Nasrosoltan approached the grand duke’s study and stopped at the entrance, seeing him reading a newspaper and enjoying a drink, so he waited to be acknowledged. The grand duke raised his head slightly and, with his hand, offered Nasrosoltan a seat. He cordially addressed him, “Thank you for coming. Please pour yourself a brandy.”
Nasrosoltan poured the small amount left in the decanter for himself and sat down. The grand duke took a sip of his drink and continued, “I am reading a fascinating article about one of our brave pilots flying a French-made Bleriot XI aircraft to your home city of Tehran. It seems to have surprised the residents there, for they had never seen what they thought was a strange bird flying overhead. Unfortunately, upon landing, the pilot collided with a parked cannon in a field in the city center. Amazingly, Persian technicians were able to repair the plane for him, allowing him to fly back home to Russia.”
Nasrosoltan displayed an air of pride hearing about his countrymen’s technical ingenuity. The grand duke continued with great emphasis, “You know, it was I who brought the Bleriot to Russia, laying the cornerstone for the first aviation school in our country. I think of these flying machines as instruments of war, to defend the motherland, not as playthings as the minister of war, Soukhomlinoff, mockingly suggests. This flight to your country was a great achievement for our aviators.”
The grand duke paused, looking contemplative, then downed the remainder of his brandy in one gulp, adding, “I have strived to make our valiant countrymen prepared for what I fear is to come sooner than anyone expects: a great European war our troops are ill-equipped to fight.”
The grand duke continued, slightly slurring his speech, “We do not have the right armaments or enough ammunition, much of it due to the incompetence of this Soukhomlinoff. For the sake of Mother Russia, I hope I am wrong in predicting such a catastrophic event. If this happens, Europe will have committed suicide. You know, my motto has always been ‘Russia comes first,’ but as I grow older, I realize I only have one life to live, and above all, the protection of my children reigns supreme.”
Nasrosoltan realized the grand duke may have had more brandy than usual, as he was divulging intimate feelings about the situation of the country and his family. This day, they were having a more profound conversation than before. He decided it best to just listen and refrain from saying much, as it was apparent the grand duke was looking for a receptive ear.
Grand Duke Alexander then caught Nasrosoltan’s attention by confiding, “Your influence on the princess’s development has been exemplary, and I wanted to take this moment to thank you for all you have done. As she is my only daughter, her happiness is paramount, and these past few months she has developed a self-assuredness that is evident in her demeanor.” He then raised his now empty glass, toasting Nasrosoltan in appreciation.
As the grand duke continued to speak, Nasrosoltan could not believe what he was hearing. Could it be that Irina was right, that kismet was in their favor? Maybe the grand duke was signaling that he was more agreeable than Nasrosoltan had given him credit for. Nasrosoltan’s spirit soared like an eagle as he began to believe that maybe there was a chance for their love to flourish. Irina’s father had unexpectedly spoken the words that gave Nasrosoltan a renewed and growing confidence.
The grand duke continued, “The grand duchess and I have noticed how she has blossomed under your tutelage. Thanks to your magnificent performance together that evening, I am happy to say that arrangements are being made for Princess Irina’s everlasting happiness.”
At first, Nasrosoltan was confused, not knowing where the conversation was leading; however, talk of plans for Irina’s happiness intrigued him. But then the grand duke uttered these heart-piercing words: “Prince Felix Yusupov has asked our permission for their engagement. I am sure you are aware I am telling you this in the strictest confidence!”
Even though the grand duke was slightly inebriated, Nasrosoltan had a sense that he would not have divulged such delicate matters to him if he were not leaving for Persia soon. But it did not matter why the grand duke said it, since now privy to this, Nasrosoltan would rather not have heard it. He instantly realized his apparent confidence in imagining he had a chance with Irina had been nothing more than a presumption.
Nasrosoltan felt totally numb and could not hear anything else the grand duke said. Suddenly, as if transported to his childhood, he recalled a poem his father once recited to him by the famous Persian poet Nasser Khosrow.
The poem told the tale of an eagle soaring proudly, high in the sky, admiring the array of his beautiful feathers when a concealed archer launches an arrow that strikes his wing, and he falls from the mist of clouds to the ground. He sees at the end of the arrow one of his own feathers used to make it go straight. The eagle says sorrowfully in Persian, “Ze ke nalim, ke az mast ke bar mast!” (“How can I protest, what came from me, returned to me!”) And so Nasrosoltan realized that he unintentionally had a hand in his own heart’s undoing.
The grand duke’s words were the arrow that stopped this soaring eagle’s journey mid-flight, tumbling his spirit speedily to the ground. Nasrosoltan could not believe that the same efforts he was recognized for were leading the hand of his true love into the hand of another man.
Dumbfounded and bewildered, he felt like a defeated wrestler without ever setting foot into the wrestling pit. He now fully understood the cruel rules of the game. To enter such a contest, the competitors had to be of the same status as those judging it. Could it be that Irina was right, that it was kismet? However, if so, in this instance, kismet was woefully unkind.
