The Violinist Ch. 4

[librasweets]

Title: The Violinist (Ch.4)
Characters/Pairings: RussLat, Ukraine, Lithuania, Popo~
Warning: Fem!Latvia, awkward dinner conversations, Fem!Poland
Summary: Regina Galante arrives at the Braginski mansion, and meets her 'hosts'.

A black muscle car pulled into the winding driveway of the Braginski manor, carefully snaking over the ice. Regina vaguely wondered if this was how convicts felt on their way to a cell. It was like rocks were just piling up in her stomach, one right after the other, suppressing her tears but making her nauseous.

The car stopped slowly, the tires sliding just a little from the snow covering them. Boris got out first, opening the door for Regina in a very gentlemanly manner. The gesture went unnoticed as she shakily climbed out, her little black shoes making a mushy sound as she stepped into slippery mix of old snow and dirt.

Her suitcase was in the hands of the woman, who climbed up the large front steps of the mansion. She didn't even have to knock once; the oak double doors were quickly opened.

Regina lingered behind, staring mindlessly, until Boris bumped against her hard with his shoulder, nearly causing her to lose her footing on the sodden pavement. The older man wore cracked grin as he glanced towards the door. "Let's hurry."

She wanted to say she was perfectly content with staying in the bitter snow until the tears became ice cubes on her eyelids and her hands turned black, but Regina silently followed. The house was massive, beautiful and clearly decades old. She felt intimidated by its looming shadow and dark windows; she'd never seen such a … bitter place. Regina wondered how many members the Braginsky family had, to own such a big house.

The girl was hardly a few steps into the house and she was already amazed. The hallway was magnificent enough- clear pearly tiles, a brilliant chandelier with real candles instead of light bulbs. A thick crimson rug with a gold tassel trim was at the very end of the hallway, where a spiraling staircase that was the brightest shade of white she'd ever seen. Expensive paintings were tastefully placed here and there, not too gaudy but not too plain. Most of them were portraits of stoic-faced soldiers, whom she assumed to be relatives.

Regina couldn't do anything but stumble in the general direction of the woman and Boris. The Latvian didn't want to follow him down the hall, even if he was beckoning her with impatience. Timidly, she began trailed behind him, consciously looking at her scruffy shoes and checking behind her to see if she was tracking dirt.

This obsessive checking led to her being several feet behind Boris, irritating him as he waited at the top of the stairs.

She blushed as she realized he'd been waiting for several minutes. "I-I'm sorry, i-it's just… very big…" She felt plain and stupid. It was a different world.

His bothered expression left, for only a moment. "You really are a village girl."

She tried to brush off his comment and she kept following him, surprised at the equally fine-looking art and décor. She could never imagine affording even the smallest of the sculptures or the dullest of the rugs, and it was then she realized just how wealthy the Braginskis were.

Boris led her to another set of double doors, smaller than the front entrance and made of some sort of dark, molding wood. It was engraved to show a scene of a grassy field, with sunflowers and trees swaying in the wind. The peaceful scene was deeply contrasted with the threatening two-headed eagles on the border of the doors.

For a terrible moment, Regina thought it was Miss Braginski's room. She didn't know what she'd say to the nice woman.

With some difficulty, Boris pushed opened the thick doors, and Regina's stomach instantly shriveled inside itself. It was worse than Miss Braginski's room: Yes, she was there, but so was her brother. And two very unkind-faced older parents, or at least, that's who she supposed they were. The mother had her children's lovely eyes and blonde hair, but the father had many of Ivan's facial features.

Boris gave a respectful bow of the head and gave her suitcase to a young servant that was already in the room. "Take this to her room."

She temporarily ignored the family's steady gaze and whispered, "M-my…?"

Boris coughed loudly, the noise echoing off the walls. "Master Braginski and my lady, I've brought Regina Galante, the one you requested."

Regina's stomach nausea went from ripples to rough churning. She couldn't make eye contact with a single one of them. She looked down at her feet, but her scuffed shoes and old dress only made her confidence worse. Her voice shook as she attempted to speak. "I-I-I… I'm glad to… " She trailed off in silent mumbles.

Mrs. Braginski raised her eyebrows, attempting to decide if Regina was an eyesore or an interesting visitor. Ivan's triumphant expression glowed as his sister bolted from her seat. She went right for Regina, almost tripping over her dress.

"Oh, oh! You really brought her, brother-! And you really came!" She wrapped her arms around Regina, and no better position could emphasize their height and shape difference. Regina was taken aback from the gesture, so she couldn't think of a response. It didn't matter- Yekaterina was chattering.

