He described everything in such detail, with such genuine enthusiasm, as if I were a reporter and he a famous restaurateur. Well, maybe he will be one soon.

– I believe he will. It's very cosy in here. You're a great one," I complimented with a smile. – I like it very much. And those wreaths on the walls… Reminds me of my youth.

– Welcome to the past, my dear. I'd like to treat you to something special, but I'm afraid you won't appreciate it," my brother smirked.

He knew I had never tasted, nor had I any desire to taste the food of mortals.

– You know I prefer to drink wine," I winked at him. – But don't tell me you're a cook now.

– No, our cook is Maya.

– Polish?

– Yes, and she has golden hands.

– All by herself in this big room?

– Boris, her son, comes in at five. Also a cook. Yes, and two more waiters.

– You've got it all worked out. You're a born businessman! – I patted Martin on the shoulder.

My wet hair on my back made my T-shirt wet too. It was disgusting to sit there in wet clothes and sneakers. I ran my palm over the back of my head. – Shit. I felt like I'd crawled out of the bathtub.

– What were you doing outside in this weather? – Martin asked.

– Walking," I answered honestly. It was true. Although I preferred not to reveal the reason for the walk. – You advised me to walk around the city.

– And?

– You were right: it's cosy and beautiful. But I couldn't live here. It's too boring.

– Yes, you're a child of megacities.

– Maybe," I grinned. – Small towns suffocate me. But it's nice here. By the way, how did you meet Ales? He's such a nice man.

– I thought about having wine with him, but he started telling me about his son. He's doing his best for him. So I changed my mind. And the wine has gone a bit sour with age… When I become a father, I will also try for my children. – Martin smiled indulgently. – What's going on with you?

– What? – I was surprised by his question and the seriousness of his face. – I'm fine.

– You can't stand the humidity and you don't go out in the rain," Martin said flatly.

– I'm leaving tonight. – I said it just to get him off my back. But now I'd really have to buy a ticket. – So I don't have time to wait for the weather.

– Where to? My brother squinted his eyes.

– Toronto. Elle sent me a booking for a shoot. – Luckily, I didn't have to lie here.

– When?

– Tuesday.

– And you're flying out in a week? – he grinned.

– Do you suspect me of something? – I asked ironically.

– Yes. I know you, Maria. Probably better than you think.

– I'm not lying to you.

– Are you sure you're all right?

– Yes!" I said with a laugh.

– Are you sure?

– Yes!

– If you had a problem or felt unhappy, would you tell me?

– Yes!" I lied, looking into his eyes. I lied to him. To Martin. Right in his eyes. How low my maimed soul is! – Don't worry about me. – And to avoid further unpleasant conversation, I asked: – Are you driving today?

– Yeah.

– Take me to the hotel.

– Would you like to keep me company for a few more hours? – Martin asked in a sad tone.

– I'm sorry, darling, but I have a suitcase to pack. Besides, I'm not wearing any make-up.

– I noticed. That's why I know you're not well.

– You're doing it again! – I let out a chuckle and got up from my chair hurriedly. – Give me my rain jacket. I have to return it to reception.

Martin looked at me suspiciously, but gave me back my mackintosh. We walked out to the backyard, quickly hopped into his Snowman and rushed to the hotel. On the way, I asked him to tell me about why he suddenly decided to open his own restaurant. And he was so engrossed in his own story that I made it to the hotel without his harassing questions about my life.

– If you get tired of your boring life here, come visit me in Toronto," I said goodbye and kissed him on the cheek.

– Shall I take you to the airport? – Martin asked.

– No need, thank you. I'll hire a taxi.

– Ales can drive you. What time is your flight?

Dammit! I don't have a ticket yet, and I don't know what time it is!

– Nine fifteen, but it might be delayed,'' I said. – Give me his number, I'll call him myself after I've contacted the airport.

My answer satisfied Martin. He gave me Ales' number, I kissed his cheek again, got out of the car and walked quickly into the hotel.

"I need to buy a ticket right away," I thought as I walked up the stairs after handing my wet mackintosh to the front desk. The receptionist gave me a surprised look and her eyes rounded. Like I was crazy to go out in this weather!

Luckily, I found a ticket. Ten twenty.

Ales picked me up from the hotel at eight.

1904. Warsaw. Four hundredth wedding anniversary of our parents.

Martin, Mscislav, me and Mariszka. Misha does not yet exist.

Mariszka and I are standing in a huge ballroom full of guests. We are wearing dresses from that shouty and boring era. Mariszka's dress is elegant, almost austere. Mine – bare shoulders and deep cleavage. In our hair, arranged in high bouffant hairstyles – artificial flowers. Mariszka has tiny blue violets. I have big red roses. My neck is adorned with a gold necklace with a red stone.

We watch the guests waltz, and I'm tempted to waltz too, but only with the one man I was flirting with five minutes ago. Markus Morgan. But I wasn't interested in him, no. I was only flirting with him because Mariszka is in love with him. But that's a secret only our mother and I know. And I took a keen pleasure in using that fact to annoy my little sister. And now she's standing there with her soul full of burning hatred for me. You can see it in her eyes. Doesn't speak to me. Doesn't look at me. Oh, the pleasure. The pleasure of humiliating her, this nun, this nun. Everyone's saying how modest and elegant she is. Well, with her qualities, her foolish love for Markus Morgan seems ridiculous, because he's a bad boy. He'd never look at someone like Mariszka. But I'm indifferent to him, I just want to get on my sister's nerves who's in love with him. And she's so easy to humiliate. To exploit her secret.

But Markus is busy dancing with his maternal cousin.

I feel someone's eyes on me.

Mum looks at me with a frown. I smile back at her and send her an air kiss.

Mariszka is being taken away to dance by Martin. He always cares about us, his sisters. But more for the youngest.

I am led into the circle of dancers by the beautiful vampire William Ruark Gordon, and we twirl in a smooth dance, discussing the latest news and laughing.

The next day, in the evening, we sit in the main hall, listening to a quartet of violinists. So terribly mannered, elegant. It's disgusting. Pretending to be aesthetes.

Mariszka's not here. She hasn't left her room since this morning.

This fact amuses me, and I realise with a thrill of pleasure that my goal of yesterday has been achieved.

– Please excuse us, boys. Maria and I are going for a walk," I suddenly hear my mother's voice.

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. That's it! How interesting to learn that I, without my knowledge, was going for a walk!

But, smiling at my mother, I rise from my chair and straighten the folds of the hem of my beautiful dress. Mum and I leave the castle and walk slowly down the well-maintained, flat stone lined path. We walk far away from our castle. Hand in hand. Silent. After a while our heels clack against the stones of the wide bridge that connects our vast estate with the rest of Warsaw.

Suddenly Mum stops and releases her hand from mine.

– Mariszka cried all night," Mum says quietly.

I glance at my mother: her face is full of sternness and sullenness.