Chapter 7
“Here we go,” April sing-songed as she entered the dining room with a tea tray, complete with bite-sized sweets. “Nice hot tea, and a little something to soothe that sweet tooth.”
She set the tray down then went around the table to pick up the empty plates. “I do hope you gentlemen had your fill,” she said as she set the dirty dishes on the side table.
Igor offered only a grunt as he reached out to the teapot.
April returned to the table and playfully tapped Igor’s hand with the tips of her fingers. “Please, allow me.”
She poured tea into a delicate cup adorned with pink roses. “Sugar?”
“Three,” he said, holding up his thumb, index and middle finger.
Cocking a surprised brow, April dutifully dropped three sugar cubes into the hot tea. “Milk?”
“Absolutely not.”
She set the cup and saucer in front of him and added a small spoon to the saucer, then proceeded to pour tea into a second cup. “Sugar?”
Boris nodded. “And milk.”
She served him his tea, poured a cup for Sonya and herself and sat down.
“Please tell me, Sonya,” April said, holding the delicate cup of hot tea up to her lips. “Did you mention that you’ve visited England?” She blew lightly on the steaming liquid.
Sonya shook her head. “I wish I could say that I had, but unfortunately, I never got around to visiting that country. I do have a few friends in England, and back in China, my tutors were British. They played a big part in piquing my interest in their country.” She shook her head as she thought back to her youth.
“I do wish I’d taken the opportunity to visit England before I got married. ”
Shocked, April set her cup down on her saucer. “You’re married? You didn’t mention that. How long have you been married?”
Sonya let out a gentle chuckle. “Oh, I got married when I was far too young. Your age, actually. Seventeen years old and I went off with my husband thinking that I knew everything there was to know about life. How wrong I was. My husband was very young, too. My visions of marriage were completely skewed.”
“Humph,” Igor let out. “Women.”
April ignored him. “Are you saying that things didn’t work out between the two of you?”
Sonya shook her head. “I was really too young to know what I really wanted. My husband... oh, he was very handsome. But... well, there’s more to a relationship than just looking good. Turned out that he wasn’t really who I expected him to be.”
“That’s too bad.”
Sonya shrugged. “Had I not been so quick to marry him, perhaps I could have visited Buckingham Palace like I’ve always dreamed. Oh, and what I wouldn’t give to go see a play... something dramatic and intriguing at the Shakespeare Globe Theater.”
“I’m with you on that one,” April said. “I love the theater. There’s a small amphitheater in the next town and they occasionally have amateur theater in the park type of thing... you know, Romeo and Juliet, Macbeth, The Taming of the Shrew... things like that.”
“If you wish, we could study a bit of Shakespeare. I’ve read almost all of his works and I’ve yet to be disappointed. I’m quite partial to A Midsummer Night’s Dream. And, of course, The Tempest.”
April clasped her hands together in delight. “Oh. I would love to study Shakespeare. Oh, to read Hamlet and Othello.”
“I’m sure that we could look into those.”
“Ha!” Igor grunted.
Sonya glanced quizzically at him.
“Shakespeare is a paltry writer when compared to Germany’s great.”
“Really?” Sonya said. “Like who?”
“Johann Wolfgang von Goethe,” Igor said with pride. “Poet. Dramatist. Creator of the modern romantic hero.”
Remembering what little she’d learned of German literature, Sonya nodded. “Ah, yes. The Sorrows of Young Werther.”
Igor nodded. “Die Leiden des Jungen Werther.”
“That is a very interesting work,” Sonya conceded. “A love triangle that becomes so destructive.”
“Don’t forget Faust,” Boris said.
Igor let out a bellowing laugh. “Ah, yes. How can we forget Faust?” He eyed the women with contempt. “A pact with the devil. Tell me how your Shakespeare can do better than that.”
“I wouldn’t take you as a God-fearing man,” Sonya said.
“You are right,” Igor spat. “I do not believe in anything. I believe only in the good of the state. Faust is merely fiction, but better than the rest.”
“Good literature is good literature, no matter the origin,” April calmly told him before turning to Sonya.
“Did you know that, Queen Elizabeth I, such a strong and wise ruler, reigned over England at the time of Shakespeare’s writings.
She was such a great patron of the arts and it is clear that her strength influenced him. ”
“Ha!” Igor let out. “ A man who allows a mere female to influence him is no man at all.”
Ignoring him, Sonya smiled at April. “You know, my nickname is Elizabeth.”
“Is it?”
Sonya nodded.
