GROUND / CH. 26:FABRIC
ST PETERSBURG DOCKS, 2PM THURSDAY AFTERNOON, 2361
“It is beautiful,” Anastasia said in quiet Mer, “the messenger did not make a mistake? My Imperial father said I could give you some paperwork?”
“I did not know you spoke Mer, Tsarevna Anastasia,” Rachel replied, to the Tsar's second-youngest daughter. “I was surprised that your Imperial father spoke English to the servant. Your Imperial father did not speak of paperwork. However, if the message was that your he expected you to talk to me, and that you could hand me something if you wished, then the messenger did not make a mistake.”
“I wonder what made the difference?” Anastasia said, more to herself than to Rachel. In her quiet, unassuming voice she continued, “Mer is rapidly becoming an important world language, is it not? My first degree was in chemistry. I have since been studying Terrestrial and Extra-Terrestrial Geology and geochemistry, including two years at Mars University. My doctoral thesis has just been accepted. I would like to study the geology and geochemistry of Ground as well. I am also a truthsayer.”
“You show great trust in me, Tsarevna, thank you.”
“It can save embarrassment, later on. I believe it also counts in my favour, meaning that in my fathers eyes I am less vulnerable to plots than the average noble.”
“And thus you were able to study?”
“We all studied, but I was able to study without going to as great lengths to protect my identity. It is not too late to apply?”
“It is not too late. You have visited Atlantis?”
“Yes, and I am neither shark nor shark-food.”
“The group are not at all strong in the geological sciences. Nor are they at all well-supplied with single women.”
“You mean, if I go then I will have suitors?”
“There is just one geologist, he is single, and asked if there was anyone he could date. I imagine that if you were to work with him then he would be seeking to win your affection within a few days, yes. When I spoke to him last he called himself a lapsed Catholic, but that he could not agree with that part of the church on many points. I suggested he should make it a priority to renew his relationship with God. If he claims to have done so, and a truthsayer confirms it, I would not have a reason to turn down his application.”
Anastasia closed her eyes in silent prayer, “I am a Christian, and single, and one of the arguments my father gave against me going was that there would not be many suitable husbands for me on Ground. If I volunteered to be the truthsayer who listens to his confession or faith, what would that do to my application?”
“You want to meet this potential suitor as soon as possible?” Rachel asked.
“I long to go to Ground, for so many reasons. But if there are only the two of us as single people, and I were work closely with this man, and he was unsuitable, yet he did not take no for an answer... I think it would quickly become an impossible for me to work. I would value the opportunity to meet him where I can hide behind my mask, where he does not know I am evaluating other things as well as his honesty.”
“Do you feel that is fair? To him, I mean?”
“Not particularly. But I do not want to get to Ground and then be pestered for what feels like a lifetime.”
“There will be a number of opportunities to meet before getting to Ground. The initial group of researchers arrived together, I wish to avoid thoughts of 'them' and 'us' but a certain amount of that is inevitable. Travel will be different between the two groups too. They travelled in the space-folding laboratory, but that is hospital as well as home and office for most of them. This second influx of researchers will have to travel in smaller ships, which means from Mars, realistically. But before you all meet on Mars, there will be plenty of planning meetings.”
“Dr Ngbila,”
“Rachel, please.”
“Thank you. Rachel, I'm not opposed to the idea of a suitor, but I believe my parents would be opposed to the idea of one who they had not met and approved of, even if the man himself did not know he was being considered in that light.”
“And my daughter would much prefer this also,” Anastasia's mother chipped in, in English, “But it is a simple matter, Anastasia. Your father will add a sentence or two to the bottom of Dr Ngbila's description of what benefits accrue to expedition members in good standing after suitable time, and we will use that as an excuse to invite all members to the Palace. And perhaps your father's sentence will also encourage some of your colleagues to apply also.”
“Thank you mother,” Anastasia said. “I... I thought you were opposed to the idea of me going.”
“Only because you were so hesitant, Anastasia Kristovna. Two or five years is a long time at any stage of life, but especially at a time when so many life-changing decisions are made.”
“Is there a maximum number of places, Rachel?” Anastasia asked.
“I believe the cavern would be able to house about three hundred. But if there were that many going then we'd need a bigger bus. An additional twenty, including children, and in a variety of subjects, would be about what I was thinking of. Included in that twenty are six candidates waiting to be interviewed on Mars.”
“I imagine it is not hard to get to Mars with this ship,” the Tsarina said.
“It depends on the time of year, but no, as long as the planets are not aligned with the sun, it does not take long. But I would not like to bounce between planets too much. It takes time to adjust.”
“Mother, do you know what father plans to add?”
“Yes, dear. We've been discussing it. Those who take such risks without seeking financial gain are working for a noble cause. Formal recognition of that through ennoblement for those who are willing to take the appropriate oaths seems only appropriate.”
