As August approached, so did Alexandra's due date. The imperial family thus moved to Peterhof to wait for the baby's arrival.
During their stays at Peterhof, Nicholas and his family usually reside in a smaller palace known as the Lower Dacha, where both Maria and Anastasia were born.
The Lower Dacha looks more like a big cabin than a palace and is made of yellow and red bricks. It is far from the big Peterhof Palace and almost completely inaccessible to outsiders, but the main reason Nicholas and his family enjoy this stately home so much is its proximity to the sea.
The four little Grand Duchesses love swimming and playing in the water. Anastasia, in particular, adores the relative novelty of this pastime. Nicholas and Alexandra enjoy the view.
Their perfect safety is an illusion. A number of attempts on the Tsar's life, as well as the lives of his family members, have been made throughout the years. One of the first occurred during his trip to Japan. On the anniversary of that day, thanksgiving religious services are conducted all over Russia.
Just a few years ago, a plot against the lives of Nicholas, Alexandra, and their daughters was hatched. Fortunately, the scheme was frustrated by the police, but had it succeeded, the whole Imperial Court would have been dead and buried.
The grounds of Livadia are open to the public whenever the imperial family is away, so there was a priest in Yalta who used to stroll about among the vineyards and gardens. He was exceedingly kind, displaying tremendous curiosity regarding the familyʼs daily life. He suspiciously asked about the water supply and even penetrated into the wood cellar. One day, while he was walking around Livadia, the police entered his rooms and found many incriminating papers, explosives, and even poisons. The explosives were destined for the wood cellar, and the poison, for the water supply. The man was arrested and severely punished.
Another attempt was made sometime before the governess Margaretta Eagar even arrived in Russia. Just before divine service began at the little Tsarskoye Selo church, a soldier discovered a bomb hidden under a curtain behind the Tsar and Tsarina's spots. Had it exploded, hundreds of people would have been killed.
The culprit was a young man whose mother had been left a widow quite young with only him, a baby, in arms. She was almost penniless when a housemaid who worked at the palace heard of her and gave her some sewing to do in order to help her get by. Later on, the woman was also aided financially when she decided to start a workroom with apprentices.
She used to carry her baby in and out of the palaces, and as the boy grew older, he started to fetch things for her and thus became acquainted with all of the palaces. The guards would let him pass without trouble.
The young man was well educated and even attended a university where he became involved in a secret revolutionary society that benefited from his intimate knowledge of the palaces.
After the terrorist attack was successfully prevented, the young rebel was arrested. He confessed to his actions, but he refused to give the names of his accomplices. He was then sent to Siberia for life.
"My heart breaks for my son's baseness and ingratitude!" His mother cried upon learning of the incident. She died of shock that same day.
One of the most recent assassination attempts consisted of a seemingly harmless parcel sent to the Tsar. Nicholas received it while seated at tea with Alexandra. It was found to contain a piece of dirty cloth apparently cut from an old pair of trousers. "Just look at this!" Nicholas exclaimed in wonder at receiving such a curious thing, but Alexandra was not amused. She seized the dirty cloth and sent it away to be examined.
The curious gift was plagued with germs.
Oo
Nicholas and Alexandra keep everything from their daughters, wanting them to remain innocent and ignorant of the hatred so many people reserve for their family.
The girls haven't heard of any attempts on their lives. They are also ignorant of the recent strikes and demonstrations. The four little Grand Duchesses are playing with their cousins, the sons and daughter of their Aunt Xenia. Olga, Tatiana, Maria, and Anastasia are having picnics by the shore with them. They are playing tag, hide and seek, and rolling in the grass with Irina, her brothers, and Aunt Olga. The Tsar's youngest sister is stuck in a loveless marriage and copes by pouring all of her affection on her siblings, nieces, and nephews, around whom she laughs noisily and acts like yet another untamed grandchild Minnie strives to keep from ruining her clothes.
The Dowager Empress Maria Feodorovna is one of the most remarkable figures in the imperial family. The charm of her amazing personality has a magical impact on all who surround her. Despite her limited height, she can command any room, making it so there is no one else there except her. There is so much greatness in her manners that even the so-called "Empress Miechen" fails to live up to them, as there is a special kind of gentleness and kindness Minnie possesses that does not in any way diminish her dignified demeanor.
The secular, friendly, kind and extremely sociable Maria Feodorovna knows everything and everyone at court. She is constantly seen and loved by everyone, from the representatives of the highest sectors of society to the lower ranks of the cavalry regiment she is honorary chief of.
Since her husband died, Minnie has spent most of her time abroad visiting her relatives in Denmark, sometimes coming back to Russia with presents for her grandchildren. Her father Christian IX of Denmark is one of those relatives, and her sister Alexandra, Queen of the United Kingdom, is another. The two women are very close and visit their homeland often despite having lived apart for many years. They and their remaining brothers and sisters make for a very big and united family.
Maria Feodorovna is so cheerful and outgoing she could be happy anywhere. She loves her fashionable friends at the Russian Imperial Court, although she favors being around her family. There is a problem, however, with her one daughter-in-law, a problem Minnieʼs outgoing personality hasn't helped solve. Years have passed and Maria hasn't yet managed to convince her son's wife to be more mindful of society's perception of her.
Even before the war started, Alexandra had already stopped attempting to make friends with the nobility. She was no longer available for any considerable amount of events, assisting merely the most important, doing the bare minimum. It is not that Maria Feodorovna never becomes tired of those things once in a while, but she knows it is her obligation to be friendly, outgoing, and likable, to build long-lasting ties with the people, and she can't understand how the new Empress can be so grim as to view parties filled with beautiful gowns, music, and dancing as a burden or even just mere duty. Can't she see how privileged she is and how out-of-touch it is of her to complain about parties? Doesn't she enjoy dancing with Nicky? What Dagmar would give to have her precious Sasha back in her arms! What she wouldn't give to dance with him again!
The role of Empress may be more natural for her than for her daughter-in-law, as Minnie has always been sociable and still enjoys making new friends, but she has also had to make sacrifices. When her father-in-law was murdered, the happiest and most peaceful days of Maria Feodorovnaʼs life ended and she was cursed with having to fear for Alexanderʼs safety for the rest of his days, and later, for her sons'.
