Black Eyes
Princess Irina entrusted everything to her closest confidant, a friend she could share every detail of her life with—her diary. It was only with this diary that Irina could reveal her fears, her hopes, and her dreams.
Lately, Irina was intrigued by stories she would hear about the goings-on in St. Petersburg; in the parts of the city a grand duke’s daughter would not likely visit. Even though Nana did not leave the palace much, occasionally, on her time off, she would meet with friends from her nursing school days, and Irina was curious to hear all about her outings.
One such evening, a friend of Nana, who was married to an artist, invited her to a café for dinner and music. Nana was careful not to divulge too much to the sheltered princess, but Irina would write everything Nana would share in her diary.
Nana told Irina, “That evening, in the stuffy tobacco-fumed air of the café, a man performed one of the most beautiful songs I ever heard! I asked someone at our table the name of the song, and he said it was called ‘Ochi chyornye.’” (“Black Eyes.”)
Nana continued excitedly, “The man told me he was a Ukrainian and that this romantic Gypsy song is popular where he comes from. He even boasted that he knew all the words by heart.”
Irina, who was captivated by Nana’s story, inquired, “How do you know if he really knew all the words by heart, dear Nana? Could it be that he was just bragging?”
Nana grinned with pride as she explained how she had found out if he was truthful, “Well, I was bold enough to ask him to write the words down on a piece of paper, which he did.”
An enthralled Irina laughed along with Nana at her telling the story. Irina then insisted on seeing the paper. When Nana retrieved it for her, Irina recorded the words in her diary:
Black eyes, passionate eyes
Burning and beautiful eyes!
How I love you, how I fear you,
It seems I met you in an unlucky hour
Oh, not for nothing are you darker than the deep!
I see mourning for my soul in you,
I see a triumphant flame in you:
A poor heart immolated in it.
But I am not sad, I am not sorrowful,
My fate is soothing to me:
All that is best in life that God gave us,
In sacrifice, I returned to the fiery eyes!
Nana confided to Irina, “Every time I see your piano tutor, Monsieur Minbashian, with his beautiful, fiery dark eyes, it reminds me of this song!”
Irina added her own observation in her diary:
Nana has undoubtedly taken a liking to Monsieur Minbashian. I have noticed that lately, her dress is a little more elegant, and her face is somewhat more made up. Even her hair is given a touch more attention on the days he shows up for my piano lessons.
Irina also wrote how Bijou had sullied the Monsieur's shirt and that at first, she felt terrible for him, but that everything had ended in laughter. She noted how surprised she was at her own sudden shift in demeanor, from being almost in tears from his mild scolding to being in tears from laughter. As if reminding herself to practice more during the week, Irina wrote and underlined several times, I will make sure to be prepared to impress him during my next lesson!
And practice she did, many hours each day to the amazement of her mother, for the grand duchess had never seen her daughter so eager to master a lesson. Grand Duchess Xenia was so impressed that she mentioned it to the grand duke, and he also expressed his satisfaction with how events had transpired.
The grand duke chuckled. “Perhaps we should thank the child who bit Madame Lazar’s finger!” He paused briefly in thought and then added, “Monsieur Minbashian carries himself with a certain dignified air, as he has the right balance of respectability and self-assuredness without being immodest. I do enjoy my conversations with him. He seems to have greater experience than his years would indicate.”
The grand duke then offered, “I would like to invite him to dine with us one evening. I think he would consider it an honor. You must admit, my dear Xenia, we have never seen Irene work so diligently in all the years she has been tutored by Madame Lazar.” Grand Duchess Xenia concurred, and they decided to find a suitable time to formally invite him.
The day of the next lesson arrived, and an eager and well-prepared Irina waited with anticipation for Nasrosoltan at the appointed hour. However, the very punctual Monsieur Minbashian did not show up, and even after an hour of Irina waiting for him in the music room, he was nowhere to be found.
Feeling despondent, Irina called for Nana to inquire if she knew of a schedule change. But with just one glance at her governess’s attire, she was reassured that this was, in fact, the day Nasrosoltan was supposed to come. Irina started to wonder if he had been embarrassed and insulted by the events of last week and even worried that he might discontinue tutoring her. As these thoughts began to upset her, the butler walked in with a note Nasrosoltan had sent by courier.
Your Serene Highness, forgive me for missing our appointed lesson today and the lateness with which this note is delivered. Director Glazunov suddenly asked that I audition for him this afternoon, and I had no time to spare except to send you this message. With sincere apologies, until our lesson next week, Minbashian.
Although displeased that she would not see him, Irina was instantly relieved that he had sent a note of apology and found his reason for an excuse to be a valid one. She caught herself missing his presence, as opposed to all the other times when if he had not shown up, she would not have given it a second thought. Evidently, the events of last week had also left an impression on Irina. Even though it was not Nasrosoltan’s intention, his note this day produced acute disappointment in two women in the same household when Nana also learned of the contents.
Later that evening, Irina revisited her diary. However, instead of recording any of the day’s happenings, she found herself reading again with great interest what she had written several entries ago. She looked back at the Ochi chyornye poem Nana shared with her, and as she went over the words, she conjured up the image of Nasrosoltan’s dark eyes, and she fell asleep still clutching her diary.