Erik found himself a harpsichord alarmingly fast after that night; so fast, in fact, that Alina was willing to bet he had one already picked out and had been pining over it for a while before he asked her about it, because it was barely over a week later that it arrived. The delivery men left it in a box in front of their house as Erik asked them not to come inside, and so he and Jack had to carry it inside by themselves. Jack didn't mind- he was hoping to see Amelija again, but too proud to reach out to her; this was a welcome excuse to hang around without admitting anything. Yana watched them with curiosity from her window, propped up on her elbows. With the shawl over her hair, she looked like an old granny that specialized in spying on her neighbors.

"What you have there?" she asked. "рояль?" the last time she saw one was on the ship to America; she was dying to hear what kind of new noise would start coming from her neighbors' house now.

"Close, but smaller and with two keyboards. клавесин", Erik replied as he looked behind him not to scratch the box it was in against the doorframe. "Do you want to take a look?"

"Sure, I'll come by in a minute. You'll share your new toy with Piotr?"

"Of course. As long as he behaves", Erik's voice sounded from inside the house. "Lift it a little, Jack."

"I'm trying to", he groaned. "It's hard to grip it properly."

"Where's your upper body strength? Didn't you say you used to fight?"

"Yes, and I will gladly prove it to you if you keep messing with me-"

"Over there", Erik shook his head at the empty corner of the room. "Just lower it gently."

They managed to push it neatly to the corner, and Erik took it out of the box and set the body on the legs as Jack watched, unsure if his help was still needed. Then, Erik brought in the stool as well and set it carefully in front of the harpsichord. It was a small one, but it still looked big in their little house; Alina had helped him carefully rearrange things in the small room so that it would fit - and it did, although it took them most of the night. The sides of the harpsichord had ornate wooden inlays and the lid was carefully painted in swirling geometrical patterns of muted blue and gold. Erik couldn't imagine who in the world managed to get the exact shade of blue paint to match well with the brown wood, but the result was magnificent.

"Okay. Do you need anything else?" Jack asked, turning around. Alina and Amelija seemed nowhere in sight, and he wasn't going to just wait around pathetically until they came back.

Erik turned to face him with a very childish smile plastered across his masked face. "It's very beautiful, isn't it?"

"I suppose", Jack shrugged, unsure what was going on. "I mean, it is fairly cute. Like a shrunk-down piano."

Erik pulled the lid up. "It's not a piano! And it has two manual keyboards!"

"I see", Jack rubbed his chin. "I should have guessed just one wouldn't be enough for you."

"The little chair is painted in matching colors!" he pointed out. "It's not very noticeable, but I prefer it this way. I think it's very subtle, and Alina is sure to like it." He tapped his fingers against the keys, making a few tentative sounds. "The timbre of the sound is so sweet, too, very baroque. I like when they have that buzzing sound, it adds character. It has a lute stop! It can sound like a lute, if you press this button!"

"What is going on?" Jack scratched his head. "Is this the first time you see a piano?"

"Not a piano!" Erik clasped his hands together in joy. "But this is the first time I've bought an instrument with my own money, for myself, and put it in my house!"

"Oh", Jack managed. "Oh, I see." he couldn't remember seeing Erik so happy before; as a matter of fact, he couldn't remember seeing such innocent joy in someone's eyes since he was a kid.

"It's perfect! Look at it!" Erik waved his hand at the harpsichord. "Such a perfect little… thing!"

"It's positively endearing", Jack agreed politely. "That's a big milestone you've hit, then."

"A big what?" Erik barely tore his eyes away from the little not-piano.

"Milestone. As in, a big life event. Meaningful."

"Oh, yes. Now that you said it, yes I think so." he scratched at his temple. "I'm not sure what to do with that fact. I mean, it's exciting, yes."

"Isn't your birthday soon as well?"

"My birthday is a date you randomly picked so that my documents wouldn't be incomplete", Erik pointed out. "I've no idea why you thought I was born in July, but I don't really care either way."

"It was your sunny disposition."

"Ah, that one. Alright. How could I possibly forget."

