The Gathering Storm
CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 Robin Bridges

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Whatever dark magic Elena had worked during the night, if it had involved the ball, it appeared to have been successful. For the next morning, everyone at Smolny knew that there would still be an Anichkov Ball. Empress Marie Feodorovna insisted that it not be canceled, but that everyone come dressed in proper mourning attire-all black. Women were not to wear colored gems, but only diamonds and pearls. Elena was ecstatic. Her sisters brought a seamstress by that afternoon to take her measurements for a proper black ball gown.
My mother also sent for me and brought me to the house, where her favorite dressmaker could fit us both. With her dark coloring, a black gown would look dramatic on her. Maman could not wear her beloved ruby tiara, but she had a delicate diamond one from Cartier that was just as lovely.
My dress was short sleeved and off the shoulders, with jet beading and black lace across the bodice. Maman called me to her boudoir on the evening of the ball and gave me a pair of my grandmother's diamond earrings to wear.
"These will draw attention up toward your eyes," she said. "Grandmaman Marie would be so proud of you."
"For what?"
Maman sighed. I knew it gave her grief when I did not act as excited about glamorous occasions as she expected. I did not see how dressing up like a painted doll was an accomplishment to be proud of. Would my grandmother have been proud of me if I had discovered a cure for consumption? Or would she have preferred me to look pretty and decorate the arm of a husband with a title?
I shrugged. I was certain I knew the answer to that question. And it wasn't an answer I liked. "They are beautiful, Maman," I said to appease her. I spun around a few times before sitting down to have my hair done. The dress truly was stunning, even though it did make me look paler than normal.
Papa and my brother were both attired in their finest regiment blacks.
Petya was still sad about the death of Count Chermenensky, and the mourning wear he sported, a black silk armband against his dress uniform, had deeper meaning to him than any of ours did to us.
I wanted to cheer Petya up, so I promised I would find him a partner at the ball.
He gave me a wistful smile. "There is no one I would dance with tonight.
Besides you, my dear sister."
"You shal have it," I said, disappointed that I could not lighten his spirits.
We rode to Anichkov Palace in the black Oldenburg carriage. It was drawn by four spirited black horses that looked as if they'd driven straight out of hell. The night was icy cold, even with the hot-water bottles in our laps, the fur-lined coach rugs, and the warmed bricks at our feet. The streets were crowded, as most of St. Petersburg was on its way to the ball.
"I don't want you stashing yourself away with your Smolny friends tonight," Maman said. "I want to see you dancing with lots of handsome young princes and grand dukes."
I rolled my eyes and stared out the window at the snow-covered city. I resolved to dance with the ugliest and the poorest men in the ball room-if they should ask me.
Our carriage approached the northern entrance of the palace, where the nobles were to arrive. There were four separate entrances to the palace, one for the princes, one for the other court ranks, one for the officers, and one for the civil servants. The gates of the palace were draped in heavy black crepe, as were the marble corridors leading inside. Even the candelabras along the walls and the chandeliers were swathed in black gauze.
Papa took Maman's arm, and my brother took mine. We slowly proceeded up the enormous marble staircase behind other noble families, waiting to be announced by the dance master. I noticed the Cantacuzene family being introduced. "Isn't the princess looking lovely and spry tonight?" Maman whispered. "She looks younger than she did before Christmas. I wonder what medicinals she takes."
Seeing the princess made me realize I was not wearing her ring that evening. The black stone would have gone well with my gown, but I'd left it in my trinket box at Smolny. I hoped the princess would not ask me about it.
When it was my family's turn, we stopped at the entrance to the grand ball room. The master of ceremonies banged his large wooden baton against the floor as he stood in front of the archway and announced us to the crowd.
"Prince Alexander Friedrich Constantine von Holstein-Gottorp, Duke of Oldenburg; his honorable wife, Princess Yevgenia Maximilianovna von Leuchtenberg; his son, Duke Peter Alexandrovich von Holstein-Gottorp; and his daughter, Duchess Katerina Alexandrovna von Holstein-Gottorp." It sounded impressive, but we were far from the most illustrious of families present that night. Very, very far. I was able to claim Catherine the Great as my great-great-great-grandmother, but so could hundreds of others present. Even Princess Elena, the fifth daughter of a minor sovereign, outranked me.
