The next morning was grey and cloudy, instantly darkening Dominika’s mood as she woke. She was groggy and jetlagged, and it took her a moment to remember where she was as she woke up in the unfamiliar room. She’d spent the night dreaming of the sun gleaming through the canopy in the woods of the estate as she wandered through it, and waking up to the harsh reality of the colorless Washington day was confronting. Her neck was stiff from spending the night on the window seat, and she decided to sleep in the bed she’d been provided with from now on.

She got up slowly, rolling her head from side to side as she went, trying to work out the knots that had formed. Dominika spread the puffy white duvet back over the stripped bed, and smoothed the edges down before wandering into her adjoining bathroom.

Her reflection in the vanity mirror looked even more tired than she felt, light purple circles underneath her eyes. She washed her face and brushed her teeth, humming softly. Her hair was a mess and she pulled the brush through it over and over again, trying to tame the tangled mass. She added a little water and was finally satisfied with her appearance.

As Dominika padded down the stairs, the house was still and silent save for a small beam of yellow light shining on the floor of the formal lounge, leading to the kitchen. She followed it curiously and paused at the kitchen door where she heard faint singing in…Russian?

A deep male voice sung a popular Russian tune under his breath, and although she could barely make out the words, his accent was enough to tell her he was a native speaker. She knocked at the door timidly and the singing stopped abruptly.

“Hello?” the voice called out, muffled behind the door. Solid footsteps approached and the door swung open suddenly, revealing a very tall, heavy-set man with bushy black hair and beard wearing black-and-white check pants and a white apron.

“Hi” Dominika said in Russian, “sorry to disturb you, you must be the chef, I’m Dominika. I heard you singing”

“Princess!” he said in surprise, bowing his head, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I hope your journey from the old country was a pleasant one”

It was so nice to have someone who understood her in her native language, tears pricked in her eyes from the exchange. The chef sensed her emotion and invited her into the warm kitchen, pulling a stool into the center of the room and gesturing for her to sit.

“Would you like some tea?” he asked “I’m just getting breakfast underway, it won’t be long”

She nodded eagerly and brushed her hair to the front of her face to cover it a little, embarrassed. She felt like she didn’t know herself anymore, pre-invasion Dominika wouldn’t have gotten emotional in front of anyone for any reason.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name” Dominika said. He produced a porcelain mug from a nearby cabinet and filled it with dark red liquid from a glass tea pot resting on the counter. He handed it to her and wiped his hands on the tea towel thrown over his shoulder.

“Konstantin” he replied.

“Konstantin” Dominika repeated, memorizing the name “it’s so nice to have someone who finally understands me!”

“They told me you speak perfect English” he retorted, glancing back at her questioningly.
“Of course I do, but it’s still impossible to put all your words into another language. It’s been a big adjustment for me, speaking in only English all the time. At home we only spoke in English when we were around the Americans” she explained.

“Ah” he said knowingly, nodding once. A timer rang shrilly, making her jump and Konstantin chuckled as he retrieved a rustic looking loaf of bread from the double oven.

“Is that black bread?!” she exclaimed, eyes widening. Konstantin nodded.

“Only the best”

“If you show me herring right now, I think I’ll die”

He opened the fridge on the opposite side of the room and produced a large jar, shaking it.

“Homemade” he stated. She clapped her hands together happily.

“Donna said you made good food”

“Donna is correct”

---

After the best breakfast she’d had in close to two weeks, Dominika’s mood had improved significantly and now she was enthusiastic when Donna suggested they go into the city to pick out some things for her, since she was sorely lacking anything to wear to her audition the next day. The thought of getting new clothes in her own size was exciting after being stuck in either dirty or ill-fitting garments since the invasion. She changed into the jeans she’d worn on her departure from Russia and a plain long-sleeved black t-shirt, feeling like she matched the dark weather outside.

They took Donna’s car, a shiny black BMW and drove the short distance into the city, marked by its blocks and blocks of tall buildings obstructing the skyline. The streets were less crowded today. Donna parked the car in an underground security lot and once they were both out of their seats and the doors locked, guided Dominika into an elevator at the furthest end.

