#sim: dmitry mikhailovich narukhin

[cringeborg]

Portrait of the Count and Countess, 1783

Here's a portrait I made for my story. It's just this one painting, with three different colors for the frame. Enjoy!

Requires Get Together

§3,155

3 swatches

Download (SFS)

Alt Download (Mediafire)

[forgetalltime]

Christmas passed surprisingly quickly. It was not nearly as bad as Kolya had anticipated. He ended up finding an acceptable costume - one of his father's old uniforms from the previous century. And he actually got along quite well with Marie’s sister, Irina. She was similar to him in a lot of ways, except that she was thirty, unhappily married, and a mother of three. She wasn’t very similar to him at all. But she was friendly, and she never ran out of things about which to speak. Her gossip was especially enticing. But of course, Kolya was not one for gossip. Not at all.

Soon enough the night was over, and soon enough the year was over. A few days into 1816, he received a letter.

Narukhin,

Sovyanekov demanded I write to you and tell you that he is engaged to be wed. He said it would seem like greater news if I wrote it. That man has some strange ideas. He also tells me, “don’t forget to invite him to the dinner,” so I am inviting you to his celebratory dinner next Friday. He assures you that it won’t be a bore. That is all. Dear Konstantin is still your beloved buffoon, as you can tell.

Perhaps it is not truly “all”. There is something else which I should like to say to you, while we are both sober. I am putting my pride aside to apologize. It was not my intention to frighten you, and I hope that I can still call you a friend after what happened between us last year. I don’t apologize for beating you, for that was entirely warranted and I refuse to believe anything else. But we have kept too many secrets from one another. I’d like you to meet my family someday; write back to me and tell me when this will be possible.

Yours,

Captain Ivan Kuzmich Vnesky

[forgetalltime]

“Do you know, brother? She still hasn’t responded,” Kolya spoke up, feigning some degree of nonchalance. Sasha took his attention from his cravat for a moment to give his brother a confused look.

“Who are you talking about now?”

“Sonya! She did not respond to the letter I sent last month, nor the letter from last week. If I knew no better I would think she is tired of me.”

“She came to her senses, then.”

“Don’t joke, don’t be stupid!” Kolya sighed. “It is a serious matter, Sashka, I worry for her.”

The evening passed most uneventfully. He hated to admit it, and he certainly would not wound his mother by telling her, but Kolya was sick of her parties. Each one was a terrible bore of its own kind, and none of the guests were anyone he even wanted to be with.

The youngest Chirnitsyna, Marie, she and her mother were there every time, and Kolya always found himself being left to speak to the daughter, who in his personal opinion was quite the unpleasant girl.

But he knew he was wrong. It only took a moment to realize—who was right? His mother, the angel, or he, the miserable wretch?