was the sickest now, with pneumonia, which had resulted from the measles. She had a fearful cough that racked her body again and again, and a fever that would not seem to abate, as Zoya sat ever near her.
“Mashka … have a little drink … just for me …
“I can't … my throat hurts so much.” She could barely speak and her skin was hot and dry as Zoya touched her. She bathed her brow in lilac water, and spoke softly to her about their tennis games the previous summer at Livadia.
“Remember the silly picture your papa took of everyone hanging upside down. I brought it with me … Mashka, do you want to see it?”
“Later … my eyes hurt so much, Zoya … I feel awful.”
“Shh·. just try to sleep … I'll show you the picture when you wake up” She even brought little Sava in to cheer her, but Marie wasn't interested in anything. Zoya only hoped that she would be well enough to travel to Murmansk, and take the ship to England. They were leaving in three weeks, and Nicholas said everyone had to be well by then. He called it his final imperial order, which made everyone cry. He tried so hard to make everyone feel better about things, and keep the children happy. Both he and Alix looked more worn each day, but it was three days later that Zoya glimpsed him in the hall outside the mauve boudoir and his face was ghostly white. An hour later she knew why. His English cousin had refused to receive him, for reasons that were as yet unclear. But the imperial family would not be leaving for England. Originally he had asked Zoya and the old Countess to go with them, but now no one knew what would happen.
“What will happen, Grandmama?” Zoya asked her that night with terrified eyes. What if they were just going to keep them there at Tsarskoe Selo and then finally kill them.
“I don't know, little one. Nicholas will tell us when it is decided. They'll probably go to Livadia.”
“Do you think they'll kill us?”
“Don't be stupid.” But she feared the same thing. There were no easy answers now. Even the English had failed him. There was nowhere else for them to go, nowhere safe. The route to Livadia was perilous at best, she guessed. They were trapped now at Tsarskoe Selo. And Nicholas always seemed so calm, and he urged everyone not to worry, but how could they not?
It was the next morning when Zoya tiptoed silently from the room and looked down from the window to see Nicholas and her grandmother walking slowly in the snow-filled garden. There seemed to be no one else around, and as she stared at them, he with his straight, proud shoulders, and her grandmother so tiny, a figure in a stark black cloak against the snow, she thought that she saw her grandmother crying, and then gently he embraced her and they disappeared around the corner of the palace.
Zoya went to the room they shared and a little while later her grandmother returned, her heart heavy, her eyes sad, as she sank slowly into a chair and looked at her lovely granddaughter. Only weeks before she had seemed to be a child, and now suddenly she seemed so wise and sad. She was thinner and seemed more delicate to the eye, but her grandmother knew that the horrors of the past weeks would only help to make her stronger. She would need her strength now. They all would.
“Zoya …” She didn't know how to tell her, but she knew that Nicholas was right. And she had to think of Zoya's safety. She had a long life ahead of her, and her grandmother would gladly have given her own to protect it.
“Grandmother, is something wrong?” In the light of what had happened in the past two weeks, it seemed a ridiculous question, but she sensed further disaster was impending.
“I have just spoken to Nicholas, Zoya Konstantinovna … he wants us to leave now … while we still can….”
Her eyes instantly filled with tears and she leapt to her feet in terror. “Why? We said we would stay here with them, and they will all be leaving soon … won't they, Grandmama? … won't they? …” The old woman didn't answer, she weighed the balance between truth and lie and truth won, as it always did with her.
“I don't know. With the English refusing to take