Prince of Dreams (Stokehurst #2)(40)

The stale air was stirred as Emma and the two Sidarova girls, Rashel and Marinka, dragged an unwieldy trunk from the corner. Having discovered five locked storage rooms on the top floor of the Angelovsky manor, Emma had asked Nikolas what they contained. He had shrugged indifferently and replied, “Old family possessions from the palace in St. Petersburg. Dishes, carvings, ornaments—nothing very remarkable. Look through them if you like.”

Emma's curiosity ran rampant at the idea. She requested the key to the rooms from the housekeeper, Mrs. Evstafyeva, a rotund and cheerful woman who ran the household with remarkable efficiency. “Take the Sidarova sisters to help you,” she had suggested. “Whatever you wish to have carried downstairs and cleaned, they will do it. Good, strong girls, both of them.”

Emma had liked the suggestion. Rashel and Marinka were remarkably similar. Both girls had chestnut hair, winning smiles, and cheerfully pragmatic temperaments. Using tools purloined from the carriage house, the three of them settled in one of the storage rooms and opened crates and trunks, knocking off small gilt hinges and locks. To Emma's delight, they uncovered some relics of the Angelosky past—a bear rug trimmed with gold braid, a lady's silver toiletry set, a carved wooden box filled with embroidered veils.

“How beautiful!” Emma exclaimed, gingerly unfolding one of the frail lengths of silk. “I wonder what these are for.”

The Sidarova sisters exclaimed in pleasure and examined the contents of the box. “They are used to cover a woman's hair, Your Highness,” Rashel said. She reached past the veils and extracted a gold circlet that had been bent on one side to form a delicate peak. A single tear-shaped ruby dangled from the point. “Shall I show you how it is worn?” she asked.

Emma nodded and remained sitting on the floor, while Rashel stood to drape the pearl-encrusted veil over her hair. Next she arranged the diadem so that the ruby lay against the center of Emma's forehead. “Married women must cover all their hair, to hide it from a stranger's eyes,” Rashel explained, standing back to view her with satisfaction. She gave Emma the hand mirror from the silver toiletry set. “But a maiden arranges the cloth so the top of her head is left exposed.”

Emma squinted at her reflection in the cloudy, distorted glass. “I feel quite exotic,” she said with a laugh, reaching up to feel the ruby on her forehead.

“It is pretty on you,” Rashel commented.

Marinka nodded in agreement. “You look very Russian, Your Highness.”

“Let's see what else we can find!” Emma removed the diadem and veil and continued to dig through the trunk. There were beautiful woven shawls and squares of lace, antique combs made of bone, faded silk shoes and purses covered with glinting gems. “Look at this,” she said, holding up one of the little jeweled bags. The rose silk was embroidered with a Russian Cyrillic character that resembled the letter E.

Rashel examined the purse closely. “That may have belonged to the wife of Prince Nikolai the First. Her name was Emelia.”

“Really? Nikolas mentioned her to me once. She was his distant grandmother, wasn't she?”

Rashel nodded. “Dah, Emelia was a peasant woman from a village near St. Petersburg. Would you like to hear the story of Nikolai and Emelia?”

“By all means,” Emma said, crossing her legs and settling herself more comfortably. By now she had noticed that the Russian household servants all shared the habit of telling entertaining tales at every opportunity. They always began the same way: Once, a very long time ago…Or sometimes, Once, in an age long gone by…Emma looked at Rashel expectantly, waiting for the story to commence.

The maid's eyes sparkled with enjoyment. “Once, long ago, there was an iron-willed prince named Nikolai. He was the most valiant of boyars, and so handsome that even the sun envied him for his brightness. But Nikolai was never touched by love. Over the years his heart grew a shell of hard, cold stone.

“When it came time for Prince Nikolai to marry, he commanded that all the young maidens from Moskva and surrounding lands be brought to him, and he would choose from among them. Five hundred beautiful maidens came in hopes of becoming his bride. He moved among them and dismissed one girl after another, bestowing a gold coin on each one.

“As Nikolai finally despaired of ever finding a maiden to please him, he caught sight of Emelia, a lovely peasant girl. The sun had touched her hair with its rays, and made it shine like the magical gold-and-red feathers of a firebird. The longer Prince Nikolai stared at the beautiful light, the more warmth he felt in his heart, until the stone shell melted away. ‘This is my bride,’ Nikolai said, and lifted Emelia in his arms, carrying her away to his palace. The rest of the disappointed maidens were sent back to their families. Prince Nikolai and Emelia were married, to the great rejoicing of everyone in the land. They shared a great love, and conceived a child…but then the story turns tragic.”

“Why?” Emma asked, intrigued in spite of herself. “What happened?”

“Soon after their marriage, Prince Nikolai fell out of favor with the tsar, and many jealous boyars used the opportunity to turn on him. Nikolai was thrown in prison, where he took ill and died. Princess Emelia nearly died also, from grief. She went to a convent to hide from her enemies, and there she bore Nikolai's son in secret. The boy grew to be as noble and handsome as his father had been, and he became one of the most powerful men in Russia—one of the consorts of Empress Elizabeth.”