I never knew exactly when Ferdinand was dismissed from the company. One night I danced with him and the next the Funeral Dance was cut from the show and I performed a solo. His picture and name were stripped from the posters and advertisements. He no longer danced for the Lennox Company, and I didn't see his departure. A goodbye hadn't even been a distant dream.
Listening to Mr. Lennox's words, I tried not to let Ferdinand's leaving get as far as my heart. Whether Mr. Lennox had fired him, or he had left because of the beating, no one told me. But he was gone, and he made no attempt to talk to me. I had caused him so much pain that I did not blame him. But I couldn't let that effect my dancing. I pushed him firmly from my mind, locking the memory of the room beneath the stage and the feeling of his hands against mine into a dark corner of my mind that I carefully made sure to avoid. Now I had to focus on my dancing, for without Ferdinand's star power our popularity took a turn for the worse.
The nobles slowly came less and less until our private boxes stood empty and the majority of the seats went empty during performances. We were forced into lowering our ticket prices in order to be sure that the only customers we had left, the factory workers and their families, could afford to come. So amongst the plush velvet and dazzling sparkling costumes, whole families in ragged clothes and struggling to keep the smallest children quiet looked out of place. I wished that we still performed in the old school house where the audience wouldn't look as uncomfortable as they did, and we wouldn't be touted in every newspaper around as the failing new project of the Crown. We became symbols of a king's old fashioned and destructive follies. A wound spurting money in an already crippled kingdom.
Without me really noticing it, the ranks of our audience became to switch out from the factory workers to men wearing white uniforms. They seemed to invade so gradually that I only noticed them when I bowed during one show and looked up to see a sea of them, stretching before me. They clapped as if it was their job, their mouths thin lines in their serious faces. And right in front of me I saw the familiar figure of Doctor Alkaev. He had swapped out the suit from the party into a uniform like the men around him. His bore a gold sash across his chest that made my stomach clench with unease.
When the curtains fell and Mr. Lennox pulled my arm through his to walk me back to the practice room, Doctor Alkaev intercepted us. He raised a hand in greeting and Mr. Lennox shook it.
"How are you, Alkaev?" he said, motioning for Gertrude and the others to walk ahead. He didn't say one way or the other what I was supposed to do, but when I tried to extract my arm, he looked down and shook his head.
I still wasn't trusted on my own, then.
"I would like to introduce you to Karl Matveev," Alkaev said, turning to rest his hand on the shoulder of a young man with a dour looking face and broad shoulders. His hair fell in a youthful flop across his forehead, but he seemed completely unaware of being only a few years older than me. He offered his hand to Mr. Lennox and nodded his head in greeting.
"Doctor Alkaev has said much about you, Mr. Lennox," Matveev said.
Mr. Lennox nodded at the young man's sleeve as he shook his hand. "You wear the Rose of Freedom. You are a supporter of the Vigilant Men's stance?"
I stiffened, my eyes seeking out that white cloth rose that was tucked away almost hidden beneath his cuff. Matveev pulled down his jacket sleeve until the rose disappear under it.
Doctor Alkaev broke the tension by clapping both men on the shoulder and pushing them along the hallway until we came to the practice room. I went inside expecting to see my fellow dancers, but instead seeing a group of white-uniformed men. They looked up at our entrance and greeted Mr. Lennox with raised glasses of clear liquor.
General Masha stood amongst their ranks, the only one in a navy uniform, and shook hands with the three new additions. I finally managed to slip away from Mr. Lennox and crept to my spot in the corner where my street clothes were folded across my trunk.
I couldn't change while they stood there, and I feared trying to leave the room should one of them remember my presence. So I hunkered down, pulling a spare blanket over my legs and leaning my head against the wall.
At first they talked of things I didn't understand, apparently knowing each other from some previous meeting. I tried to keep my attention on their words, but as they went on about former lives in the king's army, I began to find myself drifting off. The grueling new practices Mr. Lennox put me through since Ferdinand had gone, coupled with just coming off a show, combined to drain the energy from me. My eyes dipped closed and I entered into a misty dream-state as the men's deep voices created a buzzing backdrop.
"Aligning with the Vigilant Men is not something that the Common Arm can endorse!"
I jerked awake and glanced at the group of men. One of them, a bald man with a particularly red face, was shaking his head as Matveev frowned deeply.
"The Vigilant Men are a strong force," Matveev said. "Without us, you're hopeless outnumbered."
"A strong force of what? Factory workers and their skinny wives?" the bald man demanded. "What authority do you even hold? You're a dock worker that still stinks of rotten fish."
Matveev threw down his glass of alcohol and it shattered into a spray of glass as he launched himself at the bald man. He only managed to rip the man's collar before General Masha and a few of the other men wrestled him back.
"Pigs like Yenko should be the ones thrown from the alliance," Matveev spit.
The bald man, Yenko, straightened his torn uniform with all the grace that said he certainly didn't think he was the one at fault. "The Common Army is a group of trained fighters. Joining a rabble to our ranks that has already demonstrated its complete lack of competency cannot do us any good."
"Yenko," Doctor Alkaev warned. "There is no decision to be made here. The Vigilant are already part of our plans. Settle down and cool off before I reconsider the part I gave you."
The group took a moment to reconvene and many more glasses of alcohol were downed. Finally, General Masha pulled out a letter and handed it to Doctor Alkaev.
