Robin Bridges - The Gathering Storm

“Wedding plans?” I felt a sickening, cold wave of apprehension wash over me.

“Of course. I know how young people are these days. So much in love and in such a hurry to start their lives together.” She looked directly at me.

“I am not allowed to wed before my birthday. I believe my father made that clear.”

The queen shook her head dismissively. “Nonsense. I was fourteen when I married my first husband. Fifteen when I had my first child. You must marry my son and bear him the heirs that he needs while you are young and fertile.”

“Heirs?” I asked faintly. The room seemed to spin.

“Strong sons and plenty of daughters. Heirs to spread our dynasty across Europe. When Elena marries the tsarevitch, her children can marry your children.”

“But they would be first cousins. The Church forbids such marriages.” Of all the thoughts flitting through my head at once, that was what came out of my mouth first.

The queen waved her arms. “The Serbian Church will grant a dispensation for our dynasty.”

I could not think of anything to say to her. The woman was mad. “Your Majesty, what if the tsarevitch marries someone else?”

“You mean the German bitch?” She laughed. “Yes, I know all about that one. She is a Protestant and is not willing to change her religion for her precious Nicholas. Besides, there is the little problem of her supernatural … affliction. The tsar and his empress cannot possibly agree to such an alliance. The tsar looks favorably upon our dynasty. Did he not say Nikola was Russia’s one true friend?”

I knew nothing of Princess Alix’s affliction, but everything else the queen said was true. The tsar still considered King Nikola and his wife close allies. Maman had told me he had been quick to approve my engagement to Danilo. I did not see how he could remain fond of the Montenegrins when he discovered they had released Konstantin. “How can you know so much about the Hessian princess?” I asked.

“I have spies everywhere, Duchess.” She stopped stirring her spoon in her teacup. “I even know of your flirtations with the tsarevitch’s brother.”

“Flirtations?” I sputtered nervously. “Your spies must be mistaken. There is no affection between me and the grand duke.” At least, not on his side.

“You are now bound to my son by your blood, and soon you will be bound to him by holy matrimony,” the queen said as she continued to stir her tea. “I warn you, Katerina Alexandrovna, if you want your family to remain safe from Konstantin and the Dekebristi, you will do exactly as I say and begin to act the part of the happy bride-to-be. I will see Militza and Stana happily married before the tsar learns of Konstantin. The Dekebristi will pledge their loyalty to Militza rather than the lich tsar. And Alexander Alexandrovich will owe his life to us.”

I could not stand it anymore. I was tired of feeling helpless. And tired of my loved ones’ safety not being in my own hands. I was still frightened for them, but I was also furious. “Your Majesty, you have no way of protecting my family from Konstantin, and you have no reason to believe the Dekebristi will follow your daughter instead of their old master. You cannot force me to keep your secrets anymore.” I was shaking all over, but I did not lower my gaze. “And you cannot force me to marry your son.”

The queen did not look in the least shocked at my outburst. She smiled. “Dear Katerina, I believe your mother feels quite differently.” She turned and opened the parlor doors behind her, beyond which my mother stood—with Petya and Uncle George.

Maman rushed to embrace me. I wanted to cry with relief when I smelled her familiar Paris cologne. “Katiya! Why did you run off so foolishly? We came as quickly as we heard. The king and queen have been most kind.”

I did not know what my mother had been told, but I was ready to leave for St. Petersburg immediately. “We can leave tonight,” I told her. “I have nothing to pack.”

“Mon Dieu, no! We are here to celebrate the crown prince’s birthday. The king has promised to show us around the city himself.”

“No, Maman,” I begged, looking from her to my brother. “The tsar is in danger. We must return home and warn him.”

The queen laughed. “Dear Katerina. Do not trouble your family with such things. It is time for dinner. Come.”

We had no choice but to follow her. Queen Milena took my mother’s arm and discussed the paintings we passed in the hallway. As quietly as I could, I told Petya about everything. Yes, everything.

My brother was horrified. “Katiya, you should have told me! I would have protected you!”

“How? They told me you would become one of the undead as well. I couldn’t let that happen.”

“Where did you learn this terrible power? At Smolny? Papa should never have let Maman talk him into sending you to that school.”

“Smolny is not to blame. I think I was born with this curse.” I reached out and grabbed his hands. “You must warn the tsar, Petya. Can you get away tonight?”

“And leave you and Maman in the blood drinkers’ clutches? The palace is surrounded by guards. We will all leave together in the morning.”

“Are you sure they will allow us to go?” I asked.

Petya thought silently as we approached the dining room. “We mustn’t tell Maman. Not before we get her safely away from here. She would become hysterical.”

“When is she not hysterical?” I asked glumly.

“You’re right,” Petya said. “Surely at some point tonight, she’ll get upset over some nonsense. We will then tell the Montenegrins that Maman is ill and we must take her back home to her own doctor.”

I knew it would not take much for Maman to have one of her hysterical fits. Telling her about the Vladiki would definitely serve such a purpose. But I also knew that if the Montenegrins discovered I’d told anyone about the Black Mountain ritual, my family would be killed. Petya I could trust to keep silent. Maman I could not.

We enjoyed more local cuisine that night at dinner. Uncle George was happy to discuss military matters with King Nikola and Princess Zorka’s husband.

Young, romantic Anna did not take her eyes off my brother the entire evening. And Danilo never took his eyes off me.

Everyone was excruciatingly polite. My nerves were on edge as I waited for something horrible to happen.

Maman complimented the queen on her beautiful palace. “The grand duchess Miechen has a boudoir decorated in the Moroccan style, very similar to this,” she said.

“Does she indeed?” the queen replied, sipping her soup.

The women discussed wedding plans for Militza and Stana. “Now let us discuss plans for Danilo and Katerina’s wedding,” Queen Milena said as the servants served us glasses of sherry.

Maman did not smile. “I believe this has already been settled. We will not allow Katerina to marry before she is of age.”

“Perhaps you may change your mind if your daughter was found to be in a delicate situation.”

Maman’s face grew white with shock as she realized what the queen was implying. “Katiya, what have you done?”

“Nothing, Maman,” I protested. At least, not what she suspected. I felt violated all the same.

The queen laughed. “It could happen, Duchess. They are young and their passions are hot. It has been difficult for my husband and me to keep this pair apart.”

I shuddered with disgust.

But the queen’s suggestion did frighten my mother. I could almost hear her thoughts.

“I … well …”

“Maman, you know I would never do anything to disappoint you or Papa.…” Besides raising the dead, that is.

“I must speak with my husband.” Maman’s glass of sherry trembled slightly as she raised it to her lips.