My Father the Czar Copyright 1998 Library of Congress number: 98-96138 by AUTHOR22@aol.com All rights reserved Chapter Five + + + + + Tsarskoye Selo, Russia 1913 Wednesday evening. + + + + + Uncle Gregori could not have helped but sense the disharmony that descended upon us during that first meeting; nevertheless he spent most of his time in conversation with the Czarina leaving me and the Tsarevich to occasionally stare at each other in mutual distaste. It would have taken great actors to have disguised how we both felt. This pompous boy who paraded around the car as though he were a peacock was unreal. It wasn't just his appearance, it was his reaction toward me that was the most disconcerting. I had been on the road for almost two weeks in order to put HIS plan into operation, yet he looked at me like I was some kind of filthy beggar. My first impulse was to run away. I wondered if I could find the gypsy caravan and Katrina again. My second thought was to somehow return to my own village but, since tradition dictated that any boy who had been "sold" from a village be immediately stricken from the community history, it would be doubtful that I would be welcome there. If I did return, the village elders would insist that I be sent back to Gregori immediately. So, my only real choice would be to find the gypsies. Taking pity on me, Tatiana beckoned for me to join her on one of the divans. She was kind and friendly. However, her manner of speach depressed me even further. I had a monumental task ahead of me if I were to learn to speak as she did. "Catherine there is a water closet that you may use if you wish to wash and change your clothes." I shook my head, "No." "Where are your things?" She asked. I pointed to the small cloth covered bundle laying on the floor next to uncle Gregori. Tatiana's eyes opened wide, "Oh you poor thing. We must do something about that as soon as we get home. "Mama, may I speak to you for a moment?" The Czarina joined us on the couch. "Mama, Catherine has no luggage. Don't you think that we could let her have the wardrobe that Anastasia has outgrown?" The Czarina motioned for me to stand and then turn around. "Yes Tatiana. I do believe they would be the right size. Have Mrs. Cherminski bring down those trunks from the attic as soon she can." The woman looked at me with tenderness, "Welcome to our home Catherine. I am certain you will do well with us." The Czarina then returned to Gregori's side and they continued their discussion while Tatiana and I attempted to converse. She was putting most of the effort into our encounter; attempting to draw me from behind the barrier created by this strange environment, my difficulty in speaking and the obvious hostility which the Tsarevich was exhibiting. "I don't know what has gotten into Alex. Both yesterday and today he was bubbling over with anxiety to see you and your uncle. We had lunch on the yacht and, it seems to me, that was when his mood changed." Tatiana raised her voice, "Alex stop being so glum; come over here and get to know Catherine. The poor thing has only the clothes she is wearing and has been traveling for almost two weeks." The Tsarevich stood, removed his hat, tucked it under his shirt and strode over to us. I had to admit that his appearance was less pompous without the hat; but still, the bright red and blue colors combined with the flair of his costume reminded me more of the gypsy boy than it did of my preconception of a young Czar-to-be. I suddenly realized that the heart of my discomfort lay in the fact that he DID remind me of the gypsy boy. The Tsarevich's reaction to me could have been overlooked as having been caused by events over which I had little control. No, --it WAS the reminder of the Gypsy Boy -- with eyes the color of dark brown coffee, the boy of the crooked hair and crooked teeth, the boy whose name I could not remember -- the boy who was not my friend -- the boy who, in the wee hours of the night, had unearthed hidden passions within me. Even more disturbing to me was the discovery that merely a passing thought of that encounter had quickly stirred my blood and brought my petooshock to full attention. For the first time, the Tsarevich and I gazed into each others eyes. It seemed to me that our souls had suddenly locked and all of the animosity dissolved as though under the hand of a master magician. "Your Imperial Highness." I heard my own voice speak for the first time to my doppleganger. He extended his hand, "Catherine, it is a pleasure to finally meet you. We have been looking forward to your arrival." The change in attitude made me feel better. I knew not how much of that change was real and how much of it was due to his sister's interest in me. I needed to play the game so that I might gain a more accurate appraisal of this situation. This time the outcome was important to me. In the back of my mind lurked the thought that, if given a choice, I'd prefer the company of Katrina and the gypsy caravan. The Imperial Train slowed and then gently came to a halt. The officer who had first entered the car when the royal family arrived now reappeared and said, "Gregori, why don't you and your niece take the lead, then