"In any case", Jack shrugged, "it's your twenty-ninth birthday, and you've bought yourself a gift. Congratulations. You have your own house, a great woman, and now a harpsichord to finish the symphony you might soon see performed. You're doing something right."

Erik stood there wordlessly, obviously uneasy.

"I- I suppose it all happened gradually and I never noticed it", he managed. "I, um. I don't know what to say." he actually had plenty of things to say and plenty of feelings, but they weren't something he'd just unleash in front of Jack, normally.

Jack shrugged. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"And you actually made all of it possible, didn't you?" Erik asked. "Have I ever even thanked you?"

"For helping you move a piano? Don't worry, that's a very common thing for friends to do, although it usually involves furniture and not pianos."

"This isn't a piano, either."

"Sure. It just looks like a piano and sounds like a piano."

"Listen to me", Erik clasped his hands again like in a prayer. "It absolutely does not sound like a piano. Secondly, I actually wanted to thank you for other things. It's because of you that we were able to build that park, it's because of you that I might become a full citizen and it's because of you that I met Heidel - and I just, well, thank you, really."

"No problem", Jack waved his hand. "It's what friends do, like I said." Erik looked at him for a second, unsure what else to say - words seemed very lacking, and what's more, Jack didn't seem like he really enjoyed melodramatic gestures of gratitude.

"In any case", Erik continued, "I've thought about what you asked - I'll try to arrange it so that you can see Amelija. Although, she's really a handful so you might want to reconsider that."

"I already have", Jack lied smoothly, looking at the harpsichord. "I might have spoken too soon. I'm not really that interested. Well, are you going to play this not-a-piano at all? Or do we need a drink first?"

ooo

"Hey, Jack!" Alina waved with feigned innocence as she walked down the street from the post office to her house with Amelija by her side. Jack pretended to have just noticed them, then crossed the street and approached, tipping his hat.

"Are you leaving already?" she asked. "How come?"

"You brave dragon-knight added a small not-a-piano to his hoard", he nodded in the direction of their house. "A harpsichord, but it's really funny when you call it a piano in front of him and he has to compulsively correct you. Anyway, we had a drink to celebrate, but I left because he said he has a lot of work to do before he sees Heidel again. I thought he might want to be alone."

"Alone alone?"

"No, I think he might want you to be there. He's processing some things."

"Alright", Alina turned to her sister. "Um-"

"I'll find a way to entertain myself", she gave her a slightly sour smile. Amelija and Jack had not even looked at each other directly since the conversation started - but Amelija couldn't help but notice his wavy hair was a little less messy than usual, and his suit neatly pressed. She wondered if he was seeing someone important.

"Absolutely not. Jack", Alina announced in a fake-commanding tone, "as my friend, you absolutely must keep my sister company. It would be completely barbaric of us all if we just left our guest, my own blood, on her own in a foreign country." she was talking loudly enough to be heard by other people in the street (which there weren't many of, and they didn't seem interested at all, but it still unnerved Amelija).

"Alina-" Amelija warned.

"Amelija, as your older sister, I must ask you to be quiet. I know you're an honest woman, and I know how you hate being lonely, so don't be so coy! Jack is a man of great character, and I trust him fully to watch over you for the next few hours. Now, if you will excuse me, my darling is waiting", she curtsied very elegantly and hurried off.

You goddamn manipulative bitch, Amelija fumed as she turned to Jack, whose sour expression mirrored her own.

"Miss, I have no idea what your sister is cooking up, but you seem absolutely capable of looking after yourself. I know you're not a teenage girl who needs a chaperone- you're free to go wherever you please, and if you really want, I can tell Alina I went with you." Jack put his hands in his pockets as he rambled, but didn't budge to leave.

Amelija narrowed her eyes at him, unable to discern if he was mocking her, dismissing her, or trying to be helpful. "Excuse me?"

"Well, you're an adult. Don't let them pressure you into anything." Jack shrugged. He was still standing in his spot, unmoving, with his hands in his pockets.

"How very kind of you", Amelija bared her teeth in what looked like a smile but was definitely nothing of the sort.

