Nikolai felt his stomach drop when the young lady woke up and started whipping out flawless French. His grasp of French was much shakier and undoubtedly less proper, having learned most of it from Alexei on their various campaigns. Nikolai's vocabulary was singularly limited, and the words he knew best were "fuck," "whore" and "how much?"<br/><br/>"Is palace of Czar," he said stiltedly. "You hurt on boat, we bring you here. You were boy, now girl? Why?"<br/><br/>When he saw her continuing to struggle to sit up, he got up and wrapped his arm around her shoulders and eased her back down on the pillows. He sat on the edge of the bed next to her and patted her delicate little hand, noticing the red raw skin, no doubt from rough work on the boat.<br/><br/>"Lie down" - now that was a command in French he was familiar with. "You hit head. Not good. Dr. Yelkin come and fix head."