the rest of our party will follow." As we stepped from the car, we were instantly surrounded by a barricade of armed men. In the midst of that mass, we surged along the walkway, out a gate and along side three automobiles. This globule of bodies then split three ways: our party entered the center car, while the bodyguards divided themselves between the front and rear vehicles. The sounds of three doors closing made a precise, sequential thump and, as though it had been a signaling drum roll, the motorcade instantly hurdled out of the station and raced toward its destination, pushing its collective cargos back into the soft leather seats. We had made only two turns when I saw, for the first time, the Alexander Palace. To me, it seemed larger than our entire village. It was surrounded by a high, wrought iron fence at least fifteen feet in height. Massive gates blocked the road's entrance into the compound. On either side of the gates were small, rectangular sentry houses painted in white and blue. Above the crest of the entry gate rose the gilded double eagle which I had seen on the side of the Imperial Train and etched into the glass table top. We did not pause for the gates to open, our movement seemed synchronized with them. The road swept across the front of the building. It seemed inconceivable to me that such a vast structure would a place in which someone might live in and called 'home'. There were four grand entrances. We stopped in front of the one on the far left, climbed out of the automobiles and walked through the opening doors. The bodyguards disappeared as the outside doors closed behind us. "Children, take Catherine upstairs with you. Tell Mrs. Cherminski to see her to her room. Tatiana, don't forget to ask her to bring down those clothes from the attic." The Czarina and uncle Gregori disappeared through a doorway on the right while Tatiana and I followed Alex through a small doorway on the left and then up a staircase to the second floor. Phonograph music was coming from the far end of the corridor. It was lively, almost passionate. It had a spirit and a rhythm to it that was vaguely reminiscent of gypsy music. Alex strode through the open doorway and asked, "Where did you get that new album. And who is it?" "It is a composition from one of the new associate professors at the Imperial School for Dance. Don't you just love it?" --a female voice spoke loudly. Tatiana had run ahead, directly behind her brother. "I haven't heard it either. It sounds a little like Rimsky-Korsakov, but not as well structured." By the time I had reached the doorway, Alex had picked up one of the records and was reading it out loud. "'Rite of Spring' by Stravinsky. We had better turn down the volume or papa will be all over us. You know how he hates these new composers. But I think you were close Tatiana, Korsakov was Stravinsky's mentor. In fact listen to this comment printed inside the album cover." "Under the baton of Pierre Monteux, the Paris premiere of 'Le Sacre du printemps' at the new Theatre des Champs-Elysees created a violent reaction among the audience and afterward in the press- no one had ever heard music that carried this much primordial power - at least not since Richard Wagner's Tristan und Isolde - and Stravinsky was severely criticized by the musical establishment, but he seemed not to care; his notoriety was only incidental to the respect and awe in which he was held by his musical brethren." Alex then continued to comment: "The premiere of 'Le Sacre' was exactly a year to the day after the premiere of Nijinsky's 'L'Apres-midi d'un faune' last year and that caused such an uproar in Paris, which echoed throughout the world capitols, that even the great sculptor Rodin became involved in all the press and controversy --and that caused him quite a bit of trouble,--but the audience's reaction at the premiere was tame compaired with what happened when 'Le Sacre' premiered this year. Before I could answer an older girl came into the hallway and said, "Well you had better keep those records hidden or papa will smash them. You know how he hates this new music. In fact, last week he swore that if the Imperial School for Music didn't impose some degree of discipline, he would close them down." It was Alex who replied, "You know very well that he was not serious. In fact I will wager you that we could hold a ball in the downstairs Parade Rooms and invite Stravinsky to entertain us." The older girl responded, "You probably could. Papa lets you do what ever you like." For the first time, the older girl noticed me. "Oh! Are you uncle Gregori's niece? I am Olga." An older woman came into the room and spoke to me, "I am the housekeeper Nadia Cherminski. Would you like to see your room?" I nodded, "Yes." Tatiana said, "Nadia, mama would like for you to bring down those trunks of clothes that Anastasia has outgrown and put them in Catherine's room. It seems that her things got lost some where while they were traveling. You know how awful the Railway Service is." "Tatiana is a most thoughtful person," I said to myself. Not wanting to embarrass, me she had fibbed. The housekeeper led me through a door on the right hand side of the