War forgets what art remembers. Grief remembers what war forgets. All Giselle Allard wanted was to honour her and her sister's shared dream by becoming a prima ballerina. And yet, in a city of snow-dusted dreams, hers seems as far out of reach as ever. Working hard to overcome cultural barriers as a French pariah in France, the arrival of the Maître de Ballet en Chef's son only complicates matters for her. ㅤInjured and decorated, Anton Volkov has returned home to Leningrad by no volition of his own, torn between ideology and the voices of the ghosts that follow him. He didn't mean to be pulled into her orbit. She didn't mean to fall for someone who was more soldier than poet. ㅤAs Giselle dances toward the role that can make or break her and her dreams, Anton finds himself caught between sides and the startling desire of wanting something for himself for once. She is everything the state doesn't reward, but the more she dares to shine, the more he finds himself drawn in, despite knowing exactly how it ends for men like him. In the heart of Leningrad, Giselle and Anton must choose what's worth holding on to: duty, desire, or the fragile beauty of something that may not survive the final act. After all, every ballet has its last bow. And every soldier learns when not to march. Either way, the curtain never falls quietly. ㅤㅤan original historical romance. ㅤㅤ⋆˚✮ © ladyqueenish / daemos_ ㅤㅤ31/07/25 to TBD. ᝰ.ᐟ