The day Dagmar received the news of the attempt against her baby boyʼs life during that dreadful expedition to Japan, she almost had a heart attack. She has lost two sons already and yet still understands how essential it was for her to give them away, how necessary it was to let them and her husband to fulfill their duties even when they interfered with her personal desire for a safer, happier, and more private family life, the life she had known as a child before her father's ascension to the throne as King of Denmark.
Minnie didn't always agree with her husband on everything, but in public, she would swallow her distinct views and be there to support Alexander despite the fact it had never been in her nature to hide her opinions before. Her job was to raise her husband and the monarchy up with her charms, to look presentable at the Imperial Court, to make everyone love her, and in consequence, them. The family.
She did more than that. Minnie helped her relatives and in-laws, acting as a mediator in letters before her husband, and later, her son. This with careful tact.
It would only be fair for the new Empress to stop thinking solely about herself in order to play her part as Minnie did before, but that is apparently too hard for Alexandra, who has a bit of a sanctimonious attitude in Minnieʼs opinion, one that still makes her quite unpopular. Alexandra is a fervent advocate of the divine right and believes that it is completely unnecessary to make an effort to secure the approval of the people.
During one of the most recent family trips to Crimea by train, hundreds of peasants wore their best clothes and waited overnight to see their Tsar and Tsarina. Nicholas went to the window and waved, but Alexandra refused to open the curtains or acknowledge the crowd. Dowager Empress Maria was furious when she learned of this, and even more so when she was made aware of Alexandraʼs reasoning. It seems her daughter-in-law thinks that the imperial family should be "above that sort of thing."
What does she mean? Above winning the people's affection? Above making them happy with one simple and effortless gesture? And yet, Maria Feodorovna thinks, how often does Alexandra complain about the publicʼs indifference toward her, blaming it all on her lack of sons.
Minnie is tired of trying to get her daughter-in-law to be more sociable or at the very least agreeable. Alexandra doesn't seem to want to listen. Sometimes, Minnie can't help but concede that the people at court who view Alexandra as a haughty woman have a good reason to.
Either way, Dagmar's concern for her son's wife does not in any way diminish the love she has for her granddaughters. Olga, Tatiana, Maria, and Anastasia are developing into charming young girls. Eight-year-old Olga is so charming and witty! Already knowledgeable in many subjects, she likes to talk to everyone about everything. All seems to indicate she will be different from her mother and Minnie is glad about that.
The Dowager Empress was surprised when she saw Tatiana again. The beautiful seven-year-old is growing so tall that she will probably catch up to her older sister in no time. She is so affectionate as well.
The five-year-old Maria has the most gorgeous blue eyes, and Minnie has never met a child with more personality than the three-year-old Anastasia, who has so much energy she is more like another grandson than a granddaughter. She greatly enjoys roughhousing with the boys.
Minnie has loved watching the four girls swim and play in the sand along with her other grandchildren, Irina, Andrei, Feodor, Nikita, Dmitri, and Rostislav. The Dowager Empress and her daughter Olga have both used their time in Peterhof to talk to the children and catch up with their lives.
Oh, but that little girl Anastasia has proved capable of bringing Minnie such joy! Nickyʼs youngest daughter jumps and laughs all the time and has even asked Minnie to play with her as if the middle-aged woman were a little girl capable of running as much as a youth. The girlʼs childish enthusiasm is so contagious Minnie obeys her at times.
The sweet, beautiful, and shy Irina may hold a special place in Minnieʼs heart for being her first-ever granddaughter, but Anastasia is not too far behind, if she even is behind.
Most adults find Anastasia easy to love. Grand Duke Michael, who is fond of all his siblingsʼ kids, is prone to forgiving and even finding charm in all of Anastasias mustache pulling, teasing, and innocent yet inadvertently indiscreet comments.
"Why aren't you married yet Mimi?" The little Anastasia suddenly asked her uncle once while the whole family was relaxing in the living room after dinner. Everyone had laughed except for Minnie, who was herself worried about that, and Michael, who was blushing furiously.
Playmates have a harder time with Anastasia, as even at three years old she is already uncommonly competitive and prone to biting and hair-pulling. The little girl is also extremely strong-willed and doesn't let anything or anyone spoil her fun.
Back in spring, the court nurses took the Grand Duchesses and some of their cousins to an orchard near the palace to pick some apples. As a reward, the girls were promised some baked apples with their tea. Once the baskets were full, the apples were sent to the palace and the children were taken off to listen to a military band.
While the band was playing, Anastasia unexpectedly produced an apple that she had hidden and promptly began to eat it. One of the nurses took it away from her and told her not to eat it yet, as it would make her ill. A few moments later, Anastasia produced another apple. "If you take this apple away from me I will scream", she said to the governess, "and then the people will think you are being wicked to me."
"Anastasia", replied the nanny, "be sure as you eat that apple, you will be punished when you get home." The little girl was not frightened by the threat and calmly proceeded to eat the apple, but when the children returned to the palace, she was put straight to bed. During tea time, all of the children were given baked apples to eat, but none were offered to Anastasia. The kids started teasing her by asking her if she did not want some of their delicious baked apples while holding them close to Anastasiaʼs face.
"No, indeed," the little girl would remark, "because you don't know how good that apple was that I had back in the garden."
The following day, Anastasia asked to be taken back to the orchard.
"Why do you want to be taken there again?" Miss Eagar inquired.
Anastasia threw her arms around her neck. "Because it was such fun eating that apple!" She joyfully replied.
One time, Miss Eagar got a product for the children's hair from England. She had started rubbing it into little Anastasia's head one evening when the child objected.
"It will make your hair grow nicely, darling," Miss Eagar coaxed the girl, who reluctantly submitted to her nannyʼs care. The next evening, when the governess went to get the product from the cupboard, Anastasia ran off into the room next door and returned dragging by its leg an awfully ugly old doll that lacked an eye, an arm, and most of its hair. She grabbed a little piece of sponge and began to rub the product into the creature's head.
Miss Eagar scolded her little charge, telling her she only could get the hair product from England and did not want it wasted. Anastasia looked at her governess most reproachfully. "My poor Vera!" She cried. "She has got no curls! This will make her hair grow!"
Margaretta couldn't refuse her pleas, so the little Anastasia got her way.
