The Unfailing Light

I slept very well my first night back at Smolny, after a wonderful dinner of potato and cabbage soup. No tossing or turning, and no strange or frightening dreams. I awoke the next morning feeling better than I had in months. Everyone seemed to be in brighter spirits, even the Montenegrin princess. Elena smiled at me and Aurora both as she hopped out of bed and got dressed. And Aurora smiled back.



Even with our brief memorial service honoring Madame Metcherskey, the somber mood at Smolny seemed to have changed. Madame Tomilov and Madame Orbellani were smiling at everyone over breakfast as well. There was a lightness to everyone's mood. Sister Anna decided to sing our morning grace before breakfast. Her voice was a very sweet, pure alto.



We ate warm, fluffy biscuits with raspberry and strawberry jam. A special treat, thanks to our new cook. Outside, it was a gloomy winter day, but inside the Smolny Institute, one would have thought it was sunny spring.



Even the oldest students skipped to their classes. And I skipped right past the library, wondering what had happened to our ghost. Had Madame Tomilov done something to get rid of her over the holidays? Was that the reason for the dramatic change in mood? I let the Bavarian princesses go on ahead and turned back to investigate.



"You won't find her in there right now," Alix said, as she walked down the hall in her calm, dignified manner.



"What is going on?" I asked. "There is something not quite right this morning."



"What could possibly be wrong?" Alix's mouth twitched. She was trying very hard to hold back a smile.



"Are you feeling all right?" I asked her.



She pulled a leftover biscuit out of her pinafore pocket and stuffed it into her mouth. She licked the jam off of her fingers. "I'm feeling wonderful, Katerina!" She giggled as she skipped off to class. I watched as Elena linked arms with her and off they went together, like best friends.



I sighed. There was definitely something wrong at Smolny. Why did I think the biscuits were to be blamed?



Of course it wasn't my place to look into this, but I had to. Instead of going to class, where I knew I wouldn't be able to learn anything anyway, what with all the skipping and singing, I slipped downstairs into the kitchen, where the staff was washing the pots and pans from breakfast.



They were singing in the kitchen as well. Joyful French love songs. Mon Dieu! It was too early for such impropriety.



I found the cook, a youngish-looking man, peeling apples by the window. I couldn't help gasping as he looked up at me and smiled. His eyes were so blue, it hurt to look at them. I could do nothing but smile. I couldn't stop myself.



"Oui, Mademoiselle?" he asked. He tossed the apple into a large bowl with the others and wiped his hands on his apron. "Shouldn't you be in class?"



I shook my head. "No. I mean, yes ... I should, but I needed to ask you ..." What had I wanted to ask him exactly? It seemed no amount of glamour could hide what he was from me. He was beautiful. Too beautiful to be human. Too beautiful to be harmless. "Why did you come to Smolny?" I asked. "What have you done to us?"



His clear blue eyes blinked. Then he grinned, showing the faintest flash of his sharp, tiny teeth. "I serve at the will of Her Imperial Majesty. She has been informed that there is an unfortunate lost soul that has been trapped here within her spell. I am here to make sure that it does not harm anyone."



"Do you know who she is? Can you get rid of her?"



"Sadly, no. I'm afraid even Her Imperial Majesty does not know who this lost soul is. And no, I cannot do anything to expel it. Only a necromancer such as yourself could do that." He searched through the cupboards for something.



My jaw dropped. In a most unladylike manner. "But I'm powerless under the empress's spell here. How can I do anything?"



He began to roll out a piecrust with his marble rolling pin. "It is true. There is nothing you can do, while the empress's spell remains. That is why I am here. To make sure everyone forgets about the ghost."



"How does your magic work, then?" I asked. "Is it stronger than the empress's spell?"



"Of course not. My fae glamour inserts itself within the fabric of the empress's fae spell. The glamour is only an illusion. Nothing more. And all the more pity for you, since you see through it. The lost soul will still be able to affect you with its malicious tantrums." He was making apple turnovers. It smelled heavenly when he sprinkled the cinnamon and sugar over the apple pieces. It brought a smile to the corners of my lips.



"Here," he said with a dramatic sigh. He reached over into the picnic basket on the kitchen table and pulled out two blueberry muffins. They were still warm. "These should keep you protected until lunchtime. But stay away from the library."



"Merci, Monsieur ..." I smiled helplessly, realizing I did not know his name. It would be helpful if I did.



He grinned his wicked grin again. "Oh no, you're not getting that out of me. You may call me Sucre. That is the name Madame Tomilov knows me by."



"Merci, Monsieur Sucre." I curtsied politely, afraid to eat the tempting muffins. They smelled divine. Their sweet scent rose up out of my hands, like a whisper. I knew it was only an illusion. The glamour, the fae called it. Would it hurt me to not see reality for a little while? It would be so nice to not worry about the lost soul, as Sucre called her. "Have you seen her? The ghost?"



The cook scowled and spat on the floor, muttering something in a language I'd never heard before. Definitely not French. And not Russian. "No, and I hope that I do not." He opened the large oven door and placed the tray of turnovers inside. "Now, it is time for you to go, Mademoiselle. I cannot let you see all of my tricks."



"But-"



His eyes flashed. The blue was unbearable. "Now, Mademoiselle." His voice was soft, but deadly.



I curtsied again. "Of course. Thank you once again," I said, waving the muffins at him as I turned to go.



"And tell your Bavarian friend she should not be wandering into the kitchen late at night. You would not want her to eat something that disagreed with her."



My skin turned cold. Would he really dare to harm one of us? "Of course not, Monsieur." I gritted my teeth and left, not bothering to glance back at him. I hurried outside into the frozen courtyard and tore the blueberry muffins into tiny pieces, scattering them into the wind. I'd let the rest of the students skip and sing along with the beglamoured instructors and Sister Anna. I wanted to be able to see the evil things that were stalking us at Smolny.