“That would be a waste of her talents,” Papa said as he and the doctor reached the patient’s bed. “She will be a brilliant doctor someday. Think of the discoveries she will make in her lifetime!”
Sister Anna scowled. “ ’Tis not natural for a lady to learn such things. An overeducated mind is open to too many temptations.”
“There are lots of women who have become wonderful doctors, Sister,” I said.
“Witches and harlots,” she hissed. Sister Anna grabbed the washrag away from me and began roughly wiping down the soldier.
Dr. Ostrev tried to spare me the older woman’s lecture. “Will you see to the dirty linens, Sister Anna?”
“Of course, Doctor,” she said, bowing graciously. With a swish of her skirts, she and the bundle of bed linens were gone.
“I apologize for that,” Dr. Ostrev said. “But if you are serious about becoming a doctor, you must get used to hearing such sentiments. I knew a young woman from Odessa who gave up on her dreams because she couldn’t bear the way the older nurses treated her as a young female doctor.”
Papa looked at me and nodded. “He has a point, Katiya. Sister Anna is not the only one who will try to discourage you.”
“I understand. It truly does not bother me,” I said with a smile. But I wondered how long my dedication would last if I had to continually endure such negativity.
I took the basket of fruit that Maman had sent and followed Sister Elizabeth, who was much kinder than Sister Anna, into the women’s ward. At the end of the long row of beds, I was startled to see a familiar but sad face: Madame Metcherskey. She had lost weight and looked even paler and more severe than before. I gasped.
“Poor dear,” Sister Elizabeth said, straightening her blankets. Madame Metcherskey coughed, but did not open her eyes. “She has a failing heart. She is dying.”
“Dying?” I whispered. I could not imagine anything ever striking down the indomitable and strong woman. This was not the same woman who had terrorized the girls of Smolny into studying their history. This was only a hollow shell of the woman she used to be.
Slowly, Madame Metcherskey opened her eyes, fixing her stare on me. Her wits were still with her. She recognized me immediately. “Katerina Alexandrovna. The troublemaker,” she croaked.
When I took her cold hand in mine, her fingers clutched mine instantly. Her grip was still strong. “Madame. I’m so sorry for causing you such grief.”
“Never mind about that.” She tried to pull me closer to her. Her voice was raspy and hoarse. “Don’t let the other girls repeat your mistakes.”
“Which mistakes?” I whispered. Goodness knows I’d made too many over the years. Especially in her eyes.
“All light is not good, Katerina Alexandrovna,” she said, letting go of my hand and closing her eyes. “And all shadows are not evil.”
“Madame?” I looked up at the nurse in alarm as she checked Madame’s pulse. “Is she dead?” I whispered. Her cold light was blinding white and stinging my fingers.
Sister Elizabeth shook her head. “She’s just sleeping again.”
Madame Metcherskey drew in a rattly breath just then, as if to prove to me it was true. Her breathing became shallow, but steady. Sister Elizabeth smiled kindly at me. “She needs her rest now, dear.”
Madame’s words frightened me. All light is not good. Could she have seen her own cold light? I’d never known anyone who was able to see it. But I’d never known anyone who was dying either. I reached down and gave Madame’s fingers one last squeeze and left her to rejoin my father.
How much simpler my life had been years ago when Madame Metcherskey, glaring at me for running in the halls, was my worst nightmare. Now the nightmares were so much worse.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
It was not long before the end of the holidays was upon us. I was to return to Smolny the day after the Blessing of the Waters, an annual tradition that brought all of St. Petersburg to the frozen Neva River. Since it was to be my last day of freedom, I planned to make the best of it. I dressed warmly, with an extra layer of stockings and petticoats under my woolen dress. Anya looked at me suspiciously as she fixed my hair. “Don’t go looking for any danger, Duchess.”
“I promise I’ll be careful, Anya. But there are some things I must take care of before I go back to school.”
I rode with Maman in our handsome black carriage. Papa and Petya would be there already with their respective regiments. This was a military as well as a religious ceremony, where the tsar cut out a piece of the frozen Neva River and lifted up a cup of water from below for the metropolitan of St. Petersburg to bless. There would be thousands of people there, and I hoped for a chance to slip away without Maman realizing I’d left.
The sky was gray and mournful, as if in memory of the tragedy surrounding last year’s blessing, when Count Chermenensky had been thrown from his horse. Every year we prayed the running of the troops would be free of accidents. I worried most for my father and brother.
Aunt Zina and Dariya were waiting under a fur-lined tent that was close to the Imperial Pavilion. I did not see George standing up there with his family. My heart sank a little. I wanted to ask him about the current leadership of the Order, and wasn’t sure who else would know. The membership of the Inner Circle of the Order was a closely guarded secret. Not all of St. Petersburg was aware the Koldun existed.
Aunt Zina waved to attract Maman’s attention. Thousands of troops were assembled smartly across the river, their horses stomping in the snow impatiently.
“Hurry!” Aunt Zina called. “The ceremony is about to start!”
I could see Grand Duchess Miechen standing opposite the empress under her own pavilion, draped in midnight-blue silk. She did not usually attend the blessing. I wondered what had drawn the Dark Court to make an appearance on such a dismal and cold day? Grand Duke Vladimir, the grand duchess’s husband, and brother to the tsar, stood with her. His steely gray eyes looked colder than the frozen river.
I shivered as the grand duchess’s gaze swept across the crowd, and she caught my eye with a small, regal smile. I wished with all my heart that I could swear total allegiance to the Light Court and rid myself of my debt to Miechen. But my family would still have ties to her court, and I could not leave them unprotected. Bitterly I wondered how different my life would have been if my parents had been aligned with the Light Court all along. It was no use wishing, however. I did not believe in fate, but somehow, I knew my life was following some dark design.
I touched Maman’s shoulder. “There is an old friend I must greet.” I slipped back into the crowd, not bothering to wait for a reply. She would worry, and I would get into trouble, but the Dark Court has a saying: It is easier to ask forgiveness than to ask permission.
I hurried through the crowd, pushing against the townspeople that crowded the riverbank hoping for a glance at the tsar. Some looked at me as if I were insane, trying to get farther away from the Imperial Pavilion. Others ignored me, and pressed closer.
I broke into a run when I reached Nevski Prospekt. My destination was not far away: Lazarev Cemetery. I had my respects to pay. I spent the last of my Christmas coins on a small bouquet of violets from a street vendor and entered the cemetery. Even the crunch of the snow beneath my boots did not disturb the peace I felt as soon as I passed the cemetery gates. The trees were barren, of course, but the tombs were still difficult to read. It had only been a few months since Dr. Kruglevski’s funeral, but it seemed to me like a lifetime had passed since then. I made my way to his grave and brushed the snow aside to lay the flowers there. I crossed myself and said a short prayer for my old friend.