And the Tsar obediently, though shyly withal, took the wounded hand and kissed it.
‘Oh, Tsar, I am not worthy!’ exclaimed Praskovia, sinking on her knees and catching at the edge of his kaftan to raise it to her lips.
But when the Regent bade Ivan kiss Praskovia’s forehead and tell her she was the most beautiful of all his maidens, the Tsar’s eyes were fixed upon Vera—and this is not to be wondered at, for indeed at this moment she looked so radiantly lovely—in the light, I suppose, of happiness secured—that those who observed her declared they never saw so much beauty in any face as in hers at this moment.
CHAPTER XXV
Though Vera was not actually released from the terem for two days after this, there was little talk of any Tsaritsa but Praskovia Soltikof.
The Tsar, though in his foolish, weak way he seemed to regret Vera, grew—it is said—hourly fonder of Praskovia, and by degrees he began to show something of the spirit of a man towards her. This circumstance gave the greatest delight to Sophia, who, said Mazeppa, made no secret of it that she had not expected such good fortune.
‘There is the succession to think of,’ she explained; ‘for you will understand that it would please us better if Ivan should provide an heir rather than that we should depend for succession upon such brats as the young scapegrace at Preobrajensky may raise to himself.’
When Vera was at last allowed to go forth from the terem she went straight back to the Diévitchy monastery, but was not received by the new Superior, who declared that she feared the anger of the Regent; therefore she was obliged to return to her father’s house, where she incurred the rage of the old Boyar, who, disappointed of his hopes in her, did not receive her with the kindness of a parent, but rather with the fury of a madman.
But Vera cared little for his rage, seeing that she had escaped the great danger she had feared, and which indeed had at one moment threatened to swamp for ever her happiness.
‘And there,’ said Mazeppa, ending his tale, ‘she is now, thanking God daily for her escape; and Praskovia Soltikof is the chosen Tsaritsa, announced to the people and accepted by the Tsar, who—if I mistake not—will sometimes wish that he had chosen as his poor heart first dictated; for if one thing is more certain than another in this world, it is that his fancy—such as it is—went out to Vera rather than to her who is to be his wife!’