Sofya Yanovskaya

The boy’s hands were even on her sister’s breasts. But Katya did not tattle. The last thing she wanted was to give Sofya a reason to tell their mother where Katya had been running off to. “Mama?” Katya asked with hesitance. “Have you ever wished that you lived in the palace?” The unexpected question made Tatyana look up from her dough. “Don’t be silly. I don’t belong in the palace. And neither do you. It is not our place.” “Does Lady Katya wish she were a Sheremetev Duchess?” Sofya sneered. Katya ignored the tease. “Not even when you were younger, Mama?” “When I was young I wished to be a good wife,” Tatyana said, her bottom lip protruding out in a small frown. “I think you’ve always been a good wife to Papa,” Sofya told her mother. “I have. I have,” Tatyana repeated more to herself than to her daughter. “But what if you were the wife of a Sheremetev? Don’t you think life would be much better in the palace?” Katya asked. Tatyana stopped attacking the dough for a second time. “Katya, where is all this nonsense coming from?” She furrowed her brow and eyed her daughter in…