Katrina left her father that evening with a great deal to think about.
The fifteen-year-old girl would not change overnight. But perhaps in the mere admission of wrongdoing she had set her foot upon the path to the most lasting kind of inner change—change far deeper than anything she would achieve by low-cut gowns, feminine wiles, or a redecorated apartment. Remaining on the road to maturity would be the most difficult part of the task. Hundreds take a few steps along that way for every one who makes a lifetime of progress. And it would be all the more precarious with the many diversions and temptations a young woman in Katrina’s position was bound to encounter.
Yet she had made a brave beginning, and for the moment was headed right. In a more literal sense, she was now headed down to the Fedorcenko estate kitchens. She shrank from the very thought of having to humble herself in front of anyone, but perhaps in front of a servant it might be easier than before the gawking eyes of her peers. Easy or not, she knew she had to face her maid and reinstate her. Her father was right about one thing—it had been wrong to accuse her so hastily. And now to make amends, she had to go to Anna personally, not merely send for her.
Princess Katrina Fedorcenko seldom ventured to this quarter of the house, and she received curious stares from passing servants along the way. She found Anna at the chopping block slicing several large cabbages. It had taken Olga Stephanovna no time at all to load Anna down with her former duties, an undertaking which provided the Iron Mistress a great deal of morbid satisfaction. Since the day Anna had been taken from her domain into the Fedorcenko home, Olga had resented the girl’s good fortune, and now took particular delight in exacting her own form of revenge on one who should have been content with her station in the first place.
For the first time in her life, at least in front of a servant, Katrina did not know what she was going to say. It did not help that Anna stared speechless as the princess approached.
“Anna, I wish to speak to you,” said Katrina.
Still Anna stared, poised somewhere between confusion and abject fear.
“Is there somewhere they will let you go?”
At last Anna seemed to come to herself. She glanced nervously around. Work among the other servants nearby had slowed with Katrina’s appearance. All eyes were on the two young girls.
Anna glanced questioningly toward Polya, who had heard everything. Polya nodded toward the door.
“No one is in the vegetable pantry, Princess,” said Polya, and added to Anna, “If Olga should wonder about you, I will tell her Princess Fedorcenko requested you to accompany her. Go ahead, Anna.”
Anna turned and walked toward a door deeper into the kitchen. Katrina followed, winding through awestruck servants who pretended to go about their work but were watching every step the princess took. It was not the sort of place where Katrina was used to being. Cooking implements, pans, bowls, and huge mixing pots sat about; half a butchered hog lay on one large wood chopping table, where a burly man was sawing it into chunks. The air was filled with smells and sensations completely new to Katrina. She shuddered and followed Anna into the pantry. Because there was no place to sit in the crowded pantry, both girls remained standing.
“I want you to come back to the main house, Anna,” said Katrina.
“I . . . I don’t understand, Princess,” replied Anna, at last finding her voice, though timidly.
“I found the Bible. I’m sorry I accused you, and I want you to come back,” said Katrina. Despite her repentant resolve, the words still came out of her mouth in her usual demanding fashion. Even the expression of apology, which was altogether unnatural to her, had a stiff, almost formal ring to it. The changes she was beginning to feel in certain corners of her heart would take time to work themselves into her demeanor.
“I will do whatever you say, Princess,” said Anna, trying not to show the relief she felt, nor the surge of joy that went along with it.
“Then gather your things, and I’ll send someone for them, and you come back to your room.”
“Now, Princess . . . tonight?”
“Yes, of course tonight. But leave that apron, and change your clothes first. The smell of onions and garlic and boiling cabbage is beginning to overwhelm me!”
“What shall I say to Olga, Princess? She will not be pleased if I tell her I am leaving again. She may not let me—”
“You leave Olga Stephanovna to me. If she dares meddle in my affairs I’ll give her cause not to be pleased!”
“Yes, Princess.”
“You just go tell whoever it is you answer to—”
“That would be Polya, Princess.”
“You tell her I have told you to come with me. Then change your clothes and be along.”
“Yes, Princess.”
“I’ll expect you within half an hour to draw my bath. Now that that’s settled, show me how to get out of this place—I’m about to suffocate!”