Still facing the tapestry, Feliks’ eyebrows shot up at Katya’s mention of rumours, the gears in his head whirring a little faster. He was silent for a long moment, deliberating. Could it work? Or was it all too foolish and dangerous? They’d be gambling everything, putting their lives in danger, for a reward that might not come, after all. A ten-million-ruble reward, he reminded himself.
If she said yes. Was it worth it?
After an almost suspiciously long time, Feliks made up his mind.
“Funny you should mention rumours,” he began, almost cautiously,
“I heard one just this morning that the Grand Duchess Katerina survived.”Katya thought Feliks was going to leave her in suspense forever, though when he spoke again he managed to surprise her.
“Right...that’s the...one of those girls,” She said, shaking her head as she looked up at the tapestry.
“A ray of hope for our country? The Bolsheviks aren’t exactly well liked.” Feliks smirked, uncharacteristically amused by Katya’s fumbling.
“The youngest one,” he explained, tapping the child with the shock-blonde hair and giving Katya an amused look. His grey eyes glinted like steel, a rare spark lighting them, but he shook his head.
“But no, unfortunately I doubt it. It would be far too dangerous for her to reveal herself in Russia. However,” his voice took on a daring edge, Feliks turning to face Katya with a much more hospitable demeanour than before.
“What I heard this morning was that her grandmother, the Dowager Empress who fled to Paris, is offering a reward to whoever can find her.” No wonder the rumors had started up again. It was actually a little sad now that she thought about it; probably the hopes of a sad, old woman.
“Assuming she’s still alive,” Katya replied.
“But even if she was, don’t you think it’s odd that she would show up now?” “I do,” Feliks admitted, almost chuckling at Katya voicing his exact thoughts when he’d first laid eyes on her.
“But I suppose she would have been here all along, and her grandmother is only now desperate enough to search for her.” Feliks shrugged, crossing the landing to lean on a banister as his hip started to complain.
“She could have been taken in and hidden by some monarchist, or taken shelter in the country, been hidden away in an orphanage all these years…” his thoughts returned once more to that horrible night of the siege, seeing Katerina cornered in that room, the soldier, the gunshots. A chill ran up his spine even now.
“...after all, who would chase down a little girl in winter, thinking she wouldn’t survive the night?”It happened in winter? Katya scratched her cheek as she listened to Feliks’ line of thinking. She supposed it made sense now that she was hearing it out loud. At the mention of an orphanage Katya raised her eyebrows at the man.
“That...sounds like…” Maybe she was getting ahead of herself, and despite the jump in logic, she couldn’t quite contain her suspicion.
“You really think she’s alive?” As bitter as he was most of the time, Feliks almost couldn’t contain his internal celebration that Katya seemed to be picking up on his implications.
“You know, I really didn’t,” he admitted, tilting his head at the tapestry,
“But the Dowager clearly does, and…” he paused for a moment, debating whether he should be so heavy handed with it, and deciding that, well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.
He looked to Katya.
“To be perfectly honest, when I first laid eyes on you, I thought you were her.” He chuckled a little, not wanting to come across as too off-putting.
There was probably a better way to show her surprise, but Katya’s jaw dropped nonetheless.
“What?” Came the response of disbelief, though it didn’t last too long as the blonde burst out laughing.
“Yes, because as the Grand Duchess, I decided living on the streets and freezing my tailbone was so much more appealing than living in royalty.” What a great laugh that was. As Katya looked at Feliks she shook her head at him.
“That’s very flattering that you think I could pass for a duchess, best compliment I’ve received in years,” She replied in earnest.
Feliks laughed along, though he raised an eyebrow at the woman as he fished in his coat for his cigarettes.
“Those trash bin fires are cozy,” he reasoned, grinning as he pulled out a cigarette and searched for his matches, gripping it in his teeth.
When the laughter died down, though, and Feliks had taken his first drag on the new cigarette, he quirked his chin to the tapestry once more.
“Honestly, though. Take a look at that girl and tell me you don’t think you look like her.”Wrinkling her nose at the cigarette, Katya was all too happy to divert her attention away from the source, following Feliks’ gesture to the tapestry. She had to tell herself to stop looking at the oldest girl, instead going to the opposite end of the family and to the one he had indicated. The girl certainly shared Katya’s hair down to the soft waves, a few common features giving claim to what Feliks said. The previous disbelief didn’t seem as certain as before, and she supposed he had a point.
“I guess I can see it,” She gave him that much.
“Is that why you were so surprised when I first approached you? Because I look like the girl in the tapestry?”Feliks shrugged, but nodded. That was one way to put it, he supposed. He brought his cigarette back to his lips, taking a drag before replying.