"I'm so glad, Miss Galante, so glad! I haven't been able to… I mean, I haven't had time- to listen to music. And you're really here, to play for me, just like little Vanya said-!"

"Katyusha, let her sit with us," Her mother gave a fake chuckle and waved her hand airily. Boris quickly drew up a chair by Yekaterina.

"Oh, da, I'm so sorry Miss Galante! Have tea with us." Yekaterina took Regina's shoulder and just about pulled her to the little table. Regina mimicked the taller woman's graceful way of sitting, and she realized with horror that she didn't have the slightest clue of table manners other than 'no elbows' and 'please, thank you'.

Yekaterina kept on talking as Boris poured Regina hot tea. "Re- Miss Galante, you're probably tired. You don't have to come to dinner, if you want…"

"Manners, Yekaterina," Mrs. Braginski said sharply, and Regina saw Yekaterina visibly flinch. "Of course she'll join us. She's a guest." The mother's last few words sounded like she had a sour taste on her tongue. Regina felt herself shrinking under the woman's gaze, Ivan's great stature right next to her and the father's impassive gaze.

"Da, sorry mat- but Miss Galante, what sort of foods do you like?"

"I-I… Well, I-I like any sort…" Regina flushed at the simple question, imagining the dinner to mirror their elaborate house- nothing she was used to. And it was stinging reminder she was leaving her family behind. She looked down at her tea, trying to ignore its bizarre smell and the lump in her throat.

Yekaterina picked up on Regina's sudden shift in mood and had a chance inquire on it, since her mother decided to bring up the most boring but most frequently used topic in their household: The war. Yekaterina didn't consider it a serious conversation, more her parents just complaining bitterly about the US and Ivan making the occasional comment. She felt out of the loop; she wasn't one for politics.

"Miss Galante," Yekaterina spoke softly, sipping at her tea. "I'm really so glad you're here, this place is so dreary."

The young Latvian believed that; now as she looked around, the décor went from grand to just lifeless. Everything was colored dirty pastel and showing age. She hoped it was just this room that was like this. The room was also terribly cold, due to the massive windows around them. Snow was piling up on the panes and Regina shivered despite herself.

"Are you cold?" Yekaterina asked, already removing her own shawl. Regina shook her head quickly but the heavy cloth was wrapped around her shaking frame.

"Th-thank you, M-Miss Br-Braginski…"

Yekaterina smiled warmly and said, "Drink your tea, before it cools."

Regina nodded slowly and drowned out the conversation of the family. Her mind was swirling with questions for Yekaterina. Why did the girl sound so grateful, so surprised she was here? Didn't she know Regina was her prisoner? Then she remembered: 'You really brought her, brother'. It was his idea. But why keep her permanently? Did Miss Braginski love music so much she insisted on having a personal violinist at home? Did they bring other musicians, a whole orchestra?

Her chest ached at the idea of playing all day, everyday. She loved her violin, but she couldn't play it for her whole existence.

Regina thought she was at that table for hours. She was corrected when Lady Braginski put down her cup and curtly said, "Oh, I need to meet with the ladies at five. Will dinner be ready by six?"

"Da, my lady." Boris swiped up her cup. General Braginski took that tea time was over, and quickly stood up. He turned to his son, who was just as eager to leave, "We have plans to go over. Those idiots changed them again."

Only Yekaterina seemed genuinely upset with the tea party dispersing, but she didn't announce any plans. She turned to Regina, wanting to show the guest around the house, and her mother quickly took notice.

"Katyusha, come with me. Miss Petrowa wants to give you some of her dresses."

Yekaterina made a face, just for a second. "Da, mat." She gave Regina a pitiful look.

The Latvian shook, believing she'd be alone in the horribly cold room with no guidance to her own bedroom, but Boris was at her side as the Braginskis filed out. "I'll show you where to go, but only once."

"Sp-spasibo…" She muttered shyly.

Regina's amazement grew with each hallway they passed. They passed by countless doors; she couldn't imagine what they would need so many rooms for. And it seemed like they had painted portraits of every Russian general, commander and czar who ever existed. She'd never find her way in this colossal house.

Boris stopped suddenly in the middle of one of the halls and produced a key from his pocket. Regina was not a very observant girl, but she noticed there was no more stunning art and the walls went from real oak to dingy wallpaper. Her door was also one of the few with a lock. More rocks piled in her stomach.

Boris opened the door wide for her. Timidly, she walked in, and flinched when it was slammed and locked. Now her prison life was starting for real.

Regina looked around and saw everything she needed was provided for. A lovely queen-size bed, a nice dresser, a full-length mirror, even a fireplace and a little bathroom in the corner. Her violin was placed in a lovely case on the dresser; a fancy throw rug was under her feet. There was a sweet bay window with soft pink cushions.