Anastasia nodded, “and it is in keeping with the other honours. Thank you, mama.”
“Do you think it would appeal to your colleagues?”
“Ludmilla has a title, but otherwise, I believe so.”
“Ludmilla has excluded herself in other ways, and her behaviour is not really consistent with her keeping her title much longer. Perhaps it would be kind to Dr Ngbila if you alerted the others that she is here, in case they are sitting on completed application forms like you have been.”
Switching to Mer, Rachel asked, “Would you be able to vouch for them, your highness? That they are not shark or shark-food to your knowledge? And normally there are quite a number of pre-interview tests, much like the ones taken to become a truthsayer.”
“I will contact only those I can vouch for.” Anastasia said.
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DUCHESS OF MOSCOW COURT, 3PM
“Friends,” Anastasia said, once everyone had arrived at her flat. “Dr Rachel Ngbila is currently talking to the Imperial Academy, after which she'll come here. She's accompanied by his Royal Highness prince Albert of the Restored Kingdom and before any of you get their hopes up, they spent a lot of the time I was talking to them holding hands. As you might expect, they're being accompanied by some of the palace's most competent agents. And... I've a little confession to make, about how I knew Dr Ngbila was here.”
“Your flat is in a more exclusive area that I thought it was, too. You brought us in through some kind of back-entrance last time?” Tatyana asked.
“I did, yes, and then got well and truly told off for not letting the security guards do their jobs.”
“You're not going to tell us you're actually the Duchess of Moscow, are you?” Maria asked.
“No... that's an aunt, on my father's side.”
“On your father's side?” Mikhail asked, deciding that meant her father must have been Svetlana the Great's son. Her only son. “Gulp.”
“I think Mikhail Borisovich has just worked out why he has never met my parents at open days or graduation,” Anastasia said, “that wasn't meant to be such a big clue.”
He'd asked why they never came to the university, when in his experience everyone's parents came to be proud of their children at such times. He'd been really sweet, actually, hoping she wasn't an orphan, or her parents sick. “I apologise if I have given offence in any way, Tsarevna,” he said, formally. The others gasped.
“You will if you go throwing titles around like that,” Anastasia retorted, “but he's right. I'm daughter number five. My Imperial father has decreed that the Ground project is a noble task. One that will, if completed competently, with good conscience and if then followed by a vow of nobility, result in the ennoblement of those who have served there. Quite which level of nobility, I really do not know. I do know that there are no baronies in Russia vacant, which is by far the most difficult noble position to fill. It may be that he has in mind a title over the tundra or taiga on Mars, which would be more of a technical-administration post than an legislative one. But in any case there is no such thing as a noble rank without an ongoing duty, a home, an income, a pension, and access to royalty. If your desire is to stay in research, then do not take up the vow. If you see research as a step to a stable administrative position, then perhaps you should think of it. The other thing he has said is that I should tell my trusted friends — you — who I am, and that as far as Dr Ngbila and I know, I will be going to Ground. I would like to not be the only Russian present, I would like to not be the only single woman our age present, especially as there is a young single man from the Restored Kingdom going. It would not be bad if there was another young man going.”
Mikhail, the only male in the group, said, “Anastasia are you saying...”
“I am saying, Mikhail Borisovich, that I know you all well enough and I trust you enough that I have told Dr Ngbila you are all genuine Christians and neither shark nor shark-food. That is all I mean. But we all also know that in the context of data-gathering field-trips, one single man in the company of one single woman is a very bad idea and with two or three single women is not the best situation either, and that a man he can talk to and pray with and so on is much healthier.”
“Not to mention vie with over our affections?” asked Maria.
“I've not noticed Mikhail Borisovich doing much vying, have you?” Tatyana asked.
Mikhail blushed.
“Surrounded by so many of us, and seeing us at our kind and considerate best so often, can you blame him for hoping to find love elsewhere?” Anastasia rebuked her friend.
“So are you suggesting we draw straws? One gets Mikhail, one gets the mysterious stranger, and anyone else going suffers years of loneliness?” Maria asked,
“I am suggesting that for anyone who wants to find love and raise a family, then Ground isn't the place to go. But alternatively maybe if you're not picky it is because there's not going to be much choice. I just don't want it to be a case of me having to leave because there's just me and one guy who thinks that makes us an instant couple.” Anastasia said, quite sure this wasn't going how she'd hoped it would.
“I have considered applying,” Mikhail said carefully, “and honestly could not make up my mind. If you would feel more comfortable with me as friend, bodyguard, or merely as a counter-balance to the assumptions of this unknown, then I am happy to apply at your request, Tsarevna.”
“And when you use my title like that, I think you are swayed by it.”
“I am. But if it were to be Anastasia who asked me to go with you, I think I would believe you were asking because you had real feelings for me, no matter what you said. An imperial princess has additional concerns to merely the question of does she want to go somewhere with a high chance of being pursued by a foreigner just because she's the only single woman around.”