“You wouldn’t believe it, but my middle name is Elizabeth, too. I feel it is so glamorous like the movie star Elizabeth Taylor. It’s such a pretty name. Classic. Timeless. It never goes out of style.” April looked at Sonya over her steaming cup of tea. “How did you come to have that as a nickname?”
Sonya shrugged. “I don’t know really. My husband started calling me that one day. Maybe it was simply my admiration for the woman. He must have grown so accustomed to hearing me speak of her that the name stuck.”
“And did your husband have a nickname?”
Sonya let out a genuine and heartfelt laugh. “Oh, yes. His nickname was Henry.. as in Henry VIII.”
April immediately brought one hand to her neck, stroking her skin gently. “How dreadful.”
Sonya laughed. “Actually, he thought of King Henry as a strong man. A strong king. Imagine that.”
“You don’t have to be very strong to destroy six wives.”
“Well, there was Catherine Parr who managed fairly well, but... yes, indeed,” Sonya said. “The man had the habit of blaming his wives for not giving him a son when it was he who was at fault.”
“How many of his wives were beheaded?” April said.
“There were only two of the six, both accused of adultery. He divorced two of them; Jane Seymour and Anne of Cleves who...”
“German!” Igor shouted. “Anne of Cleves was of German blood. A beautiful German woman who became queen of England.”
“Actually,” Sonya argued, “Their union was annulled barely six months later. Anne of Cleves was never crowned queen.”
“That’s beside the point...” Igor muttered.
Sonya turned back to April. “As the count goes, two of his wives were beheaded, he divorced two other, one died of natural causes and, as mentioned, one survived unscathed.”
“The man is a hero,” Igor said, praising a non-German for the first time. “Any man who domineers his wife is to be applauded. A man needs to be strong, show his power, show no fear, no sympathy... if he is to rule with efficiency.”
“Ja,” Boris said. “It is a doggie dog world out there and you have to be tough.”
Sonya and April looked at Boris with an amused smile. Tempted to tell him that it was actually a dog eat dog world, Sonya let it slide.
“There is no reason in the world to torture your own citizens,” April argued.
“The man was a terror,” Sonya said with an agreeing nod.
“I think it could be very interesting to study Henry VIII in our history class. England has been through a lot of interesting periods. Henry had an interesting life, from being crowned at the tender age of seventeen, to terrorizing his citizenry, to dying at fifty-five years old following complications due to an old jousting injury. I think you would enjoy learning more about him and his wives.”
“I very much look forward to starting my studies with you, Sonya. It all sounds so fascinating. I’m hungry to know about everything that makes the world go round... the world’s leaders... kings, emperors, presidents and prime ministers.”
“I can’t tell you how pleased I am to hear you say that.
There’s nothing more rewarding than having a bright and eager student.
And when it comes to history in particular, a good student of history is always.
.. always... a good student of humanity.
Knowing the mistakes and victories of our past, guides us as we move toward the future.
I hold to the hope that learning from our past mistakes, will spare us the consequences of repeating them. ”
Sonya reached into the depths of her long sleeve and retrieved a small, tattered and dog-eared book. “On a completely different topic, this is a very special book that I would like to share with you,” she said as she pushed the soft leather covered book across the table to April.
“A Book of Prayers by Anonymous,” April read as she picked it up. “I’m sure it must be very nice.”
Sonya nodded. “It may sound silly, but this book really helped to get me through some pretty tough times.” Simply seeing the small handbook brought her back to a time when she thought she would go insane.
Imprisoned, she thought she would never feel the warmth of the sun on her skin again.
When left for dead, that little book had given her the strength to go on, to fight and to survive.
How valuable that little book had turned out to be for her.
“Sonya?” April called out. “Are you still with us?”
“Huh?” Sonya said as she left the horrors of that far away prison and rejoined the group around the dining room table. “Um, yes. Of course.”
“Are you all right?” April said. “You looked positively horrified for a moment there.” She looked at the book in her hand and back at Sonya.
Sonya smiled. “I’m fine. I had something caught in my throat and it made my eyes water somewhat.” She tapped the top of the book in April’s hands. “In addition to this, what other books would you like to analyze?”
“I’ve heard such remarkable things about a book by Mark... oh, what’s his name? Mark Shain? Mark Cain?”
Sonya smiled. “Mark Twain. Ah, yes. A good choice.”
“Huckleberry Finn is the name of the book.”
“Delightful. I think you’ll enjoy it. A book about finding one’s independence... freedom... and dealing with prejudices.”