The Paleys (1921-1927) - An Alternate Romanov Story

Serge

When the performance came to an end, Natalia sat mesmerized, still feeling her heart racing from the exhilaration of everything she had just witnessed. Every movement from that young dancer had left a lasting impression on her mind. She knew she was still breathing somehow, but it felt as if all air had been taken out of her lungs. Even her hands were trembling and she clutched to the edge of her seat so nobody would notice just how much a simple spectacle had affected her.

Sitting by her side, her father glanced at her with a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. She was certain he could see the sparkle in her eyes, the flush of excitement on her cheeks. With a playful glint of his own, he leaned over and asked,

"Well, Natalia, what do you think? Shall we go home now, or would you like to meet the dancers?"

Natalia thought she had no emotions left to feel, but, after hearing her father's words, she could swear her heart was bursting out of her chest. The prospect of meeting the dancers, especially that one dancer in particular, was almost too much to bear. It was useless now to contain her excitement and her breath came out in quick, eager bursts as she turned to him with wide eyes.

"I would love to meet them!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling.

Stepping into their world, even for just a moment, seemed almost too good to be true. Her father chuckled softly, pleased by her enthusiasm.

"I thought you might say that," he said as the final curtain fell and the audience erupted into applause. Natalia joined in, her hands clapping fervently, though her thoughts were already racing ahead to what might come next.

When the applause subsided and the theatre slowly emptied, Natalia remained in her seat, her mind still spinning with everything she had seen that evening — the colours, the music, the dancer —it was all so vivid, so overwhelming.

Then, just as she began to rise, she heard a soft knock at the door of their box. Natalia's father turned to see a young man standing in the doorway, dressed smartly in evening attire. He bowed respectfully and then spoke in a polite and measured tone.

"Your Imperial Highness," he said, addressing Natalia's father, "Monsieur Sergei Diaghilev extends his warmest regards and wishes to invite you and your family to meet the dancers backstage if it pleases you."

Her heart raced with renewed excitement while her father looked at her, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, Natasha," he said, "it seems your wish has come true. Shall we accept the invitation?"

Natalia nodded eagerly, unable to produce any sound. She couldn't trust herself to speak, afraid that her excitement might spill over into incoherent babbling. Instead, she simply smiled and it took all of her restraint not to skip like a schoolgirl. This was more than she could have ever hoped for—a chance to step behind the curtain, to see the dancers up close, and perhaps even speak to them.

As they followed the young man out of the box and towards the backstage area, Natalia's mind felt like a carousel, full of questions. What would the dancers be like off-stage? Would they be as extraordinary in person as they were in the spotlight?

Backstage, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. The luxury of the theatre gave way to a bustling, more intimate world, filled with activity, the sound of soft laughter, and the rustling of costumes. Natalia's heart pounded as they entered a large room where several figures stood, waiting.

Monsieur Sergei Diaghilev himself appeared almost immediately. He was a short, stout man, with a round, protruding belly that strained against his fashionable white shirt. His appearance was further marked by a peculiar moustache, thin and wiry, that sat awkwardly above his upper lip which, Natalia thought to herself with an amused smile, looked more like a small, wriggling worm than a traditional moustache. It seemed almost out of place on his face, adding an oddity to his otherwise unremarkable features. Yet, despite this unconventional appearance, he possessed a charisma so powerful that no one could remain indifferent in his presence. This was the man who, single-handedly and through sheer force of will, had sparked a revolution in the world of ballet.