Tatyana looked curiously at Mikhail “Since we're on such dangerous ground already, can I ask, Mikhail Borisovich. Is that why you've always been so infuriatingly unmoved by any of our attempts to get you to show a preference for one of us? Because you don't like the assumption that one of us in going to get you?”
“I expect he didn't think any of us were serious, and that we were just Mikhail-baiting as a form of amusement,” Maria said.
“Well, you were weren't you, Maria?” Anastasia accused.
“Not all the time. He's a nice guy, one of the nicest around, and if you weren't a princess I'd very tempted to go to Ground just so you don't get him all to yourself, Anastasia.”
“Me too!” Tatyana chipped in.
"We now begin our Bible study on the verse 'you shall not covet your princess's boyfriend',” Yulia, who probably had the sharpest humour of the lot of them, said.
Mikhail winced. “I am not the Tsarevna's boyfriend, Yulia. I think I'm her friend, and I guess I now know why she's never played little games about who can out-flirt whom, which is what it's felt like. Just for the record, you're all attractive, you're all Christian, but I don't really trust any of you to not make fun of me except Anastasia, who's not interested and now I discover is so high in the nobility that I never stood a chance. Maybe I shouldn't go to Ground, highness, because I'll keep on hoping it was Anastasia who wanted me to go with her and I might end up pestering you more than the foreigner.” He got up, and reached for his coat, embarrassed at his outburst. But couldn't stop himself saying “and I am a thought hearer, so thank you to those of you who've decided you'd just pushed me too far, yes, you have. Don't blame yourself for bringing up the topic Anastasia, it was them, and history and things like that.”
“Mikhail, wait!” Anastasia said, as he reached for the door handle,
Switching to Mer, which she knew he spoke, she said. “If you must leave, then do not leave without hope. I do not know if it is the princess or Anastasia who asks you to come. But I ask you come, and I ask you to sit beside me, which I've just realised you never do.”
“If you command, I will sit with you, highness.”
“I cannot command you, Mikhail Borisovich. Unless you are a noble yourself?”
“My grandmother had the honour of serving your father's mother, highness. But I am not noble.”
“Then we have much more to talk about than geology. Please?” she moved along the sofa to make space for him.
“What just happened?” Maria asked, not understanding the Mer, or Mikhail's shifting moods, or why he was suddenly sitting down beside her. “Did you just ask him out, Anastasia?”
“No. I just asked him not to leave, he said only if I made it a royal command, I pointed out I can't command commoners, and said 'please' instead.”
“There was more to it than that.”
“A bit,” Anastasia said. “But it's really none of your business, Maria, unless Mikhail Borisovich wishes it known.”
“My grandmother spent many hours in this court, though I don't know which flat,” Mikhail said, “first as a child and then eventually as a royal secretary.”
“Is she still alive?” Anastasia asked.
“Yes. And well cared for, Tsarevna.”
“And your grandfather?”
“He also, though he is not so mobile as he used to be.”
“And they live in St Petersburg?” Anastasia asked, “Or Atlantis, maybe?”
“St Petersburg, though they do visit Atlantis sometimes.”
“You also?”
“I've been a few times, visiting cousins.”
“The things you suddenly learn about someone you think you know!” Maria said.
“All it took was a few questions too.” Tatyana said “And some insider knowledge? You know his grandmother, Anastasia?”
“I think she probably explained spear-fishing to my sisters and me, when I was four or something like that.”
“And you are the one who then tried it in the fish-ponds?” Mikhail asked.
“I did, yes, and your great-grandfather made a crystal cover over them, basically to keep me out.”
A thought occurred to her, and she grabbed his hand [Are you sufficiently Mer to be allowed a rock-cutter, Mikhail?]
[{shock} You hear thoughts?]
[Not at all, I just do this as a reaction to exciting thoughts. Rock-cutter?]
[Yes.]
[And drive your great-grandfather's extruder?]
[I have done.]
[And are you any good at engraving coasters?]
[What on Earth? I'm not bad, if there's a tracing I can follow. I'm not good on the imagination bit. Why are you so excited? ]
[I'm coming over all Martian.] She sprung up and said aloud, “I'm going to the kitchen to make some teas and coffees. Will you walk with
me, Mikhail Borisovich?”
“Certainly,” Mikhail said, then as they got to the kitchen he added, “You realise that was an ambiguous question.”
“And one like it caused all sorts of trouble for your great-grandparents didn't it?”
“You phrased it that way deliberately?”
“Deliberately delightfully dangerously ambiguous. Yes. Can we keep it ambiguous for now? To be revisited when I'm not so excited?”
“What are you excited about?”
“Rachel Ngbila came here to deliver some beautiful cloth to my family, from Ground. A treaty obligation that a third of the first real shipment belongs to the Imperial House. She got it in trade for coasters. Of course, she being famous there, etcetera will get a better deal than we would, but ornately etched crystal coasters are potential trade goods. I can do ornate designs, it's a hobby, but I don't have a rock-cutter.”
