ROMANOV AUTUMN
Chapter Fifty-Five

That night, Mac helped her father pack the meager amount of belongings they owned, unable to contain her excitement.

"Can you believe we'll be living at the palace?" she breathed, watching as her father wrote a letter to Aunt Olivia in America.

"It still feels like a strange dream," Jack replied. "Did you have fun with the girls today?"

"Mostly," Mac replied. "I don't know. Maria is nice enough, but the others don't seem to like me much."

Jack kissed her forehead tenderly. "Give them time, sweetheart," he encouraged. "Just be yourself, and I'm sure they'll come around."

Mac gave him a hug and followed the motion of his hand as he continued writing.

She could barely sit still that night, imagining her new life at the palace. Mac wondered if she would ever see her friend Raisa again, and felt saddened by the idea that she might not.

When Mac brought the subject up after they lay down in bed, Jack glanced at her.

"Honey, there won't be any time for good-byes, I'm afraid." He yawned, excusing himself, and Mac pulled the blankets to her chin. "I'm sure you could send her a letter once we get settled."

That didn't seem like enough; Raisa was the primary reason she chose to sneak through the palace gates, and Mac was stunned by her good fortune. She could have been in jail now, cold, starving, and alone in the dark. Mac shuddered at the idea and moved closer to her father. When she finally fell asleep, she dreamt of kings and queens who treated her exactly like one of their own.

They awoke at dawn and made certain everything was in place. Mac frowned when her father's cough started again, though he tried to appear perfectly healthy.

No food remained in the icebox, but Mac was hopeful that the Tsar would serve them breakfast at the palace when they arrived.

"That's not something I would mention, honey," Jack warned. "Let the Tsar do as he planned."

Mac nodded, wondering how she would get along with the Grand Duchesses. Maria's excited face stuck in her mind, but it was not strong enough to outweigh the sneers of Olga, Tatiana, and Anastasia.

"Papa? Who are you going to be guarding?" Mac asked as they sat waiting for the imperial motor car to arrive.

"The Tsarevich," Jack replied. "The Tsar's son."

"How come I didn't see him yesterday?" Mac asked, confused. She only spent time with the four girls, but none of them mentioned a brother.

"I don't know, sweetheart." Jack covered his mouth with his fist and started to cough roughly again, his chest tightening.

Before Mac could reply, they heard the sound of a motor car turning the corner, and both stood at once. It pulled to a stop in front of the shack, and passers-by stopped to stare as a well-dressed driver helped them with their bags.

"Thank you," Jack said, but the driver did not respond.

"I'm so happy, Papa," Mac spoke once they sat in the car and headed away from the narrow, dirty St. Petersburg streets. Jack smiled at her, but that expression faded when his chest tightened again. He felt the urge to cough, but though he tried to fight against it, he lost horribly.

Mac watched as he coughed repeatedly and gave her father a pat on the back.

"Maybe you could have a check-up by the Tsar's doctor," she suggested. "You've been coughing a lot today."

Jack eventually calmed down, though his chest screamed with pain from the effort. "I'll be all right, honey," he promised, smoothing her hair. "No need to worry."

Mac frowned--she knew arguing with her father wouldn't do any good. She leaned against him, waiting anxiously for the motor car to arrive at the palace gates.

When it did, a footman handled the luggage, clearly used to a lot more. Jack always believed in living with the bare essentials, and only traveled with one bag. Mac had two suitcases full of clothes due to her relatives who spoiled her quite well in America.

Mac greeted Jim as she had the day before and kept her mouth shut while the footman brought them to their rooms. "His highness insists you both get settled before coming to see him," he explained, and Jack nodded in understanding.

Soon, a maid took charge of Mac, leading her in the direction of the Grand Duchesses’ rooms, waiting while Jack bent down to give his daughter a hug and a kiss.

"Be good, honey," he said, and Mac shot him an anxious look.