Elena and her two ebony-clad sisters pounced on me immediately.
"Katerina!" Elena said breathlessly. "There is someone we want you to meet!" The Montenegrins' dark coloring looked beautiful against their black gowns. The elder princesses wore jet beaded kokoshniks, but Elena wore her hair up simply, with a few flirtatious curls cascading down the back.
My stomach twisted into knots as she grabbed my arm. I suddenly remembered Elena telling me her brother had come to St. Petersburg for the season. I tried to smile. I would not let them see my fear.
"Danilo, may I present the duchess Katerina of Oldenburg? Katerina, this is my brother Prince Danilo." She placed my gloved hand into his.
"I am charmed," the young man said.
Mon Dieu, he looked more dashing than his portrait. His smile was dazzling. It took my breath away. He had an instant pull on me. I could feel the attraction that his good looks and something more stirred in my heart.
Then I remembered my nightmares of chanting and blood, and stiffened my resolve. I would not be so easily charmed, I hoped.
I curtsied. "As am I, Your Highness." Despite my determination, I felt a little bit dizzy as he touched my hand to his lips. Every bone in that hand tingled. Every carpal. Every metacarpal. Right down to the tips of every phalanx. It must have been the heat of the room. I fanned myself just to get some air.
"Would you do me the honor of the first dance?" the prince asked. His eyes gleamed under the brilliant candlelight, and my pulse took off racing as he looked at me.
"Of course," I said without stopping to think. I smiled, then saw the princess Cantacuzene staring at me across the ball room. She looked very concerned. But I couldn't believe that Danilo was the heir of the Vladiki, or that he was the dangerous prince she believed I must kill.
"Come with us," Elena said as she grabbed her brother with one arm and me with her other. "We must find the best spot on the dancing floor.
We want everyone to see us!"
"Do you have a partner for the first dance?" I asked her. "If not, I am sure my brother would be honored-"
Elena shook her head and let go of both of us. "Do not worry about me! I have the most handsome partner here tonight, besides Danilo, of course!" Danilo smiled again, showing perfect white teeth. There were no fangs, I noticed. But would he not grow fangs until his ... ascension, as the princess Cantacuzene called it? It seemed a ridiculous story, and I wondered why I'd ever thought such dark thoughts about the crown prince.
Even when I knew his sisters had done terrible things in St. Petersburg, I did not want to believe he was anything but the handsome young royal he appeared to be.
I felt his closeness, the warmth from his body. It made me shiver a little.
That was when I told myself he might be an even greater spell caster than his sister, without even trying. He stirred my senses. I found myself wanting to know more about him.
As the first sounds of the polonaise played, I realized Elena was no longer standing next to me. The tsar and the empress glided around the ball room, taking the first turn of the first dance. The ball room was beautiful, and very elegant, draped in its black crepe. There were no flowers to decorate the tables, only white candles. The room sparkled with the candlelight reflected by the thousands of diamonds worn by all the ladies.
In a severe way, it was even more beautiful than usual.
As the tsar and his wife finished their first sweep around the hot and crowded ball room, the tsarevitch stepped onto the floor with his partner on his arm. Elena. I wondered why in heaven he'd asked her for the first dance when he most likely wished to dance with the princess Alix.
I looked around for her. The Hessian princess was nowhere to be seen.
The grand duchess Xenia joined in next, dancing with her Greek cousin, Prince Nicholas, and then soon everyone was swarming the dance floor. I wondered where the grand duke George was. Why was he not dancing the polonaise?
At the far end of the ball room, I saw my cousin Dariya, on the arm of a sharply dressed cadet from the Corps des Pages. She gave a little wave, but her smile faded and her eyes grew wide as she noticed my partner.
Then she disappeared from my view behind the hundreds of dancing couples.
"Shal we?" Prince Danilo asked. I noticed that his piercing black eyes were fringed with the longest lashes I'd ever seen. All thoughts of everyone else flew from my head. I felt a dizzying rush of delight.
