He smiled when I mentioned his son and nodded his head. ‘Yes, indeed,’ he said. ‘And you are getting along well, the two of you?’
‘Yes, sir,’ I replied. ‘Very well.’
‘He seems to like you. I’ve asked him about you.’
‘I’m gratified to hear it, sir.’
He nodded and looked away, his attention drawn back to the maps for a moment, and he marched towards them, stroking his beard as he looked down. ‘These drawings,’ he muttered. ‘It’s all in these drawings, do you realize that, Georgy? The land. The borders. The ports. How to win. If only I could see it. But I can’t see it,’ he hissed, more to himself than to me. I decided that I should leave him to his studies so I stepped back, never turning my back on him, as I made for the door.
‘Perhaps we should get you some lessons,’ he said loudly before I could take my leave.
‘Lessons, sir?’
‘Improve your reading. These books are to be read, I tell all the staff that they may read as they will, providing they take care of the volumes and return them in the condition that they found them. Would you like that, Georgy?’
I couldn’t think for a moment whether I would or wouldn’t, but didn’t like to disappoint him so gave the answer that I believed he desired. ‘Yes, Your Majesty,’ I said. ‘I’d like that very much.’
‘Well, I’ll see that the Count sends you to some of the classes attended by the boys in the Corps of Pages. If you are to spend so much time with Alexei, it’s only right that you should be educated. You may leave now,’ he said, dismissing me.
I turned and left the room, closing the door behind me, little knowing that a lifetime surrounded by books was initiated by that one conversation with the Tsar.
Before I exchanged a single word with the Grand Duchess Anastasia Nicolaevna, I kissed her.
I had seen her on three occasions previously, once at the chestnut stand by the banks of the Neva, and again later that night as I had waited to be received by the Tsar on my first evening at the Winter Palace, when I had looked out across the banks of the river and watched as the four Grand Duchesses emerged from their pleasure boat.
The third occasion came two days after that, when I was returning from an afternoon of training with the Leib Guard. Exhausted, worried that I would never be able to compete with their levels of energy or strength and would quickly be despatched back to Kashin, I was returning to my room in the late afternoon and lost my way in the labyrinth of the palace, opening a door which I believed would lead me to my corridor, but which led instead into a type of schoolroom that I entered and marched halfway across before lifting my tired eyes from the ground and realizing my mistake.
‘Can I help you, young man?’ said a voice from my left and I turned to see Monsieur Gilliard, the Swiss tutor to the Tsar’s daughters, standing behind his desk and staring at me with a mixture of irritation and amusement.
‘I apologize, sir,’ I said quickly, blushing a little at my foolishness. ‘I thought the door led towards my room.’
‘Well, as you can see,’ he replied, spreading his arms wide to indicate the maps and portraits which covered the walls, portraits of the famous novelists and great musicians who formed a part of the girls’ studies, ‘it does not.’
‘No, sir,’ I replied, offering him a polite bow before turning around again. As I did so I noticed the four sisters seated in two rows behind individual desks, staring at me with a mixture of curiosity and boredom. This was the first time that I had stood before them – they had barely noticed me at the chestnut stand – and I felt a little self-conscious, but also greatly privileged to be in their presence. It was quite a thing for a moujik like me to be in a room with the daughters of the Tsar; an indescribable honour. The eldest, Olga, looked up from her book with an expression of pity on her face.
‘He looks worn out, Monsieur Gilliard,’ she remarked. ‘He’s only been here a few days and he’s already exhausted.’
‘I am quite well, thank you, Your Highness,’ I said, bowing deeply.
‘He’s the one who was shot in the shoulder, isn’t he?’ asked her younger sister, Tatiana, a tall, elegant girl with her mother’s hair and grey eyes.
‘No, that can’t be him, I heard it was someone terribly handsome who saved Cousin Nicholas’s life,’ giggled the third sister, Marie, and I shot her a look of irritation, for I might have still been overawed by my new life at the royal palace, but I was far too tired from jousting and fencing and sparring with Count Charnetsky’s men to allow myself to be bullied by a group of girls, regardless of their exalted status.
‘It is him,’ said a quieter voice and I turned to see the Grand Duchess Anastasia looking at me. She was almost fifteen years old then, a year or so younger than I, with bright-blue eyes and a smile that restored my vigour immediately.
‘How do you know that, Shvipsik?’ asked Marie, turning on her younger sister, who showed no sign of embarrassment or self-consciousness.
‘Because you’re right,’ she said with a shrug. ‘I heard the same thing. A handsome young man saved our cousin’s life. His name was Georgy. It must be him.’
The other girls dissolved in giggles, hooting with laughter at the brazen nature of her remark, but she and I continued to stare at each other and in a moment I saw the corners of her mouth turn up a little and a smile appear on her face and, to my amazement, I found the impertinence to offer the same compliment in return.
‘Our sister is in love,’ cried Tatiana and at that, Monsieur Gilliard rapped the wooden edge of his chalkboard eraser on the desk in front of him, which made both Anastasia and me jump, breaking the connection which we had made with each other, and I turned to look at the teacher in embarrassment.
‘I do apologize, sir,’ I said quickly. ‘I have disturbed your lesson.’
‘You have indeed, young man. You have an opinion to share on the actions of Count Vronsky?’
I stared at him in surprise. ‘I do not,’ I said. ‘I have never met the gentleman.’
‘The infidelity of Stepan Arkadyvich, then? Levin’s search for fulfilment? Perhaps you would like to comment on Alexei Alexandrovich’s reaction in the face of his wife’s betrayal?’
I had no idea what he was referring to, but seeing the novel that was open on each of the Grand Duchesses’ desks, I suspected that these were not real people at all, but characters in a fiction. I glanced towards Anastasia, who was glaring at her teacher with a look of disappointment on her face.
‘He doesn’t understand, does he?’ said Tatiana, perhaps noticing how I seemed unable to decide what I should do next. ‘Is he a simpleton, do you think?’
‘Be quiet, Tatiana,’ snapped Anastasia, turning around to look at her sister with an expression of utter contempt. ‘He’s lost, that’s all.’
‘It’s true,’ I said, turning to Monsieur Gilliard, not daring to address the Grand Duchess directly. ‘I am lost.’
‘Well you will not find yourself in here,’ he replied, little knowing how untrue that statement was. ‘Please leave.’
I nodded quickly and offered another quick bow before rushing to the door. Turning around as I closed it behind me, I caught Anastasia’s eye once again. She was still watching me and I detected a flush of colour in her cheeks. In my vanity, I wondered whether she might not be able to concentrate any further on her lesson; I knew that my own evening was lost.
I spent the following afternoon in training with the soldiers once again. Count Charnetsky, who was entirely opposed to my appointment and lost no opportunity to make his displeasure known, had insisted that I spend a month learning the most basic skills which his men had spent years acquiring, and the need to be taught quickly was leaving me drained and weakened by the end of every day. I had spent just short of seven hours astride an efficient charger, learning how to control her with my left hand while brandishing a pistol in my right to fell a potential assassin, and as I passed through Palace Square, my tired legs and trembling arms were driving me towards nothing other than the comfort of my bed.