Look Beyond What You See

Artistry

"I'm glad to see that this garden has survived this morning's altercation," I remark airily as I slide off Excalibur's back in the Japanese garden, which looks somewhat the worse for wear, with puddles and debris everywhere, but somehow no less lovely all the same. "The air is so fresh and clean."

Dmitri chuckles warmly as he joins me on the ground. "Yes. Bright with the promise of new beginnings and the joy of those creatures who survived, yet eerie with the reminders of those things that did not," he answers sagely as he picks up some of the vegetative debris scattered by the consequences of the quarrel.

"Truly, what happened to cause such an uproar? I understand why your parents were angry, but—"

"Mother woke up this morning just as angry as she was when she went to bed, about how things turned out at the ball. As you've already heard, she's positively livid that so many secrets she intended to keep until after our wedding have been brought to light, and she blamed Father and me both for those revelations. That sparked Father's fury, already aroused by the way he found us this morning, even further, as no one could have prevented how things fell out last night. And Mother, once we told her about this morning..." He takes a deep breath and then launches into a nearly flawless imitation of Lady Berkeley. "'How could you have been so irresponsible, especially after everything went so wrong last night? I know I've raised you better than this! Are you trying to disgrace your family? Haven't you any compassion for my poor nerves?! There is absolutely no excuse for such dishonorable conduct!'"

"An excellent impression. Well done."

"Thank you. I've been practicing for years. That lecture was nothing compared to when I tried to defend Father, against her accusations that he should have somehow prevented last night's fallout, by reminding her that I warned her about what could happen at a family gathering such as last night, and—"

"She probably flew into a right royal fury at hearing 'I told you so' from you."

"Describing it that way doesn't even do it justice. Her winds were only slightly louder and shriller than her voice. 'Of all the unreasonable, ungrateful twaddle—' It wasn't to be borne. Father told her to calm herself, that I meant well enough and that what's done is done and cannot be undone, but at that point there was no reasoning with her and things quickly devolved into a shouting match. Before long they were not even arguing about last night anymore, but rather other problems between the two of them, and things got quite uncomfortable for me."

"What sorts of problems?"

"Strain caused by the two of them working for different countries, for one. Apparently it's adversely affecting their relationship. And Mother wishes she were closer to her relatives in Russia. She misses them and the life there, it seems, but Father adamantly refuses to move to Russia. He says Switzerland is quite far enough from his own home to suit him and that she ought to be grateful for the relative peace we have by living here, protected by the Alps and the tendency of the Swiss to stay out of European conflicts--"

"So we are in Switzerland?"

"Oh! Yes. I had quite forgotten that you were never told that. I suppose I'll be in trouble for revealing that, too, but it simply cannot be helped."

"At this point it hardly matters. Apparently I'm not meant to know much of anything useful."

"Understand, she means well. She's really not a bad sort. She's just very set in her ways and overprotective, and as beautiful as this place is, she's never been as fond of it as her old estate in Russia. And her upbringing instilled her with some, erm, rather antiquated ideas about a woman's place."