nobody answered, but the Grand Duchess took just a moment to notice that whatever was in Nonna's eyes was now in everyone's eyes.
"What is happening?"
"Your Highness..."
"Nonna, would you mind telling me?"
"I am sorry, Your Highness. Your Imperial Father had done it, he had explicitly forbidden us to tell you."
"Tell me what?"
"The Grand Duchedd Olga." Aina then said. "She has been promised to the Prince of Württemberg."
"What did you say?!"
At that, it took just a few moments to understand.
"You're telling me that... You have to be kidding me!"
That said she ran away, leaving her experiment and anything else behind.
The guards, guessing where she was going, attempted to stop her, but to no avail, and when the princess reached the main entrance she saw her beloved older sister about to get onto a coach adorned with the Royal ensigns of Württemberg, under the reassuring eye of a youngster in a suit of armour, the sad gaze of their mother and that, emotionless, of their father.
"Sister!"
"What is she doing here?" said the Tsar, irritated. "I had ordered..."
"Our deepest apologies, Your Majesty. We tried."
The Tsarina was quick to grab onto her daughter by the shoulders, but, any reverential fear thrown to the dogs, she furiously struggled free, running into Olga's arms.
"Sister! I don't wish for you to go away!" she cried, in a way that could make a heart break to pieces.
"I must, Katyusha. It is my duty."
"To hell with duty! I want to stay with you! It's not fair!"
"Control yourself, Ekaterina!" her father thundered.
Olga smiled, tracing with a finger the red and tear-streaked cheeks of her beloved little sister, and allowing her, despite the gloves she was wearing, to make her feel the warmth of her hands.
"Don't let anything get you down, Katyusha. No matter how hard. Be yourself. For better or for worse."
"Sister..."
That said, slowly but surely, Olga let go of the hug, and under the almost dead gaze of Katyusha climbed upon the coach.
Katyusha remained immobile, almost unable to understand what was happening; it was only when the coach moved towards the gates that she understood that this was no dream, but by then the Tsar had personally taken charge of the situation, closing his mighty hands around her tiny forearms.
"Olishka!"