“Yes,” he admitted,
“That and the incredible coincidence of you showing up moments after I heard the rumour about the Dowager Empress’ reward, wanting to go to Paris.”“Huh. What a coincidence, right?” Katya asked him, waving away the scent of his smoke as he exhaled. Taking a moment to think to herself, she stayed quiet until she had a thought.
“...My nana thought someone in Paris would recognize me. If I look like the duchess, maybe I'm a cousin or something? Or is that too much of a stretch?” She asked him, frowning.
Feliks shrugged again, gesturing with his cigarette hand and leaving trails of smoke twisting through the air.
“You never know,” he encouraged subtly,
“Like you said, you don’t remember anything, right? You could be anyone.” He was quiet for a moment, before adding,
“That would be some way to get to Paris though, wouldn’t it?”Pausing once again, Katya rubbed her arm as she stared at Feliks.
“It would be,” She gave him that much before she would think to herself again, though he would notice her eyes flickering back to the tapestry. The resemblance really was uncanny, wasn't it?
“Think I could get a discount on my ticket on resemblance alone?”Feliks gave a ghost of a laugh, but he was somewhat more serious.
“Maybe not a discount, but the reward waiting in Paris would be more than enough to cover the fare,” he suggested, watching Katya out of the corner of his eye.
“The reward from the Dowager Empress?” Katya asked, a little surprised at his suggestion.
“But that's for finding Katerina, isn't it?”“Yes, but I would imagine that if the Dowager Empress has ten million rubles to spare, whatever life awaiting the newly found Katerina would be more than enough to make it worth the trip.” Feliks spoke offhandedly, but his eyes glinted with a dangerous idea. Once he’d finished off his cigarette and flicked it away, he turned to face Katya, a little more life seeping into him than before.
“Think of it, really now,” he insisted, humour replaced by something like cautious optimism - a rare thing indeed.
“You’re looking to get to Paris, and I’m very much interested in that reward. If we go, and we fail, and she turns us away, then you’ve still made it to Paris and I’m the only one at a loss.”He eyed Katya carefully, gauging her response.
“But if we succeed, and the Dowager accepts you as Katerina, I’ll be ten million rubles richer and you’ll be living like…” he gestured for a moment, before something like a breathy laugh escaped him.
“...Well, like a princess.”Saying Katya was shocked at the suggestion was putting it lightly, the blonde looking around for a second as if seeing if he was talking to someone else. When she confirmed that he was, in fact, referring to her, she crossed her arms. That idea was crazy! Yes, the resemblance was there, but if she was understanding him right, he wanted her to pretend
she was Katerina.
After a moment of deliberation, Katya raised a hand to her forehead.
“You realize the Dowager would take one look at me--” She lowered her hands to her tattered coat, pulling on it to show Feliks what she was talking about.
“--and know I'm not exactly princess material, right?”Feliks couldn’t help but follow Katya’s gesture, a bit of his former disgust at her clothes returning before he brushed it back aside, waving away Katya’s concern.
“Well obviously,” he shot back sarcastically,
“But Katerina’s been missing for what, twelve years? Surely the Dowager wouldn’t expect her to have all the makings of a lifelong princess.” He turned to lean backwards against the banister, almost sitting on it.
“Besides, it’s not as if we’re being chased out of Russia. We can stay here for a while longer and whip you into shape before facing the Empress.”Tilting her head to the side, Katya watched Feliks as he spoke. He seemed to have put in a lot more thought into this than she would have thought, considering they just noticed the resemblance. Unless he had seen it earlier--he
did mention that he had noticed it a lot earlier than she did. But it also felt like they were trying to trick an old woman for the money, or at least, the reward was something he was interested in. He did say that there wasn't much to lose, and if they were turned away, then all's well that ends well.
“I guess there's no harm in trying,” Katya frowned at Feliks, her hands at her sides as she gave him a shrug. Pausing for a second, she eyed him for a second before asking,
“And how exactly are you planning to ‘whip me into shape’? You don't exactly scream royalty yourself.”“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong,” Feliks replied, flashing something of a cocky grin. It only hovered a moment, however, before he schooled his features into something more polite and cleared his throat.
“I used to work here,” he explained, gesturing to the palace around them,
“I remember a lot of the protocol, and I bet we could find materials in here somewhere to make up the rest.”“Besides,” he added, heaving himself off the banister and walking in his particular way to the middle of the landing, standing tall.
“I never start a project I don’t intend to perfect. For ten million rubles, I will turn you into a princess.” He spoke with conviction, holding out his right hand.
“So, what do you say?”
