Zoya

At Tsarskoe Selo, the Empress had her own hands full. The children were still feverish, with Marie the worst of all, and Anna was still sick too. The mutinous soldiers arrived in the village by late that afternoon, but fearing the palace guard, they satisfied themselves with looting in the village, and shooting anyone and everyone at random.

The children could hear the shots from the sickroom, and Alexandra told them repeatedly that it was only their own soldiers on maneuvers. But that night, she sent word to Nicholas, begging him to come home. Still not understanding how truly desperate they all were, he chose to return by the longest route, not wishing to interfere with the routes used by the troop trains. It was inconceivable to him then that he no longer had a loyal army. Both the Garde Equipage and the imperial guard, mostly composed of personal friends, whose mission had always been to guard the Tsar and Tsarina and their children, had left their posts. Even the soldiers from the garrison at Tsarskoe Selo had deserted and betrayed them. And St. Petersburg had fallen. It was Wednesday, March 14, and an entire world had changed overnight. It was almost impossible to conceive of the overall implications.

The ministers and generals were urging Nicholas to abdicate in favor of his son, keeping Grand Duke Michael as regent. But the frantic telegrams being sent to Nicholas on his way back from the front, explaining the situation to him, were getting no answer. And in the midst of his silence, Zoya and her grandmother were equally without news. Konstantin had not been home in two days and there was no way to get news of him. It was only when Feodor finally braved the streets, that he came home to tell them the dreadful news Evgenia had feared for days. Konstantin was dead. He had died at the Winter Palace with the last of the loyal troops, killed by his own men. There wasn't even a body to bring home to them. He had been disposed of along with countless others. Feodor returned with tears streaming down his face and sobbed openly as he told Evgenia what had happened to Konstantin. Zoya stared at him in horror, as they listened to him, and her grandmother spun around and ordered the maids to sew more quickly. All of her jewels had been hidden by then and Natalya's too, and the rest of it would have to be left behind, as she made another rapid decision. They were going to bury Nicolai in the garden. Evgenia and Feodor and three of the younger men went back to the main house, and stood silently in his room. He had been dead for three days and they could not wait any longer. Evgenia was solemn and dry-eyed as she stared at him, thinking of her own son now. It was too late for tears, she wanted to cry for all of them, but she had to think of Zoya now, and for Konstantin's sake, Natalya.

As they prepared to move the body, Natalya appeared like a ghost, drifting through the halls wearing a long white robe, with uncombed hair and mad eyes as she stared at them. “Where are you going with my baby?” She looked imperiously at her mother-in-law, and it was clear to all that she had lost her mind. She seemed not even to recognize Zoya. “What are you doing, you fool?” She reached out a clawlike hand to stop the men from taking him, but the old Countess held her back, and looked into her eyes.

“You must come with us, Natalya.”

“But where are you taking my baby?”

Evgenia refused to answer her, it would only confuse her more or make her hysterical again. She had always had a weak mind, and without Konstantin to indulge her and shield her from the truth, she could no longer cope. She was totally mad, and Zoya knew it as she watched her.

“Put on your clothes, Natalya. We are going out.”

“Where?”

Zoya was stunned when she heard the words. “To Tsarskoe Selo.”

“But we can't possibly go there. It's summertime, and everyone is at Livadia.”

“We'll go there eventually. But we must go to Tsarskoe Selo first. Now, we are going to get dressed, aren't we?” She grasped her firmly by the arm, and signaled to Zoya to take the other.

“Who are you?” She pulled her arm away from the frightened girl, and only her grandmother's sharp eyes on her kept Zoya from fleeing in terror from the woman who had once been her mother. “Who are you?” she asked again and again of both of them, and the old woman answered her calmly. In four days she had lost both her son and grandson to a revolution none of them fully understood. But there was no time to question it now. She knew they had to leave St. Petersburg before it was too late. And if nowhere else, she knew they would be safe at Tsarskoe Selo. But Natalya was refusing to cooperate with them. She insisted that she was staying, her husband would be home at any time, and they were giving a party.