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He closed his eyes. “I shouldn’t. I’ve probably said too much.”

I sighed. This was getting us nowhere. If George wouldn’t, or couldn’t, tell me about the French wizards, then who would?

George stood up and began to pace. He ran his fingers through his hair. “Maybe seeing you here tonight wasn’t a good idea. I’ve probably put you in more danger.”

I stood up too. “From whom? Konstantin? Or the wizards?”

“I should go.” His face was troubled. He seemed to be fighting with himself.

“No!” I grabbed his arm as he tried to turn away. He might have lost weight, but his arms were still muscular. I could not imagine what he’d been doing in Paris to build up such strength.

Gently, he took my hand and raised it to his lips. “I will not endanger you, Katiya. You mean too much to me.” With another gentle kiss, this time on my forehead, he said, “Please be careful. Stay close to your brother until you return to Smolny.”

“Wait. When will I see you again?” I was trying hard not to cry. My eyes were stinging, and my throat was sore.

“When it’s not dangerous anymore. I promise.” With a sad smile, he turned and walked off.

I held out until I no longer heard his footsteps, then sank back down onto the bench and gave in to the tears. Each time he left me, I was afraid it would be the last time I would see him.

To the devil with His Imperial Highness, I thought with an unladylike sniffle. I would find out what the Inner Circle was doing without his help.

I heard someone enter the winter garden. I could tell it was a woman by the swishing of her heavy skirts.

“Katerina Alexandrovna?” someone whispered. It was Aunt Zina.

“Yes?” I hurriedly wiped the tears from my face.

“Your mother is frantic! She’s been looking all over for you. Mon Dieu, what is wrong, dearest?”

“I’m fine,” I said, standing quickly.

Aunt Zina eyed me suspiciously. “It’s a boy, isn’t it? Has someone broken your heart?” She sat down and leaned forward, a greedy look on her face. “Tell me all about it, Katerina. I promise I won’t tell your mother.”

I forced myself to laugh. “Oh no, it’s nothing like that. Let’s go back to the ball.”

“Are you certain? I think you could use some air first. Perhaps just a quick walk outside in the courtyard?”

I started to open the glass door, and stopped. I remembered what had happened the year before, when George and Count Chermenensky had saved me from Princess Cantacuzene’s undead soldier. It pained me to think of it. I turned away from the door. “I think I’d rather have something warm to drink. Will you come with me?”

“Of course, dearest.” She rose with a small, half-feral smile. I knew she belonged completely to Miechen’s court. The glamour was no longer hiding her fae eyes from me. I sighed. One more person in St. Petersburg I had to watch closely.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

I followed Petya around the house like a puppy, waiting for a chance to talk to him about the Inner Circle of the Order. He was keeping odd hours, sleeping all day and staying out past the early hours of the morning. I did not know if he was working on things related to the Order or just having fun with his friends. It was the holiday season, after all. He was evasive when I asked him.

Dariya and her father and stepmother came to our house for Christmas dinner after the mass. Aunt Zina smiled at me over the dinner table and kindly asked how my heart was. Maman and Papa both looked at me curiously. Dariya too.

“It’s as healthy as ever.” I did not look at her again for the whole meal.

My uncle discussed the plans for the new medical institute with my father. They had begun construction on the building, and Papa hoped to have the Oldenburg Institute of Experimental Medicine open sometime in the coming year. I sighed, poking at my Christmas pudding halfheartedly. I wished I could be one of the physicians working at his institute. I wanted to treat patients as well, but researching cures for deadly diseases would be fascinating.

After dessert we went into the drawing room and opened presents. Papa had given me a set of Greek and Latin books, and from Maman I received another Marie Corelli romance. I gave them each a scarf that I had knitted.

Maman gasped with delight when she opened Aunt Zina’s present: a book written in French on communicating with spirits. As if my mother needed any more information on that subject. I glanced at Dariya, who shrugged as she stroked Sasha’s ragged ears. The cat purred even as it glared at me. Dariya did not seem to notice anything wrong with the rotting animal that was purring unsteadily in her lap. She had never been interested in the spiritism parties my mother held before, but now that she was considered a young woman, she was admitted to all the best social gatherings in St. Petersburg, and she’d been to several of Maman’s séances. With Aunt Zina.

I’d received several letters from Dariya over the past few months while I was at Smolny, and they’d all described fancy dinner parties and séances that she’d attended. Dariya was now obsessed with finding a rich and handsome husband. Aunt Zina was attempting to keep her allied with the Dark Court and Grand Duchess Miechen. I hoped that my cousin would find a handsome, foreign prince and move far away to somewhere much safer.

“Oh, Katiya, look at this! What a treasure!” Maman exclaimed, smoothing the black leather cover of her book. It looked ancient, but well cared for. I would have loved to know where Aunt Zina had gotten her hands on such a volume. And why was she so interested in Maman’s séances?

“This gift is for you, dearest,” Aunt Zina said, handing me a brightly wrapped package.

“Merci,” I said, unwrapping it warily. It was a book about magical orders: L’histoire de l’ordre du Lis Noir. The History of the Order of the Black Lily. “You are too kind,” I said, wondering how she knew I would be interested in such things.

“I hope you enjoy it. The Grand Duchess Miechen and I were shopping for Christmas presents, and she said it looked like something you would appreciate.”

A chill slid down the back of my neck. Miechen. It made me nervous that I could not guess the dark faerie’s motives. I knew I owed her a debt for my Christmas holiday. Would I owe her another debt for this book? Or was it somehow linked to the way I was to repay the grand duchess? I would read it as soon as everyone left.

My brother prepared to leave not long after we finished opening presents. “Where on earth are you headed?” Maman asked. “Petya, it’s Christmas!”

He was dressed in his regiment uniform. “I have to go, Maman. I’m sorry.” He kissed her on the cheek and then bowed to the rest of us in the room. “Happy Christmas, everyone.”

I was disappointed. Each night I had tried to stay awake and catch him when he came home, but I kept falling asleep. My holiday would be over soon and I would have to return to Smolny. I would never get a chance to talk to my brother about the Order of St. John.

Aunt Zina and the others left not long after Petya. Dariya gave me a hug, thanking me for the diary I’d given her. “I hope to see you when the winter season begins. Will your mother let you come home from school to attend a few of the balls? And the ballet?”

“We shall see,” I said, giving her an optimistic smile. I had no doubts that the empress wanted me locked up at Smolny as soon as possible. But when would she be willing to release me again? When the tsar needed me to summon the bogatyr? I could not wish for such a thing.

As soon as our guests left, I kissed my parents goodnight and took my Christmas gifts back to my room. I curled up with the book from Aunt Zina, not even bothering to change into my nightclothes.