Chapter 25
An Audience Granted
As Nasrosoltan’s carriage left the palace, he was in a state of shock and disbelief. Once again, he cursed fate for playing with his emotions—the same fate that created ecstasy and then confusion within him instantly. He wondered why he had not said anything to the grand duke? Why had he silently listened while the words cut through him like a knife, without any proclamation on his part? He regretted his timidity and felt devastated at what seemed to be a fait accompli that Irina was to be with another man forever. Having lost track of time, he reached for his pocket watch in his vest but instead found the note Irina had given to him earlier, which he anxiously read.
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails!
This is my favorite verse from Saint Paul in our Bible, and I think it is beautiful and wanted to share it with you, for I rejoice in your love, and I have faith and trust that our love will never fail!
With the heartbreaking news he had just received from Irina’s father, Nasrosoltan felt differently about love. The love that Irina’s saint had spoken of was just an illusion, he thought. If he were to write his feelings about love at this moment, there would be no aroma of paradise. Instead, he would say that love is not kind, love delights in hopelessness, love torments, and love deceives. This would be the love he believed every lover, except perhaps a saint, would recognize from having loved.
Nasrosoltan’s whole being felt pained, knowing full well there was no remedy: the pain that seems it will never depart the body, which is ever-present and relentless, like a thief, robbing the victim of sleep, appetite, and any joy or purpose. A pain worse than death, for there is a finality in death, a nothingness that is to be expected. But to be kept apart from his love and to know she was to be with another, that was too much to bear.
Nasrosoltan cursed love as the culprit, blaming it for offering him what now seemed unattainable. But what he failed to accept was that love was only an innocent bystander on the path where he had been placed by chance and choice.
With every defeat, there first comes disbelief, then anger, followed by self-pity and finally despai
r. Until, in the end, one totally succumbs to the grief, or instead, like a phoenix rising from the ashes of pain and suffering, he develops the will to move forward and be reborn with new life and purpose. After several intense evenings of reflection and soul-searching, assisted by bottles of vodka and reading poems of Rumi, Nasrosoltan came upon this verse that deeply touched him and changed his attitude toward love:
A damsel said to her lover, “O fond youth,
You have visited many cities in your travels;
Which of those cities seems most delightful to you?”
He made answer, “The city wherein my love dwells,
In whatever nook my queen alights;
Though it be as the eye of a needle, ’tis a wide plain;
Wherever her beautiful face shines as a moon,
Though it be the bottom of a well, ’tis Paradise.
With thee, my love, hell itself were heaven.
With thee, a prison would be a rose-garden.
With thee, hell would be a mansion of delight,
Without thee lilies and roses would be as flames of fire!”
Rumi’s eloquent words were like an ointment rubbed on a blind man’s eyes so that he gains sight and can see clearly once again. The poet had reminded Nasrosoltan that he was dwelling in the same city as his love and still had access to her, so he slowly broke from his gloom. Fed up and frustrated, he knew this defeatist attitude was the most unappealing aspect of his character. He decided that hope was not a strategy, but bold action was.
Although Nasrosoltan’s hopes had been set aflame with only a few words from the grand duke’s lips, he resolved to rise from the ashes of his misery with renewed vigor and a determination to gamble everything for love. He finally understood he had no right to lament his situation if he did not dare fight for Irina. Nasrosoltan had a change of heart regarding love, seeing it as an ally in his quest for the ultimate prize, not an enemy to be despised.
Nasrosoltan gradually felt a resurgence of confidence in who he was. He regained his footing by spending all his free time completing the piano composition for Irina. He poured his soul into this work, and he believed it to be his masterpiece, with the beauty of melody throughout. Nasrosoltan intended to perform this piece at the conservatory’s annual public event, which always attracted a broad audience from the public and the St. Petersburg press.
Once again, fate intervened when Director Glazunov called Nasrosoltan into his office, informing him, “Monsieur Minbashian, it is customary for the conservatory to send invitations to the families of Russian students for the public performance. For foreign students who have no family in Russia, exceptions are made in that the invitation can be sent to another guest if you would like.”
Nasrosoltan thought this the perfect opportunity for Irina to hear the work he had dedicated to her, as he had promised for a special occasion.
Nasrosoltan replied, “Thank you, Director Glazunov, for your kindness in thinking of me. I would indeed appreciate it if an invitation could be sent to the family of Grand Duke Alexander Mikhailovich on my behalf.”
Upon hearing the royal name, a startled Glazunov inquired, “The Grand Duke Mikhailovich? I am curious to know why, if you do not mind me asking?”
Nasrosoltan responded, “It is my honor to have been the piano tutor to Her Serene Highness Princess Irina Alexandrovna for the last several months, and I have become closely acquainted with the family. Since I am to return to Persia within a fortnight of the performance, I would like to extend this invitation to this esteemed family.”
Glazunov was surprised at Nasrosoltan’s familiarity with the royal family to the extent that he wished for them to receive an invitation. As Nasrosoltan got up to leave his office, the director reminded him to submit a draft of his musical score for review before the performance.
