“Alix, did you sleep well?” I asked. “I hope my tossing and turning did not disturb you.”
She shook her head, but kept on eating daintily. Elena kicked my foot under the table. I ignored her.
Augusta was staring at her plate. Elena yawned. “You definitely kept me up.”
Alix glanced at Elena, her eyebrow raised slightly. “Perhaps you should pay a visit to Sister Anna. I am sure she could find a way to help you sleep easily.”
Erzsebet threw her fork down, and the clattering noise silenced every other girl in the dining room. “Why isn’t the headmistress doing anything?” she cried, getting up hastily and running out.
Augusta looked horrified. She glanced toward the headmistress’s table, not sure if she should go after her sister or not. Madame Tomilov’s face showed no emotion as she rose calmly from her seat and left after Erzsebet. “Do you think she’ll be expelled?” Augusta whispered. She was blinking back tears.
I grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “I don’t think this is serious enough for that.” I had never heard of anyone being expelled from Smolny.
“Finish eating, girls. It will be time for class soon.” Madame Orbellani’s voice was soothing, but firm. She looked a little tired as well. I wondered how much sleep she had gotten lately.
Whether it was something Elena or Alix was doing, I needed to find out what was happening at Smolny. I remembered the presence I’d sensed in the library the past week. A chill went down my spine. Was the school haunted by a ghost? We’d never felt such a presence before. Why now, when the empress’s spell was supposed to be keeping us all safe from anything supernatural?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
My class in pedagogy was small—only three other girls and myself—in a tiny classroom with Madame Fredericks, an elderly German woman who was more interested in reading Marie Corelli romances than teaching us how to teach others. And I was to begin with a French grammar lesson. That morning was my first class with the Blue Form girls, the form between the youngest Browns and the oldest Whites.
Seventeen girls, ages twelve to fourteen, in royal-blue uniforms sat in a stuffy classroom, staring at me expectantly. My stomach was twisting into knots, even though I’d prepared my notes and reviewed them over and over in bed the night before. I gave them all a brave smile. “Good morning,” I said.
The blank looks on their faces reminded me of the members of the Order of St. Lazarus standing guard outside our school gates. It took everything I had to repress a shudder. It didn’t help that Madame Fredericks was sitting at the back of the room to review my progress. I spoke up a little louder this time, smiling an even braver smile. “Good morning.”
“How do you answer your teacher?” Madame Fredericks said in a gruff, booming voice. She was writing notes in a journal. So much for taking control of my students right from the beginning.
“Good morning, Mademoiselle,” the girls said obediently. Mon Dieu, they even sounded like the undead soldiers. I chose to believe it was because it was so early in the morning.
“My name is Mademoiselle Katerina, and today we are going to study French verbs.” I turned around and picked up a piece of chalk. “Let’s start with one of the easier ones,” I said as I wrote the word aimer on the dusty board. I heard several giggles behind me and smiled to myself. At least they were paying attention. I turned around. “Now we will all say the verb together, and one of you will come up to the front and write it on the board.”
Their voices chanted low and unsteadily. “J’aime, tu aimes, il aime, nous aimons, vous aimez, ils aiment …”
“Excellent,” I said, trying to encourage them. I walked between the aisles of wooden desks, which were probably older than I, and stopped in front of a dark-haired girl with bright-green eyes. In French I asked her name, and then placed the chalk in her hand. “Charlotte, will you write the verbs as we speak them again?”
“Oui, Mademoiselle,” she said, standing up from her desk.
Madame Fredericks was no longer paying attention to the class. She was absorbed in her romance novel. As long as the class continued according to my lesson plan, she would not bother me and I would receive a passing grade.
Charlotte stepped up to the board and raised her chalk, ready for the class to recite their verbs. But before anyone could say anything, her hand moved with a jerk and she began to scrawl across the board, in Russian: STAY OUT OF THE LIBRARY.
The girls gasped. I moved quickly toward Charlotte, who was now standing with a blank stare in front of the board. “Thank you, dear,” I said, erasing the board swiftly. I took the chalk from her hand and guided her gently back to her seat. The temperature had dropped dramatically in the classroom, and I saw several of the students begin to shiver.
Madame Fredericks did not raise her head from her book once. Charlotte still looked a little dazed, so I asked another girl at the desk closest to her to please take her to the nurse.
“Shall we repeat our verbs again?” I asked, praying that I’d erased the message so quickly, no one would remember it. The sudden chill was gone, but I was shaking myself. What had happened to Charlotte? Had she been possessed by the ghost? Was the ghost trying to communicate through her?
A sea of hands shot up. “Mademoiselle Katerina? What is in the library? Did Madame Tomilov make it off-limits? Is it off-limits to the Browns and the Whites as well? Why did Charlotte write that?”
I sighed. I had once again lost control of my class. “I do not know. But I would like to return to the topic of French verbs. Let’s try another one.” I turned around and wrote embrasser on the board. To kiss. Let them giggle at that one. I faced the class again. “Let’s conjugate this one together. “J’embrasse, tu embrasses, il embrasse, nous embrassons …”
I made it through the last fifteen minutes of the lesson with no more strange disruptions. After the students filed out into the hall and headed for their next class, Madame Fredericks stood up and handed my evaluation to me. “Next time, do not allow the students to write on the board,” she told me. “They will do anything to get out of class.”
“Of course, Madame,” I said. I should have been glad that she hadn’t noticed the chill in the room, or the haunted look on Charlotte’s face. But the only emotion I felt at that moment was dull rage. And fear. How could this be happening in spite of the empress’s spell? And why couldn’t I see the ghost? When Madame Fredericks dismissed me, I went straight to Sister Anne to check on Charlotte.
Charlotte’s color was much improved. She was reading her French textbook but looked up and smiled when she saw me. “Bonjour, Mademoiselle Katerina,” she said.
“You look as if you’re feeling better,” I said.
Sister Anne seemed pleased. “You may return to your classes now, Charlotte.”
I walked with the young Blue Form girl on my way to my own classes. “Do you remember what happened this morning?”
Charlotte frowned. “A little. I was standing in front of the chalkboard and the next thing I knew, I felt cold and dizzy. Did I pass out?”
“No,” I assured her. “But you did look as if you might. Do you remember what you wrote on the board?”
She looked up at me, her face full of guilt. “I didn’t write anything. I was supposed to write the French verbs but I never did. Am I in trouble?”
“No, Charlotte. Of course you’re not in trouble. You should probably hurry on to class now.”
A ghost. There was no way I could see its cold light as long as the empress’s spell was in place. I felt helpless. As much as I dreaded it, I realized I would have to return to the library to investigate. The school day dragged on endlessly, through Mathematics, and French, and Domestic Arts, and Music, but at last my classes were over and I headed for the library.