Anastasia Romanov: The Last Grand Duchess #10 by Ann Hood Page A

involved lots of kicking and spinning, but Maisie’s legs got tangled together, and she got so dizzy trying to keep up with Alex when she spun around that she knocked into two other dancers. Usually, something like that would make her feel embarrassed, but the dancers and Alex just laughed good-naturedly. “Maybe no more spinning,” Alex said. Instead, he concentrated on trying to teach her the secret to such rapid kicking.
    Even though Maisie had a good time, she hardly saw Felix during the entire celebration. He was swept away by Anastasia, sending Maisie a wave across the banquet table and a shrug as he helped hand out Easter eggs to the schoolchildren of Yalta who filed in the next morning. If it wasn’t for Alex Andropov, Maisie decided, she would have had another terrible time, and Felix would have been clueless, as usual.
    When the festivities were finally over and everyone went to rest, Felix passed Maisie in the hallway. He was, of course, following Anastasia.
    â€œWasn’t that great?” he asked Maisie.
    He didn’t wait for her to answer. He just kept walking.
    â€œIt was great!” Maisie shouted after him.
    Anastasia turned and grinned at Maisie.
    â€œJust wait until we leave for Finland next month,” she said. “That’s lots of fun, too.”
    Finland? There was no way, Maisie decided right then and there, that she was sticking around long enough to go to Finland.

Chapter Eight
    ALEX ANDROPOV’S THREAT
    B ut Maisie had never been more wrong in her life. She and Felix did board the Imperial yacht,
Standart
, along with Alex Andropov and the entire royal family. Even though Felix looked anxious, Maisie decided to stay mad at him. Anastasia and Maria were both stuck to him like Velcro, so Maisie explored the yacht by herself.
    The decks were all white—awnings, wicker tables, wicker chairs.
    Maisie went below, wandering through dozens of rooms with rich wood paneling and sparkling chandeliers.
    â€œOh! Excuse me,” murmured a man who bumped into her with his trumpet case.
    â€œPardon me,” said a man right behind him. This man carried an enormous tuba case.
    â€œPardon,” said the next man. He held a strange-shaped instrument in his hand. It had a long neck and a triangle-shaped body with just three strings.
    â€œWhat is that?” Maisie asked him.
    The man looked at her as if she were either crazy or dumb. “A balalaika,” he said, reminding Maisie of how Great-Uncle Thorne sounded when she and Felix didn’t know something that he thought was completely obvious.
    â€œWhere are you all going?” she asked another man with a balalaika.
    â€œTo our rooms,” he answered. “Below.”
    â€œYou’re going to Finland?” she asked. “An entire orchestra?”
    â€œJust the brass,” he said. “And the balalaikas,” he added, holding up his.
    Maisie continued her exploration, having to stop again for what appeared to be the Royal Army, and then again when Olga came rushing up to her.
    â€œWe’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Olga said, breathlessly. “You need to meet your sailor.”
    â€œ
My
sailor?” Maisie said as Olga pulled her along.
    â€œWe each get one,” Olga said. “They’re divine. Really lovely.”
    Maisie glimpsed what appeared to be the Imperial Navy fleet surrounding the yacht.
    â€œAre they coming from there?” she asked Olga.
    Olga barely glanced at the ships.
    â€œNo, no,” she said. “They just escort our ship.”
    At Livadia, it had been easy to forget just how imperial the Imperial Family was. But rushing along the
Standart
that morning to meet her own personal sailor, with the army and the navy fleet and the orchestra, Maisie realized that she was in the presence of something she’d never experienced before. And in that moment, she began to understand why the people of Russia began a revolution.
    It