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
“Ah, so you're just falling for my access to high technology?”
“No, I just like you and like the way we've got family ties of a sort. And I like the way that you said 'I never stood a chance', which implies you've liked me quite a lot for a long time and I just didn't notice. And all the little kind things that you've said and done take on a slightly different significance.”
“I'm over-stating it to say the others made a game of throwing themselves at me, but...”
“But?”
“If you'd have done it too I don't know if I'd have grabbed you or turned away in disgust.”
“I think Maria might see what I've done as not so different to what she's tried.”
“Urm. That's a scary thought.”
“Then let's resolve ambiguity. I like you, Mikhail. I did not think I had a suitor in you at all, and I prayed this morning that I would not face the situation of a complete stranger being my unwanted suitor. I admit, when I called everyone together, I thought how awkward it would be if only you and one of the others came with me and she had caught your attention before we left, and I sort of hoped there might be another solution.”
“I don't think I've ever seen you this happy.”
“I don't think I've felt this happy recently. But I've done the ambiguous question which could be seen as incredibly flirtatious. I hope you'll allow me to rely on you to resolve ambiguity."
“Are you saying you'd like me to ask you to walk with me?”
“Only if that's what you want to.”
“I'm still confused. And what has the cloth has to do with anything?”
“Can we stick to one topic? Oh, and I'd better put the kettle on too.”
“You most certainly had,” Yulia said coming down the corridor. “Three teas and two coffees, and five of us wanting to know what you were doing grabbing Mikhail's hand and practically dancing down the corridor.”
“I got excited about a trading opportunity.”
“Trade?” Yulia said. “You got excited about trade?”
“About trade and about being allowed to be a bit Martian again,” Anastasia said, “Imperial princesses aren't supposed to have chipped fingernails from gardening work while on Earth, but Mikhail Borisovich has a rock-cutter or can get one, and engraved goods are trade-items on Ground.”
“So it's about trade and getting your fingernails chipped, and nothing about wrapping poor Mikhail Borisovich about your finger?”
“Anastasia's finger would be a much friendlier place to be than being the only worm amongst a flock of birds,” Mikhail said, “which is a bit what it felt like earlier.”
“Sorry,” Yulia said.
“I forgive you.”
“So you two aren't in here planning happily-ever-afters? Even though it looked very much like it?”
“I think that's a bit ambiguous at the moment, isn't it, Tsarevna?” Mikhail asked.
“At the moment, yes.”
“What does that mean?” Yulia asked.
“On one level, it means we're talking, rather than assuming.” Anastasia said,
“On another, it means I'm waiting for Mikhail Borisovich to feel bold enough that he can ask me something. On yet another, it means that perhaps I ought to say now that everyone's invited for dinner tonight.”
“You don't have time to cook for us all, surely?” Yulia asked, getting the cups out of the cupboard. “Or enough dishes.”
“I don't, no. But Mama suggested it would be nice to meet you all, and Daddy agreed, so you're all invited and expected.”
A cup crashed to the floor, and its handle broke.
“Oops. My bad timing, Yulia, don't fret,” Anastasia said.
“You're serious?” Yulia asked.
“I'm going to let Mikhail phone home first,” Anastasia said, “Shall we tell the others before they get hot drinks to spill?”
“I think you ought to, yes.”
“There's the phone, Mikhail. Entirely not bugged, so I'm told, but feel free to ask the person listening in to see if they can confirm it.”
Seeing his confusion she said “that was supposed to be a joke. Sorry. Tell your family, and pass my greetings to your grandparents, too.”
“Tell them what precisely?”
“Well to start with, that you're eating at the palace, that's just polite. You'd better tell them who passed on the invitation too, hadn't you, otherwise it'll be a bit hard to greet your grandparents from me. Just don't let your tea get cold,” she said. Pressing the cup into his hand, she thought to him
[You can tell them what I asked, too, if you like.]
[You asked me to leave things ambiguous until you're not excited any more, then talked about me deciding when to ask. I don't understand.]
[Ignore the request to wait, it was silly. I just want the unambiguous question to come from you,] Anastasia thought to him. And before he could reply, let their fingers separate.
“Tsarevna Anastasia Kristovna, before I talk to my family...”
“Yes, Mikhail Borisovich?”
“Will you walk with me?”
“From Anastasia, the answer is yes. From her Imperial Highness the Tsarevna... I will introduce you tonight as the kind young man who has hoped to ask me to walk with him for a long time, but whose feelings I failed to interpret correctly. If my parents object to the idea, which I do not expect, I will try to convince them. If they still object, I will ask them to not give a definitive answer immediately, and will seek to convince them this evening. If they still object tomorrow... I hope they will not. As a noble my father can command me. Come along, Yulia, don't faint.”
