Going back to Smolny was not as bad as it had been in September. It was even worse. I knew it would only be a few more months before the winter term was over, but I was determined to deal with the young ghost. I was surprised to find myself almost happy to see Alix and Aurora and the Bavarian princesses again. Elena would not stop talking about her new baby brother. Erzsebet and Augusta would not stop talking about the upcoming St. Petersburg winter season. "There will be ballets and operas, and so many balls! Our cousin has finally been presented to the empress and she will be attending all of the festivities! She's promised to write us daily and tell us everything!"
Princess Alix unpacked her small suitcase and stayed silent. When the princesses asked about her holiday, she only smiled and shrugged.
"She tries to be so mysterious, when there is nothing to be mysterious about," Elena whispered to me later, as we walked to the dining hall for dinner. "She is so dull!"
"Then why does she bother you so much?" I asked.
Elena sighed, frustrated. "I suppose part of it is the way the tsarevitch looked at her when they danced at the Smolny Ball."
I found myself feeling sorry for the Montenegrin princess. I squeezed her hand. "He's not for you, Elena."
She pushed my hand away. "What do you know of it? He has always belonged to me!" Tears formed in her eyes.
"Elena-"
With a cry, she stormed past me, back to our room. I watched her leave with worry. I was starting to believe she really loved Nicholas Alexandrovich.
I sighed. And what if Alix had done more than just catch the tsarevitch's eye? She was the granddaughter of Queen Victoria, but not someone his parents would approve of for such an important alliance. Elena was the daughter of a king. Even if he was a poor king. He was still a very powerful man. And a dangerous one at that.
"Are you coming to dinner?" Augusta asked as she met me in the hall. "There is a new cook, we heard. He used to work for the Yussopov family."
I smiled. Maman and Papa both had commented several times before on the splendid dinners they'd had at the Yussopov Palace. Princess Zenaida Yussopova was the richest woman in St. Petersburg, with more wealth than the imperial family. I was sure the cook was used to a kitchen pantry stocked with the freshest and rarest foods. What culinary magic he would be able to perform with our simple Smolny kitchen, I couldn't wait to discover.
As I passed the library, I saw something moving from the corner of my eye. Something dark and large and fast. I stopped and peeked inside. Of course there was nothing. No one was in the tiny reading room, alive or dead. My heart beat wildly, but I took a deep breath and hurried on to the dining hall. I needed a good supper and then a good night's sleep.