Speaking to Margaretta Eagar about the four little Grand Duchesses, someone said recently: "Olga has grace, wit, and good looks; Tatiana is a regular beauty; Marie is so sweet-natured, good and obliging, no one could help loving her; but little Anastasia has personal charm beyond any child I ever saw."
Margaretta does not think the visitor was wrong. His was a good description of the children as they may appear to a stranger, but there is a great deal more depth and strength of character in all of the children than often appears at first sight.
Anastasia may be a rough playmate, but the incredibly ugly Vera is her favorite toy, and she is loyal to that broken thing, often choosing it over her pretty new dolls when she plays with her sisters. Maria isn't just the kindest little girl anyone will ever meet, she is also good at telling stories. The ones she has been told and those she makes up herself whilst daydreaming. Tatiana shares almost all of Alexandra's virtues and defects, one of the latter being an extreme form of shyness that has made her unremarkable to most people.
All strangers notice Tatiana's beauty, some notice her perfect manners, but understandably few are aware of the genuine love and concern she has for people.
The nursery maids trust Margaretta Eagar enough to tell her about the men they fancy and whether they pay any attention to them in return or not. Being older than many of the other nurses, the protective Miss Eagar will often make inquiries about the character, temper, and position in life of these men. If satisfied with the aforementioned points, she makes no objection and allows the wooing to continue.
One of the under-nurses was married recently. She had served for seven years, having come to work at the palace straight from school at seventeen, so she was naturally attached to the little Grand Duchesses. When her last day came, she was in tears, and the children were distressed to see the young lady in such grief. Grand Duchess Tatiana assured the young nanny that she could stay if she liked, and when this didn't work, she went running straight to Miss Eagar and begged her not to send the nurse, called Tegla, away.
Miss Eagar explained that Tegla was free to stay if she wanted to, but that she had promised to marry Vladislav, her own wish, and would not like to break her word. Tatiana was immensely sad, but she immediately understood.
The other nurses organized a little party to celebrate Tegla before her departure, and the young fiancé was amongst the guests. When Tegla heard that he had arrived, her grief broke forth again and the children cried most bitterly. Little Tatiana Nikolaevna took a sheet of paper and a pencil in order to write with great difficulty a letter that can be summarized as reading: "Vladislav, be good with Tegla. Tatiana." She then placed this letter in an envelope and made sure it was sent to him.
When Margaretta Eagar visited the man sometime later to wish him happiness, he pulled the letter out of his pocket and with tears in his eyes begged the governess to thank the little Grand Duchess and to assure her that he would never forget to be good to Tegla. He always carries the letter with him.
Tegla has come to visit the little girls several times since her marriage and is very happy. Whenever she writes to them, she always sends a special message to Tatiana, saying that Vladislav is indeed very good to her.
"Well, I am glad", Tatiana always says, looking very pleased.
Miss Eagar often wonders what use her charges will make of all the talents God has entrusted them with, but she feels at ease knowing that the apple never falls very far from the tree. With such good parents, she is convinced, her dear little girls will never be led astray.
Oo
St. Petersburg, summer 1904.
Sophia Petrovna Malevsky-Malevich.
The war could not have been more inconvenient, and why did it have to happen now? Why now that I need cheering up the most?
The fashionable "Neva" salon is half-empty. Only two of the tables are occupied. It used to be crowded on days like these, Friday evenings. Dozens of officers in uniforms filled with medals would wander around the rooms before sitting and gambling. The high society ladies, dressed in low-cut gowns with lots of jewels, would flirt with them. The men, in turn, would buy them drinks and ask them to dance, only for the newly made couples to leave for somewhere private a few hours later.
I was one of those ladies. I still am, I suppose, but here I am, sitting alone at the bar with only the elderly bartender in front of me. At least I had a good time earlier. There are a few ladies sitting a few bar stools right from me, but my friends already left, and the officers who are not gambling are chatting with other women.
I am wearing a red dress embroidered with golden flowers. A fairly old dress, yes. I can't afford to spend as freely as I did before the war, but all things considered, I am as stunning as ever. As usual during days like these, I am not wearing my biggest diamond ring, the one Alexander gave me after our wedding, but my golden necklace makes up for it. My tempting shoulders are bare, and my beautiful red hair is up in a bun. Someone should have taken notice of me by now, and yet my friends were all approached first. Elizabeta looked particularly ridiculous today in that tight dress she wore. It no longer fits her, not that I would ever tell her that, although it would definitely serve her well.
I am fidgeting with my gloves. Perhaps the men around me can sense there is something troubling me and choose not to deal with that baggage… or maybe I am just reading too much into it. I sigh, knowing deep down that another escapade won't make me happy anyway, not right now. All I have are memories to comfort me.
My four handsome lovers have been soldiers and sailors from different ranks, but only now are they fully so, in every sense of the word. Any of them could be dead or wounded right now. I silently pray for them before I start feeling guilty, almost instantly, for doing so.
I am a terrible person. My husband hasn't changed. He is still the same kind man I met years ago, although I like him more now. He is a real friend despite the fact we have little in common. Without a care in the world, he allows me to host as many parties as I please in all and any of our residences, being blissfully oblivious to all of my affairs and flirtations. He never inquires further when I lie saying I will be staying with a friend. He even worries for me and my happiness, asking me if I had fun every time I return home from a party or outing.
Sometimes we stay up late talking about the silliest of things, mostly making fun of his business partners and people from the nobility. To make matters worse, Alexander is also faithful, as least as far as I can tell. How I pity him!
I get a familiar sensation that makes me forget my depressing thoughts, so I look behind me and am not surprised to find a handsome young man with blond hair staring at me from behind his cards.
Finally!
I finish what was left of my glass of champagne and raise my hand, giving the young man a half-smile as I wave at him gently, using only my fingers. He approaches, and I see his pretty baby blue eyes more clearly.
"Can I invite you a drink?" He asks. There is something tender about him. I can tell by his uniform that he is a junker, a junior officer who recently graduated from the Cadet Corps. The uniform is dark and simple, with golden epaulets and a long collar that covers most of his neck.
"I will be grateful for the drink love", I reply, "but with that face of yours, I would be happy with your company either way."
He nervously giggles like a child and I try very hard not to clench my teeth.
"How old are you, dear?" I ask. His smile disappears, his jaw drops, and his cheeks turn red.
"Um, sixteen?" He nervously admits, looking down at his shoes. It should not be that surprising, really. This one hasn't actually graduated yet.
