An Unexpected Guest
After a couple of more visits to Monsieur Dukemejian’s shop to fit his attire and a few evenings of Madame Lazar’s lessons in royal dining etiquette, Nasrosoltan finally felt well-prepared for the palace dinner. He was excited and nervous, wanting to make an excellent impression in this formal setting, but above all, he did not want to commit any social blunder.
He was comforted by Irina’s assurance that her mother disliked pomp and ceremony and that she found the glittering Russian court life to be an ordeal. Irina also mentioned that the grand duchess enjoyed intimate gatherings at their home instead, and he reasoned this meant it would be a comparatively quiet dinner without much formality.
As his carriage approached the palace gates, Nasrosoltan noticed a large retinue of bodyguards. This evening, he was not waved through as was customary. Each carriage was stopped, and identification and invitations were thoroughly checked.
Nasrosoltan was surprised to see such security measures in place. He assumed it was careful diligence on the part of the royal family due to the recent disturbances that had killed many, including his friend Rustam. His carriage passed through without incident, and he disembarked and was escorted into the palace, where to his surprise once more, he noticed additional security, including Imperial Guards.
Nasrosoltan was greeted by the grand duke, who welcomed him in and announced, “I am sure you have noticed the high security at the palace. We are honored that His Imperial Majesty, Tsar Nicholas, has decided to join us unexpectedly for dinner. When there is a chance, I would like to introduce you to him.”
Nasrosoltan thanked him, and the grand duke continued, “His Majesty is eager for the princess to perform something for him after dinner. I am sure your presence here tonight will add to her confidence. But I must say, it has been your instruction these past few months that has given her a renewed interest in music, and we are thankful that she takes it so seriously now.”
After the grand duke moved to the next room, Nasrosoltan was left standing alone, and he became self-conscious and even more nervous. He had never expected the tsar to be there that night, and above all, to be sitting at the same dinner table with him.
It was a small gathering, with only about a dozen other guests in addition to the tsar. Amongst them were two young royal family members to whom he was later introduced. The first was a flamboyant man who Nasrosoltan learned was Felix Yusupov, the prince mentioned by the tailor. The second man was Grand Duke Dmitri Pavlovich, a first cousin to the tsar, tall and well built like most Romanovs. Nasrosoltan already knew that Yusupov had a romantic interest in Irina, but he soon realized that Grand Duke Dmitri was also an admirer.
Since Irina’s father had earlier mentioned how Nasrosoltan’s presence would make his daughter feel at ease, he wondered whether his invitation was simply to make her more comfortable performing that evening. And, perhaps, not only for the tsar but to Nasrosoltan’s chagrin, especially for these potential suitors.
As soon as these disturbing thoughts attempted to derail his confidence, Princess Irina entered the room. She looked around and nodded her head, acknowledging each guest, and then looked in Nasrosoltan’s direction and offered him a hurried smile, trying to avoid the attention of others.
Irina looked stunning, outfitted in an alluring evening dress of apricot velvet, and carrying herself with an elegance befitting a princess. Her quick glance toward Nasrosoltan with a reassuring smile confirmed her feelings for him.
At some point before dinner, from the other side of the room, Nasrosoltan’s attention became fixated on Prince Yusupov and Grand Duke Dmitri. The two men had cornered Irina near the fireplace as they chatted and laughed together, and by all appearances, it seemed they were having a grand time. He was besieged with envy and extremely displeased to see the way they vied for Irina’s attention. But from a distance, it seemed to him that this sheltered and innocent princess was blind to their exuberant efforts, and she was not as savvy at these games of flirtation, in which these two royals were well skilled.
Then the grand duke entered the room and made his way to Nasrosoltan. “Monsieur, let us go, it is time.”
Nasrosoltan followed him to the dining room, as did the other guests. To the visible excitement of Irina, the grand duke introduced Nasrosoltan to the tsar. “I would like to present to His Imperial Majesty Monsieur Nasrosoltan Minbashian, who is from the empire of Persia and is a student at the conservatory. His father studied with our dear Nikolai Andreyevich Rimsky-Korsakov. We are grateful that a man from such a noble musical lineage has tutored our dear Irina Alexandrovna these past few months.”
The tsar treated him with honor and kindness and mentioned that he was eager to hear his niece perform after dinner.
With a bow to show his respect, Nasrosoltan replied, “I am certain Her Serene Highness will not disappoint His Imperial Majesty. I believe the princess deserves great praise for her talent.”
Hearing this, Irina beamed with joy and nervous energy, as she was apprehensive at the thought of performing in front of an audience.