"Of course," I said, taking his arm. My heart beat wildly as our hands touched.
Prince Danilo was devastatingly handsome. And he danced well. I found myself reveling in the feel of his arms around me. Dancing with him was almost like flying. I saw the faces of several people as we twirled around: I noticed Maman and Papa dancing. Papa looked as if he'd rather be shot, but Maman was very happy. Petya was dancing after all, with one of the Stroganova princesses. I could not remember her name, but she was very pretty. The princesses Militza and Anastasia were dancing with their fiances. Uncle George looked happy and in love. As much as I distrusted the Montenegrins, I had to thank Anastasia for helping him get over his late wife. He'd been mourning her death for far too long.
But I had better things to think of now. I looked up at Danilo and felt all my senses swimming as he smiled at me.
As the polonaise ended, I stepped back, a bit lost as Danilo moved away. His arms were no longer around me, and I wished the dance had gone on forever. Prince Danilo and I clapped politely for the musicians and wandered toward the rotunda, where a wine punch was being served. He brought us both glasses.
"Thank you, Your Highness," I said, grateful for the cold drink. My throat was dry and I was out of breath. But I was certain that it was more than the exercise that had left me so dizzy.
"Thank you, for the wonderful dance," he said, his voice low and hypnotic. "This is my first ball in your beautiful city, and I will never forget it." I strained to take in his every word. "It is unusual, to be sure," I said.
"Most are more colorful than this."
The crown prince pulled my fingers to his lips. "Do not make excuses.
The night has been perfect. And my dance partner has bewitched me." He looked at me with his sleepy black eyes as if I were a queen.
I thought I would melt into the floor. I'd never been looked at like that before. It was thrilling and terrifying at the same time.
My heart raced until I thought it would burst. I would have sworn I could feel the heat from his kiss on my gloved hand. The fire raced up my arm and down my spine.
I shook myself as if to break a spell.
That was when I saw the grand duchess Elizabeth with her husband, the grand duke Sergei Alexandrovich, passing us in the hall. I needed some sort of distraction before I lost all my senses.
"Your Imperial Highness, is your sister here tonight?" I asked. "I have not seen her yet."
The grand duchess shook her head. "I am afraid Alix is very unwel today and has stayed in her room resting. We went ice-skating again yesterday, and she is quite fatigued."
"Mon Dieu," I said. "Please give her my greetings. I hope to see her again soon."
"Thank you, I will tell her," the grand duchess said kindly. She nodded regally as I introduced her and her husband to the crown prince. Grand Duke Serge Alexandrovich, one of the tsar's younger brothers, was a slim, wiry man with a mustache and beard. He was very possessive of his young wife. Taking her by the arm, he retreated with her to the grand hall.
"I suppose it would be presumptuous of me to ask for a second dance?" Prince Danilo said, smiling his charming smile again.
I couldn't help laughing. He made me feel reckless. Almost enthralled. "It would be very presumptuous," I told him. "But I shal accept, as you are new to the ways of St. Petersburg society."
He grinned and took my arm to lead me back to the ball. Elena was now dancing with one of the officers from my brother's regiment. She was having a grand time.
It was a waltz by Tchaikovsky, a dizzying, breath-stealing dance, and I was elated to be flying across the ball room with the heir of Montenegro.
The rest of the world fell away from us. I was conscious of nothing except his arms around me, his hands gently holding on to my waist. I wanted the moment to last forever.
But as the waltz ended, I saw Dariya whispering with Aurora Demidova.
Surely they knew by now whom I was dancing with, and the speculations would soon start. They saw us heading toward the rotunda and quickly intercepted us. "Katiya!" Dariya said. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting your beau."
Neither girl was smiling. Both looked at the crown prince with icy disdain.
"Your Royal Majesty, may I present my cousin Dariya Yevgenievna and one of our fell ow students, Aurora Demidova? This is Danilo of Montenegro." I looked at Dariya a little guiltily and added, "Elena's brother."
"Enchante, mesdemoiselles," the crown prince said, bowing gall antly with a click of his heels.