Are the men in the salon getting younger, or am I just getting older? Are they simply dying? Either way, maybe, just maybe, I would have refused anyone tonight.
"Is this your first time here?" I inquire, smiling in order to soothe him.
"There was a bet," he doesn't even look up, "my friends are not here but… um…" Poor boy.
"Is he bothering you?" A different voice speaks before the young junker can recover from the embarrassment. It belongs to a man standing right behind me, almost close enough to be whispering in my ear, a man I know. No. It can't be. I cautiously leave my seat and then turn around just as slowly.
He is not wearing a uniform, but black cotton trousers, a white shirt with a bow tied to his neck, and an elegant black tailcoat. As soon as my suspicions are confirmed, I swing my arm and slap the scoundrel.
"Lily!" The man who once called himself Vladimir rubs his cheek.
"You!" I move closer to the shameless conman. "You… you… sneaky, low-life, criminal, thief! Horrid… liar!"
I point my index finger at him, walk closer, and start poking his chest with it as I continue spitting out accusations.
"Lily, Lily! Relax", Vladimir steps away and grabs my shoulders to hold me back. He may be frowning, but he doesn't look angry, only worried. Maybe a bit surprised as well, surprised by how quickly I turned against him.
Well, what did he expect? I truly want to know what he expected. How shameless of him! And yet somewhere within me, the nonsensical feelings I had for him when I was nothing but a stupid, naïve, and inexperienced girl are resurfacing. It must be his voice, his eyes, and the way he is staring at me right now… like he is both threatened and endeared by me or something. Keep yourself in check, Lily!
"Leave her alone!" The future junker moves towards Vladimir threateningly. He must be very confused. I suddenly remember we are in public, and looking around I am dismayed to see that the few people left in the bar are staring at us. I calmly untangle myself from Vladimirʼs arms and turn to face the boy, gently placing my extended palm on the young man's chest to keep him from potentially attacking my first lover.
I want someone to call the police, I want Vladimir punished for what he did to my father, but if I scream for attention now, he may not ever explain to me why he did what he did, whether I meant something to him… ugh, such sentimental nonsense! And thinking it through, I have no evidence against Vladimir but my word. He, on the other hand, has already covered his tracks, but most importantly, he knows something he could use against me.
I can't let him ruin what is left of my reputation. I have learned to risk it in a very careful and skillful way these past three years, but it is not in me to throw it all away in some silly emotional outburst.
"It is fine love", I calm the young student down while wearing the fakest of smiles. I then slap Vladimirʼs chest playfully. "This naughty, naughty gentleman over here had the nerve to cheat at a card game last week, you can't really blame me for being mad enough to cause a scene, can you?"
"Did that happen in this salon?" The naïve boy asks with genuine concern. "That is unacceptable! We can tell the owner, we can…"
"That will not be necessary dear", I immediately interrupt him.
"It won't be necessary because the lady is not telling the truth", Vladimir remarks with an annoying smirk that indicates he is more self confident than he deserves to be. The mere outrage causes me to momentarily break the act by giving him a death stare that conveniently lasts less than a second. "It was won fair and square, and I did warn her, I told her I was very good." Vladimir bursts into laughter as soon as he is done lying, probably to lighten the mood and get my chivalrous defender on his side.
"Oh please, mister!" I roll my eyes at him.
"You can call me Count Héndrikov", he corrects me with an evident air of superiority. Oh, so it is Héndrikov now. I raise my eyebrows.
"Well… Count Héndrikov", I put special emphasis on his fictional title, "will you excuse me for a moment?" I look at the student again, smile, and walk closer to him. "Tell your schoolboy friends", I whisper in his ear as I remove my left glove, "that we had a great time tonight."
I kiss his cheek before I hand him the glove. The boy smiles and blushes as he takes it. After staring at me in awe for a few seconds, seemingly trying to find the right words to thank me, he clumsily starts walking away backwards, not without running into a couple that had just left their table. I watch as he awkwardly apologizes and then finally returns to his own table. I truly hope his real first time is with someone he loves. Someone his age, not an experienced serial seducer in search for money.
"That was very nice of you", Vladimir teases me. Apparently, he stayed close enough to listen to what I had to say to the young man. I turn to stare at him up and down.
"Well", I tell the conman, "as you more than anyone may understand, inexperience is only a treasure in women. For men, it is an embarrassment."
He smiles, and I almost melt. I remember looking at that same smile for the first time, in vastly different circumstances. I won't let it distract me though.
"Vladimir", I say, "or whoever you are…"
"Vladimir indeed", he reveals in a playful tone. "I didn't lie about that, Countess Malevsky-Malevich."
"Well Vladimir… I have some questions, and if you don't want me to disappear right in this instant, you are going to answer them."
Vladimir smirks as he tilts his head towards a table.
Oo
Foolish me! I can't believe I am letting him do this again. As soon as we sit down, Vladimir becomes the one in charge, smooth-talking me into pouring my heart out again. He is just so… nice. We hadn't even reached the table when he started showering me with compliments.
"As gorgeous as ever", he said, among many other things, "maybe even more so."
"Stop it", I would reply, and he would then crack a joke about the alleged power I have over him. Utter nonsense. Whenever I try to learn more about his life, he derails the conversation to silly, over-the-top, and clearly made-up anecdotes about his time hunting lions in Africa or searching for the lost city of Atlantis on the shores of Ireland with a bunch of scientists of questionable credentials. He obviously expects me to find them very amusing.
I hate feeling so powerless, but at least it is a bit different this time. I have learned from my mistake. I keep my answers short whenever he starts digging for information, and I don't reveal anything compromising about my husbandʼs businesses or properties.
"How is Polina?" He asks after I mention my favorite niece.
"Doing well, she is six years old", I answer truthfully, and I fail to avoid smiling.
"Is she pampered?"
"I bought her a doll yesterday," I smile again. "I do that almost every month because, truth be told, I can't help myself. My niece loved it, but the funniest part is she is always surprised somehow, like she doesn't expect her aunt will keep buying her stuff that will prove to be useless in a few years."
I start chuckling and make the mistake of looking straight into his eyes for longer than necessary. There is that smile of his again, those cheeky brown eyes. He hasn't changed much since we last met.
"Does your brother-in-law still drag Bogdana to church every day?" He banters. "Does he still fail at not embarrassing your mother at family events?"