At dinner, Nasrosoltan was seated between Prince Yusupov and Grand Duke Dmitri. The grand duke did not say much, but Prince Yusupov seemed to enjoy talking with Nasrosoltan, who found Prince Yusupov to be charming but also a man of many contradictions. The prince showed much interest in Persia and was curious about life there. He mentioned in passing that even though he had never visited Persia, his residence, the Yusupov Palace, had a bit of Nasrosoltan’s homeland in it. “We have a room we call the Persian Room; it is saturated with the aroma of your exotic country and has divans all along the walls draped in colorful Persian fabrics.”
Nasrosoltan smiled but said nothing. After a short pause, the prince continued with his small talk, turning his attention to the topic of music. Having heard Princess Irina’s father introduce Nasrosoltan to the tsar, Prince Yusupov said, “You know, Monsieur, I am also fond of music. Our family has maintained a private orchestra for many years now. Since I rather enjoy American popular music, I recently suggested they add a saxophone section to the violins and cellos.”
Even though Nasrosoltan thought it was a bad idea for the prince to have introduced this newfangled hybrid to his orchestra, he politely responded, “That was a bold move.”
The prince smiled, assuming it was a compliment. Attempting to flatter Nasrosoltan, the prince quickly added with a laugh, “Of course, I do not presume to understand music such as one who has studied with the masters at the conservatory!”
In a contest for Irina’s affections, Nasrosoltan would surely not worry about going up against the pretentious Prince Yusupov. Nasrosoltan was more threatened by Grand Duke Dmitri, who was quite handsome and less conceited. Dmitri also lived with the imperial family at Alexander Palace in Tsarskoe Selo, and Nasrosoltan had even heard rumors that the grand duke was a favorite of the tsar.
Nasrosoltan’s emotions fluctuated during dinner between the now-faint hope that he could attain a permanent place in Irina’s heart, and the awareness that he was considered a commoner by the royalty surrounding him. He knew full well that such an affiliation would not be tolerated by them, as he continued the exhausting battle between head and heart while unknowingly being carried forward on a wave of destiny.
As the dinner progressed, the rising political turmoil dominated the discussion. The dinner guests talked about the disturbances of the last few weeks and the many strikes and demonstrations that had become more prevalent. Most of the guests dismissed the real reasons for such widespread discontent, viewing these protests as merely the workers’ ungratefulness toward the tsar’s recent reforms.
The grand duke addressed the tsar. “Your Imperial Majesty has surely heard the news of the businessman who was tragically killed a few weeks ago, during some agitation at the Ministry of Commerce. He was a dear friend of Monsieur Minbashian and was struck by a stray bullet. Just to think, had he not gone there that day to meet with the minister, he would still be alive today. It amazes me how one can alter his own destiny without knowing it.”
Then, turning to Nasrosoltan, the grand duke said, “Monsieur Minbashian, I am sure you must agree.”
As if awakened from his thoughts, Nasrosoltan was not prepared for this direct question and initially did not respond. An awkward silence followed, and Nasrosoltan felt he had to say something. In an unexpectedly bold manner, he offered the grand duke an answer that reflected his change of heart with regard to destiny from what he had earlier believed.
“Your Imperial Highness, forgive me, but I do beg to differ, for I feel destiny cannot be altered.”
Upon hearing this surprising contradiction to the grand duke’s statement, all eyes turned to Nasrosoltan. Suddenly self-conscious and feeling like an outsider, he decided to defend his pronouncement by explaining himself further. “We Persians believe whatever kismet or fate decides, it will achieve, and no man can change that. This was the day my good friend was to die, be it by a bullet or some other means. It was so written long before he was even born.”
At hearing Nasrosoltan’s reasoning, there were some nods of approval, but then the grand duke replied, “Why do you believe this, Monsieur? I, on the contrary, believe that men, with their own determination and persistence, can change the course of life events. I would be interested to hear a convincing reason as to why you think otherwise?”
Nasrosoltan had not intended to be the focus of attention in this intimidating setting; however, he had no choice but to go on. “Perhaps if the esteemed guests permit, for I do not wish to dominate the conversation, I may be able to better explain why I believe so by sharing an old Persian fable.”
The guests seemed to show interest at the suggestion of hearing the tale, so the grand duke encouraged him to continue. “Please do, Monsieur!”
Nasrosoltan proceeded, now addressing the whole table, to tell his story. “One day, as a nobleman walks through a Persian bazaar, he notices in the distance the Archangel of Death coming towards him with a surprised look on his face. The man, realizing the Archangel’s intention to take his soul, flees quickly.