Dariya and Aurora both curtsied politely. "How are you enjoying St.
Petersburg?" my cousin asked.
"I am enjoying it very much," Crown Prince Danilo said, staring at me. I could feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment. "But perhaps I have monopolized your beautiful cousin for too long?" He turned his dazzling smile on Dariya.
She must not have been quite so immune to his charms, for she finally smiled. "There are so many other girls here tonight eager to dance with you, Your Majesty," she said.
"Then I would not want to break their hearts. Katerina Alexandrovna, I regret that I must leave you now."
I curtsied to the crown prince as he gall antly kissed my hand once more and disappeared back into the throng.
Dariya linked her arm with mine, saying in a low voice, "Really, Katiya!
What were you thinking? Elena's brother!"
I sighed. "He's so much nicer than she is." I caught myself searching the crowd for him. I couldn't help wondering who he was dancing with now.
Was she prettier than I?
"Elena poisoned me!" Dariya whispered. "And Aurora and who knows how many others at Smolny. Now she wants her brother to get to know you? What do you think her motives are?"
I shrugged, but I promised my cousin that I would be more careful around Elena and her handsome brother. Aurora accepted the hand of a Serbian prince for the next dance, so Dariya and I went in search of refreshments.
We ran into my mother and the grand duchess Miechen.
Maman did not look happy. "Please do not cause a scandal tonight, Katiya. Princess Radziwil and the rest of the gossips are already talking about you and that young man. Two dances? Really!" She shook her ebony-handled fan in agitation.
The grand duchess said nothing but looked down her nose at me with her violet-blue eyes. I was certain she already knew my mysterious partner's identity. She probably also knew whatever it was his family wanted from me.
With a heavy sigh, I decided to be prudent and dance with as many different eligible bachelors as I could the rest of the evening. Unfortunately, none of them were terribly ugly. Or terribly poor.
When it was time for dinner, I was not at the same table as my parents but seated instead with my older cousins the grand dukes Nicholas and Peter Nikolayevich, and the princess Cantacuzene. Elena was the only other young person seated with us.
"Whoever made the seating arrangements should be exiled to Siberia," Elena said, pouting. She gazed longingly at the imperial table several times as the tsarevitch frequently laughed at his brother's jokes. George Alexandrovich, I noticed, never looked my way once throughout dinner. The grand duchess Elizabeth and her husband were seated at the same table as Tsar Alexander and his wife. The grand duchess's father and brother were seated at the same table as my parents and Petya. Dariya was seated with them also and laughed as she spoke with the Hessian prince.
She looked up at me and gave me a little wave.
I told Elena to hush; our fate could be much worse. At the table next to us sat at least seven elderly dames, all shouting and grumbling loudly because they could not hear each other speaking.
Elena rolled her eyes but kept her peace.
The meal was delicious, served by men in crisp black liveries. Even the china was a formal mourning pattern, with a wide black band around the imperial crest. Elena was silent through most of the meal, as was I, for we were not seated next to each other and had little to say to the older grand dukes.
Princess Cantacuzene fussed over her vegetables and complained that her meat was overcooked. She was favorably impressed with the dessert course, however, and tried to eat the grand duke Nicholas Nikolayevich's sorbet when she had finished her own. I sighed, thinking she truly was senile. I decided to ignore her dire warnings about the handsome crown prince of Montenegro.
Elena and I were grateful to escape when we saw the tsar and the empress stand at their own table. With relief, we hurried back toward the ball room.
"So what do you think of my brother?" Elena said. She had been bursting to ask me this all night.
I could feel my cheeks growing hot. "I think he is very nice. I am glad he came to the ball tonight."
Elena laughed. "He thinks you are very nice too." I cannot explain the way my heart made a funny little jump when she said that. Perhaps I was having a palpitation? I placed my hand over my chest to calm it down. "Will he be staying in St. Petersburg long?" I asked her.
"At least for the next month. He is going to visit our sister Zorka and her family in Geneva at the end of February."