"More like every hour, and yes to the second question", I grin, "but you know Dana, it doesn't bother her… anyways, my two other nieces are Alina and Gala. My sister Bogdana gave birth to Gala just last month."
"And you, dear?" He inquires. "No children yet?"
"More than two years and nothing," I explain. "I appear to be barren."
"Oh, Lily!" Vladimir exclaims melodramatically. "Don't tell me that, your heart, your vivacity… you would have been a terrific mother." He pauses for a moment before taking my right hand in his. "It must be very hard." I immediately pull away.
"Stop it!" I snap, banging my left hand against the table. "I have talked enough about myself, but I know nothing about you, nothing! I have no idea who you are, how is that fair?"
He opens his mouth to speak, but I interrupt him:
"And being barren isn't hard, what you did to me was! I told you everything about me, I opened up and you gave back nothing, instead you, you… how could you? How could you do that to me, to my fathe…?" My voice breaks before I am able to finish the sentence.
"I am sorry Lily," he says softly, very softly, which only manages to annoy me for some reason. "I know my way of living hurts people sometimes…"
"Sometimes?" I stand up, appalled. "Sometimes?!" Now I understand why I find everything he does irritating. I had harbored some hope that he would be genuinely sorry for what he did.
"It is what I do!" He grabs my naked hand to stop me from leaving. "But I regret the fact our paths crossed the way they did."
"Let go!" I struggle to break free.
"I wish you had come", he says.
"What?" I stop moving and frown at him. "What are you talking about?"
"I asked you to meet me at Summer Garden in three days if you wanted to come with me to Paris, but you refused."
He did. The shock of his betrayal had almost made me forget, but I am not standing for his blatant attempt at diffusing the blame.
"And so you deceived my father? Was that some twisted form of revenge?" I ask, raising my voice. "I swear, Vladimir, if you think I will apologize for refusing to run away with you in only three days when you still promised to take me to Paris someday in the future and even gave me that fictional business card to contact you…"
"No, no, I don't expect an apology", he shakes his head and lets go of my hand, "please, Lily, we are in public."
I give him a death stare. There is nothing I would love more than blowing his new cover, but I decide against it. "Admit it," I murmur, walking closer to him and looking straight into his eyes, "you wouldn't have given up on your scheme, you wouldn't have taken me to Paris even if I had met you at that, that… stupid park!"
"Lily", he breathes deeply, and I can almost hear his thoughts. I could deduce his next excuse.
"You would have played with my feelings for a while longer and then tricked my father without an ounce of remorse."
He doesn't reply but simply looks down. A minute goes by, a minute during which we are both very silent.
"So you do admit it?" I ask in a hushed tone. More silence. It is clear now: I have to end this charade. "I will never forgive you for what you did." I storm out of the salon as fast as possible, but I can't keep Vladimir from following me.
It is dark, but the street lamps provide enough light to walk without getting lost. I stop and stand on the sidewalk, intending to wait for a carriage. Then I realize Vladimir is following me and change my mind. I start running. It is decided, I will walk until he gets tired of playing this stupid game.
"You said you knew nothing about me!" He yells behind me. I roll my eyes, slowing down nonetheless, after all, what can I lose? "You are right", I hear him say.
Is he going to tell me something about himself? I stop walking altogether, feeling far too curious. Vladimir approaches me.
"How do I know you won't turn me over if I give you my surname?" He mutters in a barely audible way. I turn around, and for the first time since I met him, I sense an air of vulnerability in the way he looks at me.
"You don't", I answer, "but lets be honest, would that ever stop you?" I give him a half-smile, a smile he returns.
"No", he admits, "it would not."
"Well…" I shrug. "There you have it."
"Popov, my real full name is Vladimir Igorovich Popov, but you can call me Vlad."
Oo
We spend the next hour walking by the Neva River, engaging in deep conversation just like we did the night we met. He finally tells me his life story, or at least what I hope really is his life story.
Born in a small Siberian village, Vladimir never met his father, as he died during an epidemic before he was even born just like his brothers and sisters. The mother died a few years later when Vlad was just six. I feel sorry for him upon hearing about this.
"My mother is the only woman I have ever loved", he claims, "other than… maybe you, dear."
He stares at me seductively, half smiling. Not falling for the adulation, I roll my eyes and pretty much order him to continue telling the story. Vlad is a sophisticated liar. I have never held power over him, but the more he lets out, the more I forget.
Turns out Vlad didn't have any close relatives, but he had a few distant cousins. The five lads were a bunch of nomad thieves with no lands and little property of their own. They traveled on carts through different towns and villages begging, stealing, and selling handmade items every now and then. Baskets and such.
It seems to me those rascals took Vlad in only because they thought a young child his age would be more successful than them at eliciting sympathy.
"They weren't very nice to me," Vladimir remembers, "but what can I say? I had food and shelter, and soon enough I learned to look out for myself."
It is very distressing to think about, but sure he did. He became a master at manipulation, sometimes using fake crutches and stories to maximize his earnings. He begged, something those wretched boys forced him to do. Whenever Vlad brought back less money than usual, his cousins would surely beat him.
Once Vlad grew a bit too old to inspire a ton of pity among the townsfolk, the young men allowed him to join them in their acts of banditry. One day, however, the youthful delinquents made the terrible mistake of joining a larger criminal gang made up of cunning adults looking out only for themselves. Vlad and his cousins were given weapons and then made to participate in a train robbery that went really, really badly.
Vlad and his cousins had unfortunately been set up to be caught. Being quite young, Vladimir was not punished as harshly as his relatives were and was simply taken to an orphanage. He was sixteen by the time he left.
"It was ultimately for the best", Vlad says. "I learned to read and write, and I later spent three years working in the fields for a rich peasant family."
After that, Vladimir moved to St. Petersburg hoping to become a hotel clerk, but his old lifestyle was too hard to leave behind.
"For the first time in my life, I witnessed firsthand what true wealth was and I wanted a piece", he explains. "So I observed. As a small child I had learned to observe the mannerisms and behaviors of the people I encountered in order to imitate them, to act out what I suspected they wanted from me, but only then did I become a master at it."
"So one day a count stayed at the hotel and you decided to try your luck?" I tease him.
"Not exactly", he chuckles. "Before I got to the point where I felt confident enough to do that, I simply learned to behave the right way, the way that would ensure the greatest tips."
