strains of the harpsichord or pianoforte which Katya played so well. He sighed and walked forward.
The schoolroom was not empty. The door was open, and Nicholas saw Katya bent over a book on the table, carefully reading. Raffaldi sat at the same table, a notebook open before him, and he was correcting Katya's work, Nicholas saw. The governess, Taichili, a woman whom Nicholas found entirely lacking in warmth and compassion but whom Marie-Elena insisted was dedicated to her charge.
was not present. Nicholas knocked on the door. "May I interrupt?''
Raffaldi stood while Katya straightened. "Excellency," the dark Italian said. He beamed. "I shall have you know that your daughter had only one misspelling in this entire essay!''
"That is wonderful," Nicholas said, his eyes on Katya, his heart heavy. "And what was the subject of the essay?"
"Katya, tell your father what you have written about," Raffaldi said pleasantly.
"My essay was about the Empress Catherine."
"An important topic," Nicholas said. "And what did you say about her?"
"She was a great ruler because she sought to make Russia better," Katya said seriously. "She made Russia bigger and she taught everyone to be responsible toward their serfs," Katya said. "She wanted government to come from 'Nature and Reason.' "
"I am very impressed," Nicholas said truthfully.
"Thank you. Father," she said, lowering her eyes. Was she flushing ever so slightly? With pleasure, he hoped?
"Do you wish to read it?" Raffaldi was enthusiastic.
"Yes, but later. May I speak privately with my daughter, signore?" It was not a request.
The Italian quickly left the room.
Nicholas came forward. Katya sat absolutely still, regarding him. He pulled out another child's chair and sat down opposite her, feeUng terribly oversized and terribly awkward, as well. In fact, if he dared to face his innermost thoughts, he felt overwhelmed. "Did you like your gift?" he asked.
Katya nodded, eyes large, mouth pursed. "Thank you. Father."
He wished she woiild leap up and hug him with abandon. "Would you like to show it to me?" he asked. He glanced around the schoolroom, but saw no sign of an animal.
She nodded. "Madame Taichili said I must keep him in my room."
"You may go and fetch him," Nicholas said. "It is a boy?"
Katya nodded, and quickly left the schoolroom. A moment later she returned, a ball of white fur and blue eyes in her arms. Her expression very serious, she paused in front of Nicholas and held the kitten out. ' 'Do you want to hold him?"
"No, thank you," Nicholas said, but he stroked the kitten between the ears. It was purring.
Katya kept her eyes glued on Nicholas's face.
"Does he have a name?"
"Yes. Alexander."
Nicholas almost laughed. "You have named him after the tsar?"
"No. After Alexi."
Nicholas wanted to hug her. "My brother must be flattered," he said, trying not to laugh.
"He said I should get Alexander's brother and name him Nicholas," Katya returned evenly.
"I think one kitten is enough," Nicholas said. "Do you want to talk about what happened this morning, Katya?"
She stroked the kitten, her eyes downcast. She did not reply.
' 'I spoke with the doctors just a few moments ago. Your mother is out of danger. She will live."
Katya remained silent. The kitten's purring filled the void between them.
"But she is weak," Nicholas said, oddly desperate now. "Can you wait until tomorrow to visit her?"
When Katya did not reply, he repeated the question. "Yes," she mumbled in the kitten's ftir.
"Do you want me to take you to see her now?" he asked, against his better judgment.
She looked up, her nearly black eyes meeting his. "I will wait as you have asked me to do. Father," she said.
He nodded, standing. It was always this way, his words and feelings coming up against a solid wall. "I am glad
you like Alexander, Katya." He bit back a frown as Taichili sailed into the room.
"Excellency," she said briskly. "Katya, it is time for your pianoforte lessons."
Katya's face
The schoolroom was not empty. The door was open, and Nicholas saw Katya bent over a book on the table, carefully reading. Raffaldi sat at the same table, a notebook open before him, and he was correcting Katya's work, Nicholas saw. The governess, Taichili, a woman whom Nicholas found entirely lacking in warmth and compassion but whom Marie-Elena insisted was dedicated to her charge.
was not present. Nicholas knocked on the door. "May I interrupt?''
Raffaldi stood while Katya straightened. "Excellency," the dark Italian said. He beamed. "I shall have you know that your daughter had only one misspelling in this entire essay!''
"That is wonderful," Nicholas said, his eyes on Katya, his heart heavy. "And what was the subject of the essay?"
"Katya, tell your father what you have written about," Raffaldi said pleasantly.
"My essay was about the Empress Catherine."
"An important topic," Nicholas said. "And what did you say about her?"
"She was a great ruler because she sought to make Russia better," Katya said seriously. "She made Russia bigger and she taught everyone to be responsible toward their serfs," Katya said. "She wanted government to come from 'Nature and Reason.' "
"I am very impressed," Nicholas said truthfully.
"Thank you. Father," she said, lowering her eyes. Was she flushing ever so slightly? With pleasure, he hoped?
"Do you wish to read it?" Raffaldi was enthusiastic.
"Yes, but later. May I speak privately with my daughter, signore?" It was not a request.
The Italian quickly left the room.
Nicholas came forward. Katya sat absolutely still, regarding him. He pulled out another child's chair and sat down opposite her, feeUng terribly oversized and terribly awkward, as well. In fact, if he dared to face his innermost thoughts, he felt overwhelmed. "Did you like your gift?" he asked.
Katya nodded, eyes large, mouth pursed. "Thank you. Father."
He wished she woiild leap up and hug him with abandon. "Would you like to show it to me?" he asked. He glanced around the schoolroom, but saw no sign of an animal.
She nodded. "Madame Taichili said I must keep him in my room."
"You may go and fetch him," Nicholas said. "It is a boy?"
Katya nodded, and quickly left the schoolroom. A moment later she returned, a ball of white fur and blue eyes in her arms. Her expression very serious, she paused in front of Nicholas and held the kitten out. ' 'Do you want to hold him?"
"No, thank you," Nicholas said, but he stroked the kitten between the ears. It was purring.
Katya kept her eyes glued on Nicholas's face.
"Does he have a name?"
"Yes. Alexander."
Nicholas almost laughed. "You have named him after the tsar?"
"No. After Alexi."
Nicholas wanted to hug her. "My brother must be flattered," he said, trying not to laugh.
"He said I should get Alexander's brother and name him Nicholas," Katya returned evenly.
"I think one kitten is enough," Nicholas said. "Do you want to talk about what happened this morning, Katya?"
She stroked the kitten, her eyes downcast. She did not reply.
' 'I spoke with the doctors just a few moments ago. Your mother is out of danger. She will live."
Katya remained silent. The kitten's purring filled the void between them.
"But she is weak," Nicholas said, oddly desperate now. "Can you wait until tomorrow to visit her?"
When Katya did not reply, he repeated the question. "Yes," she mumbled in the kitten's ftir.
"Do you want me to take you to see her now?" he asked, against his better judgment.
She looked up, her nearly black eyes meeting his. "I will wait as you have asked me to do. Father," she said.
He nodded, standing. It was always this way, his words and feelings coming up against a solid wall. "I am glad
you like Alexander, Katya." He bit back a frown as Taichili sailed into the room.
"Excellency," she said briskly. "Katya, it is time for your pianoforte lessons."
Katya's face
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