The Toll {Book 2}

23. Your Own- Nadia

"G-Galina," I stuttered, trying to free myself from her grasp. Ferdinand jogged to keep up.

The stage loomed above us, and in front of it, two standalone chairs sat near the orchestra pit. A man in a black suit, with a shock of white hair along his temples, sat on one of the chairs, leaning over a stack of papers and chewing on a pencil as he read.

Galina leaned into him, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Hello, Simeon!"

The man looked up and offered a brief smile, one I got the impression did not often grace his lined face. He stood so he could kiss both Galina's cheeks. "I'm glad you could make it."

"I wouldn't miss seeing the upcoming stars," Galina said. "Speaking of, I've brought the two I was telling you about." She waved to her side in our general direction. I felt like a child being scolded, and had to remind myself not to shrink down into my shoulders and look at the floor.

"This is Simeon Gramercie, one of the premiere choreographers that Rumonin has to offer," Galina said to us.

"It is an honor to meet you, sir," I said.

Ferdinand held out a hand for the man to shake. "I think I danced a few of your modern pieces at the National."

"You were at the National?" Mr. Gramercie said, his eyes narrowing. He looked Ferdinand up and down like he would an auctioned calf, and then his mouth popped open. "Why, yes, I know you! The Popov boy!"

Ferdinand smiled, and even though it looked warm and charming to everyone else, I could see a wince in his eyes and the painful way the corners of his lips twitched. He was uncomfortable. I edged a little closer, but I knew I couldn't comfort him here.

"Ferdinand Popov. And Nadia Surikov."

Mr. Gramercie paid about as much attention to my name as he would small-talk about the weather. He latched onto Ferdinand with enthusiasm. "Yes, now I remember. You were quite a sensation, son. I was thinking about contracting with the National for another ballet, so that I might work with you. You left before I could have the pleasure."

Ferdinand nodded. "I felt the need to try new waters." He thankfully made no mention of Mr. Lennox and his company. Though we had gained a name for ourselves, right before it all came crashing down, it was still tainted by the part Lennox played in Matveev's plans. Though Mr. Gramercie might well know about the anti-royalist ballets we danced, we were all deciding, in silence, to not speak of things we were forced to do in order to survive in the days before the Uprising.

"Simeon, I wanted Ferdinand and Nadia to dance for you today," Galina said. "If they're any good, perhaps we could add them to the ranks?"

Mr. Gramercie nodded his head, his eyes still taking in every detail of Ferdinand. He was a choreographer being presented with one of the greatest dancers to grace his city. He was no doubt already thinking of solos for Ferdinand. I fought back a smile, giddy that perhaps in a few more minutes, Ferdinand might regain some of what he'd lost trying to keep me safe in Rumonin.

Mr. Gramercie directed us to a set of steps leading onto the stage near the bundled curtains. We pulled off our shoes and stockings, and Ferdinand dropped his jacket and tie, before we walked up to the polished planking, and over to join the ranks of the ballet company. A few of the Rumonin, and even some of the Flaunsian, dancers immediately recognized Ferdinand. They whispered among themselves, trying not to stare too much, but mostly failing. One of the male dancers grabbed Ferdinand and maneuvered him to an empty space near the front. I was left to slip in the second row, half hidden behind a tall Rumoni girl. I knew I should be fighting to stay up front, but the buffer of a few people felt almost soothing as my heart splashed against my ribs.