She could've been grateful, in awe, amazed, overjoyed. It was so much cleaner, so bigger than her little room in her cottage.

But Regina couldn't be happy in the slightest. The tears finally began to surface as she fell upon the velvet rug. She was perfectly content with the creaky floors, moth-bitten blankets and cracked windows she was used to. She never wished for money or material things- maybe new shoes or a dress, but nothing more. In her heart, these fine things paled in comparison to her loved home.

Regina was sniffling loudly, trying to hold back sobs in fear of someone finding her. She was too afraid of Boris and whoever else might be in the house to be heard. Her efforts were in horrible vain, because another girl was already in the room.

"Ah! Standing one second and on the floor the next. Are you sick or something?"

Regina's face bolted from her wet sleeves and she was staring directly up at striking green eyes. She gasped and fell back, right on her back.

"Calm down! If you think I'm scary, you are gonna be so uncomfortable for the next … however long you're staying."

The thin girl herself wasn't frightening, it was just that she was in the room the whole time and Regina didn't notice. By the looks of her clothes and weight, she was most likely a lesser servant.

"Get up- oh lord, I'll help." The maid pulled the shaky girl up with little effort. Regina was put off by her appearance. The blonde servant was clearly too skinny and pale to be in good health, a stark contrast to the plump Boris Regina met with earlier. And her clothes were not as well kept as the young woman waiting on the Braginskis before Boris came- the brown dress was frayed at the bottom and littered with ash and stains. She probably was a scullery maid or a superior servant's daughter.

"Wh-who a-ar-are y-y…" Regina began stammering fearfully, and was cut off.

"Felicja, I'm your maid, apparently."

"A-apparently…?"

"Well, they just told me about you coming today, so I didn't have much time to prepare this place, since all the rooms in this hall are filthy and dusty and…" The girl trailed off, and quickly turned away from Regina to sweep fat dust bunnies off the hardwood floor. "You came early. I'm not done."

"I-I'm sorry." Regina nervously fingered the hem of her dress. The girl had a thick Polish accent that was making her Russian difficult to understand.

Felicja hurriedly swept the dust into a pan and dumped it in a little bin next to the bathroom. "Do you know how much of a mess this place was before I got here? Do you know how much filth gets piled up after ten years?"

"T-ten years? Well, n…" Of course, if she could slow down her chattering, it'd be easier…

"A lot! And they send me down here, and I'm supposed to clean up after you till you leave. Which I don't mind, I just think it'd be creepy if someone always cleaned up after me. Followed my every step, scrubbing every footprint I made. That's exactly what Boris said."

"Oh, y-you know Bor…?" And she wasn't really giving Regina a chance to respond…

"If I knew about this earlier… Oh lord, those windows!" She rushed to the bay windows with a wet rag in hand. "If I'd known earlier, I would've changed the sheets. I wouldn't sleep in them, if I were you. That rug is scary too. That's why I thought it was weird when you sat on it."

"Th-the rug?" Regina quickly stepped off it, just noticing the missing patches of velvet and several stains.

The young servant turned quickly and looked Regina up and down. "I'll shine your shoes, if you want. Oh, what're your measurements?"

"My… as in, clothes…?"

"Well, what else? Is that… dress all you packed?"

"I-I brought my gown…" Regina deflated, realizing she'd need something fancier than what she currently had if she was going to be socializing with the Braginskis and their guests everyday.

"Yeah, it is all you have. That's sad, but all I have is this thing." Felicja tugged disdainfully at her soiled uniform and stepped off the bay window couch. "We have a tailor here. He can make you something nice, really fast."

"Th-that's not n-necessary…" A free outfit sounded nice, considering she had no money to buy anything new. But mooching wasn't comfortable to her.

"It is, if you're gonna work here. That's what you're here for, right? To play?" Felicja glanced at the violin case.

"Y-yes…That's what they said…"

"You must be real good, since you're the first one to live here."

As Felicja paused to gather her cleaning supplies into a large bucket, Regina pondered. Why? Couldn't they afford to have more musicians stay? But then again, she wasn't being paid. Did that mean they were going to cover any costs she had, or would she have to get some sort of side job to make her own money? Regina felt weak.

The blonde girl grunted as she lifted the heavy bucket. Her skinny, branch-like arms wobbled but she stood up straight. It seemed she had nothing more to chatter on about, and was slowly realizing how much she talked and what she said. "Um… well, I'll be seeing you later this night… Well, you'll be at dinner, so… maybe tomorrow. " She kept avoiding eye contact.