"Well, isn't that harmless?" I ask sarcastically. "What turned you into a monster?"
"Not so harmless, rose", he smirks, "you wouldn't know how many lovely women I met in that hotel."
I raise an eyebrow at him.
"Although none as lovely as you", he adds with a slight bow. "As to what turned me into a monster as you so unkindly say, well, you could say Afasy Denisovich, art forger, and my dear mentor." He finishes with the biggest grin on his face.
Vladimir learned a lot from him, and soon enough he wasn't only selling fake paintings but also scamming tourists, stealing identities, and selling fake documents. Most recently, Vlad has become a semi-regular member of Grand Duchess Maria Pavlovnaʼs court. It makes me slightly jealous to think he may even get invited to her events far more often than I am.
"And where is Afasy now?" I ask. "Do you still see him?"
It would not have surprised me if they had had a falling out over who gets what percentage for each of their cons or whatever.
"The man was already old when I met him, he passed away a long time ago", Vladimir looks down. "He was the closest thing to a father I ever had."
He slows down, sighs, and looks at the river. I too stare at the horizon. We stop strolling and stand side by side without touching. Seems to me that Afasy really meant a lot to him.
"I lost my father recently", I feel safe enough to confess, for Vlad has poured his heart out or at least some of it, he has done what I have required of him. "Less than a year ago, a heart attack… I hadn't gone out alone without my husband in months."
Vladimir sighs. "Lily…" he begins. "What I said earlier…"
"I know."
"I meant it, I hurt people, it is what I do, but I really do regret that our paths happened to cross."
"But you don't regret your actions?" I cross my arms while not-so-secretly judging him.
"And I do like you", he dodges the question. "I liked you since the moment I saw you, my most exquisite rose…"
He takes my hand, the one still covered by the glove, and starts caressing it. "You were not only the prettiest", he continues. "But the friendliest little social butterfly in the ball, no other girl seemed so at ease …"
I am about to pull away when my pride consumes me. It is consuming me, and now I only want to hear what he has to say, just a little bit... but I can't let him know that, so I turn my face away and haughtily raise my chin up, pretending to be having none of it.
"And the way you danced so gracefully", he dares to kiss my hand.
"Oh, how silly you are", I place my opposite forearm over my forehead in an admittedly melodramatic manner, but I don't get any response from him, so I stare at him intensely and add: "Oh, what nonsense were you trying to make me believe?"
And it works, he proceeds with the flattering by telling me that the day we met, the way I gently guided him to dance melted his heart. By the time he is done sweet-talking to me, I am holding on to his arm as we walk side by side. I am also horrified to realize I have been unwittingly batting my eyelashes excessively and caressing my own face dramatically. And Vladimir, he is staring at me with that half-smile I know too well, our sign. I know what he wants, but the loss of my father still stings.
"Stop doing that", I tell him.
"Doing what?" He asks in a deceivingly innocent-sounding tone.
"That half-smile!" I untangle my arm from his. "It is our sign, but I can't do anything tonight, Vlad, you know I can't and you probably know why."
"That smile is our sign?" He gasps exaggeratedly. "But why, dear? That is way too subtle, any smile directed at you could be our sign and you know that I can't help but smile when I see you." He grabs my cheeks gently as he finishes that last sentence, but I play hard to get and pull away.
"But what should our sign be if not a half-smile?" I ask.
Vlad places his right hand on his chest and starts wiggling his fingers. I immediately burst into laughter.
"What?" He stops moving his fingers and stares at me with false shock. "You didn't like that one? How about this one?" He pinches the lower side of his earlobe and starts frantically moving it back and forward. Lastly, he rubs the tip of his right fingers through his forehead.
By the time Vlad stops coming up with wild ideas for our sign, I am laughing so hard I can barely breathe.
After an hour of shameless and exaggerated flirting that is interrupted only by Vlad's jokes, he and I keep chatting. Our conversation is less depressing this time. Less depressing in the sense that it is about someone else's problem, but less depressing nonetheless.
I hear about the murder of Vyacheslav Konstantinovich von Plehve, the Minister of Interior, for the first time. He was killed by a socialist terrorist group not even a week ago, but I didn't know about it. A bomb was thrown into his horse-drawn carriage.
I am too dumbfounded to speak.
"Oh, yes," Vlad insists when he takes notice of my reaction. "How is it that you didn't know already? It is all over the newspapers! And your hundreds of fancy high society friends? What is it that you talk about with them?"
I am instantly annoyed by his blatantly condescending tone.
"Clothes, Vladimir," I answer harshly, turning away from him, "clothes, jewels, and gossip, is that what you wanted to hear?"
"Oh don't be mad dear", he comes from behind and gently takes hold of my shoulders.
"Why should I care about any of that?" I turn around and face him. "It affects me in no way."
"But dear, don't you know? If the socialists ever took over the country, you would certainly lose everything you hold dear".
"Is that so?" I cross my arms. "Well, the police will handle all those bomb-throwing savages, socialists or otherwise."
"Oh… well dear, I wouldn't call them savages, don't get me wrong, it would be incredibly inconvenient for me if any of them... succeded, so to speak, a bit more than anticipated, but they have good motives. I have traveled, there are many freedoms we don't have in Russia that some other nations take for granted…"
"Since when do you know so much about socialists?"
"I know all sorts of people", he states confidently, with a fire in his eyes that makes him look all the more attractive. I remember what he has revealed to me about his illegal activities and connect the dots. Revolutionaries must be in need of his fake papers more than any other group of people, and Vladimir seems to take great pride in being able to get away with anything. A match made in hell.
"Well," I touch his shoulders seductively while pretending to be doing so with the sole purpose of wiping off some dust. "I will have you know, Vladimir, that I know people as well."
"You do?" He encourages me to continue with a smile.
"One of my English friends, Alice, you remember Alice, right?"
He nods, and I continue:
"Alice told me that one time, a fairly well-educated Russian woman, one of those who absolutely adores making a fuss about everything, you know, not so much, but a bit like my sister is… or was, you know the story of my sister, right?"
Vlad nods again, and I feel a bit silly for asking. Of course he knows, I told him almost everything about me.
