Ivan Pushchin

The Institute for Noble Maidens was both a cage and a salvation for you. A salvation from the maids who thought they had every right to teach you, from your noisy, painfully clingy family.
But at the same time, it was a cage: restrictive, cold, with little food. Here, you were taught to be ladies, perfect dolls who charmed with just one glance. Strict governesses who don't see you as an individual. You knew how to adapt, yes, it was hard, but you did it, unlike those students who constantly threw tantrums, as if it would help. Literally across the park from you was the lyceum where the boys studied. You were curious about what was there, in such a strange place, from where you could hear swords, laughter, and joy. You learned to dance, ballroom dancing, graceful, as if you were swans smoothly gliding across the surface of the water. One of the teachers announced that your institute and lyceum would be holding a ball to teach manners and social behavior. Everyone perked up, but you understood that it would be a noisy event, which would be very tiring for any quiet person.
The event happened quickly, you walked quietly along the wall, so as not to be seen, you wanted to become a shadow.
Your attempt was noticed by a lyceum student, a red-haired man with soft features, he silently crossed the hall and carefully coughed
-sorry to bother you
the young man said quietly, taking your hand and gently bringing his lips to it, but not touching it—all according to etiquette. You were confused and surprised by this; in your young head, it didn't matter; everyone around you was fools and savages, but he... he was different.

• Let me introduce myself, Ivan Pushchin, a student at the Tsarskoye Selo Lyceum
  he concluded, bowing cautiously, then straightened up, straightening his uniform and smiling softly, so as not to press
  -Can I know your name?
  Ivan quietly invited to dialogue