The orchestra began to play again, and I danced the rest of the night with young officers in Petya's regiment. They were all very handsome and very respectful, but none danced quite as well as my first partner. By the end of the evening, my skirt had several tears where their spurs had caught the hem. Elena complained that her dress shared a similar fate.
I remembered my promise to Petya and danced the last dance with him.
Despite his protests, he had overcome his reluctance and had danced with several beautiful princesses and countesses. It did not appear as if any young lady had caught his eye, though.
"Your heir of Montenegro seems to be meeting with your approval after all?" he said, nodding toward the crown prince, who was dancing with his sister Militza.
I blushed. "Perhaps I was too hasty to judge him without meeting him first." But it was as if a fog had lifted once I was away from the crown prince. He did not seem quite so irresistible anymore. "He is handsome enough. But I don't trust him or his family," I whispered. "Princess Cantacuzene said they are blood drinkers. Vampires." Petya laughed. "Don't be ridiculous. She is a senile old woman with a wild imagination."
I glanced around the room, startled to see the elderly princess staring straight at us-as if she could hear my brother and me talking in the middle of the dancing crowds.
"I've heard nothing about him, good or ill, but I can't say the same for his sisters," Petya went on. "Perhaps you should stay away from that whole family."
"Elena was the one who poisoned Dariya. I'm sure of it." My brother looked at me in surprise. "You have proof?" I shook my head. "Of course not," I said. "She's too clever for that."
"Then leave it alone. Elena is the daughter of a king. All the more reason you should not be encouraging the crown prince's attentions."
"I wasn't!" I protested. But I saw that Petya was only half serious, and I pretended to pout. "Maman will be so disappointed. I am sure she is already planning my wedding to the crown prince." Petya rolled his eyes. "She has been plotting your wedding since before you were born."
"Before I was born? With whom?"
My brother's grin was wicked. "The Archduke of Bohemia."
"The prince who is always digging in his ear with his pinky finger?" I asked, cringing. I was glad I'd heard no mention of this growing up.
As the ball ended, I did not see the prince Danilo but found myself a little sad he had not bid me good night. Petya and I found our parents and we slowly followed the crowds down the long grand staircase outside to wait for our carriage. Le ball Noir had been an amazing success, and now the full moon shone brightly across the snow-covered streets, casting a ghostly light.
"Your Highnesses," Princess Militza said as she bowed to my parents.
The Montenegrins were standing behind us as they waited for their own carriage. I saw Elena smile and wondered how they had managed to push their way through the crowd.
I introduced my parents and my brother to the crown prince, and my mother hurried to invite him and his sisters over to the house for tea the next week. Petya was polite but cool as he shook Prince Danilo's hand, as was my father. I was thankful no one would notice my blush even in the bright moonlight. A huge full moon had risen high in the clear winter night sky.
Papa did not seem to be impressed one way or the other with the Montenegrins as we chatted, but on the ride home he spoke up. "I hope that young scoundrel does not expect you to live in Montenegro if you marry him," he said.
"Papa!" My voice, to my dismay, was much higher than normal. "No one has said a word about me marrying the crown prince." I settled back into my seat, wrapping my cloak tighter around me. "Besides, I would never leave the two of you, even if I married the Prince of Wales." My brother snorted at that. He quickly regained his composure as Maman shot him a look that we both could see, even in the dim carriage.
"Let's not be too hasty," Maman warned my father. "I hear Cetinje is a beautiful city."
"I just wanted to make my feelings known on the matter," Papa said gruffly.
I patted his hand. "Do not worry about such things, Papa. It will never happen."
As we made our way down the Palace Embankment, the horses reared, and the carriage shuddered and stopped.
"Good heavens!" Maman said, crossing herself. "What is wrong with those beasts?"
Petya stuck his head out to speak with the driver. He agreed to get out and help calm the horses. As I looked out my window, I saw a silver blur streaking past. "A fox!" I said.
Papa leaned over. "Too big. It looks like a wolf. No wonder the horses are spooked."
It was a beautiful creature, whatever it was, running across the frozen city at midnight.
What surprised me most was the creature's cold light, trailing behind it.
I'd never seen an animal with a cold light before.