“Maria, is that you?” she replied from her cot. “My child, what are you doing up now? Don’t you know it’s the middle of the night?”
“Where’s Papa?”
“Gone out.”
“Gone out? Where? When?”
There was more rustling and a groan as Dunya pushed herself to her feet. A second later, the curtain was pushed aside. Clutching her nightdress over her ample bosom, Dunya glanced at the clock and then at me.
“Maria, my dear, you need to go back to bed. It’s-”
“I need to speak to my father!” I demanded.
“Milaya maya devochka,” my dear young girl, “it’s not even after midnight, and you’ve only been asleep for an hour. Now, really, you must return to bed. It would do no good to have you get sick!”
“Did Papa go out alone?”
“Nyet.”
Oh, God, I thought. “Did someone come fetch him? Who? Who did he leave with?”
“What’s the matter, Maria? Why are you so nervous?” Like a calming mother, Dunya ran one of her hands through my hair. “Everything’s all right, my child. He just went out with Prince Felix, that’s all.”
“Oi,” I moaned, jerking away from her.
“What’s the matter? Everything’s fine. The two of them have had plans for tonight for quite some time. There’s nothing unusual about it, really. I was lying on my cot and heard everything. The prince came to the back door here and rang the bell, your father answered, and they left for the Yusupov Palace. Princess Irina is to be there. They only left a minute ago-”
A minute ago? I lunged for the back door and charged to the top step.
“Papa! Papa, wait!” I screamed.
There was no reply, not even a hollow echo. They’d already left the building, but maybe there was still time. If I hurried, if I was quick enough-if, if, if. In that instant I was tearing back to my room, casting aside my night clothes and pulling on my dress.
“What’s going on?” asked Varya, sitting up in the dark and rubbing her eyes. “What time is it?”
“It’s late…I’m going out,” I said frantically. “Papa just left, and I have to catch him!”
“Oh,” she moaned as she rolled over and went back to sleep.
Moments later I was grabbing my cloak and scarf and gloves and heading through the kitchen.
“What on earth are you doing, Maria?” demanded Dunya, standing in front of the door like a mother bear blocking the exit from her cave. “You can’t go out at this hour! And certainly not by yourself!”
“I have to catch Papa. I’ve got to tell him something, I’ve got to warn him!”
“Nyet, I forbid it! It’s too late, it’s too cold! Your mother would kill me for letting you go.”
Nothing had changed, and yet everything had. My task now was not to follow what someone decided was best for me but to take care of what needed to be done. I had no choice.
“Out of my way, Dunya,” I said, with firm determination.
“Wh-what?”
I pushed past her, meeting no real resistance. Throwing open the door, I hurried to the steps and started down, my feet moving as quickly as a ballerina’s. Behind me, Dunya’s voice sang out like an angel of mercy.
“It’s cold out-be sure to cover your head!” she called.
Well trained, I did just that, tying my scarf over my head and pulling my gloves on even before I reached the outer door. Flying outside, I burst into our courtyard, finding it deserted, cold and dark. A handful of lazy snowflakes descended on me as I turned one way and the other and then just stood frozen in confusion. Had they gone through the front archway and to the street, or had they sneaked out the back and through the alleyways as Fedya had done just the other night? My heart told me it was the latter, and I dashed toward the rear of the courtyard. I was just about to scream for my father when I saw something move in the dark depths of a corner. At first I thought it was one of the security agents huddled there out of the wind. But instead of a man in a long black leather coat, a smallish man with a beard ran out of the shadows toward me.
“Maria!” gasped Sasha with a nervous smile. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have come, but I couldn’t wait another-”
“Did you see my father?” I interrupted, totally ignoring his soft eyes and outstretched hand.
“Well, actually-”
“Was he with anyone? A younger man with a little mustache?”
“Yes, I…I think so.”
“Bozhe moi!”
“What’s the matter, what happened?”
As soon as he asked, I knew that if I didn’t stop Papa from leaving, he would never return, and I begged, “They went out the back, didn’t they?”
He hesitated a moment before nodding.
“Come on, my father’s in danger!”
From the worry on his face, it was clear that, while Sasha understood nothing, he understood it all. I grabbed him by his good arm and pulled him along, the two of us darting out the back and through the maze of alleyways. We charged along the same path I had taken when I’d followed Fedya the other night, hurrying down one discreet passage, turning left at the next. In the smallest of snowdrifts I saw two fresh tracks, the larger certainly belonging to my father, the smaller undoubtedly that of the lithe prince. There were no other immediate tracks, at least none that I could see, meaning that while they weren’t followed by an assassin, neither were they tailed by a security agent. And of course I understood: This was why Prince Felix was leading Papa out the back and down these lost alleys-so no one would see them, no one would know. But know what, the true nature of their relationship or the dangers ahead?
Oh, Papa, I thought as we ran, you can’t be so stupid, can you? Are you nothing but an ignorant peasant after all?
Holding hands, Sasha and I bolted around the last corner. But we were too late. At the far end of the arching passage a motorcar painted military gray roared to a start and took off like a leaping tiger. Breaking away from Sasha, I started running as fast as I could. By the time I reached the street, however, the motor was speeding around a corner, and the last I saw of it was its black canvas top and rear windowpane of mica.
Feeling completely helpless, I stood there in the cold night air. What should I do, just return to our apartment and wait? Telephone the Empress-and say what, that I was desperately worried about my father? No, though I was on the verge of tears, I knew exactly my next step.
I called over my shoulder, saying, “Sasha, I’ve got to get to Prince Felix’s palace on the Moika Kanal.”
“No, Maria, that’s not a good idea. Why don’t you-”
“You don’t understand, I have to!”
“But-”
Glancing up and down the narrow snow-swept street, I searched for a horse cab. “I’ve got to find a driver.”
Understanding how determined I was, Sasha came up and brusquely kissed me on the cheek. “Wait right here.”
“Why? What are you going to do?”
“When I came there was a motorcar parked in front of a restaurant back there. Just give me five minutes.”
He was off that very instant, dashing to the left, down the street, and around a corner. I didn’t know if he was going to try to bribe the driver or steal the car, but the moment he disappeared, I knew this was wrong. I couldn’t involve him. Who knew what was going on tonight and just how dangerous it really was, but this was family business. I had no choice. My mind made up, I turned in the opposite direction and made my way quickly down the block. As I hurried along, I glanced back only once, desperately sad but relieved there was no sign of him.
Seconds later I emerged on Goroxhovaya Street, which to my dismay was deserted. Were this the middle of the day, the terribly straight street would have been full of horse cabs, their drivers, huge men with bushy beards wearing thick blue coats and square red hats, perched up front. But of course this was the middle of the night. When I searched up and down the street, there was nothing, no cabs, no sledges, certainly no motorcars. A squall of snow suddenly burst from the skies, and the flakes fell large and heavy on my head and shoulders, dusting me like confectioners’ sugar. Was it hopeless?