Look Beyond What You See

The Garden

 "Dmitri, Aerys, you won't be having lessons today," Zinaida announces at the breakfast table. I glance up from my blini with barely concealed irritation. My reading last night and waking up early to study Russian have put me a mite bit behind on sleep, and hearing that one of my few pleasures is being taken away for the day hardly improves my situation or my mood.

"Whyever not, Mother?" Dmitri asks, no doubt sensing my disgruntled aura and choosing to handle the situation before I make some snarky remark.

"Because today we will be hosting a ball to celebrate your engagement, and you simply must spend the day practicing for a few minor ceremonial things and getting ready." The look on Zinaida's face is a blissful picture of the rosy imaginings flitting through her mind--more than enough to make me shudder in horror. Dmitri and I exchange glances; our thoughts are mirror images. There has to be a way for us to get out of this.

"What sort of ceremonial things?" Dmitri asks, his tone a bit more testy now that he knows the sort of torture to which we will be subjected. Zinaida's eyes widen with surprise that her son does not already know this vital information.

"Just the announcement and the showing of your necklaces, that's all. Oh, and I expect that you'll lead the first few dances. It's only customary, after all. Aerys, dear, you do know how to ballroom dance, don't you?"

"They say I'm quite proficient in the art," I reply coolly, keeping my eyes lowered. There's no use in showing her my irritation. Zinaida actually claps her hands with delight.

"Excellent! I'm sure the two of you will be absolutely marvellous. I've never seen a pair better suited, I must say, and of course all the relatives will think so, too...." Zinaida continues twittering on, but Dmitri visibly blanches at the mention of relatives. It's not hard to guess why: They'll all be elementals, and I'm not meant to know that any of them are in the least bit inhuman. What a splendid mess this is. I should like to go back to bed when this ill-fated meal is over. But that is not to be, I can tell just from the endless streams of words pouring from my fiancé's mother's lips. I can already see my day being wasted on pointless ceremonial practices, being stuffed into a ridiculously uncomfortable costume for the night's festivities, and then being tied down for evil witches to unnecessarily style and ornament my hair and paint my face. Dmitri looks as displeased as I feel, though I can't imagine why. Men have it easy. They don't have to wear corsets.

"Mother, might I have a few words with you in private?" Dmitri interjects suddenly. Without waiting for a reply, he pulls her out of her chair and behind a screen at the other end of the dining room. This puzzles me; surely they should have stepped outside if he wanted privacy. As things are, I can hear everything, despite their conversing in mostly low whispers.

"Goodness, Dmitri, whatever is the matter? It's very rude to leave your fiancée alone like that--" Zinaida begins.

"This can't wait," Dmitri hisses in reply. "How do you intend to keep her from finding out about our family if you invite all of our relatives into our home? You can hardly think that characters like Great-Uncle Barney and Cousin Wycliffe are going to help you keep any sort of secret." Oh, so there are some interesting characters in the family. These both sound like Wesley's relatives. Perhaps tonight will not be as boring as I feared.

"You worry too much. I specifically mentioned the delicacy of the situation in all of the invitations. Everything will be fine."

"You place entirely too much faith in them. Perhaps you're right and no one will make the truth obvious on purpose, but anyone could slip up by accident, especially those unused to human society, and she is very smart and perceptive--"

"Annoyingly so. Her grandmother always praised her intelligence but also her demure demeanor and lack of curiosity. I almost wonder if they sent us a different girl." Her remark about my 'demure demeanor and lack of curiosity' almost make me burst into incredulous laughter. I have played my part well then, at home, at least. "That necklace was supposed to make a difference... I can never quite tell if it's working or not." Good.