Anna handed the bundle to Katrina and watched joyously as the princess reached up with feeble arms to take it. Her pale, weary face was radiant with happiness.
“I am so weak,” she said. “I am afraid I will drop her.”
“No, you won’t, Princess. I will stay here with you.”
Anna lifted one of Katrina’s arms to hold it around the baby; and in this manner, with them both supporting the newborn together, Katrina at last beheld her daughter.
“Oh, Anna,” she exclaimed in a soft, strained voice, “she is beautiful!”
“Of course, Princess. She is yours. How could she be anything else?”
“That’s not what I mean, Anna,” smiled Katrina. “Oh . . . can you believe it, Anna—I have a daughter . . . a little baby daughter!”
“A new little princess who will grow up to be just as fine and beautiful a woman as her mother,” said Anna tenderly.
“I wish Dmitri could be here.”
“He will be here soon, Princess.”
“But, Anna, what if he never received Polya’s message?”
Above all things, Anna did not want her mistress to be anxious just now. She needed rest, in both body and mind. She tried to divert the conversation back to the baby they held in their arms.
“Have you decided upon a name for her yet, Princess?” she asked.
“Yes, and it is none of the silly names we used to talk about.”
“What is it?” asked Anna excitedly.
A faint smile flitted across Katrina’s face. “I wish to name her Mariana.”
“It is beautiful . . . I love it already.”
“It was a name my mother loved—my grandmother’s name. Mariana Natalia Dmitrievna Remizov.”
“It is a good Russian name, Princess.”
“Even my father is sure to like it, but . . .” She paused as her throat tightened momentarily. “Anna, I am so tired. Will you take Mariana?”
“Of course, Princess. You just rest, and my mother and I will take perfect care of you both.”
“And when I wake up, Dmitri will be here.”
“Yes, I am certain he will be.”
Anna lifted the infant back into her arms, then pulled the blankets and covers up around Katrina. After making her as comfortable as possible, Anna went to join her mother in the kitchen area.
Sophia poured out two cups of tea, and the two women sat down at the table. Sophia shook her head, all her previous joy at the successful birth dimmed.
“Anna, it is not good.”
“What do you mean, Mama? The baby seems fine, the princess is resting . . .” Her hopeful words trailed away, replaced by a deep frown of concern as she watched her mother continue to shake her head.
“The princess is bleeding,” said Sophia.
“Is that not normal, Mama? There is always some blood and—”
“Not only from the tearing of skin, Anna. She is bleeding from inside. I have never seen such a hemorrhage.”
“Surely there is something you can do.”
“I have seen even the doctor unable to stop such a flow.”
“But, Mama—”
“I think I must go after the priest.”
“Mama!”
“Shhh, child!”
Sophia rose. “I will stop at Polya’s to see the children. And the baby will need a wet nurse. I have a potion here, Anna. When the princess wakes, mix it in some tea and make sure she drinks it all.”
Anna desperately grabbed her mother’s hand.
“Mama!”
“I am sorry, child. I know how you love her. But all we can do for her now is pray.”