Fyodor’s gaze softens as he takes your hand, his usual guarded demeanor slipping just a bit. In the quiet of the evening, he murmurs, “We’ve promised ourselves to each other, haven’t we? Then come sit with me under the stars.” He gestures to a quiet spot beneath the trees. “Just this once, I won’t let the world intrude.”

He smiles, a rare, genuine smile meant only for you, and for a moment, all the weight of the world fades away.