On The Stage

XXII

Today's tour of King Therorian's abode, in the company of the guide and Wilhelm Von Mott, could have been really successful. A fox named Susanna literally went to great lengths to tell us the history of both the castle and the monarchs who have lived there over the centuries in the most interesting way possible. We walked around various parts of the castle that were normally closed to castle visitors. We toured several galleries with antiques, paintings, and artwork. We looked at original records of rulers dating back centuries, or listened to not quite correct and polite stories about their private lives. All this was really interesting against the background that one question was constantly on my mind. It was "What the fuck?"

The dinner lasted so long that I had a feeling it was never going to end. I couldn't take out my phone during it because of the strict etiquette of the castle. Such behavior would be perceived as disrespectful to all guests. I didn't pay any attention to anyone during the party, but I knew that the eyes of the guests were certainly directed at me. Who was I staring at? Apolonia Von Rostov, of course, who really liked the atmosphere of the court, because the old woman felt in the company of other old stagers like a goldfish in fucking crystal water. Apolonia did not laugh, did not smile, but she did not deny herself the pleasure of conversation with other jurors of the competition. During the entire dinner, not once did she even turn her head in my direction. She acted as if I was not with her at all in that huge hall.

You can probably guess that as soon as I got back to my chamber I immediately grabbed the phone and called Kevin. I wanted to tell him everything that had happened. I wanted him to try to give me some rational explanation for the fact that Apolonia was in the castle and would be judging my fucking performance. Unfortunately, I didn't find any words of comfort from Kevin's lips. On the contrary.

Apolonia Von Rostov visited Kevin in his apartment in Karkarom before coming to the royal castle. Kevin didn't tell me anything because he didn't want to stress me out unnecessarily before an important contest for all of us. However, he admitted that if he had known that Apolonia would be at the castle the same day, he would have told me everything right away. The old woman, however, did not give him even an ounce of suspicion that she would be a juror during the contest. To make matters worse, everything seemed to indicate that Apolonia had flown straight from St. Petersburg. She wasn't at the Von Rostov family home, although she assured Kevin that she knew everything that had happened at the house in her absence. Wolf claimed that Apolonia had only come to tell him to pack up and wait for Buck, with whom we were to return to Hight Water after the contest.

Since no one knew what Apolonia had actually gone to Russia for, my panic escalated. For half the night I couldn't control the shaking of my hands and my nervous breathing. All this time I was accompanied by Kevin, on the phone. The man was trying to calm me down somehow, although in his voice I could hear the equally great fear that was now filling me too.

The boy kept trying to dissuade me from thinking that Apolonia was actually a former KGB agent. But, fuck, how the fuck else do you explain everything? Let's establish the fucking facts one at a time. Apolonia Von Rostov, upon hearing that I made it to the finals of the "Crown Diamond" dance competition and that I was in an alleged relationship with her grandson, immediately left for Russia to visit her former family, about which she fucking tells no one, says nothing and immediately suppresses any subject concerning her past. After that, two months later she shows up at the royal castle in Karkarom dressed in snow-white pearls and announces that there is no such thing as second place in a competition and anyone who doesn't come in first place is a loser. It all looks like Apolonia is craving blood. My blood.

The problem, however, was that I couldn't expect the worst, because Apolonia sends extremely contradictory signals. If the old woman knows perfectly well that I'm trying to help this family, why would she plant her foot on me? What am I saying, what foot-dragging? Apolonia will probably aim a bazooka at me during the performance and when she pulls the trigger, only miserable fragments of the person I once was will remain of me. The lack of explanation for anything was frustrating and frightening at the same time. After all, I am in possession of her dance routines, which are not weak at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. It is literally a veritable treasure chest of the most valuable treasures a dancer could ask for. Perhaps Apolonia gave it to me in the conviction that I would not master this dance and would humiliate myself in front of the king himself? But after all, if in her opinion I was hopeless at dancing and unfit for it, she would not have begun to train me at all. It all made no sense. It didn't even have one fucking factor in common.