Regina was surprised by the change in personality, but found it pleasant and much less startling. "Da, sp-spasibo, for everything." She wanted to tell the girl hourly cleaning wasn't necessary, but she felt both of them would get in trouble.

Felicja, feeling very awkward and out-of-place, unlocked the door swiftly. She murmured an inaudible goodbye and left. Regina wondered how she could move so fast while carrying such a heavy weight.

She slowly walked to the bay window, sitting on the stiff cushions. She had no choice but to attend the dinner, the one with the unfamiliar food, high-class guests and the Braginskis. She hoped they wanted her to play, not eat. She could only imagine what embarrassments would occur if she did the latter.

Regina brought her knees up to her chest, staring out at the massive white lawn. It was still snowing and she saw the same car she drove in slowly being buried. She saw a servant go up to it, and even from three stories Regina saw how cold he was as he cleared the snow off the vehicle.

She looked away, around her room. It was dreary. It was missing noise. The clanks of the dishes as her mother washed, the creak of the floorboards as her father walked in his thick boots, and the scolding of her brother when anyone did something that irritated him. All that familiarity replaced with a dripping faucet in the bathroom and the hasty footsteps of servants as they passed her door.

Regina cried silently until Felicja returned to bring her to the dinner.

To her lamentation, they wanted her to sit and dine rather than perform. She'd much prefer the latter, especially since the dining hall and table were too large for a family and a few guests, resulting in uncomfortable silence. Regina wondered if it'd be like this every night.

She sat next to Yekaterina and one of the mother's older friends. The ladies were dressed like their hosts, very simple and modest dresses with fine jewelry and ideal manners. They didn't insult Regina's shabby dress or her lack of make-up, but they didn't talk to her either.

Yekaterina spoke the most, as the ladies were inquiring on her wedding. Regina wanted to congratulate her, but somehow felt it wasn't something to be celebrated. Yekaterina wasn't answering with her typical enthusiasm.

"You're wearing your mother's wedding dress? How nice," One of the ladies said, but it was clear she wasn't impressed.

"I bought some lovely pearls from Italy, Katyusha. I want you to try them on, I think they'd go well with the dress." Another woman said. By the way she and the family talked, it was clear she was the closest with Yekaterina.

Regina's mind began to wander off. She slowly stirred her soup and let herself wander until a commotion was heard at the door. For once during the whole dinner, General Braginski looked up. "Is that…?"

"O-oh god, I'm so late, oh- right, my coat…" A nervous voice echoed through the halls as Boris went to receive the guest. Everyone at the table looked up now, most notably General Braginski and his son. They seemed relieved; it seemed he was a much-anticipated guest.

The doors of the dining room opened and a slender man walked in quickly. He turned on his heels instantly to Mrs. Braginski.

"Ma'am! I-I'm sorry! The ice was unforgiving on my taxi." He gave a warm, sincerely apologetic smile. Mrs. Braginski shed her icy shell, looking at him like a grandmother seeing a favored grandchild.

"It's quite alright Toris. Please sit next to Miss Galante."

Regina jumped a bit, not used to hearing her name and too absorbed in looking at the man. He was good-looking, in a brother sort of way. He nodded his head at her as he sat down, looking over the food hungrily. He spoke with some sort of accent; Regina couldn't tell what it was, and it made his Russian sound lilting and kind.

Instantly the dining room lit up as he began to speak. Apparently he owned a theatre in Moscow, and Mrs. Braginski funded one of the ballet troupes that performed there. He had just gotten back from his home country and decided to stop by.

His manner was so laid back and friendly Regina dared to ask a question, the first time she'd spoke during the dinner.

"M-Mister Lianitis… Wh-where are you from?" She looked directly at him to avoid the noticeable glare from Mrs. Braginski.

"Vilnius, Lithuania. Can you tell?"

"Ny-nyet, I w-was curious." She didn't want to say he pronounced words strange.

"I am too. What's your name?"

Regina looked down quickly, feeling heat going to her cheeks. The only young man to talk to her was Eduard, and she felt everyone looking at her. "Regina Galante," she responded quickly, taking a large mouthful of tea.

"And where are you from?" He asked, genuinely curious.

"Here." Regina swallowed her tea and drank more. If they were alone, she would've said Latvia. She knew from experience that mentioning anything but Russia would've gotten her dirty looks and sour comments. Even if this was polite company, she wouldn't dare.

Toris nodded and said simply, "That's nice. It's lovely here." For some reason, she felt he understood.
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It's been a while since I've posted~ Thank you all who've been reading :DD Sorry if it's slow, the next chapter will be as well, but I have big plans for the sixth!