You also want an ePaper? Increase the reach of your titles
YUMPU automatically turns print PDFs into web optimized ePapers that Google loves.
Filip did not answer her at once. Perhaps this hesitation was a type of calculated torture,<br />
perhaps merely the result of his preoccupation with his breakfast. He pierced another yolk and<br />
yellow spilled across his plate. He requested them barely done, these eggs, liked them as runny as<br />
possible, and if he was not in the tsar’s own guard, Tatiana had little doubt that her husband would<br />
truly prefer to swill the yolks raw from a glass. The social nuances of the imperial court were a<br />
perpetual mystery to Filip. He enjoyed the benefits of being within the circle of the tsar’s most<br />
trusted staff – Tatiana herself was one of those benefits – but was still ill-at-ease with the constant<br />
ceremonies of life within the Winter Palace.<br />
“Two dancers killed themselves,” he finally said. “They were to play Romeo and Juliet in the<br />
ballet next week. Original, yes?” He grinned at her, showing the square white teeth which always<br />
seemed just a bit too small for his beefy face, clearly amused by his little joke.<br />
“Who were they?”<br />
“I told you. Ballet dancers. “<br />
“Yes, but what were their names?”<br />
He shrugged. “Do ballet dancers have names?”<br />
Tatiana hesitated. “They’re sure that it was a double suicide? And not something else?”<br />
“What else would it be?”<br />
“Murder might be posed to look like suicide.”<br />
“Who would want them dead?” He pierced another yolk, then dragged a crust of bread through<br />
the gelatinous puddle. “They were nobodies.”<br />
As soon as Filip was out of the apartment, Tatiana dressed. She did not call for her maid, who<br />
was probably somewhere having her own breakfast or gossiping with a gaggle of servants. Tatiana<br />
was a lounger and often returned to her bed after breakfast, most generally not ringing for assistance<br />
in dressing until noon. So she struggled unattended into a smocked dress designed to be worn over<br />
her swim costume at the coast and thus reasonably easy to don in a rush. Once she was suitably<br />
covered, she pulled on her shoes and exited the front door, looking both left and right as she stepped<br />
into the hall, craning her neck like a character in some absurd comic play.
Change language