Jack followed the footman to another hallway filled with doors, and wondered just how many rooms the palace contained. "Five hundred, sir," the footman replied when Jack inquired, and he stared.

"Good gracious!" He couldn't imagine having that much space to deal with, though according to the footman the imperial family only occupied one section of the palace chosen by Alexandra herself.

When the footman opened the door to the selected guestroom, Jack peered in. It was much larger than the one he used while living with Mr. Rockefeller, and certainly larger than his parent's bedroom in Wisconsin. He thanked the footman before he left and walked through the door. He was hit with a strong smell of lavender, and realized there were flowers surrounding the open windows. Jack's nose immediately began to itch, and he tried desperately not to sneeze while he unpacked his things.

Eventually, the tickle grew too strong and he fetched his handkerchief, sneezing violently. "Goodness! God bless you, sir!" a female voice spoke from the hall, and Jack jumped at the sudden noise.

He peered out and saw a maid coming by, wearing a black dress and a black ribbon in her dark hair. "Thank you," Jack replied.

"Are you the new guard the Tsarina was talking about?" she asked, and Jack nodded, excusing himself to sneeze again. "God bless again! I hope you're not coming down with a cold!"

"No," Jack croaked. "I'm afraid the smell of lavender is making me sneeze rather badly."

The maid frowned, and Jack felt his cheeks grow warm with embarrassment.

"That could be fixed easily," she replied, coming into the room. "We'll just remove the flowers and I'll be sure to tell the Tsarina you would prefer to do without."

"Oh, that's not necessary..." Jack sneezed for the third time, and the maid clicked her tongue.

"It is necessary," she insisted. "I will remove them straight away. Do not worry...we want you to be comfortable."

"Well, thank you very much," Jack said with a faint smile. "I'm sorry. I didn't catch your name."

"Nadia," she replied, and Jack nodded politely.

"My pleasure," he croaked. "Thank you very much again." He watched as she scurried into the room, removing one pot of lavender after another, and the smell began to disappear after a couple of minutes.

Jack put his clothes away in the dresser, shaking his head with bewilderment.

The butler who had brought him to his room came to find him a half hour later, knocking politely on the door.

"His majesty will see you now," the older man announced once Jack opened it, and he smiled.

"Thank you," he replied, and as he followed the butler, he thought about his daughter in the nursery.

Meanwhile, Mac sat eating breakfast with the four Grand Duchesses, having unpacked her things and set up her area rather quickly. The five of them used a small round table covered in a white lace cloth, and were positioned so the sunlight streamed through the window in their general direction.

According to Maria, the children lived an entirely separate life from the adults. Very rarely did they see their parents, maybe once or twice a day.

"We wake up early every morning, take baths, eat breakfast, and spend most of the morning and afternoon in lessons."

"Not you, of course," Anastasia added in a haughty voice. "You'll have to spend the whole day by yourself!" She stuck out her tongue and shoved a forkful of pancake into her mouth.

Mac frowned, glancing at Maria, who had given her younger sister a warning look. "Of course she won't be alone the whole day," she insisted.

"And she's too young to be with us, anyway," Olga added. "Tatiana and I didn't start taking lessons until we were eight."

Mac poked at the food on her plate, not feeling particularly hungry. Funny how that changed in such a short period of time! When she left the shack in the heart of the St. Petersburg peasant community at dawn, her stomach would not stop growling with hunger. Now that she sat with food on her plate, she feared she might be sick if she ate anymore.

Not once did the Tsar's son appear in the nursery, and Mac did not feel comfortable asking about him.

After breakfast, she watched as the girls prepared themselves for their lessons, grabbing several books, paper, and pencils. Anastasia shoved past Mac, nearly knocking her flat, on her way through the nursery door.

This is going to be a very long day, Mac thought, sighing heavily once the girls disappeared entirely.

After a short while, the Grand Duchesses’ nurse, Shura, kept a close eye on Mac for the early half of the afternoon. She allowed Mac to explore the entire floor, warning her not to open any doors that were closed.