"Well," I proceed, "a woman of little less education than my sister Evgeniya was talking to my British friend about the alleged lack of freedom in Russia. Alice told her that she would have little more of it in England than she already did here and that everywhere people needed to work for a living, keep the laws, and follow them. This fuss maker was greatly amazed and asked Alice if they had laws in England. When Alice explained that they do and that just like in Russia, people who break them speedily find themselves in prison, the Russian woman was greatly amazed. 'Prisons in free England!' She exclaimed, and she then went on to ask what was forbidden to people in England, becoming increasingly amazed when given a list of examples. In the end, she thanked Alice and told her she would no longer meet with those trouble-making groups at her university who had been telling her she was only a slave."
Oo
Vlad invites me to the restaurant of the hotel he is staying at. It is fairly elegant, and the wine is excellent. I order caviar and stroganoff, a dish of sautéed pieces of beef served in a sauce with sour cream. He orders the same thing.
As we have dinner, Vlad tells me truly interesting things about his adventures. He really is well-traveled. Alexander and I have only been to Europe. France, England, and Switzerland primarily, but Vlad's lifestyle has taken him as far as Asia, where he has also ruined the lives of dozens of unsuspecting innocents, I presume.
We talk about Paris a lot, as we both love the city. The art, the architecture, so similar to that of St. Petersburg, and the fact it is the capital of fashion. He tells me about his cons as well. Fake art, fake jewels, and fake businesses. He told me, straight to my face, that he trusts me to keep his secrets because he knows who my husband is. There is no end to his lack of shame.
After he describes to me the cultural differences between Japan and Russia, the conversation inevitably shifts to the current war.
"All the officers had told me that if there ever was a war with Japan, it would not be necessary to fire a single shot," I remember, "that all they had to do was throw their caps at the Japanese and then those monkeys would be running. Guess they were wrong."
"Wrong indeed", Vlad agrees, "we underestimated our enemy, the Japanese are very disciplined, and I don't think it is going to be easy to continue supplying our large army with the trans-Siberian railroad still incomplete."
"But surely you can't be so pessimist!" I exclaim. "No Asian nation has ever defeated a European power, never! Russia can't be the first to suffer such humiliation."
Vlad shrugs.
"It can't", I insist. "Can it?"
"We will have to see" is his only reply. He quickly changes the subject. "At least we have the Tsar's uncle, Grand Duke Alexei Alexandrovich, as our admiral!"
"Oh, don't remind me! All the officers say he is known for fast women and slow ships only!"
"He probably knows more about jewels and undergarments than anything useful", Vlad chuckles.
We move on to gossip about Cyril and Boris, two of the sons of Grand Duke Vladimir and his wife Miechen. They are both in the navy, although Cyril's battleship was blown up just this April and the Grand Duke barely escaped with his life. He has since been invalidated out of service due to his burns and back injuries.
"That way he has more time for his Victoria", I grin. Everyone knows Cyril is in love with the ex-wife of the Tsarina's brother.
"And Boris can have the rest", Vlad playfully adds, referring to Boris's womanizing ways.
"Well, it is even said in the "Neva" salon that Boris has a bastard son dropped somewhere in France."
"I bet", Vlad says. "Speaking of sons, the Empress is pregnant again, did you hear?"
"I heard, I hope for the sake of Russia it is a boy, otherwise it will be pretty much confirmed that the German woman can't do anything right."
"Don't worry dear", Vlad murmurs with a grin, signaling me to come closer. "I heard from a good source it is going to be a boy."
"A good source?" I ask, skeptically and without even bothering to lower my tone of voice. This can't be anything serious.
"A little peasant fortuneteller told me", Vladimir confirms my suspicions.
"Oh dear, those sorts of things have never attracted my attention. Many of my friends have asked me to assist those spiritualist sessions with them, and I have. They are fun, but I genuinely find them nonsensical."
"No Lily, trust me, she was different. I found her selling flowers and handmade embroidered shirts and garments in Moscow. Just a little girl, no older than ten, her name was Doroteya."
"It is strange you remember her name," I raise my eyebrows. "I believe your so-called profession must make forgetting names a requirement at times so as not to allow any feelings of empathy to get in the way."
"Oh! Who do you take me for?" He exclaims in feigned outrage. I roll my eyes playfully.
"Come on, it must make things easier", I tease him.
"It sure does", he chuckles.
"So I will take your word for it, this little girl told you the future."
"She just seemed genuine in her excitement", he shrugs.
"I do pity her now though…" I sigh.
"The little peasant seer?"
"No, Vlad, the Empress."
"Oh, yes, the poor Empress, how could I have forgotten?" Vlad jests. "How will she stand all that nasty criticism? All she has are those yachts and palaces for comfort." He starts laughing.
"It is genuinely out of her control," I point out, ignoring him. "The only difference is I never cared much for having children of my own, not when I have my nieces that is. My poor father is dead, so he will never know of my failure to save the family name, and it is almost a joy to disappoint my mother, so... whatever, but the Empress…"
"Things haven't changed between you and your mother, huh?"
"They haven't", I shake my head and look down. "And our relationship only deteriorated after my wedding."
We have a small chat about my mother. She doesn't know about any of my affairs, but that is fine, for there are endless other flaws she can nitpick about me, of course, including my childlessness. The fact I can't hide my irritation towards her helps us in no way, so we have barely spoken these past few years.
Since my father died, mama has been sending me countless letters asking for us to meet again, mentioning how miserable she feels. I haven't answered any of them. She has Bogdana either way, it is not like she can't get by. And yet, how I wish that I didn't have all of those embarrassing dreams and fantasies about making her proud!
I decide to change the subject when the pastries arrive. I don't want to talk about that woman while eating dessert, it will only sour the experience.
"I agree the Empress is a prude", I casually bring up the subject again, "and I haven't forgotten what she did to me, but I can't help but sympathize with her situation. With the war going on she must be under a lot of pressure to give the country good news, and all that work she is doing to support the war effort must be a terrible bore. It has been hard for everyone." I sigh.
"It has been hard for you, dear?" He asks with a tone of incredulity.
"Well of course", I answer nonchalantly, but then, after about half a minute, I become aware of Vladimir's mocking expression.
He doesn't understand, of course he doesn't. His life was particularly hard until fairly recently, and so he thinks this gives him the right to mock those of us who have always had vastly different problems.
