I hated everything.
Okay, not everything. But going to a ball without Alexander wasn't something I was exactly looking forward to.
Also, the fact that I didn't even know who Alexander was anymore wasn't entirely particularly pleasant either.
But not to worry. I had done far more upsetting things than going to a Russian ball with a dangerous Russian gang, whose member was my fake fiancee who happened to be the person my husband killed.
A knock at the door made me quit my whining and I slowly trudged to open it.
"Who is it?"
"Open."
Of course. Eugene. No one else had such an apathetic and quiet voice.
"Come on in."
He marched in without waiting a single second. He wasn't alone though. Behind him was a dress.
A ball gown, to be precise.
A pink ball gown, to be more precise.
And to be extremely precise, it was gorgeous with large pink flowers. I think they were roses or peonies or some other flower. I couldn't tell, I wasn't a flower expert.
I did; however, know that they were very beautiful. The green leaves and branches added a very elegant and pristine aspect. The lacy top of it was very mature and formal. It wasn't exactly a royalty dress, but it was no thrift-store clearance rack dress either. It was a happy medium, and I was very happy with it.
"Put it on, makeup and hair, all that stuff you need and be ready soon," Eugene stated shortly and clearly and left
I nodded as he left. Perfect. Time to dazzle me up.
And so I did. I dazzled me up as well as my hormonal self allowed. I gently rubbed my belly.
"Hang in there little baby," I whispered, "Soon everything will be just perfect and our lives will be somewhat back to normal."
'If your father has a good reason for being a murderer, that is,' I quickly noted to myself.
I quickly glanced myself over in the mirror and nodded. Decent.
I walked out of the room and waited for a few moments before the men exited their room.
Misha slowly walked up to me and took my hand. Bending his head, he gave a soft kiss.
"You look stunning, my dear Kate."
"Thank you. Same goes to you. I must admit, a suit and tie don't particularly fit your tough persona, but it's not bad."
He gave a soft laugh. "Let's go. Stephan is already a few meters ahead of us."
I looped my hand through his arm and we marched off.
"So," Misha whispered into my ear as we walked through the hallways that then transferred into city streets, "we are, of course, here on a business visit. Otherwise, we would never attend something so time-consuming and unimportant. There, you are Kate, Stephan is your father, and you are betrothed to me."
I nodded. "And I assume it is your child I am carrying? Is it a boy or a girl?"
He glanced down at my belly quickly.
"Yes. I suppose we would need a story for that. It's very clear now you are pregnant."
I laughed. "Thank you, by the way, for getting me a dress that would allow for my baby."
He winked. "Of course. Although I was not the one to get you the dress. It was Stephan."
I raised an eyebrow. "Noted."
"Now, back to our story. I suppose that yes, for the time being, this baby is 'mine'," he said, putting air quotes around the word 'mine'.
I nodded. "And the gender?"
He cocked his head. "I don't care. Either one works for me."
I frowned. "You have to decide. I'm not going to pick a gender because then I'll hope it's that one."
"A girl." He finally said with a laugh.
I nodded. "A girl."
Little snowflakes were falling from the sky slowly and the entire city was painted over with a grey sky. It was darker than it usually would have been at this time.
The air also smelled wonderful- just like winter. It was almost November, after all, and snow showers weren't uncommon during this time.
I loved winter. The silent snow falling, and everyone gets all quiet suddenly. It's almost as if they only have a few moments to enjoy the winter before it ends, and they want to remember every single unique snowflake.
It was also so pure. Like the blood of Jesus. Funny, how blood could be compared to snow. But it cleaned the city. When I was here with Misha, standing at St. Basils Cathedral, the city seemed so busy and so old and rusted. Not anymore. It was new and clean and bright.
The entire world was silent to listen to the story of winter. Nothing was more beautiful.
We reached a very familiar building. I frowned my eyes. No way was the ball being held here.
Now, from the outside, it didn't seem all that magnificent. Gold and white, with fairly beautiful architecture and design. It was definitely very stunning, but not as stunning as I knew the inside would be.
I had always dreamed of just visiting this place, but now I was going to dance here! A little shiver went down my spine at the marvelous opportunity.
"Ready to step inside, my dear?" Misha gave me a wink and I don't even remember nodding or walking but suddenly I was inside.
I stopped and stared, my eyes wide like my mouth. I had to stop reacting like this each time I visited something in this city, but I couldn't! It was magnificent!
"Ah... Kremlin. Kremlin Palace." I breathed out.
It was so exquisite! So elegant! So royal! It was just stunning! Beyond anything, I had ever seen before! Once again, I was completely speechless. All I wanted to do was tear it apart with my eyes so I could remember every inch in perfect detail.
The gold-rimmed walls and the stunning designs carved into the walls meshed perfectly with the large paintings of the royal families and of other things, such as the beauties of Siberia or St. Petersburg.
