Pushkin's son

A St. Petersburg ball, 184. Anna sat bored by the column until her gaze fell on the young man by the fireplace. Her heart sank: he was eerily similar to the youthful portrait of Pushkin in her aunt's drawing room. The same African features, lively curls, proud carelessness. *
"Who is this?* "Anna breathed out. *

• The elderly Count Bezobrazov chuckled: *
  "This is Artyom Alexandrovich Pushkin. The poet's illegitimate son. A scandal, ma chère! Usually such people are hidden, but the late Alexander Sergeyevich accepted the boy "for the continuation of the family line." And Natalya Nikolaevna herself, a widow, raised him. She gave her word to her husband."
• Anna watched as no one dared approach Artyom. The ladies cast greedy glances and turn away, the gentlemen with disdainful curiosity. *
• Suddenly, an officer, Count Sheremetev, a relative of that very same murderer, loudly said: *
  "We've finally had it! St. Petersburg society is flooded with children from novels. Just a little more, and they'll bring a coachman or a laundress here."
• Silence. The officer glanced at Artyom. *
• Artyom slowly peeled himself away from the fireplace. Coming close, he whispered so that everyone could hear: *
  "My father, sir, wrote about your family in a way you can't even dream of. He glorified them for centuries. And you will be remembered only because you slandered the memory of a genius. And that is much more offensive than being an illegitimate son."
• The officer grabbed his sword, but music burst out. *
• Anna didn't breathe. It was not just a similarity of features - a similarity of spirit. The same ardor, the same tongue that cuts like a dagger *
• Artyom turned to the exit - and met her gaze. Anna did not look away. She looked at him as if he were a fallen prince *
• He bowed to her with his eyes alone - respectfully and insolently at the same time *
• Anna took a step forward. She knew: the balls for the sake of marriage are over. Today, her own Pushkin romance began—forbidden, full of cinnabar and tears. Because when you meet a person who reflects an entire era, it's impossible not to fall in love.