Chapter One Thousand Two Hundred Thirty-Three
4th August 1957
Moscow, Russia
The Patriarch of the Russian Orthodox Church had been positively euphoric to have Gia among the Communion. It was clear that he was one of those who bought into the idea of who they thought Jehane Alexandra was. Since she had returned to Russia, Gia had realized what Kat had meant when she had talked about her public persona being an unwelcome roommate who couldn’t be evicted. Many people in Moscow held her in great reverence and the further she went out into the countryside the worse that got. She didn’t want to think for an instant about what was said about her in places like Siberia and the Far East.
The story that got the most play was about her confronting Stalin himself in his prison cell. How she had seen the suffering that had been inflicted upon her family reflected in the treatment of the imprisoned despot and felt that was wrong even for a monster like Stalin. Now, in light of more recent events, Gia was being depicted as a crusader. Not to liberate the Holy Land or fight the heathens, but to challenge the entire world to be a better place.
Kat’s friend Nancy had told her that as far as public perceptions were concerned there were organizations, governments and corporations that would kill to be seen in the same light that she was. That reinforced Gia’s belief that Kat and Nancy got along so well together because they were both equally insane, just in different ways. The Russian people would probably view her with considerably less warmth if they knew what was going on in her head. How she was torn about who she despised more at the moment, her cousin Georgy or his friend Fyodor Volkov and how a bit of regicide would solve so many of her problems. There were also several moments lately when Anya had been severely trying Gia’s patience. The girl had dreamed of moving to Moscow. Now it had happened, and she had to leave her friends behind. Anya had raised stubborn noncooperation and being passive aggressive to an artform as she had expressed her unhappiness about the move.
Her turning twenty-nine the prior month had resulted in her cousin hinting that she was running out of time for certain things. Gia had demanded to what he had meant by that only to have Georgy sheepishly change the subject. Fyodor had been a lot more direct. He had warned her that Georgy’s advisors were pressuring him to find a suitable husband for Gia and order her to marry that particular man. Apparently, Gia’s independence was giving women ideas, Heaven forbid. She probably had Georgy’s wife Lidiya to thank for him not doing something so stupid, not yet anyway. Fyodor’s solution was exasperating for Gia, it was also presumptuous and self-serving on his part. He had dared to suggest that Gia consider a marriage of convenience to him for practical considerations. He pointed out that he had been courting her as Alexandra Lukichna, an individual as opposed to those who saw her as an easy means to wealth and power. Unlike them, he had always been trying to win her heart.
It was all exactly in keeping with every cynical thing she had heard among the sisterhood about men in general and how they viewed her. Fyodor’s efforts had been clumsy, heavy handed and he had never once given her a chance to get to know him beyond his apparent new-found wealth and abilities as her cousin’s good soldier. It simply wasn’t enough. How could someone be so obviously competent, yet completely clueless at the same time?
Hohenzollern Castle
For the first time in months that Kat had seen Louis somewhat happy and that was good to see. She was however less thrilled with the company he was keeping this afternoon but was willing to overlook that. Particularly because she had the foresight to tell Doug to bring his camera.
Kat had come with Douglas, Tilo and Nancy because she and Nancy had business with the Emperor. Doug had suggested that they make a weekend of it, a chance to escape from the pressures of home and their children for a few days. A couple hours on Saturday afternoon had been spent talking to Louis about media strategy and he could not have been less interested. Eventually he had just told Nancy to do what she thought would work best regarding public relations.
Today was different, however. Kat realized that this was Louis in his element, talking cars with other men who shared his passion. A few days before, Porsche had delivered a 356A convertible to the garage that Louis had built in a hollow on the mountain below the castle. The engine compartment was open, and he was talking about it with a Frenchman and two Americans who he had met at the Porsche factory. The Frenchman was Robert Benoist, a semi-retired racecar driver who was looking to start a racing team and had been looking for sponsors, corporate or just someone rich enough to throw money at it. The Americans were two actors who had roles in the latest American Western that John Wayne was making with Sergio Leone in Spain. One of them, James Dean, Kat had heard of, the other, a Clint Eastwood, she had not. Though bizarrely Tilo had met Eastwood once in California just before the Mexican War when he had been serving as a lifeguard at an Officer’s Club pool in Los Angles.