The Musketeers

ROMAN STOOD AT THE BALLROOM ENTRYWAY. He spied his friends across the room. They lifted their glasses to him and laughed as the young woman walked away. He glared back at them.

Uri, the tallest of the three was a childhood friend. He and Roman had joined the military together, akin to brothers in arms. The other two fellows, Boris, a second son of a duke, and Fëdor, who had a nervous habit of chewing on his handlebar mustache, all served together as Chevalier Guards.

Roman joined his friends. “She wouldn’t tell me her name.”

“Lovely, is she not?” Boris said. “Her name is Kira Alesksandrovna. I understand that she is engaged to a prominent colonel. Her father oversees the Belorussian government and has political ties with the Tsar.”

Roman grabbed a glass of champagne from a servant’s tray, motioned for him to stay, gulped it down, then picked up another glass. He observed Kira exit the room with her aunt.

“Take it easy Roman, you know you can’t hold your drink,” Uri said.

Roman guzzled the second drink. He swayed a bit. Uri steadied him.

Fëdor said, “Did you see that degenerate approach the royal carriage today? A few slashes to his face with my sword put that socialist pig in his place.”

“Yes, but you almost fell off your horse in the process.” The men laughed, with the exception of Roman.

“These peasants are too bold,” Boris said. “These serfs were freed from their landowners and allowed to purchase farms. They should be toiling in their fields not staging protests.”

“They must sell everything they produce to pay their taxes.” Roman said. “How is it that we allow our own people to starve?”

Uri squeezed his arm and shook his head. “Not here, Roman.”

Fëdor twisted his mustache.

Boris shifted his weight and looked over his shoulder. “Maybe we should go somewhere with less prying ears.”

Uri said, “Boris, you and Fëdor go find young ladies to dance with while I take Roman outside.”

“I’m fine,” Roman said as he and Uri stood on the terrace.

“Take care around Boris, remember he is from the aristocracy,” Uri said.

Roman nodded then filled his lungs with fresh air. Kira’s heart-shaped face appeared in his thoughts. “I need to find her.”

“And do what?” Uri said.

“I don’t know, but I must speak with her again.”

“I sense a sea of troubles,” Uri said.