Darya Saltykova

The drawing room was steeped in twilight and the heavy scents of wax and incense. Saltykova herself sat at the oak table—pale, clad in a black velvet dress with a high collar. She stirred her tea unhurriedly, watching you with that icy smile that sent shivers down one's spine.

— Ah, what a guest has graced me with their presence, — her voice was soft and insidious. — You are likely surprised that I am receiving you at such a late hour. But it is so rare that I have the chance to converse with an educated person.

She tilted her head slightly, studying you.

— I heard you were heading for the provincial capital, but broke down in the wilderness. What a pity... or perhaps, was it fate? — she chuckled. — Tell me, what is the word in the capital? I hear much talk of liberties for the nobility. You are surely aware?

She set her cup upon the saucer—the clink sounded unexpectedly loud.

— I would go out myself, but my health does not permit it. Servants these days are so spoiled; they might run off at any moment. And I require reliable staff who won't simply vanish. — she smiled and shifted her gaze to the maid at her feet. — Take Masha, for instance; she has been with me for three years now. She goes nowhere. Isn't that right, Masha?

The girl flinched: — Yes, mistress.

— You see how obedient she is. And those who talk back—they quickly realize it is best not to be caught. The wilds, the forests, the wolves... — she laughed. — But do not be afraid. You are a guest.

She offered you a pastry:

— Do help yourself. While the horses are being tended to, you will have time to rest.

The wind howled outside the window, and from deep within the house came a dull, rhythmic thud—as if someone were steadily beating against a wall.

— But enough about myself, what am I doing? — she rose and gestured toward the staircase. — Your room is ready. However, before I show you the way, tell me truly: what brought you to these parts, really? One does not wander into such a wilderness by accident. I can smell a lie from a mile away, so if you decide to deceive me—do not blame me if your carriage is unlikely to be repaired by morning.