Richard turned onto his side, facing her. She felt his gaze on her skin, but she had already closed her eyes and didnt speak words would not have come easy to her.
Sleep.
Mm-hmm, Alexandra replied with a mix of annoyance and resignation.
When she held that glass in her hands, she felt dread if she were a cat, her fur would have stood on end. She sensed danger and so did he. He distracted her. Intentionally or unintentionally, it no longer mattered.
Intuition doesnt lie; a beast does not deceive itself.
If intuition were to be trusted, this Richard needs to piss off And at the same time, she managed to see something real under the thick layer of his makeup when he said he wanted to become himself.
Alexandra opened her eyes and looked at him. His eyelids were closed, his expression smooth, his round bare shoulder in the semi-darkness, with a long old scar snaking down it he resembled an anatomy template for a painter; tomorrow, hell probably have stubble, his face will have creases from the pillow
Who the hell are you, Richard North?
She would see and find everything out in her dreams the most important thing now was to sleep.
9. Circus
[Great Britain, London, Soho]
Arent you going to at least ask where we are?
The young man in a late 16th-century suit sat at an elongated glass table, his legs crossed, his pointed shoes resting on the tabletop, his full-lipped face smiling.
No, Alexandra shrugged. Does it matter?
Everything matters.
In front of him stood a bottle labelless and dust-covered and three goblets.
The young man pointed at the bottle, and Alexandra shook her head. No, Christopher, I cant stand this wine anymore.
Now it was Christophers turn to express disapproval.
Such faint-heartedness! he snorted with a mischievous smirk and clicked his tongue.
Are we waiting for William?
Yeah. Hes running late a huge commission for Dante engravings.
Alexandra took a seat with her back to the white canvas of the projector screen and looked around. It was a typical conference room for about a dozen people, with a glass door, tall windows through which, if the lamps inside were off, sparse lights from the building across and the glow of streetlamps could be seen.
I can give you a hint about where we are! Christopher persisted.
Go ahead.
Christopher was charming, the way brown-eyed young men, artistic, having had their fair share of entertainment, success and emotion, gifted with rich intellect, can be charming.
We, he theatrically gestured with his hands, are at the circus!
At the circus?
Why specify?
To understand and remember. I might have to write this down in the red book later.
Youll remember everything; dont underestimate yourself. Forgetting certain things is your defense, a trick of your own mind. You hold the keys.
Alexandra leaned her elbows on the glass surface, sighed in the same theatrical style as her interlocutor. They exchanged glances, chuckled, and Christopher continued to rock in his chair, leaning back with his legs still on the table.
What kind of beasts are there in the circus? Alexandra asked.
Oh, the young man said with a conspiratorial look. Various ones.
Are we part of the circus too?
No. We live in the wild no one forces us to jump through fiery hoops, dance for a piece of sugar or dental insurance
Poor animals.
You dont say! They dream of being themselves, but theyre not allowed to.
Alexandra frowned, Christopher didnt consider her contemplation a hindrance to their conversation.
By the way, you promised to find me a partron, he mentioned.
I remember.
Hows that going?
Christopher, where am I supposed to just find you a spy gathering intel for the British Queen in France?
The young man didnt have a chance to respond. They both turned to the glass door simultaneously as an older man entered.
William! Alexandra threw her hands up, getting up from her chair.
Christopher continued rocking.
William was of short stature but youthful and robust, his posture straight, he was dressed in an early 19th-century suit. People like him always drew attention to themselves as soon as they entered a room.
Alexandra! he mirrored her tone.
How are you? Hows Catherine? Hows Dante?
Good, Catherine is my hope and support, and Dante is a work in progress.
Their embrace was warm and friendly, Alexandra immediately livened up Christopher, on the other hand, squinted.
You didnt hug me!
Because youre not her partron, William replied forgivingly, as if speaking to a child.
Dont worry, Ill hug you too.
Alexandra walked around Christopher and positioned herself so she could lean down with her arms outstretched, while Christopher continued to lean further back.
Circus, William commented as he walked further inside and sat in Alexandras chair.
She never did get the chance to hug Christopher both of his chairs legs slipped on the linoleum, he fell to the ground with a loud crash.
While Alexandra helped him up, William, lost in thought as Alexandra was before him looked off into the distance, past the bottle and the three goblets.
Even if you dont like chess, youre already playing, William began when the woman and the young man finally settled down at the table. Youre on the board.
He pressed his finger on the glass surface of the table, and Christopher swallowed.
Both of you are playing you and Christophers partron.
They exchanged glances. William continued.
Nows your move, Alexandra. Such is the nature of the game you represent the forces of chaos.
And me? Christopher widened his eyes.
Your partron desperately clings to order, but soon he will understand that there will be no more old order because he has already begun his path to becoming.
Hooray! Christopher exclaimed. I mean, I hope it doesnt tear him apart and all, and Ill finally get to meet him.
So whats going to be my move? Alexandra spoke.
Any it depends on your wish to move the plot along. To push whats already moving.
Christophers partron, Alexandra concluded. He came into motion.
William nodded.
So I need the one who acts in a circus, jumps through fiery hoops, spies for the British Queen, and hes on the first stage of the Great Work already?
Exactly, William agreed.
What should I do with the wine and the fact that someone wanted to kill me?
Trust your intuition. They didnt intend to kill you it was a counter-move, an attempt to provoke a reaction.
Why a counter-move?
Youre successful, Christopher answered for William. Theyre afraid of your radiance. Your existence is like a red flag to them.
After what happened, there will be even more resonance.
Theyre foolish. Theyve read your books, but they didnt understand anything.
Thats how it always goes
Our lot, Alexandra, is to be out of time and place in our era, William rose from the chair, adjusted his jackets lapels. And to get slaps on the back of our heads from those who speak a different language.
Its a wordplay, Christopher added. They can speak our language just fine.
Christopher repeated after William as he stood, Alexandra watched them walk to the exit, as always, no goodbyes.
The young man turned around.
Circus, he reminded.
Alexandra nodded. When they disappeared, she mouthed the word to make sure she remembers.
10. Breakfast
[Great Britain, London, City of Westminster]
Alexandra was in the bathroom, Richard was leafing through the red notebook that she left on the table, brows furrowed on his handsome face. The words arranged into formulas, in English and Russian, the notes were divided into chapters, sectioned by associative array.
Keys, lists of names and phrases sorted by the stages of the Great Work, according to her system of symbols Turning the notebook over and opening it on the other side, Richard found conventional notes, sorted chronologically.