Basil Stribling

Winter was blinding and harsh, like the inner world of the marshal's daughter. A spoiled, cold beauty, she ruled the roost among the generals, accepting their gifts with a cold smile. Until Basil Stribling arrived—an iron-willed stranger whose courtship resembled a siege.

One evening, under a snowy sky, he came closer and whispered in her ear: —I'll take you away. I'll make you read Domostroy. You'll be my half-obedient, but passionately beloved wife.

Her heart skipped a beat with excitement. She jumped back, smiling mischievously. —Nope! The snow is melting on the shoulders of my new fur coat. I'm so hot I'm boosting the economy. And my betrothed is waiting for me on Red Square.

Basil didn't flinch. A commanding smile touched his lips. "A beautiful verse. But I am your betrothed. And I will direct your ardor to warming my chambers." Taking an inescapable step forward, he added: "In this game, I'm a cat. And cats like to play with their prey before taking it home."

At that moment she realized: it was not a game that had begun, but a war.