Roman stared at him, peeling the skin off his thumb. He was furious at himself. A part of him hoped that his request would’ve been futile. To find one woman by name and a description from a decade ago. But one should be careful with his wishes. The man at the door might just fulfill them.

“Is she well?” - Roman asked after a good two minutes of silence.

“No, don’t tell me.” - the czar said as the man opened his lips to answer.

How easy it would’ve been if she was out of reach. A forgotten name, a memory that couldn’t amount to anything. But she was one question away. A question that should never be asked.

“You’re dismissed.” - Roman said.

His guest bowed and reached for the handler.

“Wait.” - The czar interrupted him again.

The man let his fingers fall from the cold handle, desperate not to be around an emotional man with absolute power over his life.

She could be destitute, injured, ill, the czar thought. She might need me. Or even worse, she might not.

“Where is she?” - Roman asked.

“Sire, you explicitly told me to withhold this information from you at any cost.” - the man replied.

“And now I’m telling you not to. Where is she?” - Roman hissed.

He was sent on a pointless hunt for a woman with nothing but a poetic description of her eyes and a name to go with them. But if there’s one thing he did well, that is finding people. He was not a man who enjoyed the written word, but when he saw her gaze, he knew that it perfectly matched the description he was given. He wasn’t supposed to hurt her or scare her. That was a first. The czar only wanted to know if she was well. He was told to forget her whereabouts the moment he left her sight.

But the door’s handle was so close, and grabbing it was easy if his memory proved better than initially thought.