It was a cold day in Petrograd, a sliver of sunlight slipped through the over-cast skies, and glistened off the gold-rimmed panel of the palace window. This particular window looked into the room of one very infamous Grigori Rasputin. Now, there was not much to do in the palace as of late; the Tsar had gone to fight on the front lines, and the Tsarina was wrapped up in her aristocratic and socialistic parties. Greg was bored, well at least he was as bored as an insane, daemon-possessed monk could be. He decided to venture outside the grand Winter Palace, and into the hustle and bustle of the city beyond.

Coincidentally, he had had an invite that very morning from an anonymous being, asking him to join them for dinner. This was the perfect opportunaty to get away from the palace for a while. Going against his better judgement, angry that Alexandra had made other plans, his thoughts had become irrational and he was prepared to do anything- be it dining with strangers, or wrestling crocodiles- as long as it kept him entertained.

Grigori was a man of particular taste. He had dark, brooding eyes, that seemed to stare into the very depths of your soul. His hair was as black as a clear dark night, black as coal. His beard was corse, like a badgers fur. He had thick, bushy eyebrows, almost obsuring his obsidian eyes. He usually wore a decorative dark blue tunic, over black hose, and a black velvet cloak. On his feet he wore soft, black leather boots.

If you were to walk in on Rasputin now, you would find him washing his long, luxurious, crow-black mane. Making sure to dry and plaite his hair carefully, he walked over to the gigantic dressing room and posed infront of the wall-sized mirror, which stood at the end of the room. He wanted to make sure he looked good for his mystery date.

Walking down the palace steps, he felt his pulse quicken, his heart thumping in his chest. He usually wasn't so nervous, but today he knew why. He had been hoping since he received the note that his seceret admirer was the Tsars second cousin Felix Yusapov. Even though Rasputin knew it was sinning, he just couldn't help himself. He had heard that Yusapov had a really big book collection, and wanted to see for himself if the rumours were true...