"They are shut for a purpose," Shura explained, and that only made Mac more curious.

As she wandered, Mac swore she heard what sounded like wailing in the distance and stopped short. She couldn't tell exactly where the cry came from, and wondered at first if she were imagining things.

"What is that?" she whispered to herself, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling. "Perhaps the palace is haunted! It ought to be, with how many have lived and died here!"

"The wind," Shura explained after she inquired of the noise a short while later, once she returned to the nursery for luncheon.

"A very strange wind!" Mac thought out loud just as Olga and Tatiana trooped through the door, looking quite triumphant.

"I'm sure you're quite bored," Olga announced.

"No," Mac replied. "There was lots to do!"

"Don't be silly," Tatiana added. "Of course there isn't."

"She kept busy for quite a while," Shura explained to the older girls, who stared at Mac in confusion.

"Doing what, I wonder? Snooping?" Olga accused, and Mac felt her cheeks grow warm.

"‘Course I didn't!" she promised. "I just use my imagination, that's all. I did a lot of waiting around when I lived in the city!"

"Bah!" Olga plopped down on one of the couches by the open window, gazing over the palace grounds. "Arithmetic is just dreadful. Honestly, I would much rather practice the piano all morning instead."

"Such pig and filth, isn't it?" Anastasia asked, coming in at that moment, and dropped her books on the floor the first chance she got.

"You shouldn't talk like that," Maria scolded, and Anastasia gave her a look.

"Like what?" Anastasia folded her arms. "It's not like Mama and Papa are here to listen. Only her, and what could she do?"

Mac scowled, but her eyes lit up a moment later when she saw her father approaching the nursery. "Daddy!" she called, and the four princesses whirled around at once, watching as Jack lifted his daughter into his arms, planting a kiss on her forehead.

"I'm sorry, honey," he apologized, and smiled at the others. "Hello, girls," he added, and Mac noticed how pink Olga and Tatiana's cheeks had become. "I'll bring her back soon, I promise," he told the Grand Duchesses, who merely giggled in response.

As they headed down the hall, Mac heard the same sound as before, what reminded her of a child crying, and looked at her father with wide eyes.

"Listen," she whispered, and Jack stopped walking.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked, and Mac held up her hand, hearing nothing again.

"I keep hearing what sounds like a person crying," she explained, and watched as he stiffened slightly.

"It's just the wind, Mac," Jack encouraged. "No need to be frightened. This is a big place, and you're not used to it yet."

Mac scowled, following close behind her father, clutching his hand when she heard the noise again. "So, you were gone a long time," she pointed out once they went into his room, and Mac climbed onto the large, comfortable bed.

"Mac, honey, the Tsar has brought up a proposition for me. You are a bit young yet, but would you be interested in taking lessons with Anastasia and Maria?"

"Lessons?" Mac exclaimed. "Really?"

Jack laughed at her enthusiasm. "Yes," he replied. "I've always thought you would be a great student. You're already wise for your years, honey."

"Thank you," Mac said, blushing. "When would I start?"

Jack squeezed her hand gently. "Well, you'll meet with the tutors tomorrow, and they will give you a couple of tests to see where you stand."

Mac grinned. "Wonderful!" She bounced up and down, thrilled by the prospect of being taught by the imperial tutors.

"And the reason I pulled you away from the nursery is because the Tsarina has requested that she meet you personally," Jack added, and Mac felt her mouth drop.

"She has?" she asked, and Jack nodded.

"Yes. So, I wanted to be sure you washed up and were dressed properly before bringing you to her."

Mac groaned, allowing him to wash her face and hands and to smooth the wrinkles from her clothes.

When they were sent for, Mac felt her heart racing and was glad she hadn't eaten much at breakfast.

The maid knocked on the door of the Mauve Room, as the Tsarina apparently called it, and Mac felt her breath catch in her throat after hearing, "Come in!"

She looked at her father anxiously, and both turned just as the door opened slowly.

Chapter Fifty-Six
Stories