Zoya

“You have me, little one….” Her grandmother gently stroked her hair as Marie had once done. “You must be strong. They expect it of you. You must, Zoya. We must do what we have to do now.”

“But where will we go?”

“I don't know yet. Nicholas says he will arrange it. Perhaps we can go to Finland. And to France or Switzerland from there.”

“But we don't know anyone there.” She looked horrified as she turned her tear-stained face to Evgenia.

“That is how it is sometimes, my dear. We must trust in God and go when Nicholas tells us.”

“Grandmama, I can't …” She wailed but her grandmother was firm. She was as strong as steel and twice as determined. And Zoya was no match for her, not yet in any case, and they both knew it.

“You can and you will, and you must not say anything to the children. They have their own worries just now. We must not burden them, it wouldn't be fair.”

“What will I say to Mashka?”

Tears filled the old woman's eyes as she looked at the girl she loved so very dearly, and when she spoke it was in a hoarse whisper filled with her own grief for those they had lost and the others they would lose now. “Only tell her how very much you love her.”

CHAPTER

7

Zoya tiptoed into the room where Marie slept, and stood for a long moment watching her. She hated to wake her up, but she couldn't leave without saying good-bye. She couldn't bear to leave her at all, but there was no turning back now. Her grandmother was waiting downstairs, and Nicholas had planned everything for them. They were to take the long Scandinavian route, through Finland and Sweden, and Denmark after that. He had given Evgenia the names of friends of his Danish aunt, and Feodor was coming with them to keep them safe. Everything had been decided. All that remained was a last farewell to her friend. She watched her stir feverishly beneath the sheets, and then Marie opened her eyes, and smiled at the familiar face, while Zoya tried valiantly not to cry.

“How do you feel?” she whispered in the silent room. Although Anastasia was sleeping in another room with her two sisters, all of them were slowly improving. Only Marie remained very ill, but Zoya tried not to think of it now. She could not think of anything, couldn't allow herself to look back or even ahead, there was nothing to look forward to now. There was only this … one tiny last moment with her dearest friend as gently she reached out to her and touched her cheek. “Mashka …” Marie tried to sit up in bed and looked oddly at her friend.

“Is something wrong?”

“No … I … I'm going back to St. Petersburg with my grandmother.” She had promised Alix that she wouldn't tell her the truth, it would be too much for her just then. But Marie looked worried anyway. She had always had a sixth sense about her friend, as she did now. She reached out and took Zoya's hand and held it tightly in her own much too warm one.

“Is it safe?”

“Of course,” Zoya lied, and tossed back her red hair. “Your father wouldn't let us go if it weren't safe.” … please God, don't let me cry now … please … she handed her the water glass and Marie pushed it away, meeting her friend's eyes.

“Something's happening, isn't it? You're going somewhere.”

“Just home for a few days … I'll be back soon.” She leaned forward then and took Marie in her arms and held her close as tears filled her eyes. “You must get better now. You've been sick for far too long.” They held each other close, and she was smiling brightly as she pulled away, knowing that they were waiting for her.

“Will you write to me?”

“Of course.” She couldn't bring herself to leave, she just stood there staring at her, wanting to drink it all in, to hold on to all of it, the feel of her friend's hand, the smoothness of the sheets, the look in her huge blue eyes. “I love you, Mashka.” Her words were whisper soft … “I love you so very much …”

“So do I.” Marie lay back on her pillow then with a sigh. It was exhausting just to sit up and talk, and then she coughed horribly as Zoya held her.

“Please get well …” She bent one last time to kiss her cheek and felt the soft curls beneath her hand, and then quickly she turned away and walked to the door, turning for a last time with a silent wave, but Marie's eyes were closed again, and Zoya slowly closed the door, her heart tearing from her very soul as she bent her head and cried silently. She had bid the others good-bye half an hour before, and she stopped now for only an instant outside little Alexis's room. Nagorny was there with him, and Pierre Gilliard, and Dr. Fedorov was just leaving him.

“May I go in?” She wiped the tears from her cheeks and he touched her arm in silent sympathy.