playroom, down a short corridor and into a room on the left. "This will be yours. There is a bathroom further down the hall on the left side. Be sure to latch the door. The children are prone to not knocking before entering and the Tsarevich NEVER puts the seat down after he has done his business. "There are towels and a robe laid out on your bed. I'll have one of the men bring down those trunks from the attic while you are bathing. We can go through them and see which ones you would like to keep." The woman left me and I laid down on my new bed. The only person I really knew was downstairs. I was alone among strangers. For the first time I was frightened. But frightened of what? The unknown? Yes, certainly that. --The future role that I was expected to fill? Again, certainly that too. But there was something else, something I could not put my finger on. It had something to do with the gypsy boy and it had something to do with the Tsarevich. There was a knock on my door. "Yes?" The door opened and Tatiana came in followed by two younger girls. "Catherine, I would like for you to meet my two sisters, Maria and Anastasia. Watch out for Anastasia. She is full of pranks but she is good hearted and loves everyone." Maria spoke, "I understand you will be attending classes with us. Do you know which ones?" I shook my head, "No. Uncle Gregori said that he needed to talk to the teachers first. I probably would need a good deal of private tutoring until I can catch up. Then, I would think I would be studying with the Tsarevich." "Well, I wouldn't count on that. Mama says that girls need to learn social things, like music and dancing. Of course languages are also high on our list of importance." Tatiana, turned and addressed the youngest girl, "You probably disagree don't you Anastasia." The little girl quipped, "You left out boys, Tatiana. You and Olga spend most of your time learning about boys. I don't think Catherine and I are old enough to concern ourselves with such boring subjects --and that boy Olga finds so fascinating is a real UGH!" She laughed and then added, "I hear you may have found yourself a new beau." Tatiana glared at her youngest sister, "New beau? Who told you what?" "Never mind. I heard that you met a new boy today at lunch." Tatiana began to blush. "My goodness! What did they do, print it on the front pages of the newspaper?" "No, I overheard one of the servants say that she had heard it from one of the bodyguards, who had heard it from someone on the Standart." "I guess I shouldn't be surprised, you know what they say, the only thing faster than a telegraph is tele-a- servant." Tatiana laughed, and added, "Let's leave Catherine alone, she needs to bathe and get ready for dinner." She turned to me and said, "I will come for you when it is time." The door closed behind them. I got up and fastened the latch, then removed the dress and underwear. I stood in front of the mirror: a girl from the neck up and boy from there down. Carefully, I fastened the robe around me, unlatched the door and proceeded into the bath. The room was quite large and I found that the toilet was in a separate alcove. I had to laugh when I saw it, the seat was up. What was odd was that there were two porcelain fixtures side by side; a standard sized one and a small one. I wondered if the smaller one was for the younger children; however, the seat being raised on the larger one indicated that Alex had used it instead. I turned on the two faucets of the tub, adjusting them for a comfortable temperate. The sound of the running water made me want to pee, so I latched the door and stood before the porcelain fixture and let go. When I was finished, I pulled the overhead chain which released water into the bowl, and then lowered the seat. It suddenly dawned on me that, in the future --whenever I used any toilet, I MUST make certain that the seat was put back down once I was finished. Taking the hairpiece off was a tremendous relief and I vigorously scratched my scalp. The tub was deep and the water came up to my chin as I submerged myself. The warm water was so relaxing that I soon began to nod off. A knock on the door brought me back to the present. A girl's voice said, "Catherine, you must hurry, Mrs. Cherminski has laid out your things and dinner will be served in half-an-hour." I quickly climbed out of the tub and noted that steam from the tub had fogged the mirror. I wiped the moisture away with my towel so that I could see well enough to position the wig. When I had returned to my room, I found that there were at least a dozen dresses now hanging in my wardrobe. They had been arranged from "plain" on the left to "spectacular" on the right. One dress had been laid out on the bed together with fresh underwear, stockings and a pair of walking shoes. "Thank God," I said to my self, "Mrs. Cherminski has made the choice of what to wear for me. I would not have know which outfit was appropriate." Much to my chagrin, I noticed that the dress did not flair out from the waist. I must be careful not to let myself become aroused, a Vstavat (Hard-on) would show. The shoes were too tight, so I removed the stockings. While I was walking about, trying to settle