the arrival of the tumbrils, but there was evasion in the atmosphere, as if the landed classes of St Petersburg could not quite believe that unhappiness and discontent were breeding in the towns and villages outside the city limits.
I watched as one such vessel docked directly in front of the palace, perhaps the most lavish of all the boats, and two Imperial guards leaped the short distance from the deck to the promenade as the craft slipped gently into its mooring, then took a wide drawbridge from its resting place to provide safe transport across for its occupants. A heavy-set woman stepped off first and stood to the side as four young girls, all dressed identically in long grey dresses, overcoats and hats, followed her, talking amongthemselves. I craned my neck for a better look and was astonished to see that it was the same party from the roasted-chestnut stand. Their carriage must have taken them to the boat for a short journey to end a pleasurable evening, but standing where I was, on the third floor of the palace, I was too high to observe them for more than a few short moments. I wondered whether they had the sense that they were being watched, however, for just before they disappeared out of sight, one of them – the youngest one, the girl whose chestnuts had fallen on the ground and whose gaze had entranced me – hesitated, then turned her head upwards and caught my eye, a look of recognition on her face, as if she had expected me to be there all along. I saw her smile for only a moment before she vanished and I swallowed nervously and frowned, confused by the unfamiliar emotion that swept over me.
I had laid eyes on this girl for only the briefest of moments, and we had barely spoken at the chestnut stand, but there was a warmth, a kindness in those eyes that made me wish I could run down to find her again, to talk to her and discover who she was. I almost laughed at the absurdity of my emotions. You are being ridiculous, Georgy! I told myself, shaking my head quickly to rid myself of the images, and with still no sign of anyone to tell me any better, I started to walk along the corridor, away from those dangerous windows and the solitude of my exquisite chair.
And it was at that moment that I began to hear voices in the distance.
Every closed door was as ornate as the last and stood perhaps fifteen feet in height, with a semi-circular frieze placed above the intricate gold mouldings that ornamented each surface. I wondered how many hours of craftsmanship had gone into their elaborate detailing. How many doors like these were there in this palace? A thousand? Two thousand? The idea was too much for my brain to consider and I became dizzy at the thought of how many people must have struggled to complete work on such finery, which existed to serve the pleasures of only one family. Didthey even notice how beautiful it was, I wondered, or did the delicate splendour just pass them by entirely?
Hesitating for only a moment, I turned a corner to where a much shorter corridor awaited me. There were no lights running to my left and its increasing darkness reminded me of some of the more terrifying stories that Asya had told me as an infant to induce nightmares, and I shuddered slightly and turned away. To my right, however, a number of candles were lit along the windowsills and I started to walk along in a spirit of exploration, carefully, quietly, so that my boots would not sound too loudly on the floor beneath my feet.
Again, each door was closed, but it wasn’t long before I tracked the voices to a room a little further ahead. Intrigued, I continued along, pressing an ear to each door, but there was only silence behind them. What happened in each one, I wondered? Who lived there, worked there, issued orders from there? The sounds grew louder and at the end of the corridor there was one door slightly ajar, but I hesitated before approaching it. The voices were more distinct now, although the people from whom they
I watched as one such vessel docked directly in front of the palace, perhaps the most lavish of all the boats, and two Imperial guards leaped the short distance from the deck to the promenade as the craft slipped gently into its mooring, then took a wide drawbridge from its resting place to provide safe transport across for its occupants. A heavy-set woman stepped off first and stood to the side as four young girls, all dressed identically in long grey dresses, overcoats and hats, followed her, talking amongthemselves. I craned my neck for a better look and was astonished to see that it was the same party from the roasted-chestnut stand. Their carriage must have taken them to the boat for a short journey to end a pleasurable evening, but standing where I was, on the third floor of the palace, I was too high to observe them for more than a few short moments. I wondered whether they had the sense that they were being watched, however, for just before they disappeared out of sight, one of them – the youngest one, the girl whose chestnuts had fallen on the ground and whose gaze had entranced me – hesitated, then turned her head upwards and caught my eye, a look of recognition on her face, as if she had expected me to be there all along. I saw her smile for only a moment before she vanished and I swallowed nervously and frowned, confused by the unfamiliar emotion that swept over me.
I had laid eyes on this girl for only the briefest of moments, and we had barely spoken at the chestnut stand, but there was a warmth, a kindness in those eyes that made me wish I could run down to find her again, to talk to her and discover who she was. I almost laughed at the absurdity of my emotions. You are being ridiculous, Georgy! I told myself, shaking my head quickly to rid myself of the images, and with still no sign of anyone to tell me any better, I started to walk along the corridor, away from those dangerous windows and the solitude of my exquisite chair.
And it was at that moment that I began to hear voices in the distance.
Every closed door was as ornate as the last and stood perhaps fifteen feet in height, with a semi-circular frieze placed above the intricate gold mouldings that ornamented each surface. I wondered how many hours of craftsmanship had gone into their elaborate detailing. How many doors like these were there in this palace? A thousand? Two thousand? The idea was too much for my brain to consider and I became dizzy at the thought of how many people must have struggled to complete work on such finery, which existed to serve the pleasures of only one family. Didthey even notice how beautiful it was, I wondered, or did the delicate splendour just pass them by entirely?
Hesitating for only a moment, I turned a corner to where a much shorter corridor awaited me. There were no lights running to my left and its increasing darkness reminded me of some of the more terrifying stories that Asya had told me as an infant to induce nightmares, and I shuddered slightly and turned away. To my right, however, a number of candles were lit along the windowsills and I started to walk along in a spirit of exploration, carefully, quietly, so that my boots would not sound too loudly on the floor beneath my feet.
Again, each door was closed, but it wasn’t long before I tracked the voices to a room a little further ahead. Intrigued, I continued along, pressing an ear to each door, but there was only silence behind them. What happened in each one, I wondered? Who lived there, worked there, issued orders from there? The sounds grew louder and at the end of the corridor there was one door slightly ajar, but I hesitated before approaching it. The voices were more distinct now, although the people from whom they
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