Chapter 1

"Done!"

I peer at the mirror with a critical eye. "You missed a bit. There!"

Olga rolls her eyes and expertly twists a lock of hair back into place. I smile at my reflection, satisfied. "Ok, my turn."

I sigh as she slips gracefully into the chair and hands me the brush. People may say I am the prettiest of my sisters, but Olga will always be more slender than me. Somehow I have never grown out of my puppy fat, and it shows in my tight new dress. Tatiana sees me pulling at the bodice and smiles sympathetically.

"Don't pull it so tight, Nastya. It will flatter you more if the ribbon is looser, like mine."

I scowl, and retie the hideous mauve bow round my waist. If it wasn't for the dress I would be looking forward to the ball; there will probably be a spectacular feast, and plenty of pompous young bachelors for Alexei and I to impose on my poor sisters. Mama will try to discourage me, but I will not leave my little brother on his own in favour of some dull duke's son or whoever is introduced to me tonight. I think Alexei would die of boredom, or embarassment if he was asked to dance.

I smile at this and start winding rosebuds into Olga's hair. Perhaps if I stay away from the food I will fit into my dress better next time, and someone will ask me to dance.

"Jemmy! Come here, baby," Maria picks up my little dog and struggles to tie a leftover ribbon round his neck. It is light blue and suits him, but Jemmy doesn't seem to think so and struggles, his big brown eyes wide in panic. I smile again and turn back to Olga's hair, determined that it will be perfect. If I am not asked to dance, then at least –

I almost drop the hairbrush as I hear a shriek from behind me; I turn round as Maria stares down at her once pristine white dress, in the middle of which are several muddy pawprints. I bite down hard on my lip to keep myself from laughing as Maria bursts into tears. There is a flurry of activity as a servant enters the room and Olga and Tatiana rush to Maria's aid, and I am sent to get soap and water from the bathroom. Jemmy makes a bolt for the door as I go out, probably in the direction of Alexei's rooms where he knows he will not be cuddled and cosseted to death.

I poke my head round Alexei's door as I make my way back to my bedroom, bucket and bar of soap in hand. He stands in front of his mirror, grimacing as Derevenko attacks his hair with a comb. My brother sees me and grins, then pulls a grotesque face and puffs out his cheeks; I am forced to cover my face with my hand to stop a giggle escaping my lips. I am sure Alexei has gone out of his way to mess up his hair; while normally it lies poker straight it now sticks up in all directions. Derevenko glances at me in the mirror and rolls his eyes.

"Would you mind taking care of little Alexei for a moment while I find your mother?" He raises his eyebrows and holds out the comb. I nod when I see how tired he looks; caring for a thirteen year old boy who needs supervising all day, especially one as energetic and mischievous as Alexei, isn't easy. I know because I've tried. Many times. Alexei's face falls as I am handed the comb; he reminds me of a cornered deer ready to be shot, with his copper coloured hair and large blue eyes. I grin manically and hold the comb aloft, ready to strike, but he grabs it out of my hands and takes flight through the open door and down the hallway, passing Derevenko on the way. Derevenko curses and throws himself after Alexei, but I know he will never catch him. Not only does Alexei have the fine, pointed features of a deer but I swear he runs twice as fast as any stag I have seen in the parks. I call out an apology to Derevenko as he races down the stairs; he will get the blame if Alexei hurts himself running and has another attack. I just hope Alexei knows his limits, or he will be kept at home during the ball and I will have to make mischief on my own. Humph.

On my return to my bedroom, I find that Maria has changed into a shift while her dress is fussed over by my sisters.

"Come here, Nastya. Quickly!" I am commanded by Olga. I make a great show of plonking the metal bucket I have brought on my bed and handing her soap and flannel. Maria flumps down on her bed and presses her forhead to the window pane. I sit behind her and gaze out at the smooth snow, lit silver by the moonlight. There will be snowball fights tomorrow, and I smile in anticipation; I may be short but I am fast, and often win the frantic snow-sprayed chases round the palace gardens.

"Well, now you know not to trust Jemmy – you never know what he's stepped in, it might not be mud," I remark, still half in a day dream, as the offending dog reappears and attempts to climb onto my lap. I grimace and immediately see that perhaps now isn't the time for my wry sense of humour. Olga gives me an exasperated sigh, but Maria laughs and buries her head in my shoulder.

"You're awful, Nastas, you really are,"her muffled voice sounds. I shrug and select a necklace from the dresser which will match my dress, carefully putting in matching earrings. I smile at the effect of the dancing amethyst sparkles on my pale skin, and decide the dress is bearable - it certainly seems a lot better compared to Maria's, which still bears faint sinister brown smudges on the bodice.

The palace windows glow with the dying embers of a hundred fireplaces, throwing a warm golden light onto the snow as we climb into the royal carriage. Alexei has been caught and tamed and now sits opposite me, wrinkling his nose and struggling with the top button of his military uniform which looks tight enough to strangle him. As the doors of the carriage are closed and we start to move Mama catches my eye and sits up straighter, pointedly holding her shoulders back and chin up. I sigh, and unwillingly take up the correct posture; I am rewarded with a smile and a wink. I smile back and turn to gaze out of the window at the velvet star-studded sky. The countryside glides serenly past as we roll towards Petrograd, and I smile. I am looking forward to this.