into the shoes, I heard a knock. I unlatched the door but there was no one there. The knock was repeated; it was coming from the wall on my left. I knocked in return. "Catherine, can you hear me?" It was Alex. "Yes. What do you want?" "Do you see that tiny hole about six inches above the floor?" "No," I replied. "Wait a second." A minute elapsed before he continued, "I am going to poke a wire through the hole; when you see it, pull it through so that there is enough to reach the bedside table." There was a scraping sound followed by white dust falling to the floor, and then a cream-colored wire poked out of the wall. "What is this for?" I asked. "A telephone. We will be able to talk to each other without anyone else knowing about it. Can you hide the wire under the carpet?" I pulled enough of the wire through to reach the bedside table and then covered it with the rug. "Where is the telephone?" I asked. "I will give it to you after dinner. But I don't want anyone to know we have installed it. Agreed?" "Don't you think Mrs. Cherminski will see the wire?" "Can you move the wardrobe to hide it?" "I'll try. How much time do I have before we eat." "About ten minutes. I will remind Tatiana to come for you." "Why all of the secrecy?" "Uncle Gregori wants everyone to think we don't like each other." I told myself, "Be alert, play the game. Don't believe what you are told." Outloud, I replied "I understand." The wardrobe was two feet to the right of where the wire came through the wall. It required alternate tugging and pushing to move the cabinet. Tatiana's voice accompanied her knock on my door. "Catherine, dinner will be ready shortly. May I come in?" Without waiting for my reply, she turned the door knob but the latch held firm. "Wait just a moment until I undo the latch." She came into my room, and looked me up and down. "You really should wear stockings." "The shoes hurt my feet if I do." "They are probably too small. Here, try mine on." She removed her left shoe and slid it across the floor to me. It was too large. "I suspect Maria's shoes from last year would fit. I'll tell Nadia. I guess, for the moment, you must have dinner without stockings." The family dinning room was at the far end of the corridor near the stairs. The Czar was already seated at one end of the table as we entered. In a loud voice Anastasia yelled, "Alex hurry up. I'm hungry." From the other end of the wing he replied, "Don't be in such a rush. Is mama there yet." The Czarina's voice came from the vestibule, "Hurry Alex. Don't keep us waiting." The table had been set for eight. Seated along one side were Olga, Tatiana and Maria. I was placed at the facing side between Anastasia and Alex opposite Tatiana. The table was set with silver knives, forks and spoons. At each place were several glasses. I had never eaten with this much ceremony and felt uneasy. A serving girl placed hot bowls of soup before each of us. I started to reach for a spoon, when the Tsarevich kicked me, then took hold of a different spoon. From then on I followed his lead. "Mama, Alex has a new recording from a student of Rimsky-Korsakov's." "Was that the noise I heard earlier?" Asked the Czar. "Papa, it is not noise. Stravinsky is developing new styles of music," Olga injected. "The music critic for the newspaper said that he was establishing a trend with his originality and brilliant compositions." "Noise is noise. Stravinsky and Bartok think the same way. But it all can be laid at Rimsky-Korsokov's feet. He encourages experimenting with music. My mind hardly has settled into one rhythm before he has flung me into something else." The Czar smiled at his oldest daughter. "So what are you leading up to?" "We want to hold a young peoples ball weekend after next and ask Stravinsky to organize the entertainment. May we?" The two parents exchanged glances, already admitting defeat. The Czarina replied, "If you help each other with your lessons and your teachers agree, then you may. Who do you wish to invite?" Olga brightened, "Just family, mama. Family under the age of twenty two." "Cousins with their guests?" "Yes mama." The Czar chuckled, "Cousins and guests under the age of twenty two? That would bring the guest list to at least one hundred. You had better telephone that musician and see if he is available." The Czarina interjected, "I did enjoy the performance of his ballet Petrouchka last season. Ask him if Nijinksy could dance a small portion of it." "But mama, then parents will want to attend and it would become too stuffy. Can't we have our own party, just people our age?" Alex asked, "Do you think it would be alright for me to invite Piotr Veliky." "Oh Yes! Mama, I would like that very much." Tatiana smiled at her mother, then whispered across to me. "You will like Piotr. He is so handsome. He is a sailor on our yacht." Her mother spoke in my direction, "Catherine have you been taught to dance." "Oh yes mam." My petooshock became throbbingly erect as I remembered Katrina and me bobbing up and down to the beat of the gypsy music. I glanced toward Alex and saw that he had placed a napkin in his lap. I did likewise. It seemed that everyone on my side of the table was starving. All