“What is this place?” Dominika asked as she followed Donna into the mirrored elevator. Donna pressed the highest button and smiled back at her as she turned to check her reflection.

“This is one of Washington’s best department stores” she replied, smoothing down her jacket “you’ll need clothes for ballet school and casual wear, pick out whatever you like”

“Oh you don’t need to do tha-“

Donna held up her hands and shook her head.

“Like we promised Domi, everything will be taken care of”

Dominika remained silent for the rest of the elevator ride to the top of the store, grateful for the kindness of Gerard’s family.

When the elevator reached the top floor and the doors opened, the two of them stepped out into a huge space filled with endless racks of clothing arranged by color. The space was painted and floored in white, and made even brighter by huge open skylights that took over the roof above them. The aisles between the clothes were carpeted in plush gold carpet, making the place look far more elegant than your average department store.

“The young adult section for ladies is over there” Donna said, gesturing to a large group of racks in the center of the room “go have a look through there if you like, I’ll be over here in the women’s wear”

Dominika spent over an hour pawing through the clothes, selecting pieces that were conservative but stylish and comfortable. She was impressed with the myriad of color within the selection, back home her choices had been limited and her Mother and Father had been particularly strict with her and her sister’s clothes. Dominika had never been allowed to wear jeans, pants or trousers and instead always wore skirts and dresses. Pants weren’t appropriate for a princess according to her old-fashioned parents.

As the weather was turning colder, she chose a mix of pants and skirts, smiling to herself as she imagined how horrified her Mother would have been to see her in the pair of high-waisted, wide-legged black formal pants she held in her hand.

Donna joined her after a while, holding Dominika’s selections for her as she rifled through a pile of t-shirts stacked high on a table. They took the garments to the dressing rooms and weeded out the keepers, discarding the rejects as they left the changing rooms. Dominika blushed as Donna paid the expensive total at the counter with a glossy black credit card, thanking her copiously afterwards.

“You’re very welcome, darling. Now, I’ve done some research” Donna said, producing a slim red cell phone “there’s a specialty dance store just down the road and they carry the country’s most reputable brand of ballet slippers, what do you say we head there?”

Dominika nodded eagerly and followed Donna back to the elevators where they travelled back down to the parking lot and deposited their purchases on the backseat of the BMW. They took the elevator up again and exited at street level, Dominika’s hair blowing around her face wildly in the wind tunnel created by the city buildings. They walked a short distance down the street and Donna stopped them in front of a glass-fronted shop window where mannequins posed in colorful dance uniforms.

A young woman with red hair and freckles greeted them as they entered, smiling broadly.

“Hello” she said “how can I help you?”

Donna’s cellphone began to ring, a cheery wind-chime tune, and she fumbled in her handbag to find it.

“Tell the lady what you need, Dominika” Donna said, sighing with relief as she pulled the phone from her bag. She slid her thumb across the screen and turned away from the pair, walking to the front of the store as she put it to her ear.

Dominika launched into a conversation with the saleswoman about the various designs of slippers they carried, examining each shoe in her hands carefully as she listened to the woman’s sales pitch. They were slightly different from what she was used to back in Russia, the soles broader and the stitching less refined, but it didn’t take her long to choose a pair of soft lilac slippers in satin, secured to the foot in matching silken ribbon. The second she tied them on her feet, she felt transported back in time to being a little girl of only four or five, not long after she’d first begun to study ballet. She’d owned a pair just like the ones she wore now, the very first pair she’d ever owned.

“Those are lovely, Domi” Donna commented as she reappeared from around a corner. Dominika began to unlace the ribbons.

“I think I’ll get these, they’re perfect” Dominika sighed, admiring the shoes one last time before placing them back in their box and handing it to the saleswoman.

“That was easy” Donna said as she paid at the register. The saleswoman packed the box into a striped boutique bag and handed it to Dominika over the counter.

Dominika swung the bag happily by her side as she walked next to Donna down the street, back towards the parking garage.

“Are you hungry?” Donna asked, glancing at her sideways “there’s a lovely café a few blocks away”

“Sure” she replied.

“Perfect. I have some exciting news”

Notes

@Chemical_30 this chapter is for you! Thank you for being such a great reader, I always look forward to your comments <3