~ Heine ~
The carriage ride was a noisy one, and it's somehow almost impressive that Dr. Dmitri is the one making almost all the noise. It feels like a party of ten people. I rest my elbow on the window, and watch the violet and gold of the evening spin by to a rowdy backdrop of conversation and laughter. I'm almost surprised that Bruno likes him so much. Is this one of those instances of "opposites attract?"
'Well, I'm afraid our cook is from Orosz,' Dr. Dmitri says by way of apology. 'Have you tried the cuisine yet?'
Bruno smiles, 'I haven't had the pleasure.'
Dr Dmitri laughs heartily. 'Ада, they teach royals how to lie well. Our country's food can be ghastly for the most part, but we'll try to give you a good first impression.'
I watch their banter from the other side of the carriage. Smerdyakov sits beside me. His wide shoulders and bulk take up most of the room. 'So.' I say. I glance up at him, and I have to glance quite a ways up. 'Are you really one of Dr. Dmitri's students?'
Smerdyakov cuts me a sharp look. 'Yes, prying little tutor.'
I shut up. Obviously the shared ground we have isn't enough to compel him to jeopardise his position.
'Ah.' Dr. Dmitri waves an open hand out the window and a passing carriage nearly takes it off. 'Here we are.'
I lean forward and look for myself. A surprisingly large townhouse — well-situated in the streets near the university. I wonder if he has it kept it up in his absence or if he rents it out. Despite his scattered demeanour, I have the feeling that Dr. Dmitri is more well off than he likes to let on.
The carriage lets us out at the steps to the front door and we hurry inside out of the cold.
Strongly-scented wax candles drip in their wall sconces, against velvety green wallpaper. A maid takes our coats. It's deliciously warm. It seems that there are servants who have been busy in our absence: a roaring fire burns in the smoking room, and plates and sparkling crystal glasses have been laid out in the dining room. The servants are already serving the food, punctual as clockwork.
'Please, sit!' Dr. Dimitri pulls out the chair at the other end of the table. 'You're meant to seat royalty at the head of the table, from what I can recall?'
Bruno laughs, and slides into the seat. 'I don't mind.'
We take our seats. The servants pour us drinks, and bring in silver cloches. I don't take a drink, and neither does Smerdyakov. And obviously, neither does Bruno.
When Bruno waves away a glass of wine, Dr. Dimitri comments, swirling the wine in his own glass. 'How old are you again, Bruno? Seventeen?'
'Sixteen,' Bruno says. He sips a spoonful of crimson soup — borscht, an Orosz specialty. 'My brother is seventeen.'
'Ah, yes. Prince Kai, right? The tall white and brooding one.'
Bruno coughs, and chuckles. 'Well… that's one way of putting it.'
I eat while Bruno and Dr. Dmitri talk. Smerdyakov also doesn't speak. Both of us are content to just listen. I wonder if my message has reached Viktor yet. I set my cutlery in my empty bowl. The sight of a lone messenger probably gave Viktor a heart attack, but there wasn't any other way to convey my news at the time. I imagine he'd telegram his panic if he were able. Or come to think of it —
A shrill ringing erupts in the hall, and we all jump.
'Is that a telephone?' I ask.
'Yes, quite,' Dr. Dimitri says, getting up with a clatter. 'A friend of mine from overseas — a scientist fellow — pushed one on me last time I saw him. Frankly I think it's a nuisance, but I suppose in time we won't be able to live without them. Plugging the ruddy things straight into our brains, probably,' he grumbles, and ducks out of the room.
I make to excuse myself from the table, but Dr. Dmitri leans back around the doorframe. 'Ah, Wittgenstein, if you'd come here for a tick. It's the king?'
I run over. 'Your Majesty — '
'Heine! Is Bruno all right? Are you all right? What happened?!'
I wince, and hold the phone away from my ear. 'Would you please calm yourself? Didn't you get the handwritten report I sent you?'
'Well, yes, but…'
I sigh, and smile briefly. I figured he would do something like this. Although I was more expecting it to be by telegram. 'Stop fretting. Prince Bruno is fine. He got off without a scratch.'
'…All right. I'm sending armed guards to Dr. Dimitri's house. I don't want to take any risks.'
'Perhaps ask his permission?' Dr. Dimitri waves a hand and nods. I turn back to the earpiece. 'Besides, how do you have his phone number?'
'I rang to thank him for the time he spent with Bruno earlier this year.' Static flares up in bursts. 'I have to go — I'm sitting out of a meeting of state to call you as it is.'
The earpiece clicks. I pass it back to Dr. Dimitri.
'You seem to be on rather close terms with the king.'
'…We merely have an acquaintance due to my job.'
'Which job? Teaching or bodyguard work?'
I instinctively shift and keep my eyes on him, before forcing myself to stop raising my hackles like a startled cat. '…I imagine you would be able to tell, especially if you have your own bodyguard.' Dr. Dmitri says nothing.
'Is Smerdyakov really your bodyguard?'
Dr. Dmitri heaves a sigh. 'Yes. I suppose my prying was asking for questions in return.'
Dr. Dmitri leans against the wall, and crosses one boot over the other. 'Yes, he is, but he's also my student. He's from Orosz, like myself. There have been some… unpleasant things happening in Orosz. Namely due to the rise of the Marxist regime. Smerdyakov was caught up in it and eventually he couldn't take anymore, so he turned to the path of a scholar and begged me to teach him. It was as though he wanted to undo all the damage done to his mind. He's an excellent student, too. He even left his family's business for the profession.
'It was only later — when I was having some personal difficulties — that he offered me his services as a casual arrangement.'
Smerdyakov and Bruno pass us, talking, and disappear into another room. The candlelight casts Smerdyakov in chiselled shadow. 'Brave,' Dr. Dmitri says. 'To go back to that way of life by choice.'
Indeed.
'Well, I think Smerdyakov and Bruno have retired to the smoking room. Care to join them?'
'As you wish. I don't smoke, however.'
'Neither do I. Silly name for the room then, isn't it?'
To be continued…