Jack shrugged. "Later, then. Have fun." he finally turned around on his heel and started walking away.

"Actually", Amelija called after him and he immediately stopped. "I have a question."

"Yes?" he turned back in one very swift motion, his hands behind his back.

"I need to get myself some new books", she explained. "Do you happen to know a good bookstore, or a public library nearby?"

"What kind of books?" he scratched his chin.

"Non-fiction. I need books on mathematics and physics." she lifted her chin, waiting for his comment, and sure enough-

"Oh, wow. For yourself?" he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Yes", she purred. "What of it?"

"Hmm", he decided that question would be better left unanswered. "I know bookstores nearby, but I've never really looked for that sort of books. They're not really my favourite reading material."

"Well, it's worth trying", Amelija concluded. "Where?"

"There's one two blocks away from my house", he pointed. "That way. I'm going there as well, I can show you."

"Alright, thank you", she smiled politely and followed next to him.

Followed next to him in uncomfortable, apologetic silence, that is. Amelija wondered when she lost her ability to charm and talk people into getting over conflicts smoothly; she had a feeling it wouldn't work on this man, and was feeling slightly lost.

"I don't mean to be rude", Jack finally broke, "but I'm terribly curious. Why are you studying the most boring, gruelling subjects on your vacation?"

"Well, first of all, they are neither boring nor hard to me personally. Secondly, Alina asked me to check Walter's progress here and there because he's getting to a level that's hard for her to follow, seeing as she has other work to do", she sighed. "Besides, it's not like I'm terribly occupied. I don't really go out much here without Alina - I only know her friends, and they all have very particular ideas of fun. I haven't really gotten many party invitations since I've arrived", she chuckled. "Maybe when Nikola arrives, our cousin, he might nudge her to go out into society a little more."

"Good luck with that", Jack commented. "I've tried inviting them both over a few times when I had other guests - a party of sorts - but neither of them wanted to come. Alina's quite chirpy around other people these days, but surprisingly, she just doesn't like parties."

"I think Alina sometimes avoids places where she's supposed to have fun", Amelija giggled. "She prefers fun that's forbidden. She's always been like that. She once told me that the pressure of having fun takes all the fun out of it."

"And you?" Jack turned to her.

"Oh, I like all kinds of fun. You never know. It always surprises me."

"Right. Noted", Jack smiled and opened his mouth as if he wanted to add something, then changed his mind. "This bookstore I told you about, it's over there."

ooo

"Hello, darling", Alina entered the house to see Erik already sitting by the harpsichord, playing something she vaguely recognized. She went up to him to read the title on the sheet music. "Is that Bach?"

"Yes, these are some etudes for practice." he replied without stopping. "And the Goldberg Variations for later."

"I think I actually played some of these as a child. Well, not this one, it's quite difficult", she remarked. "Sorry, I'll let you finish."

Erik nodded, mumbled a word of thanks and continued playing. He went through the etudes carefully and methodically - yes, they were mostly mind-numbingly boring, but that was intentional. He let his mind wander, focusing only on how his fingers felt against the keys; the occasional unwanted twitch over otherwise smooth motions that betrayed his lack of practice in the recent years. It was almost meditative, playing something so easy he knew it by heart, and there was something very soothing to it. This is alright, they seemed to say. You're struggling, but it's alright to struggle. Your fingers are like wooden sticks and you're making mistakes, but you already did this once, as a child - and you succeeded; you will succeed again. There is no emotional stake if you mess this up - it's just a playground to practice on. The real world will wait until you're finished.

When he stopped and turned to Alina, she was curled up comfortably in her armchair.

"Lovely", she said. "How come you're playing etudes?"

"I tried playing some things I played back in Paris, but it wasn't good", he shook his head. "It sounded nothing like before. Apparently, I'm out of practice. My fingers need to adjust to keyboards. So I started with something easier - I'm sorry, you might have to listen to some boring music for a while, until I get back to how I was."

"It sounds to me like they're adjusting rather quickly", she said. "You're aware that most people can't hear the difference, right?"

