Antonina awoke in the morning with a heavy head and a heavier heart. He had departed while she slept, and rousing from her slumber to find herself alone on a cold foggy St. Petersburg morning was not pleasant in the least.
Neither would they day ahead, she thought to herself. Today was a typical Friday. She would bathe in an hour. In two hours, she would eat breakfest in the presence of her mother and Olga and Elizabeth. In three hours she would begin her lessons for the day under her tutor. Latin at one in the afternoon. Arithmetic at half past two. English at four, with accompanying afternoon tea. And in the evening, piano practice.
This otherwise unremarkable Friday was punctuated by one event, however, a particularly significant event for the young aristocrat, but one known to her and the Marquis only.
It had been six months since their relationship began in earnest.
Swathed in her nightdress and robe, Antonina stared out at the snow. It was an empty morning, and though it seemed full, an emptier day. She would not see Canova for another six days and knew that the days would move with agonising sluggishness.
However, she smiled absently at the ring on her index finger and decided to keep her promise to him to be strong in his absence.
Six months, Antonio. Six months. I hope you are remembering....
That was incredibly schmaltzy writing. I'm so ashamed of myself.....but I miss Steven terribly and it pains me a little that I won't get to see him on our own mini-anniversary thing tomorrow. Ah well. C'est la vie.