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“Show me.”

I did. It took her eleven minutes to break the bag, and she came out flushed and dishevelled and radiant, and hugged me so hard my ribs cracked.

“Don’t ever leave me alone with a plan again,” she said, into my coat.

“I will not.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

“You have a family,” said Sabine. “You have an enormous family. You are never allowed to do anything stupid alone again.”

“I promise.”

“Say it in Russian.”

“ Obeshchayu, “ I said.

“Good,” she sniffed, and wiped her eyes. “Now go and fetch your husband. Your mother-in-law is trying to feed him again.”

“He is not my husband yet.”

“Maksim.” She patted my cheek, with the terrible affection of a woman who has watched a man be a fool for two centuries. “He is your husband in every way that matters. Go and marry him.”

I looked at the house. At the tall windows blazing with gold. At a figure in the dining-room window, waving both arms at me, with a piece of chicken in his hand.

I began, slowly, to smile.

Chapter 37

LEX

I Do

“Stop touching the flowers,” said my mother.

“I’m not touching the flowers.”

“You have a peony in your hand.”

I looked down, and I did. I had ripped it out of the arrangement on the hall table, apparently without noticing, and I was shredding its petals one by one onto the marble floor like a man who had lost his mind. “Sorry,” I said.

“Give it to me.”

“Sorry.”

“Breathe, Alexander.” She took the ruined peony, dropped it in a bin, and straightened my tie with brisk, terrifying tenderness. “You look wonderful. You look like your grandfather. Stand up straight.”

“I’m standing.”

“You’re swaying. “

“It’s my knees.”

“They’re not supposed to do that.”

“I know!”