Later that week, Yuri trekked down to the shore once again. The journey seemed to be getting more strenuous every time he made it, and he had to lean against the rock face when he got to the beach in order to steady his spinning vision. The cliffs were angled so that the farther down the beach from where Yuri was standing, the higher the waves crashed at the shore. When the tide was all the way in, the far end of the precipice was half-way submerged underwater. At the moment, however, the tide was all the way out. A section of gravelly sand skirted the base of the bluffs.
He picked his way along it, watching out for rocks plummeting down the cliffs from above. He went quite a long way, but couldn't see any variations in the craggy wall. Just when he was about to give up, he noticed an out-of-place, massive boulder. It seemed like it had been strategically placed there, not like it had fallen down. It was nestled underneath an overhang. Mustering every ounce of strength that he had, Yuri pulled it aside. It was certainly not an easy task, considering how frail he had become. Inch by inch the huge stone shifted, making a grating sound against the sand. Finally it was out of the way, and the yawning cave that it had been blocking was revealed.
Quietly, Yuri ventured in. He had to duck down to clear the ceiling, he himself being nearly six feet tall. He squinted in the darkness, and could make out a steep set of stairs that curved around a corner and out of sight. Beyond it, he could see the flicker of firelight. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this was the right place.
Yuri stepped back into the daylight and pushed the rock back in front of the entrance. He would return, once he got an opportunity to leave the palace for a long time without notice. Heart pounding in his rib cage (from fear or excitement, he wasn't sure), he started the arduous hike back up to the castle.
The perfect night to go and see Yakov presented itself. That evening, a ball was to be hosted at the palace. Almost everyone in the entire noble court was to be present, and the party would be the perfect distraction for Yuri to slip away unnoticed. The servants began setting up before dawn, arranging ostentatious flower displays to drape over feasting tables. A rainbow of gossamer silk banners stretched over the ballroom ceiling, shimmering in the firelight. All of the doorknobs and hinges shone, and the marble floor had been polished until it was as reflective as a mirror. Huge torches rested in silver sconces along the hallways, illuminating the massive paintings hanging on the walls.
They were mostly portraits of the royal Plisetsky family, of whom only Nikolai and Yuri remained. Most of the people featured in the pictures looked rather grumpy. Yuri often wondered if that was simply due to the fact that they'd had to remain still for hours or if it was a hereditary trait.
Guests began to trickle in, wearing their finest clothing. One by one, they approached the thrones where Yuri and his grandfather were sitting. They would bow or curtsy, and both royals would dip their heads respectfully. Yuri began to develop a sharp ache in his stiff neck.
Finally, all of the company had been acknowledged.
The music began, and hired dancers emerged through the grand main doors to entertain the guests. They wore vivid red accents, a symbol of beauty.
Nikolai leaned in to Yuri. "Why don't you go and sit closer to see better?" His worried, tired eyes were pleading. Yuri knew that his grandfather was desperate to see him happy. For his sake, Yuri would move to watch with the audience. Once the music stopped, he reluctantly stood and went down the steps. Each movement felt jarring on his skull. Everyone looked up to stare at the strange boy who didn't resemble a proper prince with his freckles and frail body. He shot a few glares into the crowd and plopped down onto a velvet chair beside the dance floor.
While the dancing was beautiful, Yuri wasn't really impressed. He had seen this very routine on many occasions, and it was no different this time. The dance began slowly, with the men and women whirling around each other. They waved their fine scarves and kicked their feet.
Without warning, his head began to spin and his vision became blurry. He felt as if he was about to faint. The bright colors of the performers' clothing blended together in a nauseating display. The end of the song couldn't come soon enough. When it eventually did, he slipped through the crowd and staggered up to his grandfather. He kept stumbling over his own feet, and black spots dotted his sight.
Once he got back to Nikolai, he whispered that he wasn't feeling well and was going to retire for the night. His grandfather gently kissed his forehead and took his hand. Yuri squeezed the rough, familiar hand weakly, then left through a less-trafficked exit. Thankfully, he didn't garner much attention, and managed to struggle up all of the flights of stairs to his room. Once he got there, he collapsed onto his bed.
Somehow, Yuri was going to have to gather up enough strength to make the journey down to the beach. Fearful of falling asleep and not waking up in time, he was careful not to let his eyes drift closed for too long. He had to wait until midnight, because that would leave him a large enough window to travel down to the shore before the tide started coming back in.
Yuri found that petting his kitty was a welcome distraction. Potya nuzzled into him and was a warm, comforting weight on his chest.
When the clock struck a quarter to twelve, he rose. It took a concentrated effort, considering that his limbs felt like lead. Potya mrowed in disgruntlement when he was forced to move. Yuri picked him up and pressed a kiss into his fur. Setting him down, he began to take off his elaborate outfit and put on something more practical. He pulled on leather boots with good traction, and wrapped his warmest cloak around his shoulders.
Hands shaking, Yuri scrawled a note and left it folded on his bed. It said to take care of his cat if he didn't come back, and a goodbye and apology to his grandfather if he never was to see him again. He described his strife, giving details about what had happened that fateful night and how he was still haunted.
'Never forget how dearly I love you, Grandfather. -Yuratchka.'
Before he left the room, Yuri took a moment to look around it. The place that he had grown up. His home. Because he was unsure if he would ever see it again, he tried to memorize every detail. Taking in a deep breath, he snugly put on his fur cap and braced himself for whatever lied ahead of him.