three of us ate everything on our plates and even asked for more --and they had Ice Cream for dessert! Not just 'Ice Cream' but the most creamy, lovely, nut flavored dessert that I had ever tasted. We even had second helpings of that. I never dreamed that anyone in the world ate so well. Goat and goat's milk was what I had been raised on. One winter my brothers had frozen the cream from the goats, but it tasted like goat cheese. "Where is uncle Gregori," I asked? The Czarina told me that he would return in the morning to discuss my education with the head master, Mr. Gilliard. Alex asked, "May we be excused? I would like to show Catherine around the palace." His mother replied, "Certainly, if she is not too tired. You and Anastasia should both accompany her." I thought I caught a sour glimpse on Alex's face before he told his sister, "As soon as you are finished lets go." We went into the playroom. Alex asked his sister if she could find a flashlight. While she was gone he told me that he had put the telephone under my bed and that, after hooking up the wires, I should hide it in the drawer of my bedside table. "I can tell that mama isn't going to let us be alone together." "Alex, I am tired. Why don't we tour the palace tomorrow. I will connect the telephone right now and we can test it. Agreed?" Anastasia returned, "I looked everywhere and couldn't find the flashlight." "Then let's show Catherine the palace tomorrow after our classes. I think she is tired and would prefer to go to bed." Her brother suggested. The little girl looked disappointed, then asked, "Would you like some help in putting things away?" I shook my head, "No. This will be my first night in a bed since we left Perm." "Perm! That is a long way. Did you travel by train the entire distance?" "No we rode horseback all the way to Kazan. Have you ever been in Kazan?" Both children shook their heads. Anastasia commented, "Papa said it is too foreign a place, not really Russian at all." "He is probably right. There were many people dressed in strange clothes. Uncle Gregori said they were from Turkey and China. Most of them were not Christians at all. Yet there were more Christian churches there than any other place I have been." Alex snickered, "Then you haven't seen St. Petersburg yet." "Do you attend mass?" I asked. "Oh, yes. The chapel is downstairs in the Parade Rooms next to where grandma lives," replied Anastasia. "I expect you will attend with us." We now had walked to my room. I said, "Well, good night," entered and latched the door behind me. I had just removed the wig when I heard Alex tapping on the wall, "Do you need help connecting the telephone?" "I haven't even found it yet. Give me a chance." "Well hurry up. As soon as you connect the wires push the button, and I'll answer. If it doesn't work tap on the wall." I found the box under the bed with a picture of a telephone on it. There were pictures on the side which showed how it was to be connected. Under a panel on the bottom were two screws for the wires. In the box were both the telephone and a small screw driver. After connecting them, I pushed the button and lifted the receiver. "Hello. Hello, can you hear me." A metallic voice sounded in the ear piece. "Great. We can talk. It will probably be the only private conversations we can have. Everyone watches me like a hawk, as though I might do something stupid." I asked, "Haven't you ever had a girl friend?" "Just my sisters." "No, I mean a kissing girl friend?" "No. I think they are all afraid that I would do something stupid, like have sex with one." "Have you thought about doing 'it'?" I asked. "Sure, but I have never had the chance. You?" "Not until we visited some gypsies in Perm." "Really! What did you do?" "Katrina, a gypsy girl, taught me to dance." "Did you kiss her?" I laughed, "That and a lot more." "More? How much more?" Before I could answer he said, "I have to go. Someone is knocking on my door. It's probably Derevenko." "Who is Derevenko?" As I asked the question, I heard the click of the receiver being hung up. After removing my clothes, I laid down on the bed, pulled the covers over my head and went to sleep. Thursday morning began with a persistent buzz in my ear as though a summer fly had been ordered to wake me, but the buzz was not constant and it sounded from one location. I opened one eye with the realization that the discord interfering with my sleep was emanating from the toy telephone. "Hello." "Are you awake. Breakfast will be ready soon and I have an idea that will knock your socks off." Of course it was Alex. "You must have been very tired, I have been buzzing you for almost an hour." "I gotta go pee." I said. "Well go do it and hurry back." After putting the hairpiece in place, I examined myself in the full length mirror and had to laugh. From the neck up I saw a pretty girl from the neck down I was very much a boy; U men-ya vstal! (I have a hard-on!). I pulled on the bathrobe and tied the sash, then I bent over slightly so that my petooshock was hidden within the folds of my robe and proceed to the toilet. My pee led to something else and I decided to sit upon the smaller of the two fixtures. After having completed