That had to explain her desire to rely on anyone other than herself, especially an invisible God.
Her mind wasn’t working properly. She was confused over her mistake in the admiral’s private quarters, stunned by her strange reactions to her new partner. Surely that explained her leaning to set aside her disillusionment and put her trust in a silent God.
The loud knock on the door made her jump. Happy for the interruption, she took a deep breath and checked the time. Her mother and fiancé were a full twenty minutes early for their scheduled outing with Katia.
Moving back to her dressing table, Katia studied her reflection in the mirror. She looked too haggard, too world-weary for the part she must play this morning.
Breathing deeply, she took a long, slow blink. The gesture wiped away the creases of worry on her brow. Another blink settled a vacant look into her eyes. A quick sigh, one last shudder, and finally she became the royal princess with little on her mind beyond the superficial. “Much better.”
She thought she was back in control. Until the minute she opened the front door and the cold wind slapped ice-edged fingers against her face. Forcing a silly smile on her face, Katia braced against the frigid attack and took in the sight of her visitors.
Dressed in a cashmere coat made in her signature color of soft blue, Elena Kerensky stood arm in arm with her fiancé. Both held themselves proud and precise. But where Elena’s arrogance came from her royal breeding, Schmidt’s haughtiness had a sheen that was equalparts brutality and condescension. On closer inspection, his tailor-made Kriegsmarine overcoat looked like the work of Wilhelm Holters, the premier tailor of the Third Reich.
Nothing but the best for this Nazi.
Katia hid her cynicism behind a little sigh of pleasure. “Mother. Hermann. What a lovely surprise. You’re early.”
“I’m afraid I was the eager one,” Elena said. “I so want you to get to know Hermann better.”
She lifted an adoring look at her companion and squeezed his arm. Schmidt smiled down at Elena with similar admiration. But Katia thought she recognized a look of cunning flash in his eyes.
Did he sense Elena’s secret? Did he have a dark plan already in place?
Before Katia could pursue the frightening thought, Schmidt turned his bold scrutiny on to her. “May we come in? Or are we to stand on your doorstep all morning?”
The man was, beyond question, the most arrogant Nazi Katia knew. And considering the company she kept, that was saying a lot.
Tread carefully with this one, Katia.
Hidden beneath several layers of foolish woman, she cocked her head at an agreeable angle. “Oh, dear, forgive me. Do come in.”
She moved to her left, blessing them both with a happy smile as they passed by.
Once inside, Schmidt turned on his heel and handedKatia the bouquet of roses he’d been holding behind his back.
“For you,” he said. “I understand they are your favorite.”
He held her stare with a challenging look in his gaze.
Katia remained expressionless, fiercely so, but her mind raced in frantic chaos.
She hated white roses. No, she detested them. They reminded her of happier days when her father would bring a bouquet to both her and her mother for no particular reason.
Elena knew of Katia’s aversion. Why would she allow Schmidt to make this cruel gesture?
A test, perhaps? But who was running the show, Schmidt or her mother? And was Katia supposed to react with outrage or complacency?
To avoid revealing her confusion, she quickly took the bouquet and buried her nose in the blooms. The scent made her stomach churn in anguish and a sense of loss besieged her. How she missed her beloved father. His faith had been strong, even in the moment of his death.
In comparison, Katia’s faith was weak, practically nonexistent. But she was growing weary of relying only on herself and her quick thinking. They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength.
She
Her mind wasn’t working properly. She was confused over her mistake in the admiral’s private quarters, stunned by her strange reactions to her new partner. Surely that explained her leaning to set aside her disillusionment and put her trust in a silent God.
The loud knock on the door made her jump. Happy for the interruption, she took a deep breath and checked the time. Her mother and fiancé were a full twenty minutes early for their scheduled outing with Katia.
Moving back to her dressing table, Katia studied her reflection in the mirror. She looked too haggard, too world-weary for the part she must play this morning.
Breathing deeply, she took a long, slow blink. The gesture wiped away the creases of worry on her brow. Another blink settled a vacant look into her eyes. A quick sigh, one last shudder, and finally she became the royal princess with little on her mind beyond the superficial. “Much better.”
She thought she was back in control. Until the minute she opened the front door and the cold wind slapped ice-edged fingers against her face. Forcing a silly smile on her face, Katia braced against the frigid attack and took in the sight of her visitors.
Dressed in a cashmere coat made in her signature color of soft blue, Elena Kerensky stood arm in arm with her fiancé. Both held themselves proud and precise. But where Elena’s arrogance came from her royal breeding, Schmidt’s haughtiness had a sheen that was equalparts brutality and condescension. On closer inspection, his tailor-made Kriegsmarine overcoat looked like the work of Wilhelm Holters, the premier tailor of the Third Reich.
Nothing but the best for this Nazi.
Katia hid her cynicism behind a little sigh of pleasure. “Mother. Hermann. What a lovely surprise. You’re early.”
“I’m afraid I was the eager one,” Elena said. “I so want you to get to know Hermann better.”
She lifted an adoring look at her companion and squeezed his arm. Schmidt smiled down at Elena with similar admiration. But Katia thought she recognized a look of cunning flash in his eyes.
Did he sense Elena’s secret? Did he have a dark plan already in place?
Before Katia could pursue the frightening thought, Schmidt turned his bold scrutiny on to her. “May we come in? Or are we to stand on your doorstep all morning?”
The man was, beyond question, the most arrogant Nazi Katia knew. And considering the company she kept, that was saying a lot.
Tread carefully with this one, Katia.
Hidden beneath several layers of foolish woman, she cocked her head at an agreeable angle. “Oh, dear, forgive me. Do come in.”
She moved to her left, blessing them both with a happy smile as they passed by.
Once inside, Schmidt turned on his heel and handedKatia the bouquet of roses he’d been holding behind his back.
“For you,” he said. “I understand they are your favorite.”
He held her stare with a challenging look in his gaze.
Katia remained expressionless, fiercely so, but her mind raced in frantic chaos.
She hated white roses. No, she detested them. They reminded her of happier days when her father would bring a bouquet to both her and her mother for no particular reason.
Elena knew of Katia’s aversion. Why would she allow Schmidt to make this cruel gesture?
A test, perhaps? But who was running the show, Schmidt or her mother? And was Katia supposed to react with outrage or complacency?
To avoid revealing her confusion, she quickly took the bouquet and buried her nose in the blooms. The scent made her stomach churn in anguish and a sense of loss besieged her. How she missed her beloved father. His faith had been strong, even in the moment of his death.
In comparison, Katia’s faith was weak, practically nonexistent. But she was growing weary of relying only on herself and her quick thinking. They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength.
She
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