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“We’d better go” Tension flows into the set of his shoulders “We can’t be late I want to get to the venue before everyone else”

Right Because it’s dangerous to go outside

My stomach muscles knit into a ball when he leads me to the foyer where Lena waits with our coats andcoat before pulling on a stylish jacket and his own coat Steeringin the driveway As usual, Yuri drives

We make our way to the old center of the city in a convoy of cars Alex wears an earpiece and constantly co his phone After forty minutes, we arrive at a roadblock Yuri lowers hisand says so to the ate lifts

My stoear armed with rifles who are lined up on either side of the road It’s as if we’re entering a war zone At the end of the block, we arrive at a stately building with colu softly The flakes are illu from the impressive façade of the former palace that has been turned into a hotel Lena proudly told me that the venue had been the residence of Princess Lobanova-Rostovskaya in 1820

We enter a heavily guarded underground parking garage From there, an elevator with a thuuards follow us to the hall, staying no more than a step behind Alex hands in our coats at the coat roo me close to him

As we’re the first to arrive, the hall is euests Round tables are set with brocade tablecloths and gold-trilasses and golden cutlery, while others are aligning the place settings The centerpieces are flower arrangements of white lilies and peonies that perfume the hall with their sweet scents The flowers must’ve been cultivated in hothouses or flown in froion for the occasion

When Alex has done a round of the room with me in tow, he leads me to our table and seats me

“Chane?” he asks as a waiter appears with a bottle

“Thank you,” I say, nodding at the waiter

Not long after, the guests start arriving Within eous dresses andmy hand under the table, but he’s still busy on his phone, talking in rapid Russian I don’t

The first guests to join our table are an elderly lady with a red sequined gown and a gentleman with a silver waistcoat and bowtie Alex introduces them to me as the Dyatlovs

Mrs Dyatlova tells lish is impeccable, which she attributes to the years she studied in England Mr Dyatlov, on the other hand, has to rely on his wife’s translations to follow our conversation and soon gives up, launching into a discussion with Alex in Russian instead

The next invitees to arrive are a couple who look to be in their early forties Mrs Feba Zykova is a lively woman who explains that she owns a textile factory, while the subdued Mr Zykov is in the import and export business What kind of import and export, his wife doesn’t say, and he doesn’t seelish either Alex no doubt lish, a consideration I’rateful for