“So you are making this decision with your head and not with your heart,” Dr. Badmaev said, blowing the steam off his cup of tea.
I sighed. “My heart would break if I did not do everything in my power to save George.”
“And when will you tell him your decision?”
That I hadn’t decided yet. I sipped my tea and closed my eyes, wishing for more clarity. I knew George deserved to know as soon as possible. And the tsar deserved my answer in person.
“I think now is the perfect time, Duchess.” It was not the doctor’s but George’s angry voice that made me open my eyes in alarm.
7
George Alexandrovich was standing in the doorway of Dr. Badmaev’s office. He did not look happy. “Katiya, why did you not wait for me last night? Didn’t my father give you his blessing?”
Dr. Badmaev stood up quickly. “Forgive me, Your Imperial Highness, but I must get back to my patients.” With a quick bow to the grand duke and an encouraging smile toward me, he withdrew from the room, leaving us alone.
I stared into my teacup, refusing to meet George’s eye. “How on earth did you know to find me here?” I asked him.
“The imperial guard has orders to watch your movements, Katiya. They always know where you are.”
A sick feeling rose in my stomach. “So you’ve known about my studies with Dr. Badmaev? And the tsar knows as well?” There truly were no secrets left untouched in St. Petersburg.
He nodded as he sat down in the chair next to me. “I understand what you’re trying to do, but it won’t work. My illness was caused by dueling with the crown prince at Vorontsov Palace. Blood magic wounded me. Medicine cannot help me.”
“But I believe Eastern medicine can,” I protested. “Dr. Badmaev is the one who cured the Koldun after I brought him back from the Graylands. Remember how awful he looked? Eastern medicine treats the spirit as well as the body. Please let the Tibetan doctor examine you.”
“My parents have expressly forbidden it,” he said. “Badmaev is the Dark Court’s physician. Besides, the Light Court has all of St. Petersburg’s finest trained physicians at hand.”
“None of whom can do a thing for you,” I said. “I have learned so much from Dr. Badmaev. Not enough to cure you, I know, but I’m certain that soon I’ll know what to do to make you better. If the tsar will not allow the Tibetan to treat you, then allow me to help you.”
“Marry me, Katiya. That is the best way for you to make me better.” He took the teacup out of my hand and set it on the table. Grasping my hands in his, he looked up at me. “Make me a happy man.”
He would force me to have this conversation right now. “George, if something were to happen to you and I could have prevented it by continuing my studies, I couldn’t live with myself. I love you too much.”
“What are you saying?” There was a flash of silver in his eyes.
“If your father will not change his mind about my becoming a doctor,” I said, dragging the words out and hating myself for what I said next, “then I cannot marry you.”
George’s face darkened. “Katiya, the tsar does not change his mind.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, trying very hard not to cry in front of him.
He stood up so abruptly that I thought he was going to break something. Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his hair. “Why must you be so hardheaded?”
“Why must
He touched my cheek. “Katiya, I’d rather be damned with you than live a blessed life without you.”
I held his hand in both of mine and kissed his knuckles. I did not even bother trying to stop the tears anymore. They were falling too fast. “Georgi, please don’t say that. You know you don’t mean it.”
He looked sad. “I asked you not to give up on me last year. And I believed that you had not. Why now? When our happiness is within reach? Or was I just dreaming?” But he did not wait for me to answer. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead, murmuring, “Goodbye, Katiya,” against my skin.
I didn’t respond. I stood shaking, dazed and in shock, and watched him leave, listened to his boots echo down the wooden hallway as he left Dr. Badmaev’s office. I heard the bells on the door tinkle as he opened it and walked out. Did he truly believe I’d given up on him? On us? Why couldn’t he understand that what I was doing was out of love? Had I lost him for good?
Masha returned to pick up the tea things. She hurried across the room as soon as she saw me crying. “Duchess? Are you all right? Duchess?”
I blinked slowly at her, ignoring the tears rolling down my cheeks. “Masha, what have I done?”
8
Masha, the poor old thing, did not know how to comfort me. I went to the washstand and dried my face. There was nothing left for me to do but dig back into my research. I spent the rest of the day finishing my studies of the respiratory system. Badmaev was pleased with my progress. He assigned me readings on the endocrine system.
I rode the tram home, not bothering to get off at the stop before the Field of Mars. Let my parents see me mingling with the commoners. Let them learn why I threw away the chance to become a grand duchess. I did not care anymore. It would not be long before the whole of St. Petersburg’s aristocracy knew what a fool I was.
Maman met me on the stairs. “Katiya, where on earth have you been? Don’t try to tell me you’ve been with Dariya, because I refuse to believe it!”
There was no point in deceiving her any longer. I took off my hat and gloves as I climbed the stairs to my room. “I’ve been at the Tibetan doctor’s clinic.”
“A doctor? Are you sick?” She followed me into my room.
“Does it matter?” My heart was broken. I felt wretched.
“Of course it does. We’re to attend the ballet this evening. And you still have not told me what the tsar wanted to speak to you about last night.”
I sank down onto my bed and realized right then I wanted nothing more than my mother to comfort me. “George asked me to marry him, and the tsar has given us permission,” I told her, “but he said I will have to abandon my dreams of becoming a doctor. So I had to turn the grand duke down.”
Maman stared at me, speechless for several seconds. There. My last secret was out.
“George?” she whispered. “George Alexandrovich?”
Had she truly not noticed the way we gravitated toward each other? Whenever I was in trouble, it seemed the tsar’s son was always there to scowl at me. Or to rescue me. I began to tear up again. I was so sick of crying over him. And I missed him so much it hurt.
Maman moved toward me and wrapped me in her arms. “My sweet Katiya. My dearest. I don’t pretend to understand why you have made such a decision, but if it’s making you unhappy, why not change it? I’m sure the young grand duke is not happy right now either.”
“I know you can’t understand, Maman,” I said, closing my eyes until the tears were all squeezed out.
She smoothed my hair and rocked me as if I were a baby. “Perhaps this is a spiritual test of some sort. Should we consult the tarot cards?”
“No, Maman. I think I’ve already failed this test. But I am not going to give up my studies now. It’s too late to
