The Morning Star kt-3 Page 3

  “How was Paris?” I asked when he paused for breath.

  “Hot.” His kisses traveled up my neck.

  “I missed you,” I said, my own kisses clumsily reaching his earlobe, his cheek.

  “And I’ve missed you.” His voice was husky. The familiar rush of my cold light spiraling around both of us gave me a dangerous thrill. I felt his magic rising to meet mine and relaxed just slightly. He was truly a stronger mage now, and yet I still worried I could overpower him with my cold light. Or my love.

  He groaned. “Katiya,” he said, slightly winded. He pulled away from me, searching my face. “Your year is almost up, Duchess.”

  “My year?” My thoughts came crashing back down to earth. Why couldn’t he just let us enjoy the present moment?

  “Remember our promise?” Last August when I tried to refuse his proposal, he’d asked me for a year to receive his parents’ blessing. But a year ago, he was just beginning his Koldun studies. And I’d believed I was going to medical school.

  “But nothing has changed your mother’s mind,” I said. If anything, I thought she disliked me even more. “Georgi, you’re as pale as a ghost. Sit down.” I pulled him over to one of the library chairs. Gently pushing his hair off his face, I asked, “What have you been doing to yourself?”

  He was not going to be distracted with me fussing over his health. He took both of my hands in his. “I’ve spoken with my father. I’ve told him my plans.”

  My heart stopped in my throat. “And?”

  He pulled me closer and his hands settled on my waist once again. I was very aware of the fact that I was standing between his legs as he looked up at me. “He would like to speak with you.” George smiled up at me. “Don’t be afraid. He does not bite.”

  I didn’t smile back. Something in my stomach tightened nervously. What was the name of that muscle again? “When?” I asked.

  “I will send a carriage for you tonight. My parents leave for their villa in Fredensborg in the morning.”

  “And you?”

  “I must stay in St. Petersburg for the present. I have business with the Inner Circle. And the Koldun.”

  “Can you tell me—”

  “No,” he said, stopping my question with another kiss. His hands cupped my face. “There is nothing for you to worry about.”

  I pulled back from him. “But you are worried about something. You aren’t healing as fast as you should.” The supernatural wound he’d received dueling with Danilo must not have responded to any of the Koldun’s spells. And the Koldun was recovering from his own brush with death. “I wish you would let Dr. Badmaev examine you.”

  “I’ve had my fill of doctors and wizards. I am well enough, Katiya.” His hands slid up and down my arms slowly. “Leave it at that.”

  “You’re not getting enough sleep,” I said, kissing each of his eyelids. His blue eyes looked sunken and hollow. The silver sparkle was not there. He was still my beautiful boy, just more fragile. I would have to discover a cure for him on my own.

  He pulled me down onto his lap sideways. “No meddling, Katiya.” His lips were soft and warm against my ear. It tickled.

  “You’re in my head again,” I said, putting a hand on his chest. George’s fae abilities allowed him to hear my thoughts, but not I his. I could feel his heart pounding. Mon Dieu, his skin was hot.

  “Your thoughts are too loud to ignore.”

  “What am I thinking now?” My hand crept up to his collar and my fingertips brushed against the smooth warm skin of his neck peeking out from his shirt. His lips touched my hairline. It sent nice shivers all over my scalp. “You are thinking that it is a very good thing I’m not going to Denmark with my family.”

  I smiled. “Yes, it could be a very good thing if I get to see you.”

  “I’ll find a way, Katiya. I promise.” He kissed me once more. “But I think you should probably get back to the luncheon.”

  I sighed heavily as I slid off his lap and tried to smooth my skirts. He laughed and stood up, reaching over to tuck one of my wayward curls behind my ear.

  “I’m certain no one has missed you,” he said, grinning. “Except probably Xenia.”

  I put my hand on the doorknob and stopped. “Should I go and find Alix?”

  He shook his head. “You left because you were feeling ill, did you not? Now you’re feeling better. You have a much healthier glow.” His smile was mischievous.