“You didn't notice how he kept looking at you?” Yulia asked.
“No.”
“I think the rest of us all thought you knew but just didn't want to encourage him.”
“Well, let's see if anyone faints at the thought of dinner at the palace, shall we?”
“Or witnessing a stand-up row between you and the Tsar?”
“Probably not,” Anastasia mused. “It's been at least a fortnight since we had one of those at dinner time.”
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MIKHAIL'S HOME
“Svetlana, can you call Mummy?” Mikhail said to his younger sister.
“Mummy's in the kitchen,” his sister said.
“I'm not surprised, the news review is on the radio. Tell her I've been invited to dinner at the palace, and I've got more news too.”
“Oooh, can I listen?”
“Yes, Svetlana, you can listen.”
It didn't take long before his mother came into view.
“Hello Mummy, guess where I am,” Mikhail said.
“That's not your kitchen, and why aren't you at work?”
“Not my kitchen, no. The office Bible study group from university got a Royal invitation to the Duchess of Moscow Court, about the expedition to Ground. Dr Ngbila's actually in St Petersburg and will meet us here later.”
“And you're really going to apply?”
“Yes, mama. Anastasia Kristovna has already been accepted and would like me to go too. Urm, we have decided we'd like to start walking together.”
“Anastasia Kristovna your work colleague? The one who you described as very nice but a bit withdrawn, like she was a secret high noble?”
“Yes, Mummy. This is her flat, and she's a lot more relaxed here. Some of the others have visited but didn't realise, I guess.”
“You're going to be walking together with someone who lives at Duchess of Moscow Court?” his mother asked. The implication was clear to her: a royal relative, and with a patronymic of Kristof, there weren't many possibilities of who she had as a father. His mother could only think of one.
“Yes, Mummy, well, we hope so. Her father needs to give permission. Actually... Anastasia remembers Grandma teaching her about spear fishing and great-grandpa protecting the fish from her, and sends her best wishes to Grandma and Grandpa.”
“But that story was about one of the princesses!” Svetlana burst out.
“Yes, Svetlana, exactly,” Mikhail said. “Can you believe that after working out who I was she actually said, 'I'm going to make tea in the kitchen, will you walk with me?' In memory of great-grandma and great-grandpa?”
Her mother said. “She asked you?”
“Ambiguously, yes. Urm.. context.. The trip to Ground, she's already been accepted, but there's no other single women and one single man on the list too. She said she didn't want that sort of pressure, and then the whole me being the only guy among lots of girls thing was getting a bit out of hand, and I over-reacted and said some things I wouldn't have normally. I'd almost left in acute embarrassment at saying them but then Anastasia called me back. Apparently she didn't have any idea I liked her. Somehow I said something about Grandma working for her Grandma, and she worked out who I was. It's all a bit of a blur since then. But we do like each other, we are unambiguously planning to walk together, assuming she gets her father's permission, and then go to Ground together assuming I pass the interview.”
“Well! How does that work if you don't decide it's not going to work out?”
“I have no idea, mother, no idea at all. Except of course there's just been two semi-royal weddings there. Somehow, I expect we'll come home though.”
“Are we allowed to we meet her?” Svetlana asked.
“Not for dinner tonight, that's certain. I'll have to ask.”
“She's not there?”
“She's letting me tell you in private while she shocks the others with dinner at the palace. I've heard screams of 'I can't wear this to the palace'.”
“You're not exactly in your best suit.”
“I know mummy, so does Anastasia. I don't know if I get to rush home and change or something more complicated happens. Grandma can probably guess better than I can.”
“So can I. At least, I used to get torn away from my homework to go and collect things.”
“Was that bad?” Svetlana asked.
“No, dear. And their Majesties were very good at giving me a letter for school.”
“Mummy?” Svetlana asked. “Did you know the Tsar when he was little?”
“Yes, Svetlana. I was a lot younger than him though. Anything else to say, Mikhail?”
“Just that I love you, mummy, and I've no idea when I'll be home.”
“I'll try to remember to pack your toothbrush too. First impressions count, after all.”
----------------------------------------
DUCHESS OF MOSCOW COURT, 4.30PM
“Sorry, we're so late, it that took longer than we expected,” Rachel said.
“I don't think we've been wasting our time,” Anastasia said, “Let me introduce everyone. Crown prince Albert of the Restored Kingdom, Dr Rachel Ngbila, co-discoverer of Ground, allow me to introduce Mikhail bn Renata bnt Krista Olga Xavier hi Yuri Yelena Mikhail hi Boris bn Zelda Mia Sean hi Thomas Zelda Tristan. If any of those names mean anything to you. Assuming my parents agree, Mikhail Borisovich and I have just worked out that we'd like to walk together. Then, still looking gobsmacked at that news, my true identity and the meal invitation, we have Tatyana, Yulia and Maria, who you will find the most vocal of the group, and then sitting more quietly we have the twins — can I give your positions?”