"I feel poor, all right?!" I exclaim. "Is it really that hard to believe? Before the war, I could spend as much as I pleased on clothes, jewels, furniture, Fabergé eggs for my friends, and… well, that is it, now I can't, happy?! My husband and I have to finance all those stupid hospitals, as well as my sister Bognana's silly pet charities for the war orphans. Even my ladies-in-waiting sense my distress. Last week, the party I hosted didn't last as long as they usually do because we could only afford the musicians for six hours, and the way things are going I don't know what is going to happen to my annual folk dance winter party, I need lots of dancers, do you see what I am going thro…?"
The sound of Vlad's laughter makes me lose my train of thought.
"What?!" I snap. "Why are you laughing Vlad?"
"Poor girl!" Vlad exclaims, gently caressing my chin. "My beautiful rose can't afford her fancy orchestra for more than six hours a week!"
He keeps laughing.
"It is not funny!" I slap his hand away from my face. "The only reason I married Alexander is so that I wouldn't have to feel sorry for wanting a good life."
"Well dear, why don't you tell your husband that?"
"I am not going to complain out loud about feeling morally obligated to donate money, not when good men are offering their lives for our nation, are you kidding me?"
"And yet you do complain out loud, to me, it seems you still trust me."
"Oh, shut up", I roll my eyes. "My closest friends know, you are not that special."
"You are a nice woman, Lily", he says with apparent sincerity, but I look down, sighing. I know myself better. I have never been as good as papa would have wanted me to be, as he thought I was.
"For doing the bare minimum?" I ask.
He raises his hands as if surrendering, and I chuckle. We stay silent for a while during which he stuffs his face with pastries.
"And you?" I inquire when he finishes chewing. "Are you doing anything for our nation during these trying times? Or does your lack of convictions remain present during wartime?"
"I think you know the answer to that", he replies without an ounce of shame as he wipes his face with a handkerchief.
"Don't you worry you may be called for service?" I use my own handkerchief to wipe off some whipped cream from his trimmed beard, a beard that wasn't there before. I liked him with a simple twirled mustache, but I must admit this new look of his is growing on me.
"Don't worry about me, flower, I learned how to dodge military service a long time ago, I have my ways."
"Of course you did", I scoff, leaving the handkerchief on the table. I am appalled, but also completely unsurprised. He can change his identity as easily as he does clothes... or grows facial hair.
"So, how come I haven't seen you at Miechen's parties?" He asks.
"I prefer those of the Dowager Empress, so maybe that is why we haven't coincided", I say. "Minnie is much classier."
Truth be told, I barely know the Dowager Empress, and I have only assisted some of her balls, so I really shouldn't be calling her that, but a friend introduced her to me one time.
Maria Feodorovna was nice, fun, and attentive, so I hope that in time, we can form something resembling a friendship. I just don't want Vlad to think that he has or even deserves a greater number of prestigious friends than I do. He is a fraud for God's sake!
"Grand Duchess Maria Pavlova has a great sense of humor though, you are surely missing a lot", Vlad argues. "The stories she tells are gold. Back in 1894, only a few weeks after the Tsar's death, she couldn't help herself and tried to drag a very displeased Grand Duke Konstantin Konstantinovich to dance, period of mourning be damned!"
I can't help but burst into laughter at the dark humor, and neither can Vladimir.
"Oh, how loyal of the duke to refuse", I laugh.
"I am serious", he insists, grinning. "It really happened."
"To be honest, Vlad, I suspect that a certain snake, my so-called friend Elizabeta, has been feeding Miechen gossip of some sort, gossip about me, because it has been a while since I was last invited to any of her events. I don't mind as much because I have plenty of my own, not to mention the fact I have dozens of friends who invite me to their own balls, but still, it hurts a little bit, and more so the fact Elizabeta is becoming cold and distant when we used to be such good friends…"
Oo
"I am not going along with your sneaky plan Vlad", I repeat again and again for what seems like the tenth time.
Vlad has been offering to investigate what Elizabeta is up to in order to make sure I am back in Miechen's good graces. He will do so by infiltrating Elizabeta's friend group and befriending her, but I suspect he will be using any means necessary, some of which may definitely arouse my jealousy.
I am about to protest again when he kisses me, chastely, then passionately. I stop thinking and kiss him back. He had been moving his chair closer without me noticing.
Vlad is just so warm, so attractive and familiar.
"Can you warm my hand?" I ask him, referring to my left hand, the one without the glove.
"But it is summer dear", he answers softly. When I stare at him longingly in response, Vladimir starts caressing my hand, then kissing it, and then slowly moving and kissing all the way up to my lips until we are kissing passionately again.
Oh, how I missed him! No man has ever made me feel this way. I may even love him, and I think deep down, despite everything, he loves me as well.
"All right", I concede once the kiss is over, leaning on his shoulder. "I accept your help."
Vlad does behave like a gentleman in the end, accepting my refusal to spend the night with him and stopping a carriage for me, but before that, he dares to ask me to meet him at Summer Garden tomorrow evening so that we can arrange a little escapade to Peterhof. I could not believe my ears and refused, until he kissed me one more time that is.
"Go to Summer Garden and try your luck, maybe I will indeed be there", I finally said.
I have a lot of time to think during my ride back home. Maybe I am too cynical, but I have listened to Vladimir rave about cheating people left and right without an ounce of regret all while doing nothing to support the war effort, after forging his way out of any possible form of recruitment no less. This has made me feel a bit better about myself.
At least I have patronized plenty of hospitals and even visited the wounded on one occasion. I couldn't stomach it, sure, but I try to do my best with what I have. What I have is money.
I am a saint compared to Vladimir! I chuckle at the thought. An adulterous saint indeed.
And I hate myself for it, truly… but to be honest, I am meeting him at Summer Garden this time. I want to see Vladimir Popov again, and I want us to go to Peterhof together for a week at least. It would do wonders for my pride and overall happiness.
Sorry for the long wait again, there was a strike in my university so my semester got condensed into a short-yet-hard-and-homework-filled one lol.
I also had writers block, which always happens when I am stressed, which also makes me procrastinate on things, so thank you, university, you have completely drained me.
Once again, Margaretta Eagars memoirs were very helpful. I dont know for certain whether the girls saw their grandmother, aunts and cousins that summer, but it is a fact they saw each other once in a while, so for the sake of the story, they were all together in Peterhof for a small time in the summer of 1904.