With such a grueling schedule to prepare for his examination, to unwind, Nasrosoltan spent the little free time he had walking the boulevards of St. Petersburg along the banks of the Neva. He admired the city's beauty, and he knew he would miss it dearly upon his return to an unknown future in Persia. These daily walks became a ritual that cleansed his soul and cleared his mind from the clutter of unwanted thoughts and misplaced doubts.
But now, the one thing that had become quite clear to him was his boundless devotion to Irina. And his feelings for her were no longer accompanied by fear and trepidation of what may or may not happen. Instead, he felt freedom from the shackles that had bound him—bindings that were now cast aside by how he felt toward her and the action he planned to consolidate his position.
On the day of his next lesson with Irina, he arrived at the palace at the appointed time. She eagerly greeted him with a full, beaming smile. “Papa mentioned that we have received an invitation to your performance at the conservatory and has agreed we shall attend. Oh, my dear, I am so delighted and proud; it is sure to be the most wonderful day. I cannot contain my excitement!”
Without taking a breath, Princess Irina continued, “Have you decided on the piece you will be performing for your examination?”
Nasrosoltan took advantage of this opportunity to respond with news she would find pleasing, telling Irina he would perform the work he had created for her. He was aware that at some point during their time together on this day, he would also have to deliver some rather unpleasant news concerning the negotiations with the Yusupov family.
Hearing that Nasrosoltan would be performing the promised dedication to her, Irina spontaneously leapt up with tremendous joy, hugging and kissing him, knowing full well that it was their secret.
Nasrosoltan, uncomfortable that Nana or another staff member may see this display of affection, quickly separated himself from her.
He told Irina, “I have become like Schubert, dedicating a work to the one I love. Just as Schubert, I am also of a different social status than the object of my love. But I declare this love proudly, no matter the consequence!”
With an affectionate smile, Irina replied, “My note the other day expressed my feelings towards you. Did you read it?”
Before Nasrosoltan could reply, Irina excitedly asked him, “So, tell me, where did your conversation with Papa lead to the day he summoned you to his study? Did you mention our feelings for one another?”
Reluctant to break the positive spell, Nasrosoltan had to tell her the truth. “The grand duke imparted some information of a sensitive nature to me that I am not sure you are yet aware of. I cannot help but share it with you, and you must promise to keep this to yourself if it is the first you’ve heard of it.”
Irina was both confused and curious as she asked, “Please tell me, what is it? I promise I will not divulge what you tell me. But please tell me; I am getting worried!”
Nasrosoltan held her hand to comfort her and said, “Prince Felix Yusupov’s family is in discussions with your family, asking that you be engaged to him. Once I heard this news, I was flabbergasted and rendered completely speechless.”
Nasrosoltan, sensing her uneasiness, continued quickly to try to reassure her. “I felt it would be hopeless at that moment to say anything, and I departed as soon as he gave leave. Later in the carriage ride home, I read your note, which after my initial despair eventually soothed my wounded spirit.”
He paused for a moment, as if convincing himself of his next declaration. “I now do believe what your saint proclaims, that love never fails.”
With each word Nasrosoltan delivered, Irina’s smile slowly transformed into a full pout, eclipsing her momentary joy with an air of gloom, as she was now engulfed in sorrow. Her eyes welled with tears, an outward display of the emotions Nasrosoltan had also felt when he had heard these same words from her father’s lips.
It was not surprising Irina did not know of the Yusupov offer, for these matters were kept hidden as much as possible until it was made sure that such a union was to take place. With these arrangements, negotiations between royal families were commonplace, and they would rather not have the news ma
de public until the day of formal acceptance.
Irina was beside herself and began to weep. “No, no, never, I do not wish to spend my life with anyone but you! Please tell me you will tell Papa of our feelings for one another. Please, my dear, promise me!”
Nasrosoltan tried to comfort her by clasping her hands tighter. “Do not let your heart be troubled, my dear, for I have decided not to let my social position deter us from our happiness.
“It may seem the height of arrogance on my part to speak this way, but I deem myself worthy of being with the woman I love, even though she is a princess of the Romanovs. I will not be held back from expressing my feelings to your father. I am determined to seek a private audience with the grand duke after my performance.” Then he added with a half smile, “In the meantime, remain collected, and let kismet do the rest.”
There was a confidence in the way Nasrosoltan expressed himself that reassured her. He was fearless in the face of insurmountable odds, and this only made him more attractive to her at the moment she felt the most vulnerable. She adored him and was impressed most of all with his willingness to risk everything for her love.
“But what if Papa cannot be convinced?” she questioned. “What will we do then, my love?”
Nasrosoltan replied, “Let us not worry about that at this moment. What is the benefit of worry? As we say in Persian, Khoda bozorge!”—God is great!—“We must lean on his grace and the words of your saint who said, ‘love is patient.’ So we must also be patient and pray for a favorable outcome. We must not do or say anything rash in the meantime if our love is to have a chance.”
A Hundred Sweet Promises Page 20