“Yes, Tsarevna,” the twins said, in unison.
“We have the twins, ladies Freya and Yelena, daughters of grand-duke Yuri of Kaliningrad and Smolensk, who are almost noble, but stand to inherit no title. Interestingly enough, we've worked out that Yelena is named after Mikhail's great-grandmother, Freya is named after a friend of hers and both Yuris are named after the same unorthodox general.”
“It's a small world,” Albert agreed. “And of course I have heard of Yelena and Mikhail; my grandfather knew them in Atlantis. I can't help wondering if Yelena's professional skills were passed down the family, but that's probably a secret.”
“Very probably,” Anastasia said.
“I can assure you that I certainly don't have them,” Mikhail said, “Though I did grow up with a certain familiarity with electronics.”
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THE PALACE, ST PETERSBURG, THURSDAY NIGHT
“Mama, Dada, last but in no means least, I present to you Mikhail Borisovich, whose grandmother taught me spear fishing, whose great grandfather made the crystal covers to protect the fish, and whose Mer great-grandmother flew the prototype guillemot that took General Yuri and his wife to Atlantis to save their daughter.”
“And you have been comparing family trees, my daughter?” the Tsarina asked.
“We have been, mother. And before that, on learning that Mikhail had been hoping for me to realise that it was more than just his kind nature that prompted his kindness to me, and realising that our family histories are so intertwined... I was deliberately ambiguous and quoted his great-grandmother Olga to him.”
“Daughter, are you saying that you asked this young man to walk with you?” the tsar asked.
“I did, father,” Anastasia said, meekly. “I hope I do not disappoint you.”
“I take it this was not a carefully thought out plan?” the Tsar asked.
“Not in great detail, father, but I prefer the attention of someone I know to be a faithful follower of Christ to a foreigner who has not cared about his faith for years. Beyond that...” she didn't finish her thought.
“Do you have regrets already?” her mother asked.
“I like Mikhail, Mother. But I should have consulted my parents first,” she said.
“Ah,” the Tsar said, nodding. “You should have, yes. Alternatively you could have waited until you were safely on your way to Ground to publish your feelings for each other, could you not?”
“Would you have expected that of me, father?” Anastasia asked in the soft, warm, voice that had always had a special place in Mikhail's heart.
“No more than I would of the son of the girl I knew who introduced me to your mother. Ha! I have surprised both of you, I see. What do you think, Valentina? Should they ask Renata about it themselves?”
“Certainly,” the tsarina agreed. “Perhaps tomorrow night, when I presume you plan to invite Anastasia to meet your family, Mikhail?”
“I would be most honoured to do so,” Mikhail said.
“And Anastasia, you must find when it would be convenient for Mikhail's family to come for dinner.”
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FRIDAY NIGHT, MIKHAIL'S HOME
“Svetlana?” Anastasia asked, “how would you describe your walk with God?”
“Urm, OK I guess. I'm not proud of how irregular my quiet times have been this last few weeks. I was much more organised before lectures stopped.”
“How is revision going?”
“Revision is stressful. Future is stressful. Stupid dreams in ruins is stressful. And so on.”
“Stupid dreams?”
“There's a guy at the C.U., who's on my course too... He's nice, funny, we get on well. Well, we used to. In the winter he said he was going to invite me to the grand ball, but he suddenly told me he wasn't going last week. That rather triggered an argument. I don't know what to think now. His final words were that he's really sorry for lying to me but he's been studying under an alias, and he's been told he shouldn't go. I'd been dreaming that he'd maybe propose during the ball, but now I've got a useless ball-gown and shattered dreams, and after the way I screamed at him I've probably not even got a boyfriend. Hence, I came home for a good cry on mum's shoulder. You know the really stupid thing? I thought it was lovely and romantic that we always met in person and never talked by phone. Now I can't call him, I don't know his network ID, I don't know his number, nothing, so I can't say sorry for calling him all the names I did.”
“Does he know yours?”
“I don't even know that, even. He never me asked for it.”
“Want to tell me his alias?”
“Is there some kind of imperial register of aliases?”
“I could ask around, certainly. But... your ball-gown isn't useless. Feel free to wear it when you come.”
“When I come?” Svetlana asked, confused.
“Oops, I didn't say, did I? You're all invited to the palace for dinner. Tomorrow night is possible, as are Monday, Wednesday and Thursday. And if you tell me you're going to wear your ball gown, and you don't mind, then I'll wear my new dress, so Mikhail can see what got me so excited. Have you said anything about that Mikhail?”
“Urm, I don't think I know about your new dress.”
“Yes you do,” Anastasia said, “the one with the colour-changing fabric from Ground.”
“You mentioned the fabric, not anything about a dress.”
