The Gathering Storm CHAPTER EIGHTEEN


I was wrong.

Apparently, being the guest of the tsar's son gives one special privileges. Madame Metcherskey did not scold me after the grand duke nodded in her direction. She did manage to lecture me about the importance of modern propriety and the dangers of appearing in public without a chaperone, no matter how high-bred a gentleman my companion was. Never mind that we had actually been with chaperones for most of the afternoon. Both living and undead.

By that evening, the entire dining hall had heard that I had skipped dance lessons to visit with the imperial family. Elena pouted, wishing I had asked her to walk with me. I was most glad I had not. She need know nothing about Count Chermenensky. Aurora Demidova asked me if the grand duke let me call him by his Christian name, a sign to her that we were close to being formally engaged. Dariya gave her approval. "A much better choice for you than the crown prince," she whispered.

Mon Dieu! As if the grand duke thought of me as a potential grand duchess! I almost choked on my spiced fruit compote. "Not at all. I was only invited to join them because of Grand Duchess Xenia," I told them. "She decided to accompany Princess Alix back to her sister's palace when the princess became ill."

Elena seemed to perk up at that information. I did not know who the tsarevitch favored of the two princesses, Elena or Alix, but I suspected he would be much happier with the latter. Not to mention that she would probably make a better empress.

I did hope I had changed the grand duke's mind toward female doctors after we'd seen the old Austrian physician's gruff incompetence. Perhaps he'd been a little impressed with the way I had handled his injury.

I fell asleep that night with my head on the Latin textbook again. I'd still received no word from the University of Zurich, so I'd sent a letter to the University of Paris as well. Madame Orbel ani told me their admission requirements were even stricter. But I was too stubborn to give up hope.

I dreamed once more of the unholy temple in the Black Mountains of Montenegro. I dreamed of Prince Danilo. He had completed his ascension and had become a Vladiki. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.

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