  I rolled my eyes and turned to go, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back for one last kiss. “I’ll see you tonight, Katiya. And we will speak with my father.”

  I wasn’t sure if I should be frightened or excited at the prospect. I felt a little of both.

  5

  That evening I was sitting down to dinner with my parents when my brother, Petya, came home. He was still dressed in his regimental uniform, having been on duty all day at the Order’s headquarters. “Katiya, I am to escort you to Anichkov Palace for an audience with the tsar.”

  Both Papa and Maman looked shocked. I stood up quickly. “Do not be alarmed,” I said, throwing my napkin onto my chair. “It is probably nothing.”

  “Petya, is this about the Order?” Papa asked.

  “I’m not certain” was all my brother said. He was probably as mystified as my parents.

  I grabbed my wrap and followed my brother into a black-and-gold-trimmed carriage. Anichkov Palace was not far from our house on Millionaya Street. As the carriage rolled through the ornate iron gates and past the wooded park surrounding the palace, my brother frowned. “What have you done now, Katiya? I won’t tell our parents, but I must know what sort of trouble you’ve been causing.”

  I gave him a nervous shrug. What did the tsar plan to say to me? Would he approve of me as a wife for his son? I didn’t dare to hope. Perhaps he was ready to allow me to go to medical school in Zurich. But now that my studies were going so well with Dr. Badmaev, did I still want to leave St. Petersburg?

  Petya stepped out of the carriage as it rolled to a stop at the palace entrance. He turned and offered his hand to me. I was shaking much more than I’d realized. “I won’t leave you unless I’m ordered to,” he said, his face stern and serious like any soldier’s.

  I loved my brother, even if he did always think the worst of me. “I’ll be fine,” I told him.

  To my embarrassment, we were taken to the tsar’s library. Only hours ago I’d been kissing the tsar’s son in this very room. I blushed and glanced around quickly, searching for George, but the library was empty except for the tsar. He was seated behind his handsome Hepplewhite desk. “Leave us, Commander Oldenburg.”

  There was nothing Petya could do but click his heels and bow. With one last worried glance at me, he turned and left, closing the door behind him. I was alone with Tsar Alexander. As he stood up, the lamp on the desk cast long, menacing shadows behind him. “Katerina Alexandrovna,” he said, coming around the desk and sitting on the corner. “My son and I have had a long discussion about you.”

  I said nothing. I was too frightened to speak. My entire future was in this man’s hands.

  Even if he had not been such a large man, the tsar would have been intimidating. But there was a reason he was called Sasha the Bear. He loomed over me like a Kodiak. And this was without transforming into the bogatyr, the ancient warrior hero of Russia. I hoped he had not summoned me here because he needed me to perform the ritual. If such had been the case, we would have been joined in the library by several Orthodox clergy and wizards of the Inner Circle, not to mention the empress herself.

  “George tells me the two of you wish to marry.”

  “Yes, Your Imperial Majesty.” It came out barely above a whisper.

  The tsar’s face finally relaxed into a smile. “My dear, nothing would make me happier. I’ve seen the way my son behaves around you. You’ve brought a light into his dark soul.”

  I stared at him with relief and shock. Me? Bringing George light? “I-I’d believed it was the other way around, Your
Imperial Majesty,” I stammered. Not that I wished to argue with the tsar.

  “Nonsense. George has always been the serious one, tormented by his own demons,” the tsar said. “I’m happy that he has found someone who will not let him wallow in the darkness. I’ve watched you grow up, Katerina, as the daughter of one of my favorite cousins. The shadows of the Dark Court haunt you, but you’ve always longed to stay out of their grasp. You can keep my son safe from those shadows.”

  “But my family,” I could not help myself from saying. “Maman is attached to the Dark Court, as striga.”

  Tsar Alexander shook his head. “You are a princess of imperial blood, Katerina Alexandrovna, and I know you will make a fine grand duchess. However, there is one sacrifice you must be willing to make. A daughter-in-law of the tsar cannot practice medicine. So I’m afraid medical school is out of the question.”