“Well what else would you do with a gorgeous silky luxury fabric?” Anastasia asked the room in general.
“Well, you could make it into a blouse or a skirt,” Renata offered. “So you think you might be able to send some apologies to Svetlana's friend for calling him names? What was his alias, Timor Yureivich?”
“Yes,” Svetlana confirmed.
“Urm, maybe. You're at the Imperial University?”
“No, Smolensk.”
“Hmm. How much of his background did he tell you?”
“He said he was the youngest in his family, needed to do really well because he needed to get a good job and his Dad wasn't going to support him after university and he didn't like the idea of a military future. Oh, and he had a sister who earned a study place on Mars, but he didn't even apply.”
“That ought to shorten the list,” Mikhail said, “Did he say why not?”
“He said his sister liked risks, but he didn't. But for all I know the whole lot is a lie.”
“So...” Anastasia said, “on the assumption that I manage to find out which noble this Timor Yureivich is, and I decide he's not going to be a total embarrassment, or he's been lying about far more than you think, what do you think of the idea of me extending the invitation to him too? Whoever has been advising him about risks can't object to a private ball at the palace, now, can they?”
Svetlana blushed, “I don't want him to come just because of where he's being invited to.”
“I'll be cautious, have no fear,” Anastasia said.
“I was going to suggest that tomorrow night was a good time for us,” Renata said, “but surely it'll take a while to find out who it is?”
“I have some ideas already, Renata. Let us leave it that if it is who I think it might be, I'll get father to order him to be there, and if it's not then I'm sure my sisters will have no objection to lending Svetlana one of my brothers for the evening.”
“And your brothers don't get a vote?” Mikhail asked.
“My brothers, as far as I'm aware, have entirely failed to form any emotional attachments amongst staff, daughters of staff, and anyone else they've been in regular contact with, and probably need to practice their dancing skills. Unless of course they've been hiding things from me,” she shrugged. “Which reminds me, Renata... Daddy says I need to thank you for introducing him to mummy, and thus my existence.”
“He said that?”
“Yes. Well, not in those exact words. He said we ought to ask you.”
“When I was eight or something like that, after a sermon at church on marriage, he said something like if he didn't find someone to marry in the next ten years, then would I consider marrying him. I probably burst into tears ran to your mother, who was my Sunday school teacher; and I know I told her he was teasing me. She didn't recognise who he was — I'm pretty sure she didn't expect the Tsareovich in jeans and a tee-shirt — and let him know exactly what she thought of a twenty plus year old bully reducing a little girl to tears. Who did he think he was, and so on. If I remember correctly she got him to formally apologise to me, and I said something like pick on people his own size, like Valentina. And he agreed that was a much better idea, did I think she'd make a good tsarina and I said something like of course she would, and remembered to put a 'your highness' on the end.”
“What did mum say to that?”
“She didn't,” Renata's mother, Krista, said. “She'd noticed that she'd barged past a number of smartly dressed and very athletic looking visitors in her anger, and that everyone had gone absolutely silent. And so she heard him ask Renata what she thought of her as tsarina and her reply, and I think she was just about on the verge of fainting at the thought of publicly shaming the heir to the throne. Your father spotted me in the crowd of interested bystanders and asked me to do the formal introductions. But getting back to Svetlana's mysterious maybe-boyfriend, don't you even have one picture of him, girl?”
“Urm, yes, I do. I don't know if he knows I do though. He doesn't like being in photographs.”
“It's a security thing,” Anastasia said. “Someone might recognise him and blow his cover. Woo-hooo, not much cover there, is there? You sure you're not just after him for his muscles, Svetlana?” It was a beach volleyball game from earlier in the spring.
“He's nice. The muscles were a pleasant surprise.”
“Personally I find him a bit annoying, but OK, you didn't grow up with him pulling your hair seemingly every chance he got when he was three to six. So, good news: I know who he is when he's not hiding, he's at the palace pretty often, he looked pretty miserable when I saw him yesterday, and I know where he lives. So, I predict he will be there tomorrow. Bad news: you need to keep that photo very much to yourself, Svetlana, or even better, talk to him about getting it properly deleted. You've got recognisable buildings in the background which make it even more risky. Also... sometimes he does get sent places, delivering messages for my dad, that sort of thing. If he's not going to be there, I'll definitely collar him, pass on your apology, and tell him to visit. OK?”
“So he is a high noble?”
“Yes. Details beyond that, I'll let him tell you in person.”
“No clues?” Svetlana asked.
“No. Oh! I forgot to say...”
“Yes?”
“Do not be surprised if you see increased patrols around, you find yourselves being discretely followed, and so on. I'm afraid it goes with the territory of having a princess over for tea.”
“We figure on the kidnap-risk lists again?” Renata asked.
“Of course we do,” her mother said, “Absolutely no question about it.”
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THE PALACE, ST PETERSBURG, FRIDAY EVENING.
