"I suppose that's a freedom reserved for those without the burden of a family name." Anastasiya mused. She's moved on to the daggers now, cleaning and giving them the attention they missed. "My mother did not get that choice. My father.. [i]well[/i]." She smiled to herself, "And I doubt their parents before them got any say in the matter either. It does sound quite catching though, doesn't it? The son of Russia's greatest weapon merchant and the daughter of the Tsar's first general."

Finally she set down the things in her hands and turned to focus her full attention on Nikolai. The riding outfit made no attempt to obscure the figure underneath it - curved at the right places, with evidence of strength that came from her time spent with the horses. Anastasiya tilted her head in the slightest as she watched the man work over his notebook.

"What are you drawing?" Curiosity got the better of her.