  The happiness that had dared to bubble up inside me suddenly vanished. “I cannot become a doctor?” What sort of cruel joke was the tsar playing on me?

  The tsar folded his arms. “You will have plenty to occupy your time raising a young family.”

  “And my responsibilities as your necromancer?” I asked.

  His smile was grim. “We pray to God your services won’t be needed any longer.”

  “But it’s only a matter of time before Konstantin Pavlovich returns. Unless the Koldun has discovered a way to prevent it?”

  The tsar frowned, and for a second I believed I had angered him. “I have faith that the Inner Circle will prevent the lich from returning, Katerina. That burden falls upon the current Koldun and will one day fall upon my son. You must only concern yourself with providing the empress and me with grandchildren.” His face softened again. “But not too soon, I should think. The empress believes she is much too young to be a grandmother.”

  I blushed. “Your Imperial Majesty, I am only seventeen.” About to turn eighteen. I did not know what else to say. The tsar was asking too much of me. Give up my childhood dream or lose the boy I loved? How could he ask me to choose?

  “No hurry, my dear. No hurry. In fact, I think a long engagement might be most suitable. The empress does need time to come around. She still thinks of her sons as little children. But it’s time Nicholas begins to think about marriage as well.”

  I kept silent. I knew neither the tsar nor his wife was fond of Alix, so there was no point in angering him. “And Xenia as well,” I offered instead.

  “Xenia?” The tsar looked at me in surprise. “It will be years before she is ready to marry.”

  “And perhaps years before you and the empress are ready to let her marry,” I said, immediately hoping I had not been too bold.

  But he stood up again and retreated behind his desk, indicating that our meeting was over. No fatherly bear hug, for which I was grateful. “Katerina,” he said as I curtsied and turned toward the door, “do you still have a decision to make or has it already been made?”

  I stared at him, my throat dry and my heart pounding. “I… ” But as badly as I wanted to please the tsar, I couldn’t. “I have to think, Your Imperial Majesty.”

  He nodded. There was no way I could tell whether my answer pleased or disappointed him. Perhaps it was what he had expected.

  With another hasty curtsy, I fled from his library and found my brother standing at attention outside. “Take me home, Petya,” I said, sweeping past him toward the palace entrance. I did not want to see George Alexandrovich. Not yet. Had he known his father was going to ask such a thing of me?

  My brother pestered me with questions the entire ride home. “It had nothing to do with the lich tsar, Petya,” I said, leaning my head back and closing my eyes. “And it wasn’t about the Order. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow. I’m just tired.”

  It had been an exhausting interview. I begged him to tell our parents something, anything, so I could just go straight to bed when we got home. With a worried frown, he finally nodded. As the carriage drew closer to Betskoi House, Petya leaned forward and put his hand on top of mine. “I just wish I knew what it was so I could make it better.”

  I glanced up at him. Sometimes my brother’s overprotectiveness made me want to cry. “I wish you could too.”

  6

  I spoke with my brother early the next morning. Maman was a late riser, and Papa had gone for a brisk early-morning walk. Petya was already dressed in his regimentals, ready to leave for his palace duties. “And now are you going to tell me what last night was all about?” he asked, taking a hot cup of tea from the footman’s tray.

  I pulled him into Papa’s study. “George asked his father for permission for us to marry. The tsar agreed, but—”

  “Katiya, that is wonderful news! I think George Alexandrovich is an excellent fellow!”

  I shook my head. “But the tsar will only give us permission if I agree to give up my dreams of becoming a doctor.”

  “And you can’t decide which you want more?” Petya asked. He was not condescending but concerned.

  I could not hold it in any longer. The tears I’d refused to shed the previous night came bursting out as my brother pulled me into his arms. “There, there,” he said, feebly patting my shoulder. “Surely you love your grand duke above all else?”

  “Do I?” I asked, looking up at Petya. “What if I grow to resent my sacrifice? What if I grow to hate him?”

