The trip to India was fairly uneventful, and from there we traveled on to Japan. We visited Kagoshima, Nagasaki, Kobe, and Kyoto, and on May 11, we went to Lake Biwa in Otsu.
The sun shone on the blue water, and the shore was white sand, along which an occasional tall tree with upwards-reaching branches could be seen. It was a very large lake; the water extended for as far out in the distance as you could see, with various small grass-covered islands dotting its surface.
George and I took our shoes and socks off and walked along the shore holding hands and letting the water lap at our feet. On the shore, Nicholas and Greek George sat engaged in conversation, while Rufus and Sadie watched us closely. True to his word, George hadn't so much as touched me, except to hold hands, since the conversation we'd had that morning in Egypt.
"I'm so glad I met you, Bonnie," he told me. "This journey wouldn't have been nearly as enjoyable otherwise."
"And I am glad as well." I blushed with pleasure. "Although I feel a bit sorry for your brother. He must be quite lonely."
"Yes, he misses Mathilde quite a bit."
"Who's Mathilde?"
"Mathilde Kschessinska, Imperial ballerina. He first met her several years ago, when he and Mama and Papa watched her dance in Swan Lake. She chased him like mad for about a year after that, but at the time, he had his heart set on marrying Alix of Hesse. He was devastated when she turned his proposal down. Mathilde was there to comfort him, and they began an affair. Mama and Papa were shocked and scandalized. It was part of the reason he was sent on this trip with me and our cousin."
"Do you suppose he'll resume the affair when you return to Russia?"
"When we return to Russia. I have no intention of abandoning you along the way." He laughed. "And yes, knowing Nicholas, he will return to Mathilde. She was his first lover, and the only one so far. My brother is very much a one-woman man, although they can never marry, of course, and besides..."
"Why can't they marry?"
"The heir to the throne is absolutely forbidden from marrying a commoner."
"And what about you?"
His eyes held a faraway look. "Perhaps we should head back," he said softly.
For the remainder of the visit to the lake, George discussed Japanese culture with his brother and cousin.
We were on our way back to Kyoto later in the day when it happened. Suddenly, one of the policemen escorting us swung his saber at Nicholas, cutting the right side of his forehead. He tried to swing again, but Greek George intercepted the blow with his cane, and the attacker ran away.
Nicholas' wound began to bleed profusely as the rickshaw drivers rushed us back to Kyoto, where we were all taken into the Kyoto Imperial Palace. "Is he going to be all right?" I asked George as soon as we were all settled.
"The doctors say he will be." I knew that he was very worried about his brother, and I wished that I could do something to make him feel better. Tentatively, I hugged him, and he pulled me to himself and held me tightly, not saying a word. It sounded as if he might be crying, but I couldn't be sure. We stood like that for a very long time.
If I hadn't been so distracted by my concern for George, I would have been overwhelmed at the novelty of spending the night in a palace for the first time. Outside, the gardens were charming, with cherry blossom trees and arch-shaped bridges suspended over trickling streams. Inside, the floor was made of large, identical marble squares side by side and arranged in multiple tiers, and the walls were decorated with numerous colorful paintings arranged in perfect symmetry and with black and gold borders.
That night, I dreamed about Hamilton for the first time in months. In my dream, I saw him laying there motionless on the ground after the accident, when suddenly it was no longer Hamilton's face I saw but that of Nicholas, lying there just as pale and still as Hamilton had. He was lying not on the grass but in what appeared to be the basement of a building, and there were several bullet wounds in his chest, not spurting blood as from a heart that was still beating, but oozing blood as from merely the effect of gravity. I awoke with my heart pounding madly. I never told George of the dream. I just couldn't.
We returned to Kobe the following day, where we spent a few days exploring warships in the harbor before journeying back to Russia.
George's family was waiting to greet him and Nicholas when we arrived. From the descriptions he'd given me, I recognized each family member right away: tall, broad-shouldered Tsar Alexander III, his petite, dark-haired wife, Tsarina Maria Feodorovna, beautiful, proud Xenia, young Michael, who looked to be about thirteen, and little Olga, who was a mere child.
Standing apart from the family and outside their range of vision, I immediately noticed a tiny, dark-haired woman who was obviously awaiting our arrival at least as eagerly as they. She was stunningly beautiful, her eyes dark pools of onyx, a proud tilt to her head.
I knew exactly who she was.