“He then immediately seeks an audience with the shah and begs for an appointment to a land far away, so he will not be anywhere near the Archangel. After much insistence on this man's part, the shah finally grants him his wish and appoints him as an envoy to India. It takes the man two months to travel to Delhi. Once there, no longer feeling distressed and believing he is far out of danger’s reach, he decides to go for a walk and ends up at the market.
“Surprisingly, again, he comes face-to-face with the Archangel, who was waiting for him, prepared to take his soul and return it to God. The awestruck man says to him, ‘How can this be; I thought you were in Persia!’
“The Archangel of Death responds, ‘I am also surprised to see you here. When I saw you in Persia at the bazaar a few months ago, I looked at my list, and it said that I was to take your soul a few months later, in a market in India! At that moment, I thought to myself, how could that be possible? For surely you were never going to be able to get so far away in so little time.’”
Nasrosoltan turned to the grand duke. “Therefore, Your Imperial Highness, even though this man tried to change his own destiny, it was kismet that he has a hand in his own unalterable demise.”
The dinner guests laughed at his telling of this story, and the tsar, who seemed to be a fatalistic man, said in a light-hearted tone, “I agree, one cannot argue with the will of God. Well said, Monsieur!”
The grand duke turned to the tsar, raised his glass, and declared, “Then we drink a toast to kismet, in thanks that he has blessed Mother Russia with His Imperial Majesty, our revered tsar. May God always protect him and this wonderful country he rules!”
After the toast in his honor, the tsar then got up from his seat, signaling to the guests at the table that dinner had ended. As they all rose, Nasrosoltan went along with the other men behind the tsar to retire to another room for after-dinner digestifs. But no matter how interesting the conversation, Nasrosoltan longed to be elsewhere, in the presence of Irina, who had withdrawn with the ladies to the music room, preparing to perform for the tsar.
After some drinks and conversation, the men joined the ladies in the music room. The tsar seated himself ahead of the others and motioned that those standing out of respect could now have a seat. Nasrosoltan was in the far back, and Irina, who exhibited an air of timidity, sat at the piano alongside the page-turner, ready to perform.
Nasrosoltan could not help but notice how stunning Irina looked, and with all eyes on her, even her demureness was refreshing. He hoped she would flawlessly perform whatever piece she had decided to play.
Before Irina began, she turned to the tsar. “Dear Uncle, I would like to play Schubert’s Fantasia. Since it is a piano work written for four hands, will you allow Monsieur Minbashian to accompany me to perform it for you?”
Nasrosoltan was startled since he was not expecting such a request on her part. He hesitated, unsure of what to do. To Irina’s delight, all it took was the tsar’s approval, who turned around, looking back over his shoulder at Nasrosoltan. The other guests in attendance turned toward him as well, and the tsar smiled, saying, “It seems kismet dictates you also perform this evening, Monsieur,” as he motioned Nasrosoltan to come forth.
Then, with all eyes fixed on him and Irina’s enticing smile to coax him, Nasrosoltan got up from his seat in the back of the room. He moved slowly and with great focus past the other guests to take his place next to her at the foot of the Tischner.
Once they began to play, it was evident they had practiced often, even though Irina was nervous and played her part a bit hard. Nonetheless, they were able to catch the magical essence of the composition.
As their fingers touched on the keyboard, their anxiety gave way to exhilaration, which was reflected in the beauty of their performance. With every note, their confidence grew, as did the grace and elegance of their playing, to the point that the two were in such unison that they almost forgot where they were, performing for the tsar of Imperial Russia. Instead, they solely cared that they were seated side by side, close together, only aware of each other’s movements at the keyboard.
The guests were completely silent. The audience was mesmerized by the music, as they had not expected to experience such an exquisite performance this evening.
Around ten minutes into the piece, as written by the composer, Nasrosoltan completely removed his hands from the keyboard for a brief instant and rejoined Irina on the piano with his right hand only. Then with that one hand, he played several notes in between her two hands, which were still also playing in perfect harmony. This very intimate dance of his hand moving between hers, and the musical ecstasy they were engulfed in, was witnessed not only by the page-turner sitting at their side, but also some in the audience from the right vantage point.
After they finished their performance of the Fantasia, the tsar rose from his seat and began to eagerly applaud his niece’s performance, exclaiming, “Brava, brava, my dear Irina Alexandrovna,” followed by a long ovation from the guests.