  “Is that what you’re afraid of?” he asked.

  I nodded, careful not to wipe my tears on his regimentals. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and gave it to me.

  “Katiya, perhaps the tsar will agree to some sort of compromise. If you cannot attend medical school, perhaps he will let you open a hospital in your own name. You can spend all your free time there.”

  I gave my brother a slight push as I turned away. “That is exactly what Danilo proposed. But I want to make a hands-on difference. I don’t want to be a silly grand duchess who simply spends money.”

  “But you can make a difference with money, Katiya. Never doubt that.”

  My back still turned to him, I blew my nose.

  He sighed, exasperated with me. “I must leave now or I will be late. Are you going to tell Maman and Papa?”

  I shook my head. “Not until I’ve made my decision. What good would it do?”

  “All right,” he said, squeezing my shoulder gently. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

  I waited until he left before dissolving into tears again. I had to speak with Dr. Badmaev. I wasn’t expected until this afternoon for my studies, but I decided I’d rather face a table of cut-open corpses than my parents right now. I quietly slipped back to my room and grabbed my cloak. I left word with the servants that I’d gone to Dariya’s for the day, hoping my cousin would not choose today to pay me a visit.

  I had not seen much of Dariya since she’d traveled with Miechen’s Dark Court to Biarritz over the summer. She had become more and more like her stepmother, Countess Zenaida: her head was filled with Dark Court intrigues and affairs. Dariya was intent on capturing a wealthy, titled husband. I knew what she would tell me to do if I confided in her.

  I walked briskly to the nearest tram location and paid my passage to Betosky Prospekt. I was getting used to riding the rickety, cramped carriage with strangers and seeing a side of St. Petersburg I’d never seen before. Would I be able to help these people better as a wealthy grand duchess or as a research doctor? Could I ever forgive myself if I gave George up? I was so lost in my own miserable thoughts I almost missed my stop near Dr. Badmaev’s clinic and herb shop. Why should the tsar force me to make such a choice? It wasn’t as if George were the heir to the throne. I would never be tsarina or empress.

  Brooding, I entered the doctor’s shop. There were already a few patients sitting in his waiting area. I smiled at them as I hung my wrap on the coat stand. I passed through to the back of the building, where I found the Tibetan doctor drinking a cup of tea.

  “Duchess! You are early! Are
you so eager to dive back into the lung tissue? Did you discover the secrets of your pink growths?”

  “Yes, they were tuberculin tumors,” I said with a little pride. “But I came early because I am in a terrible quandary.” I took the cup of tea Masha handed me. Thanking her, I sat down next to Dr. Badmaev.

  “Nothing that tea can’t make better, I hope?” he said, smiling.

  “I’m afraid it’s too terrible for tea to fix.” I took a sip and told him about the tsar’s ultimatum.

  “The tsar is very old-fashioned. More so than his father ever was,” the Tibetan said. “And this has kept you up all night, worrying?”

  I laughed grimly. “Does it show?”

  He smiled. “Come to the lab and we will take your mind off your problems for now. Perhaps you will be able to think clearly after concentrating on something else for a while.”

  I smiled back. Tumors and germs were just what I needed.

  I spent the morning examining lung tissues under the microscope while Dr. Badmaev treated the patients out front. As I drew illustrations of the various cells, I listened to him examine his patients, asking them about their symptoms and explaining to them how to take the medicine he was prescribing.

  Most of the patients were poor and ignorant and needed simple, brief directions. Their illnesses could have been prevented if they had nutritious food and practiced better hygiene. One woman had put pig manure on her child’s cut foot because a neighbor had suggested it. Dr. Badmaev fussed at her for listening to such foolish advice. “Keep the foot clean,” I heard him tell her. “Put fresh, clean dressings on it every day. And make sure the child takes this medicine every day too.”

  He must have seen at least twenty patients before joining me in the lab. He did not look tired at all. “And how are the lungs today?”

  I could not help smiling. “I’ve sketched five different kinds of cells that I found within the lung tissues.”