"Not most people, but Heidel will", he said. "I'd like to write some of the symphony as a piano score so I can play it when I go to him again. I think he'll understand it better when he hears it." he paused. "Anyway, do you like it?"

Alina obediently got up to take a good look at the harpsichord. "Oh my god." she covered her hands with her mouth.

"Yes?"

"This has got to be the cutest thing I have ever laid my eyes on", she turned around to look at it from all sides. "Oh my god. It's so colorful. It's like a tiny little -"

"If you say piano, I'm taking it back."

"Tiny little harpsichord, I know, it just looks like- khm." she bit down a laugh. "It's adorable, I love it! And it sounds so sweet!"

"Right?" his face lit up. "And the keys are so light when you press on them - it's incredibly delicate! Do you want to try it?"

"Well, I might." Alina sat down next to him. She was slightly self-conscious; she knew she wasn't a musician by any standards, but Erik just smiled and nodded at her.

"Go ahead, play whatever you wish, just to try it out."

She played a simple little lullaby they taught her as a child, and he was right - the keys were light, and the sound it produced was sweet, quieter but slightly sharper than a piano would sound.

"Oh my god even the keys are adorable-" she put her hands on her cheeks again.

"-yes, and there's-"

"Two keyboards!" she laughed. "Wasn't one enough?"

"Well, technically", he shrugged, looking somewhat guilty. "Technically it would be enough, yes. They aren't necessary, but I found it fascinating - look, if you push this lever, you can play one key, and the one above it is pressed automatically. If you pull it, then all the keys are pressed separately, so you have more control and range." he shrugged. "I was originally considering a small vertical piano. It would fit inside the house better, and it's more practical. I admit, I saw this and let it get the better of me. It was a completely impulsive decision."

"Oh, but if you had passed by this thing without buying it, I would never have forgiven you!" she laughed. "Look at it! It's perfect! You're allowed to have one ridiculously perfect thing for yourself, for god's sake!"

"Just one? Then I'm over my quota now", he smiled. "You're also in this house."

"Well, then I might have to go. It would be a crime to stand between you and this adorable little pia-" her voice got suddenly muffled by Erik's hand on her mouth, as he wrapped his other arm around her, hugging her to him tightly.

"Listen", he whispered confidentially, smiling with his face only an inch away from hers. "If you finish that word, and the word is piano, I will crumble into ash right in this instant. You're killing me."

Alina batted her eyelashes innocently.

"If I let you go, do you promise not to break my heart like this anymore?" he asked.

Alina nodded. Her mouth was still covered by his hand, but her eyes were wrinkled in an obvious snicker.

"Fine", he slowly lowered his hand from her mouth. His other arm he kept wrapped around her waist.

"Impressive", he remarked after a few seconds of Alina watching him silently, trying her best not to laugh. "I was certain you'd shout "piano" at the top of your lungs immediately."

"I'll mess with you later, don't worry. You look so very happy today", she smiled at him, lifting her hand to trace lightly along his masked cheek with the tips of her fingers.

"I am", he closed his eyes, leaning into her hand. "It has been brought to my attention that I have everything I ever wanted."

"You do?" Alina's fingers moved on to his hair, running through it gently.

"Yes. I've had it all along, but I was worried about losing it so much I forgot to pay attention", he leaned his head toward hers. "You are everything I ever wanted. I loved you when we met and I only had a fraction of my heart left to feel anything, and I love you now with every single new piece you've added to it since."

"Darling", she rested her head against his shoulder, and Erik wrapped his arms more tightly around her. "I love you too, so very much. You will never lose me."

"I wrote that symphony for you", Erik admitted finally, after keeping it inside for months. "I started it last summer, after that- that night. I was trapped at home, trapped in my own head, and I had so many things to say to you, but no way of saying them - and that's how it started. You'll understand once you hear it. I wanted to tell you I loved you, but I was too scared, so I decided I'd one day give you this symphony."

"Your heart is the most precious gift I have in my life", Alina smiled. "But this symphony is the close second."

ooo

"I nearly forgot", after what seemed like an eternity Alina got up to rummage through her little bag, "We stopped by the post office, and some letters arrived. I thought you might be interested."

