Getting Advice

[Fydor Romanov]

"Casa Abuelita," I repeated to myself, making a mental note. "I shall send her an invitation then. Better than her house probably?" I asked, hoping he would approve of my logic.

[Alexei Romanov]

“Yes, definitely,” I agreed, nodding. “It’s a quite place but still public enough to ward of that certain awkwardness her house might give rise to.”

It was nice, being able to be a brother like this to Fydor. “You should bring her a gift too, something from home. Nothing too fancy, but purely Ruskovian. It will help her think of you when you’re not around.”

[Fydor Romanov]

I nodded, thinking on it as my brow furrowed. I wondered what I could give her that she would like. Perhaps a matryoshka set... Alexei was right, I needed to find out what she was interested in, what sort of gifts she would look more favourably upon.

Everything that had seemed so natural when I was with her, suddenly seemed a million times more complicated. "It didn't seem this difficult when I was with her," I confessed.

[Alexei Romanov]

Rising, I went around the desk and patted Fydor on the shoulder. “Welcome to the world of women,” I said, grinning.

[Fydor Romanov]

I laughed, if only for the grin on his face. "Can't live without them," I replied, paraphrasing the ancient saying. "Wouldn't want to. I'll put up with a little uncertainty on my part if needed."

[Alexei Romanov]

“Let’s hope it’s just a little,” I said, chuckling.

“Come, have a drink and we’ll toast your luck in courtship,” I said, rising and going to the sideboard.

[Fydor Romanov]

I chuckled as well, though I was fervently hoping his words turned out to be true. I rose and followed him. "I think I might need a drink for this one."

[Alexei Romanov]

“I think you may need several before it’s all over,” I said, pouring us each a shot of vodka. I handed him one.

“To luck in love, may the gods smile down on your endeavors,” I said, holding up my glass in toast.

[Fydor Romanov]

"Hopefully I'll be as lucky as you." I toasted him and drank it back, the liquor burning a sweet path down to my stomach.

[Alexei Romanov]

“I do wish you luck, brother,” I said, smiling after I’d drank down my shot. “So, when do I get to meet her?”

[Fydor Romanov]

I laughed. "Soon I hope. I'd love to introduce her to everyone, though perhaps a couple at a time. We can be a lot to take," I replied with a grin, feeling better for his obvious vote of confidence.

[Alexei Romanov]

“Yes, we can,” I agreed, grinning. “You might want to save Olga for last.”

[Fydor Romanov]

I laughed again. "That's rather uncharitable big brother," I teased him with a grin. "I think Olga will like her. Well, I hope so anyway."

[Alexei Romanov]

“Olga may love her, but I don’t think our sister will react well to the thought of your head being turned so quickly,” I said practically.

[Fydor Romanov]

I sobered a little. "I think you might be right. At least you didn't think me a half-wit."

[Alexei Romanov]

“You’re no more of a half-wit than I am,” I said, chuckling. “I am well aware of the allure of the women of this country.”

[Fydor Romanov]

"Olga didn't tell you off for falling for the Queen did she?" I asked a bit aghast.

[Alexei Romanov]

“Oh no,” I assured him. “I was just thinking of how quickly Sabrina bewitched me.”

[Fydor Romanov]

I chuckled a bit in relief. "You scared me there for a moment. I mean, if our sister was critical of your match, I wouldn't have a thread of hope."

[Alexei Romanov]

“No worries, there little brother,” I said, clapping him on the arm and smiling.

[Fydor Romanov]

I chuckled again. "Well thank you for your help. I'm going to go and pen a letter to Lessa, invite her to dinner at the Casa Abuelita. Would you excuse me?"

[Alexei Romanov]

“Of course,” I said, smiling. “Good luck.”

[Fydor Romanov]

"Thanks," I said again, but it did need repeating. I had a game plan now, at least enough that I could muddle through. I closed the door behind me softly, and headed back to my own room.

[Alexei Romanov]

I sighed when he left, sending prayer to gods local and far away at home to watch over Fydor and not let him get hurt.

[Fydor Romanov]

I laboured over the letter for far too long, but I wanted it to be perfect. I didn’t bother with ink and parchment at the beginning, I started with chalk and a blackboard. I might not be able to speak D’Angeline without sounding like a fool, but given enough time and I could at least write something that wasn’t peppered with word misuse and grammatical errors. Finally I wrote out my final copy, sealed it, and went to send it off, finding that I had missed dinner. I hoped it was worth it.