my task, I began to look around for a chain to pull to wash the bowl but couldn't see one. Then I spotted a small lever on the left side. Experimentally I pushed it. I almost went through the ceiling. A cold stream of water hit my popochka (little ass) that sent shock waves up an down my spine. I leapt up from my seat, the cold water still dripping from my buttocks, wondering why any one would use such a torturous device. When I returned, I pushed the button on the telephone several times and was about ready to give up when the ear piece went click and Alex's voice said, "That took you a long time." "What the hell is that small toilet for in the bathroom. I froze my Popa off." The Tsarevich began to laugh. "You mean the bidet? Have you never used a bidet?" "No I haven't. Is it always that cold?" "You are supposed to run it before sitting down, that way the water can warm up." He continued to laugh, then asked, "Do you want to hear my new idea?" "Sure, go ahead." "I have a wardrobe cabinet just like yours and I have moved it to cover the hole I pushed through the wall. If I can figure a way to pin down the wardrobe cabinets so that they may not be moved without pulling out a screw or something, we could cut a hole in the wall large enough for one of us to pass through." I began to wonder just what the Tsarevich had in mind. I said, "I have to meet with Uncle Gregori and one of the tutors at nine o'clock, so whatever you decide to do, it will have to wait until after that." "Yes I know. You are meeting with Mr. Gilliard. He is in charge of our lessons. When he forgets that he is French, he can be a lot of fun; but, when he is teaching, he can be really stuffy. You'll probably get Mr. Petrov for some special tutoring in Russian. That reminds me, we need to find a way to teach each other. I must also learn to speak like you so that, when we switch places, no one will know the difference." I laughed, "Learning to dress like a girl isn't all that easy. If you try and run, your feet get caught up in your skirt and you are likely to fall on your face." "I've noticed you haven't mastered that yet either. Are you ready to eat?" "No! I am standing here stark naked. Let me put some clothes on. Should I wear the dress I wore to dinner last night?" "Try to find something else in the same style but a different color. I will see you at breakfast. Bye." I had just put the phone down when it buzzed again. "Yes?" "Something very important I need to mention. Sometime soon, we need to see each other without any clothes on to discover any differences that others might detect." "What do you mean others? What others?" I said anxiously. Alex said, "Papa, or my doctors Fedorov and Rauchfuss. Then, as we grow older, we probably will be sharing girl friends." That idea did not set well with me. The thought of anyone else enjoying my Katrina's favors made be angry. "And when you marry, you will let me fuck your wife?" Alex paused for a moment as he digested my response. "I can see there might be difficulties, but it would have to be. For the sake of Russia, I would have little choice." By comparison with last night's evening meal, breakfast that morning was a disappointment. We had berries with cream, an egg and a small piece of sausage. We ate better than that on our poor farm. Alex explained that the small breakfast could be blamed on Mr. Gilliard; he didn't want the children to become sleepy during class. I was told to report to Mr. Gilliard's study as both he and uncle Gregori were waiting for me. Alex announced that he was going to include himself in the meeting. The headmaster appeared disconcerted over the presence of the Tsarevich, but there was little that he could do about it. "Father Resputin, I understand that you wish for your niece to attend classes with the grand duchesses. I am not certain that would be in the girls' best interest. They have been studying music, dance and literature for several years. Additionally, your niece speaks a variety of Russian that could hardly be referred to as classic." Uncle Gregori held up his hand and interrupted Gilliard. "You have misunderstood mister; first, it is not my wish, but the wish of the Almighty, and secondly, she is to study languages, with very little emphasis on dance and music." Gilliard flushed at the suggestion that it was God's wish and pushed it aside. "Regardless of whose wish it is, it seems unlikely that there is time for any special tutoring without effecting the education of the Imperial children. No, I do not think we can assist you." Very quietly, but with great emphasis, uncle Gregori said, "Again you misunderstood. It is both the will of God and the will of her Imperial Majesty Tsarina Alexandra Fedorovna Romanov. Are you prepared to risk your position over her wishes?" Gilliard angrily stood, but forced himself to be silent as his face turned a crimson red. Finally he reseated himself and continued, --"Then there is another matter, I understand that you wish to teach a class in religion. As fine a concept as that maybe, I am afraid that there are others that are far more qualified than you; but even if we accepted your credentials to teach the Imperial children, there is no