Anastasia's Secret by Susanne Dunlap Read Free Book Online Page B

the Mountain Hall of the Alexander Palace. We often rode our bicycles around the rooms in the Alexander Palace, and it was the smallest of all our homes.
    Because everything we packed for our trips was taken care of by the servants, and the household staff looked after our clothing and other belongings, it was extremely difficult to keep Sasha’s balalaika hidden. I decided it would be safer to confess something about it to Mashka. I couldn’t say that I purchased it myself, because we never had any money at all, and I wouldn’t have known how to go about it or how much to give. It had to be a gift from someone, and I settled on it having come from one of the servants whom I had heard playing it in Peterhof. People did that sort of thing for us children sometimes, although less now that we were getting older. I still remembered the old man who had come from Siberia with his tame sable. We wanted to keep it, but it was only tame for him, and when he left it behind it ran around and knocked things on the floor. I thought it was terribly funny, but we gave the creature back to the old man.
    “Why would you want such a thing as a plain old balalaika when we have pianos to play here? I simply do not understand,” Mashka said after I told her and showed her the humble instrument.
    “Just because it is a peasant instrument doesn’t mean it isn’t beautiful!”
    “Yes, I know, and you play it very well. But that is such a plain one. Not like Alexei’s.”
    “What matters is the sound, not the look.” Sometimes Mashka exasperated me. She was not a snob, but every once in a while she spoke without thinking. I doubted she really had any idea of what was going on around us. “The point is, I wanted my own to play, but I want it to be a surprise to Papa and Mama. Alexei and I shall learn to play a duet. It will be something I can tease him with so he will get better when he is ill. So you mustn’t tell anyone.” It was the best I could think of at the moment.
    “You’re a strange creature,” Mashka said. “But you know I won’t say a word. If they find out, though, I won’t lie.”
    That was all I needed. I wasn’t sure why I felt the balalaika had to be a secret, except that if it was known I would then have to explain everything, and I didn’t want to face the teasing—even if it was good-natured—from my sisters. I realized with some shame that they might think it a wonderful opportunity to get back at me for the tricks I had played on them and the cruel things I had said about their crushes and admirers. They wouldn’t understand—or wouldn’t believe—that Sasha was simply my friend. My sisters and I didn’t really have friends except for each other, not counting the younger maids of honor, and they had court appointments that paid them to be nice to us. I wanted Sasha to be my friend alone, to like me for myself, not because he was a member of the court and it was his job.
    Thoughts of the balalaika were driven out of my mind, however, by the bad news of the war. Papa came into Mama’s room, where we were all knitting and reading quietly one late August evening. His face had gone beyond pale to gray.
    “Samsonov was routed at Soldau. They say we won’t know the extent of the casualties for some time.”
    Samsonov was one of the generals. I didn’t know which armies he commanded, but my heart pounded against the walls of my chest. Moments passed in utter stillness, no one daring to breathe or break the silence. At last, Tatiana, the practical one, spoke. “What does this mean? Why did it happen?”
    Papa dropped into a chair and passed his hand across his eyes as if he wanted to erase a vision of something horrible.
    “He advanced too far too fast. But it was not his fault. We don’t have the means of supply. We are not sufficiently mobilized.”
    I had been sitting with my mouth open, and when I tried to ask my question, I found that my tongue and throat were so dry I could hardly squeak out a