To my dearest cousin,

I'm continuously amazed how fast yours and Amelija's letters are reaching me in this country. The Yankees' postal service is really something! Yes, I'm still in Pittsburgh. Croatian Federation is treating me like a king; you'll never see a bunch of our people get along so well as when they are among foreigners, especially when someone brings them really good liquor from the homeland. I've made some really good friends, but now I'm eager to get away and into the wilderness. I've lingered close by in case Amelija might want to change her mind and go with me, but it seems that she's quite happy.

Which brings me to my point - I was a bit worried for her, but judging by her letters she's happy with you there, and would like to see you as much as possible before we have to go. It's all the same to me; I have no desire to go back before September. She's made some tentative hints to the fact she'd like to stay, and that you would really be alright with it, and I'm perfectly fine with not dragging her along all across Canada. It's not really her style to be trudging through mud with me in search of endemic species; if you're alright with her being there all summer, so am I.

However, if anything happens and she can't stay with you anymore, send her to the address I've written on the other side of this page. The people in the Croatian Federation will take good care of her if need be, I've made sure of that, but they're not so stuck up that they would watch her every step. She won't be bored at all. I know she doesn't need a chaperone, but I'll be much calmer if she has a place to sleep with people she can count on, wherever that is.

I'm glad Amelija is having fun with you. To be honest, she wasn't quite herself for a while after you left; she kept blaming herself but you'll never hear it from her, so don't mention I said it. Just remember that she does have feelings and loves you very much even though she doesn't really act like it.

I've also got a letter for your darling, and I'd like you to give it directly to him. I know you'll probably read it since you're insufferably nosy, but I don't mind. I just want him to get it, along with my address.

Well, now we've settled that, I hope you're happy as well, in your little wild godless household. Good to see you've finally found a man who can handle you. I'll definitely drop by to visit you after I'm back, and I'd like to meet him as well. He sounds like he's definitely not boring.

Love,

Nikola.

Alina read the whole letter out loud to him, then passed him a small piece of paper.

"Did you read it?" he asked in amusement.

"I may have skimmed it", she rolled her eyes. "Sorry."

To mr. Erik Giry,

As Alina has probably mentioned to you, she and Amelija have asked me to allow for Amelija's visit to continue until we're set to go back to Europe, in September. While they're assuring me they've asked you and you've already given your permission, I'm aware that they can get a bit carried away when they want something. Alina and Amelija have been inseparable since they were little; it makes me very happy to see them together again.

That being said, you're still the head of the house

"Excuse me?" he stopped. "I wasn't aware this house had a head, let alone that it was mine. What is this nonsense?"

"It's just traditionalist pandering", Alina shrugged. "He thinks he has to do it, Nikola really isn't like that when you meet him. But he means well. Read it."

That being said, you're still head of the house and you're also living with them, so out of respect I wanted to ask you directly. It seems to me that Amelija has been very happy with you both, and I'd like to express my gratitude for giving her such a warm welcome. If you're alright with her staying longer, I'm alright with it as well. If not, I've provided an address where she can stay until I'm back from Canada.

I'd also like to wish you all the best. Alina seems to be very happy with you, and I'm looking forward to finally meeting you.

Kind regards,

Nikola pl. Boričević.

"Alright?" Erik frowned at her. "And now?"

"Now you just write him back and tell him if you're alright with her staying or not. There really isn't that much to it."

"If you say so", he scribbled something on the back of the note. "How's this?"

To mr. Nikola pl. Boričević,

She can stay. Just don't forget to pick her up before you leave; we'll wrap her nicely so that you can carry her without fuss.

Erik Giry (head of the house)

Alina looked at the paper for a moment before her shoulders started shaking; she fought a valiant internal battle for a few moments before she burst into uncontrolled laughter.

"Nikola is going to adore you", she wiped the tears from her eyes. "Still, you can't say that in a letter. He can't know if you're joking or not."

"What does he want me to say?" Erik rolled his eyes. "She's not my child, I don't want responsibility for her. She does what she wants."