They both got up from the piano and paid the appropriate respects, with a bow on his behalf and a curtsy on hers. Then the grand duke approached Nasrosoltan and shook his hand in appreciation for his inspired work with his daughter.
Irina’s remarkable and passionate performance only added to the two suitors’ desire for her, and Nasrosoltan even sensed a hint of jealousy directed his way, which ignited his burgeoning confidence.
Confidence is a curious thing, for it sometimes appears out of nowhere and departs the same way. One cannot acquire it with money, though some try, and it cannot be stored for use on a day when it is needed most. Sometimes confidence breeds confidence; as the more one displays it, the more others find it within themselves. However, it is not contagious, for sometimes the more one exudes it, it can have the opposite effect and lessen it in others. Confidence leaves no room for jealousy, for when one feels absolute greatness, there is no need to have hatred toward another. And after such a splendid duet at the piano, Nasrosoltan even felt a bit overconfident. It seemed he had finally broken out of the doubter’s castle.
Taking in the moment, Nasrosoltan thought, Why can’t a commoner gain access to a princess’s heart? Why can’t I be the first to breast the tape in this race?
Prince Yusupov, who had been watching from afar and listening to them perform with fixed attention, drew closer to them and congratulated Irina on her exemplary performance.
While the princess was speaking to the tsar, Prince Yusupov turned to Nasrosoltan, gently pulling him aside, placing his hand on his shoulder in a friendlier manner than their relationship dictated. As this imposing gesture demanded Nasrosoltan’s full attention, Prince Yusupov lingered while Nasrosoltan waited for him to speak.
Looking directly into Nasrosoltan’s eyes, the prince said, “It is truly heartening to see our dear Princess Irina Alexandrovna blossoming under your tutelage. That Her Serene Highness has so excelled on this count vouches for the passion your teaching has elicited from her. We in the audience were overwhelmed and aroused by the same feeling of excitement you both exhibited during the magnificent performance.”
Then, as if confiding a great secret, the prince moved in closer, with the real intent of encircling and probing for a weakness in Nasrosoltan’s defenses.
“Monsieur, please understand that the same passions you have enkindled within her through your lessons may be misconstrued as something more intimate by an innocent and sheltered princess such as she.”
He paused briefly to choose his next words carefully. As if he was a cherub with a flaming sword, flashing it back and forth to guard Irina against Nasrosoltan, the prince added this stunning final blow in hopes of turning him away: “In this case, therefore, it may be best for all involved if one does not venture above and beyond the call of duty!”
Nasrosoltan, who just a few moments ago brimmed with confidence, was wholly unprepared for the prince’s warning. This tacit threat made Nasrosoltan suddenly feel most vulnerable when he had felt invincible. The tough-hitting words of the prince were like a dagger tearing into the veil of secrecy of his and Irina’s relationship, shredding it to pieces. Nasrosoltan wondered whether this threatened prince may expose what others did not yet know about his and Irina’s feelings for each other.
Nasrosoltan loathed the way Yusupov had addressed him and wanted nothing more than to offer a strong response. But he knew better, recognizing that he was powerless, and it was neither the time nor the place. Deciding that the best reply was to not show he was flustered, Nasrosoltan brushed off the prince’s words as though he did not even hear them.
Trying hard to maintain his composure, Nasrosoltan replied, “I am gratified you enjoyed the performance this evening; it was an honor to make your acquaintance.” He then quickly excused himself and left the room.
Prince Yusupov imagined that one blow from his verbal dagger would smite to death Nasrosoltan’s ambitions forever. But, unbeknownst to Yusupov, his intention to destroy Nasrosoltan’s resolve had launched a mightier weapon, a catapult, breaking down the walls protecting the realm of fantasy Nasrosoltan was living in. The prince’s powerful and destructive words did not have the desired effect of making Nasrosoltan fearful so that he would contemplate retreat. Instead, to Nasrosoltan’s own amazement, this conversation had the opposite effect, giving him a sense of welcome relief.
For the first time, someone else had discovered what only Nasrosoltan and Irina knew, and he seemed to no longer fear that their secret may be revealed. He decided not to be intimidated any longer by such worries, finding no reason to recoil.
Nasrosoltan recalled Rustam’s advice years ago about life and determined to do what his friend had suggested by playing the cards where they might fall. The prince called for Nasrosoltan’s surrender, but this, he now swore to himself, he would never do.
Yusupov believed his words had stormed the very fortress Nasrosoltan and Irina had taken shelter in. But by doing so, the prince had instead released this amorous reverie out of their castle in the air, to no longer be trapped there. And now it was unleashed and free to roam the real world.