“Tibor, talk,” Anastasia commanded her little brother.
“The sky is dark. The sun will not come up until it's morning.”
“Truth,” she agreed, “but not in any way explaining the pile of shredded paper in that dustbin, or the misery on your face.”
“How do you tell someone you really like that you hope she'll change her mind about dumping you?”
“Do mum and dad know you've got a girlfriend?”
“I don't have a girlfriend. Not any more.”
“OK, did you tell mum and dad you had a girlfriend?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I wasn't planning on getting dumped.”
“What did you do to get dumped? Insult her deeply?”
“Probably. I suddenly realised that everyone going to the university ball got photographed. And I can't get photographed, can I?”
“Hmm. Did you say that to her?”
“I tried.”
“You've actually got a bigger problem, little brother.”
“What's that?”
“I've just had tea with her. You forgot to swap family trees, and then you didn't talk to Mummy and Daddy, and not only that, she's got a lovely photograph of you playing beach-volleyball.”
“You... you talked to her?”
“I told her she ought to talk to you about getting that picture properly deleted. You're not out and about tomorrow evening, are you?”
“No. What's happening tomorrow evening?”
“Family visit. You were so miserable you didn't hear what we were saying last night, weren't you? The mother of my Mikhail and your Svetlana is Renata bnt Krista Olga Xavier hi Yuri Yelena Mikhail. Their father, Boris, is half-mer by blood, Mer by upbringing, and grandson of the Zelda who flew the guillemot which took General Yuri to Atlantis. Faithful friends on all sides of the family. Have you given your Svetlana any oath or promise, Tibor?”
“I have not given an oath. But I have said I must break a promise. And she said she never wants to see me again.”
“You upset her and ruined her dreams; surprise, surprise, she wasn't happy. She's now changed her mind, and when I met her she was calling herself a fool for not having any way to tell you that. Saying you must break a promise is not the same as breaking a promise, little brother. If you want my advice, then consider other options, consider talking to Mummy and Daddy about her, and consider brushing up your Mer for when you apologise.”
“What other options?”
“Failing anything else, you could just take along a bodyguard to stand in front of the camera when they try to photograph you. Alternatively, buy me and Mikhail some tickets and I'll go and show off my lovely new dress. Bing, lots of bodyguards and not many cameras at all.”
“Anastasia!”
“What? Why not? I might not need the tickets, actually, since I'm royal patron of the charity the ball is in aid of. But let's not play that card, it smacks of corruption. What would the risks be, really? Surprise royal visit, they happen all the time, relatively speaking.”
“Have I told you I love you, big sister?”
“Not recently. Just promise not to pull my hair and I'll love you back.”
“If Svetlana's half Mer, at least culturally...”
“She can disembowel sharks, I expect, yes.”
“I was just wondering about that Mer dance...”
“The one with the knives? Oh, yes, that'd liven up the ball, certainly,” Anastasia grinned.
“I was thinking how nice it would be if she shared her knife with me.”
“You definitely need to talk to our parents before you ask that one, Tibor. Not to mention hers.”
“Yes. I suppose so.”
“How long have you been walking together?”
“Almost this whole academic year. I noticed her earlier, of course.”
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LETTER TO SVETLANA, FROM 'TIMOR YUREIVICH', DELIVERED BY SPECIAL COURIER, 1AM
Svetlana, I know I said that I would have to break my promise to you. I did not want to, and in my distress at thinking of cameras, I was not thinking clearly. I have been trying to write this letter to you all day, but now I have heard from A., who says she has an excuse to wear her new dress at our ball, and will bring with her appropriate company. Thus cameras are much less a problem than I feared, and I can keep my promise. She also chided me for not comparing family trees, and told me of some of your famous ancestors. Did your father raise you as Mer? I am very pleased we are not close cousins. I am most glad you only lashed me with your tongue and did not decide I was a shark and needed disemboweling. I cannot write in Mer, I am sorry, but my spoken Mer has been described as 'not terrible'. Perhaps you can help me improve? I expect you can swim circles around me, and wonder if I actually saw you in Atlantis last summer?
I do not desire to break any promise I make to you, Svetlana, nor make myself shark or sharkfood. But I have not yet had the courage to speak to my parentsabout you at all, and I expect they are asleep. I give you my oath that unless they are unexpectedly called away, I will do so before we meet tomorrow. Oh, correction, before we meet later today. I pray that you sleep well. I will also tell the courier to deliver this letter quietly. I hope he remembers. If you wish to berate me before that meeting, then excepting meal-times and the time I will need to clean up, before dinner, I'll be keeping fit by helping the gardeners deal with some dead wood in the garden of the meeting place. Assuming I'm not totally forgetful, the gate-keepers will be told you might turn up. If I am totally forgetful, or they object to your I.D. for some reason, then I expect the seal on this letter will cause them to fetch me. Your humble servant, T.
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