The Paleys (1921-1927) - An Alternate Romanov Story

Lessons

April 1922

Vladimir

The weight of the longest, harshest winter since the war seemed to finally lift from Petrograd as spring, with an almost defiant suddenness, burst into the city. The air was now soft and sweet, carrying the heady scent of life awakening. As Vladimir made his way through the imposing corridors of the Winter Palace, his steps echoed in the silent grandeur. He was on his way to another French lesson with the Grand Duke Michael's children, Tata and George. His eyes, however, were drawn to the palace gardens, which showed a splash of green and colour against the building's imposing facade and he longed to be outside.

When he reached the Grand Duke's private apartments, he decided to seize the opportunity. "Perhaps, Your Highnesses," he suggested, "we could continue our lesson in the garden? It would be a shame to waste this beautiful weather indoors."

Tata's face lit up with a smile. The prospect of escaping the stuffy confines of the palace seemed to be undeniably appealing. As for George, his young face transformed into a mask of pure, unadulterated joy. It was as if Vladimir had offered him a kingdom.

Once outside, the trio began to arrange their materials on a sturdy garden table. Vladimir carefully placed his books and papers, while Tata and George contributed their own stationery. The table was nestled amidst a riot of colour – tulips in every shade imaginable, daffodils reaching for the sun, and hyacinths filling the air with their sweet perfume. The gentle rustling of leaves and the cheerful chirping of birds provided a soothing soundtrack to their lesson. A host of tiny insects buzzed and flitted around.

While Vladimir immersed himself in teaching Tata the intricacies of French grammar, George became a whirlwind of energy, exploring every corner of the garden. He chased butterflies, climbed small trees, and seemed to have an uncanny ability to find every hidden nook and cranny. His laughter was a constant, joyful accompaniment to the lesson.

The day's subject, however, was proving challenging to his pupil, who was staring blankly at the page. "Tata, mon amie," he began gently, "we've covered the subjunctive before. Remember, it's used for expressing wishes, doubts, emotions, and so on."

Tata nodded slowly. "I know, Vladimir. But it's so confusing!"

"I understand," Vladimir reassured her, "It takes practice. Let's try this again. Look at this sentence: 'Je veux que tu viennes avec moi.' This means 'I want you to come with me.' Notice how 'que tu viennes' is in the subjunctive."

Tata's brow furrowed. "Why can't we just say 'Je veux tu viens'?"

Vladimir chuckled. "Well, that's a good question. The subjunctive adds a layer of nuance to the sentence. It expresses your desire or wish more strongly."

He paused, considering how to explain further. "Imagine you're asking a friend to do something. You wouldn't just say, 'You do this.' You'd say, 'I want you to do this.' The subjunctive helps convey that desire."

Tata seemed to be thinking hard. "Alright, I think I get it. But what about this one? 'Il est important que tu étudies.' Why 'que tu étudies' and not just 'tu étudies'?"

"Excellent question, Tata. In this case, 'il est important que' introduces the subjunctive. It's like setting the stage for the subjunctive mood. It's a way to express necessity or importance."

Vladimir leaned forward, offering encouragement. "Don't worry, Tata. It takes time. Let's try some exercises together. We'll break it down, step by step."

He opened his notebook and began to write. "Conjugate the verb 'être' in the subjunctive present."

Tata looked at the page, her face scrunched up in concentration. "Okay, so it's 'je sois', 'tu sois', 'il soit'..." She trailed off, unsure.

Vladimir smiled patiently. "Almost, Tata. It's 'je sois', 'tu sois', 'il soit', then 'nous soyons', 'vous soyez', and 'ils soient'."

Tata repeated the conjugations, slowly at first, then with more confidence. "I think I'm getting it!" she exclaimed.

Vladimir nodded. "Wonderful! Now, let's try forming some sentences using these conjugations."

As Vladimir sat across from Tata, he noticed the shift in her demeanour. She sat up straighter, her shoulders back, and a confident smile spread across her face. He remembered when he first agreed to tutor her in French, hesitant because they had known each other for years and she was older than his usual students. But now, watching her speak with ease and grace in his native tongue, he felt proud of her progress. It wasn't easy at first - she lacked confidence in herself despite her excellent French skills - but now she confidently trusted herself more and more every day.

"You really are an excellent teacher, Vladimir," she told him at the end of the lesson, as she closed her notebook. "No one has ever been able to show me how this worked so quickly and clearly before."

A faint blush rose to Vladimir's cheeks at the compliment. Teaching teenage boys at the Corps des Pages was one thing, but tutoring a mature girl of eighteen was an entirely different experience. He had never received compliments from his male students, but this student seemed to understand and appreciate his lessons much more deeply.

"I couldn't do it without an eager student like you," he replied with a smile.

Tata's smile faltered slightly as she glanced up at her mother's private apartments. Vladimir was certain that the Countess was watching their lesson closely, as she always did.

"Well, my mother doesn't seem to share your opinion," she said, trying to brush it off, but her hurt was evident in her eyes. "She believes my pronunciation is still too Russian, and that no one would mistake me for a French girl even if I were born in France."

Vladimir winced inwardly. Though Tata rarely spoke about her personal life during their lessons, he could tell that she had a complicated relationship with her mother. The Countess would always be charming and gracious towards him when they were together, but she always found fault with everything Tata did. Once, she even commented on Tata's messy hair right in front of Vladimir, which he found highly inappropriate.

"I spent my childhood in France and I can honestly say that your pronunciation is excellent," he reassured her. "It takes a lot of effort for a native Russian speaker to master all the intricacies of the French language. Even your own mother may not have achieved such fluency."

Tata let out a small laugh at that before catching herself. "I've been speaking only in French with Natasha lately to keep practising, even outside of our lessons," she confided. "But I think she likes me too much to give honest criticism. She wouldn't want to hurt my feelings."

Vladimir couldn't help but laugh heartily at that. "You know Natasha as well as I do by now," he said. "She's the last person to sugarcoat anything, especially if someone asks her for an honest opinion. Trust me, if she says you're doing well, then you really are."

Tata gazed at Vladimir, seemingly lost in thought as if she had forgotten what she wanted to say. Her once direct and clear eyes now appeared distant and dreamy, an uncommon softness settling over them. A faint blush tinged her cheeks, adding to the quiet moment. Vladimir patiently waited, sensing something delicate unfolding.

"Tata?" he prompted softly, a touch of concern in his voice.

Her head snapped back as if she had just been jolted awake from a dream, and her cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red. "Sorry, I got lost in thought," she apologized.

Vladimir chuckled, his voice laced with concern. "I could tell. Do you want to stay for George's lesson?"

Tata shook her head once more. "No, thank you. I really should be going now. My mother probably needs me for something, although I can't seem to remember what it was."

Vladimir grinned at her. "Well then, have a good rest of your day. See you next Wednesday?"

Tata's nodded vigorously. "Yes, definitely next Wednesday. By then, I'm hoping to have mastered the subjunctive."

"I highly doubt that, but we have plenty of time to work on it," Vladimir replied with a chuckle.

He knew she was fully capable of figuring it out before the next class, but he wanted to push her and give her a sense of accomplishment when she proved him right. Despite his challenge, she looked at him defiantly, a spark of competitiveness igniting within her. She turned on her heel and made her way back to the palace.