time in their schedule for any extra classes." "Mr. Gilliard you keep ignoring the wishes of the Almighty. Beware or your time on this earth maybe cut short." Alex was watching this exchange with great interest. But I was watching the body language more than I was listening to the words. The two were colliding head on. "Sir," I injected. "Yes Catherine?" Gilliard appeared to welcome the interruption. I continued, "Let me ask the Russian Tutor Mr. Petrov if he can spend an hour a day with me. Then I can spend most of the day studying what he has outlined for me. As for Uncle Gregorie's class, why don't you simply schedule it after the last class of the day. Instead of making it a required class, leave it up to Alex and his sisters as to whether they wish to attend." The headmaster looked at me with great surprise. "Rasputin your niece is very wise for her years. Alex, how do you feel about an extra class at the end of each day?" Gregori interrupted again. "No. Not every day, just twice a week, on Tuesday and Thursday." Alex replied, "I will help Catherine with her lessons as much as I can. And, as for the extra class, why don't we try it. If it is interesting enough we will want to attend, if it isn't we won't learn anything anyway." Simultaneously the two adults said, "...and a little child shall lead them." At first they looked shocked at the duet of their words, then Mr. Gilliard and uncle Gregori smiled at each other. Inwardly, I said to myself, "Ignore the words. Watch what they do. These two could never be friends." Pyotr Petrov, the tutor of Russian begrudgingly gave me an hour of his time, beginning tomorrow. So the rest of the day I sat quietly in Alex's classes. He studied French from ten in the morning until Eleven. Mr. Gilliard had him reading from a book about Napoleon. He frequently paused before long words and was asked to repeat them until his teacher was satisfied with the pronunciation. At Eleven o'clock, an older, round faced man wearing a military uniform entered the class room. "Good morning Vladimir. The little girl is Gregori Rasputin's niece. She is much more pleasant than her uncle and very bright." The man nodded his head at me, neither smiling nor frowning. "I am Vladimir Voyeikov. History is what I teach. You are welcome to sit and listen but you may not interrupt. If you have any questions hold them until after class." The entire hour was spent reading about Alex's great grandparents. Several times, the teacher dwelt upon the need for a strong head of government. At least in that regard he and uncle Gregori would have been in agreement. All of the children met in the dining room for lunch. It too was light. Though I was not hungry when I left the table, I certainly was not full. Sidney Gibbs had Alex read from Shakespeare from one until two in the afternoon. English was a very different language. Gibbs kept interrupting Alex telling him that he needed to use his jaws more. "When speaking English, one must chew their words." From two until three, I listened to Pyotr Petrov explain the mechanics of the Russian language. He wrote sentences on the board and then drew diagrams. I had no idea what he was talking about. I almost fell asleep, but then instead decided to play the game. I ignored his words and watched his movements. At the end of the hour, there was one thing that I knew for sure: I did not like Pyotr Petrov. At three o'clock, Petrov closed his book. "That is all for today my Tsarevich. And you, Catherine, tomorrow morning at nine, we will commence your lessons in Mr. Gilliard's study. I will bring you a book." Alex was already at the doorway when Petrov finished speaking to me. "Yes sir. Tomorrow at nine." We were out the door and in the playroom within seconds. "Let me take you on that tour of the palace before anyone knows we are gone. Derevenko is at the naval base this afternoon so we are on our own." We ran through the corridor, down the stairs to the first floor and out the front door, then back inside through another grand entrance. "These are the Parade Rooms. This is where we hold grand affairs, dinners, balls and things. Come along and I will show you the circular hall where Stranvisky will probably play." We ran through a broad doorway. The floors were marble, the walls were trimmed in gold and the lighting fixture were huge glass things that sparkled like diamonds. It took my breath away. "I wonder if Stravinsky will bring his boy friend along?" I stopped in my tracks and stared at Alex. "What do you mean, 'His boyfriend?'" "There is a very talented ballet dancer by the name of Najinski. When ever they are in the same room, they watch one another. It was Olga who said she thinks that they are lovers. Najinksi would make a beautiful ballerina. Olga collects pictures of the ballet. I will try to find one of him and show you. You should see the way he moves. He does not just walk around like you or I. Always, his body moves gracefully as though he were dancing. He even holds the cheeks of his buttocks together so tightly that Olga says he could carry a 10 Ruble Note there." We came to a stair case, "That leads down to storage areas and our wine cellar. It is a fun place." There