Icy Heart and Warm Love

Chapter Eighteen

Kalda had to admit that she had never witnessed such a party before.

She had never had so much fun before, either, and she didn't want the night to end.

Russia and Kalda had even talked amongst themselves, and he had asked her if she wanted to go somewhere special with him.

Kalda obviously knew that it was a date, but Russia didn't want to make it awkward.

It was nice of him to do that for her, so Kalda knew then that she couldn't refuse.

Kalda smiled to herself as she put on the red and white dress that the five men had given her the night before as a present.

After Kalda had gotten ready, she got on a plane after she had brought a jacket and her purse.

I'll never know when I'm going to need this, she thought to herself.

Kalda met up with Russia and the Baltics, and they seemed really happy to see her like always.

She was happy to see them, too, laughing and hugging them.

"Ready to go?" Russia asked.

"Can't wait," she told him with a grin.

Russia took her to a beautiful building, and Kalda noticed that it was an opera house.

The duo walked in and Kalda gasped at the beauty of it all.

She saw the grand stage with the dark red, velvet curtains closed over the set, and Kalda suddenly realized what was going on.

"We're at the ballet!" she squealed. "Oh, I've always wanted to see it in real life!"

Russia grinned, his silver hair falling into his violet eyes.

"Knew you would like surprise," he said.

"The Nutcracker," Kalda read on the program. "This sounds wonderful!"

"It is," Russia replied. "Is one of my favorites. Always try to see it every year."

"Well, I'm excited," Kalda smiled as the lights went dark.

The pit orchestra near the stage started to play the overture, and Kalda's heart raced with wild excitement.

The curtains opened, revealing the dancers in their fancy outfits.

The set looked gorgeous and very well-constructed, so Kalda got even more excited.

As the beginning of the story went on, Kalda turned to Russia.

"There's no singing or talking," she softly whispered.

"In ballet, is no singing or talking at all," he softly whispered back. "Just music and dancing."

"How do they tell the story, then?" Kalda wondered. "If there's no words, how do people understand the story?"

"Because dancers tell story themselves," Russia answered. "Continue watching. Will make sense later."

Kalda nodded with a smile, looking back at the beautiful dancers.

They move so quickly that their dancing is on point, Kalda thought to herself. If I was a normal person instead of a country, I would be a ballet dancer for sure!

Kalda started to fall in love with the story, seeing Clara fall in love with her little toy soldier.

She smiled as she closed her eyes for a few seconds, letting the music swallow her whole.