"Darling, let's go. We don't want to accidentally turn into one of the statues here." Misha sad, and gently placed his arm around my waist.
He pulled me along, having to practically drag me through the doors and corridors.
"Come on, we've got to get to the Hall!"
With a very, very hesitant sigh, I finally resisted the temptation to stand here for thousands of more hours and followed Misha.
And let me say, I was not upset that I did. The great Georgian Hall was simply stunning!
The walls were made of the same pure-white color as the gentle snowflakes that were falling outside the windows. The high ceilings arched above us and the designs carved into them were the most beautiful. Michaelangelo's carvings themselves could only be better than this. And that was debatable, still.
Large, bright chandeliers hung down and their light illuminated the golden floors, lighting up the room brighter than if the sun were to be installed. Columns, carved with the same skill and elegance as the ceilings, perfectly lined the room, and statues stood upon them proud and strong.
A red stripe was painted across both edges of the room, accenting the place perfectly. The patterns were drawn with an old Russian design that perfectly described the atmosphere and culture of the country.
I gleamed with happiness (or from the large, exquisite chandeliers) and looked up at Misha.
He also seemed to be glowing with something and then slowly extended a hand to me. I placed my hand in his in a blink of the eye and then we were on the dance floor.
The music was just as marvelous as the Kremlin Palace itself.
I knew that something very important and quite dangerous would probably be going down here tonight, but I didn't care. I was going to enjoy myself to the fullest.
I couldn't possibly imagine that I was here, at Kremlin, dancing at a ball!
And Misha seemed to be enjoying the evening as well. He was a good dancer, he didn't get in the way, but he also didn't lead more than he was supposed to. He also didn't bump into 'our' baby 'girl' and that was definitely very appreciated.
We whirled and whirled around. Or maybe we twirled. Or waltzed. Honestly, I didn't know. I wasn't a dance expert either. I was a mathematician and an engineer and a nurse.
We kept up perfectly to the music. Every single note was in tune with our movements and the chords were practically playing through our blood. Yes, I loved the music.
And I loved the Palace. I loved everything.
"You look too happy, Miss Parfenova."
At first, I didn't realize he meant me, but then I remembered.
I smiled. I didn't have to fake it though. "I love this. All of this."
I decided that I didn't need to explain to Misha that I didn't love that I didn't know who my husband was anymore, or that I had to pretend that I was impregnated from him since he would probably know that already. Not to mention it would give away our disguise."
With a touch of courage, or maybe a touch of just himself, he leaned and kissed me softly on the cheek.
I wasn't exactly expecting it, but I didn't mind. Or cared.
"Let's take a break, shall we?"
He led me off the dance floor so I could catch my breath. That was probably smart. My baby was starting to really make me tired, and I didn't have the strength I once had.
'It's okay baby. I forgive you.' I quietly mumbled to myself.
We walked through the crowded hall and greeted the guests. I was introduced to many people and they would all ask me questions about the baby.
Misha would stay quiet and let me do the improvising, which I was very thankful for.
I trusted Misha, but sometimes, it was better if he didn't say something ridiculous, which I'm sure he would.
The men would talk about politics and money and I would keep an ear out for important phrases and words, but unfortunately, I didn't hear any.
I mostly just gossiped with the women. Well, I did the listening and they did the gossiping. And it wasn't really gossiping, it was more of stories that they had to say about others and about themselves. These women weren't bad, and I actually enjoyed their company.
Finally, we greeted as many people as we could handle, and then Misha led me back to the dance floor. We danced some more. Then we talked some more. Then we danced, and then we talked. It went on like that for a good while.
This is what it must be like to be very well liked. I could tell that Misha was liked; every man in the room would show him respect and honor, and every lady would smile gently.
He radiated this friendly power that drew people to him, instead of away. But he wouldn't draw crowds like a popular jock. Instead, he would draw respect and manners and elegance.
I would admire the way he handled himself with any guest.
It would even sometimes shock me that he wasn't the one living in this Palace, and these weren't actually his guests. I admired him and respected him, much more throughout the night.
There were many people, and I knew we wouldn't get to all of them. Besides, many were leaving and entering all the time, so it was hard to keep track of who visited and who we didn't.
"We should be going soon, my love. I don't want you to get too tired."
I smiled. "Thank you, I didn't even notice how tired I had become. The night was truly wonderful."
He gave me a smile. Small, but his eyes lighted up. "Of course. I enjoyed myself as well."
"Mikael. Could I please have a word?"
He quickly turned around. "Of course, Antonin Dimitrievich! How is your Anna doing?"
I looked at him. Why did people love him so much?
While I was busy studying him, someone accidentally bumped into me. I turned around but there was no one there.
I noticed a single piece of paper on the ground. It wouldn't hurt to take a look, right?
Looking around, I quickly bent over and picked it up.
I turned over the sheet of paper and my face paled. It read:
Miss Katerina Parfenova,
I need your help.
Alexander Vasiliev.