were doors all along the lower corridors that led off to both the right and left. A light lit the passageway from an open door. As we passed it, Alex remarked, "That is a workshop. Let me see who is in there." He darted in and then called, "No one is here, hold on a second." When he returned, he was holding a small 12 inch wood saw. "Can you hide this under your dress?" "What do we want with that?" "To cut that hole in our bedroom wall." I was successful at stashing the saw under my dress but it kept sticking me in the side. "How much time do we have before you will be missed?" I asked. "With Derevenko gone, I don't think my absence will be noticed, except by Anastasia and she is bright enough to be silent." "Where are we going?" "Just around that corner," Alex pointed ahead of us. "There! --the big double wooden door." "Is it locked?" Alex pulled a key from his pocket. "They keep this in the Pantry. I will have it back before it is missed." The large door opened easily on well lubricated hinges. As the door swung closed, he hit a wall switch which illuminated the cellar. The room appeared to be fifty feet long by twenty five feet wide. There was a small table with two chair at the entrance. Corridors were formed by rows of wooden shelves made from some dark wood. Each shelf was divided into cubicles, each of which contained an even dozen bottles of wine laying on their sides, necks extending toward the front. "This first aisle is the newer red wines. The further back we move, the older is the wine. The next row of shelves are the newer whites. Then the next is brandy. The pattern is repeated, each shelf holding successively older bottles. Some of these are older than the house of Romanov." We explored the aisles. The further we got from the door, the dustier were the bottles. "Uncle Gregori likes Madeira, do you have any of that?" "I think so. Its back this way." I followed Alex to the back wall. He lifted a bottle, looked at it, then said, "This is brandy, from France." He moved further along. "The Madeira is in between the wine and the brandy. It is very popular, but I have never tasted it." "Really, it tastes nice. It is a sweet wine to which brandy has been added. It tastes good on the tongue while building a fire in your blood. It is one of Uncle Gregori's favorites. We drank two bottles of it on the train." "If you want some, help yourself." Alex handed me a dusty bottle. There was nothing to extract the cork, so I handed it back to him. "I think there is a cork screw in that table by the door. Let's see." There were several cork screws in the drawer. Alex handed one to me together with the bottle. "You had better open it. I cannot risk cutting myself." In my eagerness to put the screw into the cork, I succeeded in breaking the cork and pushing it inside. I lifted it to my mouth, but the cork blocked the free flow and it slowly gurgled out. This Madeira tasted much nicer than the one which we had on the train. After several gulps, I passed the bottle to the Tsarevich. He put it to his lips, sipping it very gently, then passed it back to me. "So tell me about you and the gypsy girl. How much more than kissing did you do with her?" I recounted the first night's adventure as we continued to sip at the wine. We emptied the bottle as I told him of Katrina guiding me into her. We were both flushed in the face and we both had erections. Alex's petooshock was tenting his trousers. He was staring at my lap where my erection was tenting my dress. "I wished I'd been there. I have been wondering how it would feel to be inside of a girl." I asked him, "Have you ever washed yours with soap and hot water?" He nodded, "It felt great until I got soap in the end of it, then it hurt." "You have to be careful not to let the soap get up that high. Take yours out and I'll show you what I mean." "No, you takes yours out and show me." The Madeira had peeled away my inhibitions, so I pulled my skirt up, pulled the underpants down and grasped my pole. "Come over here closer so you can see." I placed my hand at the base and pulled up until the foreskin completely covered the tip. "Take yours out and try it." I was surprised when I saw his rigid pole. My eye moved back and forth between his and mine. There seemed to be little difference in appearance. I showed him how to move his hand further up and then massage downward in a sideways rolling motion, causing the foreskin to move back and forth over the head. He mimed my actions and a low groan of pleasure escaped from his throat. "It feels incredibly good." We were watching each other's hand as we fell into a synchronized beating of our timbers. "Take your hand away and close your eyes." I replaced his hand with mine and continued to stroke. His hips began to move into my hand. "Oh wow that feels good. Just the difference of it being someone else's hand is fantastic. Where do you think Katrina and her gypsies are? Maybe we could practice trading places." All author22 books are available in paperback from Amazon.com, and are also available as with colorful illustration in html format for viewing on your own PC, or in Franklin Rocket-eBook format. Contact author22@aol.com for further information.