The Witches of St. Petersburg

The young man immediately averted his gaze. She had managed to disconcert him, but it was only momentary. ‘I would like permission to search the palace.’

‘You doubt my word?’ Militza glared.

‘Witch!’ came a shout from the back of the pack.

‘He is not here,’ she said, ignoring the accusation. She stood aside, calling his bluff. ‘You are very welcome to search the palace of Grand Duke Peter Nikolayevich, cousin of the Tsar, should you so wish, but you will not find the dog.’

The mere mention of her husband’s name called them to a halt. At least some titles still managed to instil a scintilla of respect, fear even, despite the ever-shifting sands.

‘That will not be necessary, Your Imperial Highness.’ He paused, fixing her with a stare. Militza’s face was impassive, her body completely still. She had always been an excellent liar. His men’s feet pawed the ground, itching for a fight, but the officer was not quite brave enough to enter. ‘We know for certain Rasputin came this way.’

Militza stared, a gentle half-smile curling her lips. ‘So…’

The officer cleared his throat. ‘We’ll stand guard on the entrance to your estate. It is, after all, our job to protect you.’

‘Protect me, indeed.’ She nodded, taking in his young face, the blond moustache struggling to cover his top lip. ‘How kind of you. I shall send out warm refreshments for your men.’

‘No need, Your Imperial Highness. My men will be quite warm enough.’

The wooden doors slammed shut and Militza slowly closed her eyes in relief then turned and dismissed her servants. Rasputin waited for the household to disperse before he drew back the curtain. Stepping out of the shadow, he walked towards her, arms outstretched. He pulled her towards him, enveloping her firmly in his embrace. She could feel her stomach tighten.

‘Thank you,’ he whispered in her ear. His hot breath sent a shiver down her spine. ‘May the Lord bless you.’ He kissed the backs of her hands with his dry lips, his coarse beard tickling her skin and the acrid smell of his fetid hair filling her nostrils. He looked up. ‘I shall exit by a basement entrance and head towards the sea. I will trouble you no more.’ He brushed his rough lips once more across the back of her hand. ‘I am forever in your debt.’

It was now or never, she thought. He had come to her of his own free will. It would only work if he were compliant. And here he was. This was it.