The late afternoon sun cast long, golden shadows across the gravel paths of the Alexander Park. From her usual bench, hidden partly by the thick branches of a lilac bush, Maria watched the familiar routine. Her eyes, as they often did, found one figure in particular: Officer Aleksandr.

There was a quiet stillness about him that she found captivating. He was young, with a lean build and a face that was more kind than strictly handsome. There was an unusual delicacy to his features - high cheekbones, a slender nose, and thoughtful eyes - that made his military bearing seem graceful.

Tonight, as the sky began to blush with the colours of dusk, Maria gathered her courage. She stood, smoothing down her simple dress, and walked towards the secluded post he often occupied near the small iron bridge. Her heart beat a little faster against her ribs.

"Good evening, Officer Aleksandr," she said, her voice softer than she intended.

He turned, and a respectful smile touched his lips as he bowed his head. "Your Imperial Highness."

The formal title always made her feel a little awkward. She preferred it when he simply listened. She stood beside him for a moment, looking out at the pond where the first stars were beginning to shimmer in the reflection.

"The weather is turning cooler," she remarked, folding her arms against the evening chill. "I hope your greatcoat is warm enough." It was a bold, personal thing to ask, and she felt a warmth rise in her cheeks.

"Perfectly adequate, Your Highness. Thank you for your concern," he replied, his voice always so calm and measured.

Another silence fell, but it was not uncomfortable. Maria fidgeted with a loose thread on her sleeve. There was a question she had been turning over in her mind for days, a silly, girlish curiosity she couldn't suppress.

"Officer Aleksandr?" she began, her gaze fixed on the darkening water. "May I ask you something… perhaps a little impertinent?"

"Of course, Your Highness."

She took a small breath. "It is just… your hands. They are so… slender. And your handwriting, on the duty roster I saw the other day, it is so elegant. Not at all like my brother's scrawl, or the other officers." She dared a quick glance at him, her curiosity overcoming her shyness. "Did you… did you study art? Or perhaps music, before your service?"

It was the only explanation she could conjure for such grace in a soldier. The question hung in the air between them, a testament to her innocent attempt to understand the quiet young man who occupied so many of her thoughts, completely unaware of the truth she was piecing together.