Standing in front of the tsarina, Major General Resin, the commander who’d taken charge of the garrison of troops that protected Olga’s family, cleared his throat. In favor of Alexei?” She glanced at Mamma: Alexei’s chronic poor health had always made him seem older than his age, but at twelve, he was still very much a child, and far too young to take on the heavy burden of ruling. In the deepening gloom, she fancied she could see the orange glow of bonfires. Panic gripped her by the throat, and Olga turned to face the window once more. Candlelight sent dark flames up the cavernous bookshelves that lined the walls, illuminating her weary face. Incongruously, she thought not of advancing troops, but of her brother Alexei and his cap-gun, firing at imagined enemies in the grounds where, at this very moment, true monsters stalked between the trees.Īcross the room, shrouded in the darkness that had cloaked the palace since the electricity lines were cut days before, Olga’s mother pulled a shawl across her shoulders. She’d heard gunfire in the days and weeks since the riots had broken out in Petrograd, though they’d never sounded so close, so final. Sit-ting on the window ledge in her father’s study, Olga turned her head toward the sound. Shots rang out across the twilit grounds of Alexander Park.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |