Read Online City of Silence (City of Mystery) by Kim Wright - Free Book Online

royal guard?” Ella asked.
    “Yes,
Your Imperial Highness.”
    “And
does he ever discuss his work with you?”
    The
notion was so ludicrous that Tatiana almost laughed.  She and Filip did not
have discussions of any sort.  Their marriage did not take that particular
form.  Furthermore, even had he been so inclined, there was probably nothing
about his work which merited discussion.  The grand duchess seemed to be under
the impression that Tatiana was married to an inspector or detective, a man with
cases which required deduction and analysis.  She did not understand that
Filip’s primary function was to absorb stray projectiles, nothing more.
    “No,
Your Imperial Highness.”
    “So
he is discreet,” Ella said, still misunderstanding.  “Which is a good thing, I
suppose.  But it is obvious that much strikes you as odd about the scene before
us.”
    “The
position…” Tatiana said, tentatively.  No one had shown the slightest interest
in her opinion about anything since she had moved to the palace and it felt odd
to be speaking openly now, especially to a woman of rank. 
    “The
final pose of the ballet,” said Ella, with a nod.  “Intended as some sort of
message to the survivors, no doubt.”
    “I
have been trying to envision the sequence of events that would lead them there,”
Tatiana said. 
    “And
how might you imagine it?  Speak freely.”
    Tatiana
narrowed her eyes. “They assumed their pose on the floor and then…he cut his
throat and then she…took the knife from his hand and cut her own?  Something in
it all seems terribly wrong, unnecessarily cruel.  For if two young lovers were
determined to die by the blade of a single knife wouldn’t he do the deed for
her and then follow behind himself?  And another thing,” she added, gaining
confidence as she spoke. “Romeo and Juliet fell on their daggers, which would
have been a much easier way to die than the arrangement before us.  Faster,
more definitive, and one could not change one’s mind half way though, which is
an advantage in a method of suicide.  But these youngsters must have cut their
own throats and inflicting those sort of deep gashes which would have taken
nerves of steel.  A feat it is hard to picture a young girl performing, even if
she was looking into the eyes of her dead lover.”
    Ella
nodded slowly, but did not add any observations of her own.  “And can you tell
me, Tatiana Orlov, why it does not disturb you to look so directly upon blood
and death?”
    “My
father is a butcher.”
    It
was a confession Tatiana rarely made, but it was true.  From earliest childhood
she had been trained to look upon flesh as a type of currency.  The guard below
them who had dismissed the dancers as peasants hadn’t known he was speaking to
a peasant himself, a woman only twenty-seven months out of poverty, a woman
whose pretty face was a type of currency too.  Tatiana had never, not for a
single day, forgotten it.
    “And
so you believe,” Ella asked, in a flat tone which did not make the question a
question at all, “that they were likely murdered?”
    Tatiana
nodded.  One did not merely nod at a grand duchess, even Filip would have known
better than that, but she seemed to have momentarily lost her ability to
speak.  Ella nodded too and turned toward the sound of her attendant who was
marching steadily down the steps with a box in her hands, as well as some sort
of device which looked like a collection of canes tucked under her armpit.  She
is a lady-in-waiting, Tatiana suddenly remembered.  That was what the British called
them.  A foolish phrase.  What were all those ladies waiting for?
    “Very
well,” said Ella. “Let us set it up near the railing.”  The woman handed Ella
the box, which Tatiana supposed was the camera.  She had never seen one, only
finished photographs, and it seemed nearly unbelievable that this square black
case, no larger than a hatbox, should hold within the power to freeze