Whose Muse is Whose?

Whose Muse is Whose

The troika rattled wildly down the snow covered roadway that was completely obscured by the freshly fallen snow. There were still large flakes falling in white cotton puffs making it hard to see very far in front of the sleigh. My eyes stung with cold as the snow slammed into my face at the breakneck speed I was traveling. It was a very cold night and the crystal spears of icicles hung from the trees in long silvery shadows.

I was in a hurry to meet my muse in her home. She was having important guests in for a dinner party and she told me I must attend. Her husband had gone to Moscow for business and would not be back for several days. This would be a rare opportunity for me to spend some very special time with the Princess. I was traveling so fast because I was behind schedule for her party due to a meeting with local government officials.

I had spent the summer searching the area for just the right property, the right size and right location. Princess Anna and I had met at several social events over that time and always made some excuse to take a walk in the garden or spend time in the parlor listening to her play piano. She was breathtakingly beautiful. Not as tall as most girls, however what she lacked in height she made up with in feminine form.

I turned on a long sweeping corner a little too fast; the sled rails lost traction and slid off the road into a very bumpy patch of ice. The right rail sunk into the soft snow at the edge of the road and the troika tilted almost on its side before it cam back down with a crash. I shook off the snow and cleared my eyes and saw her estate in the distance it loomed out of the snow like a train from the fog. As I approached I could see the lights shining brightly through the windows. It was a beautiful country mansion set in a large meadow fringed by old growth oak trees. The stone walls were covered with layers of winter ice. Making it look like the whole house was aglow.

There were several out buildings for cattle and living quarters for the serfs that worked her fields in the summer. She had a well known reputation for taking very good care of the people that worked her farm. It showed in their dedication to her. Her property always looked perfect.

There was a long strait stretch of road that led up to the archway that marked the entrance to her home. I never missed the chance to run the horses hard and fast so I beat my horses into a frenzy to get the extra speed. I was good to my animals but at times like this they unfortunately had to pay for my belated arrival. I honestly think they liked the hard running as much as I did. We were traveling so fast the bells of the troika were no longer ringing they were packed with fresh snow.

I entered the large circular driveway and reigned in the horses slowing down as they trotted up slowly to where her old coachman was waiting. He took the reigns of the horses as I hopped out of the sleigh brushing off the snow and ice. I stamped my feet to shake of the snow and ice and get the circulation back into my toes. He gave me a knowing wink and said “she has been asking for you sir, please go in.

He looked at the froth coming from the mouth of my lead horses and said, “I will take care of them for you sir.” “Thank you Aleksi”, I said, as I took long strides up the lighted entryway.

Inside the front door one of the house servants took my coat and hat and led the way to the anteroom. She asked me to sit on a large red velvet covered couch while she went in to announce me. The room was large and opulently furnished with hardwoods floors and deep red drapes that hung heavy and beautiful in the windows that went from floor to ceiling. Candles filled every shelf and every window sill lighting the place up like Christmas. I could hear the music playing in the distance and the cheerful laughter of people enjoying themselves.

I couldn’t sit still, like a little child I was up and pacing around the room admiring the artwork that was so common now. Typical country scenes with the darkest of backgrounds so dark that the trees and landscapes could be barely seen if viewed very close.

The always lovely and always breathtaking Princess Anna Morozova came herself to receive me. She was dressed in a full length emerald green gown, covered with green and white ribbons; her hair was tied up in matching green ribbons. From her neck hung a beautiful strand of white pearls that made her neck look so sumptuous. In the middle of the pearls was a large teardrop shaped green emerald that accented her fiery red hair that she always told me wasn’t red at all but brunette.

I fell in love with this woman the first time I laid eyes on her and am still amazed at the effect just a glimpse of her has on me. Anna crossed the room, our eyes locked as she pressed my hand. She said, “I am so happy you could make it”, she gave me a small kiss on the cheek and I felt the blood run to my face in a blush.

Taking my hand she turned and walked in front of me leading me into the large ballroom where the rest of her guests were enjoying themselves. Looking at Anna, I couldn’t help thinking of all the beauty that was hiding beneath all those ruffles and lace and that also put a little color in my cheeks and warmth in my belly. We entered the main ballroom and the happy group turned to give us a knowing look and smile. Always the hostess Anna took my hand and introduced me to all at the party, Generals with their courtesans, merchants and Princes. There was a gracious older woman that I recognized that had been living with a king in Germany and had so many interesting stories to tell. We always enjoyed spending time listing to her in the waning hours of the morning. I recognized a few people from the local village and a few I knew were from important government offices in St Petersburg.

Anna offered me a glass of campaign which I graciously took from her delicate hand. She excused herself and left me talking to a young lady of about 18 years old with long blond curls and a simple but pretty face. Her name was Vania which means given by God and to look at her she was a gift for someone. I suspect Anna had gone to the kitchen to make sure all the preparations were to her liking. I missed her already.

Upon returning to the room, she rang a small crystal bell and announced that dinner would be served. She stood to the side of the large archway and ushered us all into a huge dinning area well lit by candles. I lingered hoping to get a moment alone with the Princess before going into dinner. She smiled one of her best smiles as I approached her and took my hand. Her smile melted any resolution I had about doing the right thing.

Large gold chandeliers hung from the ceiling their candles well trimmed and placed to allow light to show evenly throughout the room. Along the walls hung portraits of past family members separated by golden sconces, matching the chandelier, each having 5 candles. It was a happy and gay scene and the aroma of the food made my mouth water.
The seating was arranged according to the hostess will and propriety. The highest ranking general of the party was seated at the head of the table. On his left was a woman with the look of old Russian beauty and money. I suspected this was his wife. On his right was a young woman of about 25 that was very striking, her bright red dress showed in contrast to her jet black hair. She was beautiful with skin that looked like fresh cream and a small turned up nose that gave her face a constant happy look. She was chattering to the old General as young women are known to do. Her name was Fayina and she lit up the room with her continence. As hostess Anna Morozova sat at the other end and made sure I was sitting next to her. What a perfect hypocrisy I was part of, and I loved it. Everyone knew I was her newest plaything but they accepted me like I was royalty.

I came from a good family with large land holdings in several areas of the country. My father was a hero in the war against the French. I remembered his stories of meeting the Great Man. “Napoleon” when he entered Moscow. My mother came from a dignified family in Moscow that had more money than sense when it came to her spending. Father had passed on but Mother still lived in the city with her sister.

I was purchasing this property so that mother could move in with me for the summer months. I knew she would like it as it was facing a large lake and she enjoyed the sunsets over the water. My hopes were just to be somewhere close to Anna Morozova.

We chatted with everyone making dull jokes and rude comments about the lower class. I noticed once in a while the Princess looking at me with a longing and a need that can’t be quelled by conversation. She smiled at me and winked and that’s when I felt her tiny fingers digging sharply into the flesh of my leg. She made eye contact and smiled at me, leaning over to expose just a little too much flesh.

It suddenly struck me. She is not my muse, I am hers.



I Love you Princess.