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A Million Worlds with You

Page 64

   


Paul nods. “It did. I was a part of him during those last few weeks, and I remember—” His voice breaks off, nakedly emotional in a way he’s never shown before. But those days in Saint Petersburg, and that night in the dacha, remain some of the most powerful in either of our lives.
Remember that, Paul. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. That wasn’t only her. That was us, too.
Finally he manages to say to the grand duchess, “He loved you so much. I will always carry that inside me. As long as I’m alive, in some way, so is his love for you.”
The grand duchess kisses his hands, and tears well in her eyes. Paul looks like he might break down too. I should stop watching them, grant them at least the illusion of privacy, but I can’t look away.
“The baby,” she begins, then holds one hand up to Paul’s mouth before he can begin to apologize. “If it is a boy, I will of course name him for you. But what name would you choose for a girl?”
He glances over his shoulder at my mom, who is even now preparing to take Warverse back home. With her yoga clothes and sloppy bun, she must look nothing like the bejeweled tsarina the grand duchess remembers, but she’s so like my mom at home—the one who loves Paul nearly as much as she loves me. He says, “Sophia. In most worlds she means more to me than my real mother ever has.”
“Sophia, then.” The grand duchess smiles up at him through her tears. “I have so much to say, and yet anything less than a lifetime would never be enough time to say it. Just know that I am and will be well. When the day comes, I look forward to telling our child all about you.” She clutches Paul’s hand tighter and holds it to her heart. “I will love you until the end of my days.”
Paul pulls her close again and kisses her.
I have no business feeling jealous. The hot rush that sweeps through me, as if I’d been slapped, can’t even compare to how the grand duchess must have felt when she understood that I took the one night she could ever have had with her Paul. And later on I know I’ll even be glad she had a chance to say her own goodbye.
That doesn’t make it easier to watch Paul kissing anyone else, even another me.
When they break apart, to my surprise, the grand duchess walks in my direction, stopping only a few paces away. “It was you who visited my world,” she says, her hands clasped in front of her. Even though a tear from her farewell to Paul has traced an uneven track down her cheek, her composure is already complete. “You were my shadow self.”
“I am so sorry.” The apology I gave her in my letter doesn’t even come close to being enough. “The things I did—I got caught up in the emotion of the moment, and I took all these risks without asking whether you would have done the same—”

“I would not have,” the grand duchess says.
Once again, I feel slapped, and this time, I’ve earned it completely. I hang my head, no longer able to face her.
But then the grand duchess continues, “I would not have had the courage.” When I look up, she is—somehow—smiling. “My path had been laid out for me since before I was born, and never had I dared to deviate from it, even by a single step. Not even for the love I felt for Lieutenant Markov. You took me off that path forever, and I am glad of it. Glad for the memories I would never have known but for you, glad for the chance to know my real father, gladdest for the child I will bear. You have given me the chance to make my own fate, and there is no more priceless gift in the world.”
It takes me far too long to find the breath to answer her. “You’re being nicer to me than I deserve.”
“None of us can know the full consequences of our actions. Just know that I am more than content with the consequences of yours.” The grand duchess holds out her hand, as she would to a courtier, then frowns—like that’s not quite right, but she doesn’t know what else to do. Admittedly this is not a situation covered in most etiquette books.
I just clasp her hand and smile. “Have a really great life,” I whisper. “You deserve it.”
“I plan to try.” The grand duchess looks over at Theo then. Her expression is no more than friendly, maybe a touch amused by the differences between her own dapper Theodore Beck and this one in his jeans and T-shirt. Yet it makes me wonder what might happen eventually, after she has mourned for Lieutenant Markov, and her friendship with Theo has deepened over months and years.
Probably I’m reading too much into it. But when I think of her raising Paul’s child with Theo by her side, it seems like a beautiful future, one worth having.
“Oh, and one more thing,” I say to her, thinking of one other person I got to know in the Russiaverse. “If Vladimir understands about the shadow worlds, if he ever believes—would you tell him hello? I miss him sometimes. Katya and Peter, too. But especially tell Vladimir that if I’d had a big brother in this dimension, I would have wanted one just like him.”
Slowly the grand duchess nods. “I think Vladimir would be pleased to hear that.”
“Okay.” Theo claps his hands together at the center of the room, bringing our attention back to the situation at hand. I realize only then that my parents are gone, taking Oceanverse and Cambridgeverse with them, because now those two clones are huddled apart from the rest of us, deep in conversation, clearly freaked out. “I figure the Russiaverse is my last stop, since it’s going to take me longest to help out there. Maybe I take Mafiaverse, and Paul can take Warverse back home?”
“I should move on to that universe you were talking about,” I say to Paul. “But as long as Wicked is stuck here, maybe there’s less of a rush. I can keep the others company, explain more of the details.”
Victoire, newly untied, crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Is anyone going to do anything about the evil phantom inside me?”
Theo, Paul, and I exchange glances. Theo ventures, “Um, we don’t actually have anyplace to put her that isn’t going to unleash her on the multiverse again.”
Paul tries to reassure her. “The chances of her unduly affecting you are undefined but unlikely.”
Victoire raises her eyebrows. “‘Undefined’?”
Paul isn’t always as comforting as he thinks he is. I hastily add, “We’ll get her out, I swear, as soon as we’re sure the multiverse is safe. Mom and Dad know to look out for you, and I can spend a while here before I have to move on—”