“Geiiiiiiiiiii!”
Ivan had the whip. Princess Volkonskaya tore the reins from his hands, laughing, and let the horse have his head.
The furious snort of Viflyanka, the jangle of the bells, corresponded to the lurch of thevozokon the snow. The girls hung on to each other, their shawls tied tight around their faces. Sophie felt invigorated by the crisp, freezing air and being driven at such speed through the tremulous half-light, though she had reasoned it must be mid-morning by now. The windows of the palace slipped by, and Sophie turned her face upward to the light, snowflakes spiraling down onto her face and the bearskin that covered the girls.
They had been woken by the princess herself, already dressed in a long coat, a white mink turban on her head. They had breakfasted on spiced apples, the princess telling them to hurry, and before they could finish, she had led them through corridors, tying lace, rather than a shawl, across her face against the cold.
As Ivan had opened the wide front door to the morning twilight, the snow sparkled and the wind sighed. Sophie had thought about the wolf she had seen the night before. Should she say something? Surely, if there was a wolf in the woods, they would need to know?
Then whydidn’tshe say something? Why did she want to keep the knowledge to herself? This morning, she told herself, she couldn’t be sure what she had seen. Had there really been a white wolf, or was it just her imagination? Had she been affected by the romance and savagery of the palace’s history, the mesmerizing presence of Princess Anna Feodorovna? What was it about her? Sophie wondered as she watched the woman climb into the driver’s seat. Why did the princess affect her in such a way? She wanted to be always in her company, felt bereft when the princess wasn’t looking at her, yet almost frightened by that penetrating gray gaze.
“Stop staring,” Delphine had whispered as they were called forward to climb into the back of thevozok. “The princess will think you’re being rude.”
Thevozoklurched around the corner of the palace now, and Delphine and Marianne squealed in alarm. Viflyanka headed for the woods, charging past the stables set behind high, ornate railings. Sophie glimpsed the dilapidated buildings where Viflyanka must sleep. She thought of the boy, Dmitri, and as if she had conjured him out of the air with her thoughts, he walked across the deep snow, an ax in one hand, a large metal bucket in the other. Yes! It was the boy! Dmitri! They raced past, and he looked up at the sound of the bells and Ivan’s cries of encouragement to the fast-moving horse. His face was alight with curiosity.
Sophie wanted to wave and laugh and tell him they’d be back soon, that they were going skating with the princess, and she didn’t care that she wasn’t supposed to talk to him … But she didn’t dare, even though the princess was looking straight ahead, intent on making Viflyanka charge even faster toward the forest. Sophie remembered the look on her face when she had called the boy a dirtydomovoi.
Dmitri stood quite still, watching them. He had a kind expression, Sophie thought. Like the best sort of older brother.
“That’s the boy from yesterday,” she said to Marianne.
“What’s he doing with an ax?” At least, that was what Sophie thought she had said. It was hard to hear above the bells and with shawls across their faces and ears.
She watched him take something out from the bucket. It was wrapped in burlap. Then he stood back, and raised the ax with a loose, practiced swing. She thought he must be chopping wood. But when he brought the ax down, she saw it was not wood at all, but the limb of a dead animal. She turned her face away, horrified, just as thevozoklurched to one side.
Ivan put his hand on the princess’s arm as if to restrain her.
She shook it off. “Leave me alone, Ivan!” she cried. “I drive thisvozokbetter than you!”
The girls looked at each other.
“How can she think that?” Marianne said in a low voice.
“It doesn’t matter what she thinks,” Delphine replied. “She’s a princess. She can do what she likes.”
“No one can do what they likeallthe time,” Sophie said.
“Maybe you can if you own all this.” Delphine looked at the forest looming ahead of them. She pulled down her shawl and leaned forward to speak to the princess. Her nose was already pink with cold. “How large is the estate?”
The princess, reining Viflyanka in to a brisk trot as they entered the woods, shrugged. “It goes on for many miles,” she called back. “No one really knows anymore.”
Sophie looked deep into the scarred trunks of the silver birches. Was this where the wolf had run to last night? Was he in there still, watching them?
“The Volkonskys came here to hunt.” The princess flicked the reins. “Wolves … and bears …”
“Wolves?” Sophie said. “But Ivan said —”
“Has Ivan been telling you stories about the Volkonsky wolves?” The princess didn’t sound amused.
“Princess, I —” Ivan began.
“The next story he will tell you” — she took a moment to wrestle with Viflyanka, who was sweating, waves of white foam on his neck — “is about the Volkonsky diamonds!”
“Diamonds?” Delphine looked interested. “There are diamonds?”
The princess was quiet for a moment, then said, “The Volkonskys owned a necklace of priceless diamonds — long enough to hang a man. It was given to the last princess by her adoring young husband on the occasion of their marriage.”
“Will you show it to us?” Delphine asked.