"My contract with the Common Army," General Masha explained. "I want to be sure of the funds before I do anything."
Doctor Alkaev stared at him for a moment, and the men shifted uncomfortably around him. "Your trust in the Common Army is leaving something to be desired, Masha." Nonetheless, he drew out a pen from an inside jacket and set the paper against the wall to sign neatly. He handed it back to General Masha, who took it and quickly folded it to stuff back in his jacket as if it might fly away if he was not fast enough.
"Lennox," Alkaev said. "I want to talk to you about a special dance."
"Of course," Mr. Lennox said.
"I want you to dance it for the king. General Masha will take care of getting you another invitation. But we want him to see it."
Mr. Lennox's eyes flicked to me. "Just a moment," he said to Alkaev, and excused himself to walk toward me.
I stood as he approached.
"Nadia, I think perhaps you can head on home now," he said.
My mouth popped open before I could stop it. Giving me permission to walk home, the entire way, without him or even an escort? It was not something I thought I'd ever hear, and especially not while he was still angry at me.
Though I was longing to know what this new dance the men in the white uniforms wanted to talk to Mr. Lennox about, the temptation of witnessing the city on my own was too strong to resist. I nodded my head almost wildly, and snatched up my street clothes and boots before racing from the room. Once out of the practice room, I heard them bolt the lock and resume talking in low voices, but I didn't care anymore. I ducked into the first empty room and changed out of the costume, tossing it in a pile in a corner to fetch at some later date.
I burst from the theater into the snow filled street, barely containing a smile and looking with new eyes on the building around me. Without someone by my side, everything seemed taller, bigger, and mysterious. I passed by what I knew to be a munitions factory, but noticed that across the top there was still the faint remains of the name of the firehouse that once stood there. I walked by people that nodded their greeting, marveling that they did not duck their heads and dart away as they normally did when I walked with Mr. Lennox. I even stopped to stare in the storefronts at pocket watches and children's hobby horses and beautiful dresses in deep red and pure ivory. The woman arranging the hat to go with one of the dresses adjusted a small white rose to its hatband. The flower did not match the spray of pink wildflowers already there, and it looked too small and plain. She stepped back and folded her hands in front of her apron as she stared down at the flower, almost as if it rested on a grave and not a hat. At that moment she glanced up and caught sight of me watching through the window. Her face slammed shut and she turned on her heel to grab a broom and sweep the floor vigorously.
I backed away from her storefront, feeling the chill of the snow filled air, and bundle my shawl closer as I kicked my way down the sidewalk. Around me, the people of the city blended together in streaks of gray, everyone ducking into their jackets and scarves. Carriages, struggling against the piles of snow and ice on the pavement, passed by the walkers at an even slower pace. Their inhabitants would be in bad luck if they need to be anyplace at a certain time, but they would at least get there with dry shoes and warm hands.
I walked down the familiar path toward the boarding house, knowing that I had at least an hour's walk until I got there, but not minding too much. Mr. Lennox, judging by the gravity of the conversation, would not be home until very late that night.
Behind one of the spires of a church, the sun slid lower on the horizon, spilling orange and pink into the thin clouds and attempting to cheer up the gray sky. The stores began to close up around me, everyone wanting to get home and save on the price of heating their stores during the frigid nights. Keys jangled on rings and bolts clicked into places. The road suddenly became choked with people, getting off work and bustling toward a hearth fire and dinner. I stumbled in their midst, trying to orient myself by the buildings, but soon finding myself in unfamiliar parts. Glittering churches and looming square buildings with no markings on them greeted me at every turn, looking nothing like the industrial business that lined the path home. I was lost. Lost on the first time I was allowed to walk home alone! Mr. Lennox would never let me do it again, that was for certain. That is, if I ever found my way back to him in the first place.
The people nearby pressed me along with them, and I let them carry me. Perhaps they would take me to the parts of the city where they would break up and I'd be able to free myself and find an obliging constable to point me in the direction of the boarding house.
We filtered past the churches and down a small street, before emptying out into the city square.
My legs froze, causing the people behind me to slam into my back with irritated curses. But I couldn't move any further. The state building stood like a beacon, just a few hundred yards away. I knew this was a new building, built after the burnt rubble of the old building had been cleared off, but yet I still saw the flames licking through the stained-glass windows, and heard the rapports of guns echoing against the tiles. When the crowd finally forced me to keep walking, I passed by the spot where the bodies had been piled, readying to be taken back into the burning building. I half-expected to see blood still clogging the cracks, but all I saw were scuffed boots and shuffling legs as the people settled into a semi-circle around the state building's steps.
I looked up, suddenly finding myself amongst a group of expectant faces, all looking toward the state building. From all sides, the people kept coming, pushing tight against those already there, and making room for others as they appeared.
We stood, packed together so tightly that we steamed in the dying light and the snow that fell from the sky melted before it even reached our heads, for what seemed an eternity. Minutes ticked by, and with each that passed I imagined my bed and the comfort of falling asleep after a hard day of dancing. At one point I even thought of ducking to my hands-and-knees and crawling between legs to try and escape the crowd, but thought better of it when I saw the sheer length I would have to traverse. I could only hope that whatever they were gathered for would soon end so that I might get home before Mr. Lennox did.
As I looked toward the other end of the square, a rolling wave of attention washed over the people. Every eye fixed forward and every body tensed. I turned to see what they were looking at just as a group walked out of the double doors of the state building.