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Authors: Robin Bridges
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the dining car. It was empty except for a woman close to Maman’s age. She was wearing a plain black dress and sat reading a book while her tea grew cold.
As I sat down a few tables away from her, the waiter hurried up to me. “Your Highness, we would have been more than happy to bring breakfast to the Oldenburg car. There is no need for you to sit here with other passengers.” He nodded to the woman in black dismissively.
“It is quite all right,” I said. “I did not want to disturb my mother or my aunt. And I won’t be any trouble to you. If you would just bring me tea, please. With lemon.”
As the waiter bowed and left, I looked up to see the woman staring at me. She saw me looking back and quickly glanced again at her book.
The sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. I put my hand flat against the cold window as we rolled slowly past the scene of the accident. A cathedral was being built on the site to give thanks for the imperial family’s safety. Imperial guards stood before the building site, their pale faces stony and grim. The Order of St. Lazarus.
The woman was staring out the window at the guards as well. And she was frowning.
“Is something the matter?” I asked.
She seemed surprise that I had addressed her. “Those men. There is something dreadfully wrong with them. I have seen the same sickness in St. Petersburg.”
I felt my stomach sink. “You have?” How many other people had noticed the walking dead in St. Petersburg?
She gestured to the open book on the table in front of her. “I’ve been researching their symptoms but cannot find any known diseases that correlate.”
“Are you a doctor?” I asked. When she nodded, the anxious feeling I’d had was mixed with excitement and curiosity. I was almost giddy. A female doctor! “I would be honored if you joined me. My name is Katerina Alexandrovna of Oldenburg.”
Recognition showed in her face. “Your father is Duke Alexander Petrovich, then. I am Maria Bokova. I have recently agreed to work in the Oldenburg Hospital for Infants.” She stood and curtsied to me, stiffly.
“How exciting! Please sit with me,” I said, waving my hand at the empty seat at my table. “I plan to attend medical school myself and have many questions I would love to ask you!”
As she sat down carefully, she folded her hands primly in front of her. “And your father agrees to your plans? Why would he allow his daughter to be subjected to such misery?”
“Misery?”
“It is not a life for a pampered young girl, Highness. Why would you throw away the life you have for one such as mine?”
“I want to help people. I want to find cures for diseases.” I’d always known that it would be hard, but I had not expected a female doctor to be so hostile. I had expected morecamaraderie. More support. “And I am not a pampered young girl,” I said, unable to ignore her bitter remark.
“Don’t believe for a moment that your father’s money and imperial ties will make it easy for you,” she continued. “It’s bad enough if the instructors and the fellow students believe you have received special favors for being a woman. Whether you actually received those special favors or not. And if they believe your papa bought your admission to the university, it will be a thousand times worse.”
“I passed the entrance examination to Zurich on my own,” I said coolly.
She nodded, but did not seem very impressed. “Perhaps you think it will get easier once you hold your diploma in your hand, but that is rubbish. There are more political and bureaucratic hoops to jump through in order to practice here in Russia as a doctor.”
“And yet you intend to practice in St. Petersburg, and not in the country,” I pointed out. “Surely the problems with bureaucracy are greater in the city.”
Dr. Bokova sighed. “Yes, and I am very grateful to his highness, your father, for this opportunity. I am willing to risk the headaches and heartache. There are so
As I sat down a few tables away from her, the waiter hurried up to me. “Your Highness, we would have been more than happy to bring breakfast to the Oldenburg car. There is no need for you to sit here with other passengers.” He nodded to the woman in black dismissively.
“It is quite all right,” I said. “I did not want to disturb my mother or my aunt. And I won’t be any trouble to you. If you would just bring me tea, please. With lemon.”
As the waiter bowed and left, I looked up to see the woman staring at me. She saw me looking back and quickly glanced again at her book.
The sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. I put my hand flat against the cold window as we rolled slowly past the scene of the accident. A cathedral was being built on the site to give thanks for the imperial family’s safety. Imperial guards stood before the building site, their pale faces stony and grim. The Order of St. Lazarus.
The woman was staring out the window at the guards as well. And she was frowning.
“Is something the matter?” I asked.
She seemed surprise that I had addressed her. “Those men. There is something dreadfully wrong with them. I have seen the same sickness in St. Petersburg.”
I felt my stomach sink. “You have?” How many other people had noticed the walking dead in St. Petersburg?
She gestured to the open book on the table in front of her. “I’ve been researching their symptoms but cannot find any known diseases that correlate.”
“Are you a doctor?” I asked. When she nodded, the anxious feeling I’d had was mixed with excitement and curiosity. I was almost giddy. A female doctor! “I would be honored if you joined me. My name is Katerina Alexandrovna of Oldenburg.”
Recognition showed in her face. “Your father is Duke Alexander Petrovich, then. I am Maria Bokova. I have recently agreed to work in the Oldenburg Hospital for Infants.” She stood and curtsied to me, stiffly.
“How exciting! Please sit with me,” I said, waving my hand at the empty seat at my table. “I plan to attend medical school myself and have many questions I would love to ask you!”
As she sat down carefully, she folded her hands primly in front of her. “And your father agrees to your plans? Why would he allow his daughter to be subjected to such misery?”
“Misery?”
“It is not a life for a pampered young girl, Highness. Why would you throw away the life you have for one such as mine?”
“I want to help people. I want to find cures for diseases.” I’d always known that it would be hard, but I had not expected a female doctor to be so hostile. I had expected morecamaraderie. More support. “And I am not a pampered young girl,” I said, unable to ignore her bitter remark.
“Don’t believe for a moment that your father’s money and imperial ties will make it easy for you,” she continued. “It’s bad enough if the instructors and the fellow students believe you have received special favors for being a woman. Whether you actually received those special favors or not. And if they believe your papa bought your admission to the university, it will be a thousand times worse.”
“I passed the entrance examination to Zurich on my own,” I said coolly.
She nodded, but did not seem very impressed. “Perhaps you think it will get easier once you hold your diploma in your hand, but that is rubbish. There are more political and bureaucratic hoops to jump through in order to practice here in Russia as a doctor.”
“And yet you intend to practice in St. Petersburg, and not in the country,” I pointed out. “Surely the problems with bureaucracy are greater in the city.”
Dr. Bokova sighed. “Yes, and I am very grateful to his highness, your father, for this opportunity. I am willing to risk the headaches and heartache. There are so
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