cornices were somewhat plain. The rug beneath her feet was likewise an unremarkable shade of brown. But everything was clean and well kept, and she supposed that was preferable to the inverse. After all, as Monsignor Salvador Musso, Aureumian prelate of Magna Alto, once wrote, “Cleanliness without ostentation may suggest frugality or limited means, but ostentation without cleanliness suggests the most grotesque form of indulgence.” Once Galina moved in, perhaps she could persuade Lady Portinari to add a few more decorative touches.
After a few minutes, the servant returned.
“Her ladyship will see you now, if you would kindly follow me.”
The parlor he led her to was equally modest yet neat. But what beauty the parlor lacked was more than made up for in the grace and poise of its inhabitant. Lady Irina Turgenev Portinari sat in a high-backed chair with her hands resting in her lap. She wore a rose-colored gown, with her long, silky white hair, pure as fresh snow, loose upon her bare, delicate shoulders. Few women could manage to look regal with their hair down, but Lady Portinari was one of them.
“Galina Odoyevtseva, what a lovely surprise,” said Lady Portinari. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I pray you will still look upon me with such fondness once I disclose the worries that preoccupy my mind,” said Galina.
“I see.” Lady Portinari raised a single eyebrow. “Thank you, Dmitry, that will be all. I will ring if you are needed.”
“Yes, my lady.” The servant bowed low, and left.
“Won’t you sit, child?” Lady Portinari gestured to the sofa nearby.
“I prefer to stand, my lady.”
She inclined her head. “As you wish.”
Galina walked over to the glass doors that led to the terrace, which overlooked Nadezhda Square. She could not see the square below from where she stood, but the thin cloud covering above was a radiant smoky gray. Why was it that Galina always felt such days were even brighter than those that allowed the sun to shine freely?
“Lady Portinari, have you ever known your son to be cruel or violent?”
“Not in the slightest,” said Lady Portinari. “If anything, his flaw is a too-tender heart.”
“Rest assured that I feel the same, my lady. From the moment I met him. Yet, have you observed your son to be… changing these past few months?”
Lady Portinari was silent for a moment. “In what way?”
“What is your opinion of Commander Vittorio, my lady?”
Another pause. “I am grateful for all he has done to benefit my son.”
It was an elusive answer. Galina wasn’t surprised. After all, she and Lady Portinari didn’t know each other well and openly expressing dislike of the most powerful man in Izmoroz was a dangerous proposition. So they were at an impasse that would only be resolved if one of them risked speaking the truth. And since it was Galina who had broached the subject, she knew it must be her.
“I am of course grateful for much of what the commander has given Sebastian,” said Galina. “Military leadership has provided him a focus and determination that he might have otherwise lacked. Yet I fear that either the influence of the military, or else the commander’s direct influence, has also affected Sebastian in a negative way as well.”
“My child, you seem to be skirting around a topic that is difficult for you to broach. I pray you speak candidly and know that I am as fond of you as if you were my own daughter. If you express yourself honestly and intelligently, you will find neither judgment nor condemnation here.”
Galina turned from the windows and gave Lady Portinari a smile. She wasn’t sure she completely believed the assurance, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless. “Thank you, my lady. Please know that what I say next is out of a deep concern for Sebastian and a desire to see him become the best man he can be.”
Lady Portinari nodded, but said nothing.
Silence hung in the room. Galina was surprised at her own nervousness. She took off her fur hat, which had grown intolerably warm now that she was inside, and placed it on the sofa. Then she took a deep, fortifying breath.
“Sebastian recently recounted the events of his first official mission as an imperial captain, in which he was ordered to broker peace for a workers’ dispute at Bledney Mines.”
“I believe he mentioned it to me,” said Lady Portinari.
“Did he expound on the means by which he settled the dispute?”
“He did not.”
“I am sorry to be the one to tell you, then, that he