She could hardly have imagined this elegant carriage. The reality was even more wonderful than her dreams, and made her realize the bleakness of her bedroom in Rosemary’s flat. Nothing had been done to make it inviting or cozy, perhaps because Rosemary was hoping that Sophie’s stay would not be for much longer, that she would get her spare room back.Was all my dreaming, all my imagining, just an attempt to wish that bleak, small life away?she wondered. It was hopeless. Better to admit who she was, to accept that she was not remarkable.
She watched Delphine sit up and braid her hair, every movement precise. She looked somehow “right” in the train carriage. Sophie felt she must look ridiculous by comparison, an impostor. And she wasn’t smart like Marianne, either. She didn’t deserve to be here. She wasn’t special or interesting, however much she wanted to be.
She sat up and moved the blind to one side to peer out. The moon, like a great diamond button, hung low in the sky. Every so often, the forest — which at times was so close that the branches scraped the windows with their snow-laden fingers — opened out into an expanse of moonlight. Sophie glimpsed wooden buildings with low, carved roofs set about with tumbledown fences, everything glimmering with its coating of frost, before the curtain of trees swept back in and extinguished the scene.
She didn’t know how long she remained like that, gazing out at Russia, before she sensed a movement at the doorway. She turned.
“Be careful of the moon, little Sophie,” Ivan Ivanovich whispered. “It will bewitch you. Before you know it, you can no longer live in the day, but only in the world of dreams.”
Sophie was woken by the smell of warm bread and hot chocolate. The train whistle hooted loudly and she felt the carriage begin to slow.
Delphine had tipped her head upside down and was brushing her hair vigorously. She flicked her head back up and her hair cascaded over her shoulders. “When we meet the princess, don’t stare and don’t speak — unless she speaks to you.”
“Good morning to you, too,” said Sophie.
Marianne murmured, “Too early!” into her pillow, and went back to sleep.
Ivan appeared with a tray and boisterously announced, “We have entered the forest!” He put down the tray and pulled up the blinds. “Hurry with your breakfast, young ladies! Next stop, the Volkonsky Winter Palace!”
Sophie had just enough time to eat, dress, and to wake Marianne before the train stopped with a blast of steam. As the cloud cleared, Sophie saw they were surrounded by the scarred, slender trunks of silver birch trees. The Volkonsky forest. That sounded beautiful. But as she looked deeper into the graceful trees, she frowned, feeling something … What was it?
She was still trying to place it when Ivan, now dressed in a full-length sheepskin coat that was belted at the middle, brought in a pile of furs and coats.
“So now we must dress for a Russian winter! First you put your feet into thevalenki.” He held out thick, heavy boots. “Made of felt,” he explained. “They keep your feet warm.”
Delphine, looking as if she didn’t believe him, nonetheless put her feet into the boots.
“And then theshuba.” Ivan held up a felt coat, lined with fur. “For Marianne!” He helped her into the long coat.
Marianne said, “I can’t move my arms.”
Ivan Ivanovich placed a sheepskin hat on her head. “We take a shawl,” he said. “We wrap it over and around theshuba, over your hat, covering as much of your face as we can, and then we cross it, like this, at the back.”
He tied the shawl tightly, then darted across the carriage and started opening drawers in a small dresser. With a flourish, he brought out three boxes. Inside each one was a pair of dark gray gloves. “Sealskin!” he beamed. “Now you will avoid frostbite. The Volkonskys made their fortune from salt and diamonds. But theirfirstfortune was from fur trapping. These are lined with cashmere, and have never been worn!”
“I feel very peculiar,” Marianne whispered to Sophie.
“You look wonderful,” said Sophie, but she couldn’t help giggling.
Ivan Ivanovich held out ashubafor Delphine.
“Thank you, that’s very kind,” she said, pulling on her exquisite gray tweed coat. “But I have my own clothes. I couldn’t meet the princess dressed like —”
“To freeze is not good. You wear theshuba, Delphine” — his voice dropped — “or you die.”
Delphine shrugged, as if she couldn’t care less, but she allowed herself to be dressed, just like Marianne.
Ivan glanced out of the window. “We must hurry!” he said, putting a scarf on Sophie’s head. “We must not keep thevozokwaiting!”
“Thevozok?” Marianne said, pulling the shawl down so that she could speak. “Isn’t that a sort of sleigh?”
“How clever you are, Marianne!” Ivan smiled.
“You mean we’re not at the palace yet?” Delphine asked.
“A short drive along the ice road,” Ivan said.
“A road made out of ice?” Marianne asked. “That doesn’t sound at all safe.”
