The hushed silence of scurrying servants and stunned courtiers was broken by the click and jingle of cavalry boots on the polished parquet floor: Grand Duke Nikolai had arrived. Relief washed over Count Fredriks as he heard the familiar voice of the only man who could, at times like these, touch the Czar.
“Where is he?”, the grand duke asked without bothering with preliminiaries.
“In his apartments, Your Highness.” the minister of the court replied with a quick, elegant bow. “Ever since he heard the news, His Majesty has withdrawn. The Empress Alexandra and Dr Dubrovin are with him.”
Nikolai snorted. Dubrovin! That damned poisoner of words, that carrion-crow of a court parasite latching onto the vulnerabilities of his cousin! How like him it was to be with the Czar in such an hour, to offer his support, ingratiate himself, make himself indispensible. Alexandra would hardly help, either. As far as the grand duke was concerned, the woman was religiously mad. Her conversion to orthodoxy had been ridiculously complete. She had been devoted to Prokurator Pobedonostsev, if anything, even more than her husband, and the news of his death, though hardly unexpected, must have hit her very badly.
“He has ordered a state funeral.” Fredriks spoke again. “Three days from now, with full honours and the guards cavalry in attendance. I'm not sure...”
Nikolai did not envy the poor man his duties. Most of the guards cavalry was in East Prussia – the parts of it that still existed, anyway. The garrison in Moscow was sizeable, but not enough for the pomp and circumstance that Nicholas had to be envisioning. Of course Count Fredriks wouldn't be telling him that – that happy lot would fall to a senior cavalry officer, and guess who had just happened to walk in? Sometimes, a front command looked downright inviting by comparison to the snake pit the Kremlin was becoming.
The tap nof crutches down the hall signalled the arrival of Grand Duke Sergei, accompanied by two bodyguards. You hardly ever saw him without his twin cossacks, one at each side. Their main function was to prevent him from falling if he tripped up or his legs betrayed him, something that happened increasingly often and elicited outbursts of irrational anger. Nikolai occasionally wondered if Sergei resented him for being whole and athletic. The attack could have struck him just as easily, after all.
“Nikolai.”, he exclaimed. “You've heard, too, no doubt.”
News of Pobedonostsev's death had travelled fast. The court was buzzing with speculation about his successor already, both in the position of Procurator of the Holy Synod and in the Czar's favour.
“I came to see Nicholas.” the grand duke explained himself,. More defensively than he had intended. “The news must have come as a blow.”
The two met, stiffly, at the door of the imperial apartments, plumed guards standing to attention as they passed. Nikolai turned the handle and found it locked. He called out for a servant to open it. The wait lengthened embarrassingly as the soldiers stared fixedly forward. Footsteps behind the door announced someone's arrival.
“His Majesty is seeing nobody.” the voice behind the door announced. “He is in mourning and praying for the soul of his most trusted advisor.”
Sergei looked up in astonishment. “Dubrovin!” he mouthed silently. Nikolai nodded. “This is Grand Duke Nikolai Nikolaevich come to see the Emperor!” he called out at the door, with little hope of getting a response. Imperial authority and all, but this was ridiculous.
“I am sorry, Your Highness,” the answer came, “but the Czar's wishes are clear. He will not be seeing anyone at this time,. I will convey your condolences.”
“Condolences, my ass.” Sergei burst out in a hissing whisper. “He's hiding.” His face was flushed with anger, his knuckles white gripping the carven ivory handles of his crutches.
“I know.” Nikolai shrugged. “And there really isn't anything we can do about it. I'm sure he will see us later.” He hesitated. It had been over a year since he had exchanged more than a few words with Sergei. Maybe this was the opportunity to try and heal their rift? Or at least to clear up where they stood. He cleared his throat.
“Don't you have apartments in this wing?” he asked. “It would be convenient if we could wait there.”
Grand Duke Sergei paused and nodded. “Come along.”, he said. “I'll order us tea. There are a few things I've been meaning to discuss with you.”