"Just write something neutral. You can be yourself when you meet him. Nikola really isn't like that, you know - his part of the family is so stuck up, strict and traditional, but he's the black sheep among them. He's a bohemian deep down, and he never really fit in with them; but he always assumes everyone else is like his family and so he writes these really formal letters and always acts unnecessarily posh with people he doesn't know. The three of us always used to cover for each other when there was some mischief - and let me tell you, Nikola is capable of some very much scandalous mischief."

"Hmm", he stood up, folding the paper before he put it in his pocket. "I'll think of something. But I'd like to go to Heidel first - I can't focus on this right now."

"I'm afraid that wouldn't really work", Alina shook her head.

"Why?"

"Nikola wants to leave soon, and you won't be seeing Heidel for another week, so if you send him a letter then it won't reach him on time. And he will either have to stay longer or be worried about it all summer."

Erik sighed with obvious annoyance.

"Correspondence is usually somewhat quicker than writing to Paris from New York", Alina nudged him. "Listen, Nikola is really nice. Just write a simple "yes" or "no" and send it to him."

"Fine. I'll do it tonight."

ooo

Good afternoon. I have a meeting with maestro Heidel.

Good afternoon. I've been invited here for a meeting with maestro Heidel.

Good afternoon. Maestro Heidel is expecting me.

Good afternoon. Is Fritz Heidel here? He told me to meet him here.

Oh, to hell with it.

Erik rehearsed the words over and over again in his head as he walked across midtown Manhattan, until he reached his destination. The Conservatory was a huge building - at least it seemed that way to him, as he looked at it from below. It was actually not that big for New York's standards, and certainly not as intimidating as other institutes devoted to higher musical education that he'd encountered so far. It was actually rather simple and unpretentious.

The National Conservatory of Music was a relatively new institution; founded only ten years ago by a wealthy patroness and radical in its approach to inclusivity and availability. The Conservatory included classes that were available for students without formal education; it awarded scholarships including those meant for women, some minorities and various physically disabled students. Erik, in his rather extensive research of New York's musical venues and schools, found that institutions like this one were quite rare - music was, even in the New World, mostly still a luxury only available to the privileged few - and if he were personally asked to pick one place he would feel comfortable coming to and sharing his own music, it would have probably been this one. Even Alina, having heard of the owner's ardent activism in equality and human rights from the papers, urged him on various occasions to at least consider starting there.

Except he wasn't personally asked. Heidel just happened to work there, having joined after Dvorak left his director's position to go back home to Bohemia, and the Conservatory found itself in dire need of someone to take over the workload before the new director was chosen. Heidel still worked as a conductor in the Philharmonic Orchestra, and this move - which was sure to cost him a great deal of time and not bring forth a lot of monetary reward - was seen as somewhat eccentric.

Erik had never considered himself one of the privileged few that the higher musical circles deemed "worthy" of educating or listening to, and he had over the years made peace with that fact. He was well aware that he, with his brand new name and absolutely no formal education (as well as the certain detail on his head he couldn't ever forget) was not quite welcome among the respectable. He had watched Heidel from afar and while Heidel absolutely had Erik's respect, Erik was quite sure the feeling wouldn't go both ways - that is, until Heidel recently decided to join this new, not-quite-profitable, radical institution and devote a good part of his precious time that used to go to the more respectable Academy to teach students that sometimes joined in almost literally from the street. Erik was not brave enough to guess at Heidel's motivation, and he was not brave enough to announce this, yes, I've found a place that would accept me - but this particular school's blatant disregard for traditional worldviews was so tempting to him that he couldn't just stay away after he was so explicitly, well, literally invited.

He took another deep breath as he adjusted the stack of neatly-bound papers in a hardback folder under his arm.

Maybe Heidel was a different kind of man underneath the pompous condescension, he thought - as students exited the building after a long day of work, he watched them to realize they didn't look like arrogant little rich boys he normally saw in front of the Philharmonic. There were women, yes, there were minorities (although one was very obviously absent), teenagers, and Erik saw in the corner of his eye a young girl in a wheelchair pushed by her father, holding what seemed to be a clarinet case. The two of them chatted among themselves cheerfully, discussing some particularly difficult piece of homework.

