Zoya

“Then don't deny me the pleasure of doing it with you, madame.”

She smiled up at him, seeing him as a child again, in her heart anyway, where forever he would remain a small boy for as long as she lived. “Very well then, Konstantin. Good night, Zoya.”

“Good night, Grandmama. And thank you for keeping Sava for me.” The old woman gave her a fond kiss, and Zoya went upstairs to her mauve room as they went out into the cold night air. Zoya yawned to herself, and smiled as she thought of the little dog Marie and her mother had given her. It had been a lovely day. She softly closed her bedroom door, and promised herself she would return to Tsarskoe Selo in a day or two. But in the meantime, she would have to think of something wonderful to take to Mashka.

CHAPTER

3

Two days later, Zoya was planning to return to Tsarskoe Selo to see Marie, and instead a letter came that morning before breakfast. It was delivered by Dr. Fedorov himself, Alexis's doctor, who had come to town to bring back some more medicines, and he brought the unwelcome news that Marie had also succumbed to the measles. Zoya read her note with dismay. It meant not only that she could not visit her, but that they might not see each other for weeks, as Dr. Fedorov said that she would not be able to have visitors for quite some time, depending on how ill she became. Already, Anastasia was having trouble with her ears as a result of the disease, and he greatly feared that the Tsarevich was developing pneumonia.

“Oh, my God …” Natalya wailed. “And you've been exposed as well. Zoya, I had forbidden you to go and now you've exposed yourself … how could you do this to me? How dare you!” She was nearly hysterical at the thought of the illness Zoya might unwittingly have brought into the house, and Konstantin arrived on the scene in time to see his wife swoon, and he sent her maid rapidly upstairs for her vinaigrette. He had commissioned a special case for it by Fabergo, in the shape of a large red enamel, diamond encrusted strawberry, which she kept ever near her, by her bedside.

Dr. Fedorov was kind enough to stay long enough to see Natalya upstairs while Zoya dashed off a quick note to her friend. She wished her a speedy recovery so they could be together again, and signed it from herself and Sava, who had generously watered the famous Aubusson rug only the night before, but her grandmother had kept the puppy there anyway, while still threatening to turn her into soup if her manners did not improve very quickly.

“… I love you dearly, sweetest friend. Now hurry up and get well, so I can come and see you.” She sent her two books, one of them Helen's Babies, which she herself had read and loved only weeks before and had planned to give her anyway. And she added a quick postscript, warning Mashka not to use this as an excuse to cheat at tennis again, as they had both done the summer before, while playing at Livadia with two of Marie's sisters. It was their favorite game, and Marie was better than the rest of them, although Zoya always threatened to beat her.”… I will come out to see you as soon as your Mama and the doctor will let me. With all my heart, your loving Zoya….”

That afternoon, Zoya saw her brother again, which at least distracted her, and while waiting for their father to return home, he took her out for a spin in their mother's troika. She had not emerged from her room all day, so upset was she by the news that Marie had contracted measles and Zoya had been inadvertently exposed. Zoya knew she might not come out for days, and she was grateful for the distraction provided by her brother.

“Why have you come to see Papa again? Is something wrong, Nicolai?”

“Don't be silly. Why would you think something's wrong? What a twit you are.” But a smart one. He marveled at how she instinctively knew that he had returned to see Konstantin because he was worried. The previous day when the Duma convened, Alexander Kerensky had made a dreadful speech which included an incitement to assassinate the Tsar, and Nicolai was beginning to fear that some of what Ambassador Paléologue had said was true. Perhaps things were worse than they all knew and the people were more unnerved by the shortages than they all suspected. Sir George Buchanan, the British ambassador, had said as much too before leaving for Finland for a ten-day holiday. Nicolai was hearing a great deal these days and it worried him, and once again he was anxious to hear his father's opinion.

“You never come to visit unless something's wrong, Nicolai,” Zoya pressed him as they sped along the beautiful Nevsky Prospekt. There was fresh snow on the ground and it had never looked prettier than it did then, but Nicolai still staunchly insisted that nothing was amiss, and although she felt an odd twinge of fear, she decided to believe him.