Mama’s idea.
“I can’t sit still forever,” Mama said. “My grandmother birthed my mama in the fields and continued working. To keep my coveted position on the estate, I mustn’t give the Countess cause to dispose of me. Sometimes your dear papa can’t see beyond his nose.”
Mama didn’t need to explain
that
to me. I had my own problems with Papa.
“We should start your apprenticeship while Bohdan’s sleeping.”
“Must we?” I asked in a deflated voice.
Mama put her arms around me. “I know it isn’t easy to give up the dogs. But your papa’s right that you’ll need to learn a skill that’s useful for marriage.”
Hearing the word
marriage
tormented me in the same way as did watching a sick dog suffer a long and painful death.
I put Bohdan’s
soska
back into his mouth to suck on, and then I checked his diaper and found a poopy mess. The smell was so dreadful I held my breath and quickly cleaned his plump bottom, wishing all the while we couldhang turpentine rags above his cradle. I swaddled him in a clean cloth diaper and kissed his feet before bundling him up from head to toe.
With Bohdan cooing, snuggled up to my chest, we kept each other warm along our journey to Mama’s sewing studio. Papa’s footsteps had helped pack down the snow, forming a path for us. My eyes wandered toward the kennel and searched for some sign of the dogs.
“You must miss Zar,” Mama said.
“You need me more than he does.” Even though I resented Bohdan for taking what I cherished most away from me, it was hard not to love him. He was an easy baby and the littlest things made him happy.
Mama tenderly touched Bohdan’s capped head. “For now, that’s true.”
The jingle of horses’ bells, hundreds of soft timbres, filled the air. Mama and I turned around to see a gilded sleigh approaching, led by a troika of the Count’s Orlov Trotters yoked together.
“The Countess must be returning from the Imperial Ball,” Mama said.
Boris pulled up on the reins to stop the horses and nodded to Mama and me.
“What are you doing out in the cold and with the baby no less?” the Countess asked. She removed her hand from the inside of her muff and, in one grand sweep, she motioned for us to join her.
“It’s really not necessary. We enjoy the fresh air,” Mama said. “We’ve been cooped up for days.”
“I insist,” the Countess said. “Come join me for tea. I want to visit with your little one.”
Once we were settled inside the sleigh, Boris clucked his tongue, and with a slight crack of his knout, he coaxed the white horses into a spirited trot. I pulled the thick bear-hide blanket over Bohdan to protect him from the brisk air. Heaven forbid he came down with a cold.
The Countess pinched Bohdan’s cheeks. “My goodness, he’s precious. How is he faring?”
“Bohdan’s growing every day,” Mama answered.
“Such a lovely name,” the Countess said.
“And he coos like a bird. Listen,” I said.
The Countess leaned in. “Indeed, he does!”
“Was the ball spectacular?” Mama asked.
“It becomes grander each year, with more and more exotic foods covering the tables, more toasts, and plenty of dancing until dawn. Nobody—excluding the Tsarina—was dressed as smartly as I.”
Mama’s face turned as red as a bowl of
borscht
.
To save Mama from turning redder, I blurted, “Alexander caught one of the wolves.”
“Really? His father will be proud!” the Countess said. “Though I’d much prefer that he give up the dogs and give me some grandchildren.”
We entered through the grand doors of the four-storystone manor and were greeted by yips and yaps from Almaz, a fluffy white toy poodle—the one Papa thought would perform better on a hunt than Zar. The Countess picked him up to quiet him, and then excused herself to freshen up. The valet led us into the grand receiving room, where specimens from past hunts surrounded us. Covering the walls were the heads of aurochs, bear, lynx, wild
“I can’t sit still forever,” Mama said. “My grandmother birthed my mama in the fields and continued working. To keep my coveted position on the estate, I mustn’t give the Countess cause to dispose of me. Sometimes your dear papa can’t see beyond his nose.”
Mama didn’t need to explain
that
to me. I had my own problems with Papa.
“We should start your apprenticeship while Bohdan’s sleeping.”
“Must we?” I asked in a deflated voice.
Mama put her arms around me. “I know it isn’t easy to give up the dogs. But your papa’s right that you’ll need to learn a skill that’s useful for marriage.”
Hearing the word
marriage
tormented me in the same way as did watching a sick dog suffer a long and painful death.
I put Bohdan’s
soska
back into his mouth to suck on, and then I checked his diaper and found a poopy mess. The smell was so dreadful I held my breath and quickly cleaned his plump bottom, wishing all the while we couldhang turpentine rags above his cradle. I swaddled him in a clean cloth diaper and kissed his feet before bundling him up from head to toe.
With Bohdan cooing, snuggled up to my chest, we kept each other warm along our journey to Mama’s sewing studio. Papa’s footsteps had helped pack down the snow, forming a path for us. My eyes wandered toward the kennel and searched for some sign of the dogs.
“You must miss Zar,” Mama said.
“You need me more than he does.” Even though I resented Bohdan for taking what I cherished most away from me, it was hard not to love him. He was an easy baby and the littlest things made him happy.
Mama tenderly touched Bohdan’s capped head. “For now, that’s true.”
The jingle of horses’ bells, hundreds of soft timbres, filled the air. Mama and I turned around to see a gilded sleigh approaching, led by a troika of the Count’s Orlov Trotters yoked together.
“The Countess must be returning from the Imperial Ball,” Mama said.
Boris pulled up on the reins to stop the horses and nodded to Mama and me.
“What are you doing out in the cold and with the baby no less?” the Countess asked. She removed her hand from the inside of her muff and, in one grand sweep, she motioned for us to join her.
“It’s really not necessary. We enjoy the fresh air,” Mama said. “We’ve been cooped up for days.”
“I insist,” the Countess said. “Come join me for tea. I want to visit with your little one.”
Once we were settled inside the sleigh, Boris clucked his tongue, and with a slight crack of his knout, he coaxed the white horses into a spirited trot. I pulled the thick bear-hide blanket over Bohdan to protect him from the brisk air. Heaven forbid he came down with a cold.
The Countess pinched Bohdan’s cheeks. “My goodness, he’s precious. How is he faring?”
“Bohdan’s growing every day,” Mama answered.
“Such a lovely name,” the Countess said.
“And he coos like a bird. Listen,” I said.
The Countess leaned in. “Indeed, he does!”
“Was the ball spectacular?” Mama asked.
“It becomes grander each year, with more and more exotic foods covering the tables, more toasts, and plenty of dancing until dawn. Nobody—excluding the Tsarina—was dressed as smartly as I.”
Mama’s face turned as red as a bowl of
borscht
.
To save Mama from turning redder, I blurted, “Alexander caught one of the wolves.”
“Really? His father will be proud!” the Countess said. “Though I’d much prefer that he give up the dogs and give me some grandchildren.”
We entered through the grand doors of the four-storystone manor and were greeted by yips and yaps from Almaz, a fluffy white toy poodle—the one Papa thought would perform better on a hunt than Zar. The Countess picked him up to quiet him, and then excused herself to freshen up. The valet led us into the grand receiving room, where specimens from past hunts surrounded us. Covering the walls were the heads of aurochs, bear, lynx, wild
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