Well, they were, it seemed, true to their beliefs.

So maybe they wouldn't reject him for what he was. But there was still the fear that Heidel might reject him because he was simply not that good, and Erik was not entirely ready for that notion. At least being rejected for being strange, disfigured and wild was something he had learned to deal with; rejection because he was simply not good enough was an entirely new feeling he would have to get accustomed to and he was, to put it quite plainly -

I don't think I've ever been this nervous in my life.

He took a deep breath in. His hands were in his pockets, so nobody could really tell how much they were actually shaking. His heart, although close to exploding, was still safely in his chest. His mind, although clouded with fear, could still be persuaded to think. Those three were the only things he had, the only things he could count on, and it would be enough.

Leaving is not an option.

But I have no clue whatsoever what I'm going to say.

What was that sentence - good afternoon Maestro, I'd like to give you this stack of papers that contains my whole heart, I do hope it's to your liking -

He looked down at his feet. The building was making his head spin.

Maybe I can just take a step - he put one foot in front of him - and then the next one, next step, and then just repeat that a few more times until I reach a door.

He reached the goddamn door.

I know how to open a door. I'll just open it.

He pushed the door open and found himself in the middle of a round, spacious lobby.

"Sir?" a young woman with thick-rimmed glasses at the reception desk called after him as he stood and looked around.

Well, it would be impolite if I just left without saying anything.

He walked up to her desk.

"Can I help you, sir?" she asked politely, eyeing him with very obvious unease.

"I'm looking for Fritz Heidel", he somehow pulled out of himself.

"Is mr. Heidel expecting you, sir?" the woman, although obviously unsure what to make of him, was far too professional to let Heidel's potential associate feel unwelcome; she looked down quickly, rummaging through her book and heap of notes.

"Yes", he said quietly. "We have a, a meeting."

"May I ask your name, sir?" she looked up at him expectantly.

Erik waited for one, two, three heartbeats before he slowly said for the first time in his life,

"I'm Erik Giry."

He wondered absentmindedly how the woman would react if he told her, you're the first person in the entire world who has heard me use my own name.

The woman looked somewhat eager to get him out of her hair and, probably, go home.

"Certainly, sir, he's expecting you. Please sign your name here. Mr. Heidel is on the third floor, right hallway, second door."

Erik wrote his name quickly - other names he saw in the book above his own had elaborate signatures, and he wondered for a moment if he was doing something wrong, but the woman simply took the book back and nodded. "Thank you, sir. Have a nice day."

He nodded, "You too", and walked slowly up the stairs.

And that was that. There was no going back now.

ooo

The response reached Nikola in a matter of only a few days after he sent his own letter - he was just packing up his things and making a shopping list for supplies he would have to buy before he left, when his landlady called him from below to get his mail.

"Certainly, ma'am", he put out his cigarette into a neat little tray by the open window - Nikola didn't like leaving the smell of tobacco in other people's rooms - and went downstairs to pick up his mail. He nodded politely to the landlady's teenage daughter, who blushed slightly as always when she saw him, and excused himself to go read his mail in peace.

Alina and Amelija's letters were exactly as he expected them - a lot of heartfelt goodbyes and invitations to visit as soon as he comes back, and sincere pleas that he take good care of himself and not let any bears maul him while he's in the wild. Nikola read them patiently, but what really interested him was the light little envelope with his name written on it in unfamiliar, slightly messy handwriting. While he (unlike the rest of his family) put absolute trust in Alina and Amelija's judgements of character, he was still curious to find out at least something about the mysterious man that had seemingly snatched away the problematic heiress out of her family's paws.

To mr. Nikola Boričević,

Thank you for your letter. I'm not at all inconvenienced by Amelija staying longer, and I'm not normally in the business of giving Alina permissions to do things she wants to do, so you need not worry about it. Amelija is safe here. Take care while you're in Canada.

Erik Giry

"Hmm", Nikola hummed to himself as he rolled another cigarette, "that explains a lot, and yet raises so many more questions. Good luck ever digging that fellow's secrets out, Amelija."