By the time evening settled over the Hastings estate, Olga had already taken charge of dinner.
The dining hall glowed beneath the chandeliers, their warm light reflecting off the polished tableware and the silver cutlery arranged neatly across the enormous dining table. Beyond the tall windows, the last traces of daylight were fading into a deep blue, and the gardens had begun to disappear beneath the gathering dusk.
The staff moved quietly between the kitchen and the dining hall, bringing out the final dishes while the family gradually assembled.
Roman sat beside Olga, listening as she made a few last-minute inquiries about the meal. Gregory occupied his usual seat, while Julia sat across from him. Maxim was already occupied with his phone, Nikolai had found something to say about nearly everything, and Tanya listened with an occasional smile.
Nadia, meanwhile, kept glancing toward the entrance.
Two people were missing from upstairs, and she had a fairly good idea why at least one of them hadn't made it down yet.
"I'll go and get Rege and Maya," she offered, pushing her chair back.
Andrei glanced toward the staircase.
"I'll find Ivan. And Eleanor, if they're together."
Olga nodded. "All right. We'll wait a little."
Nadia left first, her steps light against the marble floor.
She stopped outside Rege's bedroom and knocked.
Once.
Then again, a little more firmly.
Nothing.
She tilted her head, listening. There was no movement from within, not even the sound of someone approaching the door.
After a moment, she glanced at the handle but decided against entering.
A small smile tugged at her mouth.
She could imagine exactly what she would find if she opened that door, and she had no intention of disturbing them simply because dinner was ready.
With a quiet shake of her head, she turned and walked back toward the staircase.
Andrei found Ivan where he had expected him to be.
His office was dim, save for the desk lamp illuminating the papers scattered before him. The curtains remained open, revealing the darkening grounds beyond the windows, but Ivan appeared not to have noticed the changing light.
He sat behind his desk with his shoulders held rigid and his gaze fixed somewhere between the documents and the empty space beyond them.
Andrei knocked softly.
"Come in."
He entered and closed the door behind him.
"Dinner is ready, Brother."
Ivan lifted his eyes.
"Hmm."
Andrei waited.
His brother looked as though he had been sitting there for hours without reading a single word on the pages before him. There was a pallor to his face that the warm desk lamp did little to disguise, and the hand resting beside the documents had remained motionless.
Andrei pulled out the armchair opposite the desk and sat down.
For a few moments, neither spoke.
He had spent enough of his life around Ivan to understand that there were times when his brother needed company and others when even the gentlest question felt like an intrusion. The difficulty was knowing which kind of silence he was being offered.
Today, he suspected he knew.
"Can you talk about it?" he asked eventually.
Ivan's gaze dropped to the desk.
He shook his head once.
Andrei nodded.
"All right."
He didn't ask again.
Outside, the faint sound of a car passing along the distant driveway drifted through the window before fading into the evening.
Andrei leaned back in his chair, allowing the quiet to settle between them.
"The family is waiting for you."
Ivan looked at the papers again.
For a second, Andrei thought he might refuse to move. Instead, his brother placed both hands on the desk and pushed himself to his feet.
"Let's go."
Andrei rose with him.
As they passed each other, he rested a hand briefly on Ivan's shoulder.
Ivan didn't respond, but he didn't pull away either.
For Andrei, that was enough.
They left the office together.
By the time they returned to the dining hall, Nadia was already seated beside Tanya.
"Where's Eleanor?" Olga asked as Andrei took his place.
Andrei paused.
"I forgot."
Nikolai looked up from his glass.
"You forgot an entire person?"
Andrei pulled out his chair. "It happens."
"Usually to people who have no business being responsible for anyone else."
"Then it's fortunate I wasn't responsible for you."
Nikolai opened his mouth, apparently preparing a response, but Maxim let out a quiet breath through his nose without looking up from his phone.
"Can we eat before the two of you start another argument?" he asked.
"We weren't arguing," Nikolai protested.
The exchange drew a faint smile from Olga.
Nadia reached for her glass just as a member of staff approached to clear an empty serving dish.
"They're asleep," she announced.
Olga glanced at her. "Who?"
"Rege and Maya. I knocked twice. Nothing."
Nadia's smile returned as she reached for her napkin.
"I wasn't going to wake them up."
"Good," Olga replied, amusement softening her expression. "Let them rest."
There was no need to ask what had kept the two together upstairs. Whatever Rege and Maya had found in each other's company, Olga was not about to interrupt it over dinner.
She turned toward the staff.
"Would one of you kindly check on Eleanor? Please let her know we're ready."
"Yes, ma'am."
The woman bowed and left the dining hall.
Ivan had said nothing.
He sat beside Andrei with his attention directed toward the table, though his eyes had not settled on any particular dish. When a servant poured water into his glass, he murmured a quiet thank-you without looking up.
Andrei noticed.
He also noticed that Ivan hadn't asked where Eleanor was.
Upstairs, Eleanor lay across her bed in a white bathrobe, her head resting against the pillow.
The bedroom was quiet, the curtains drawn against the fading daylight. A glass of water sat untouched on the bedside table, and her phone lay beside it, its screen dark.
The knock at her door made her close her eyes.
"Madam Eleanor?"
She turned her head toward the sound.
"Yes?"
"Madam Olga sent me to let you know that dinner is ready."
Eleanor stared at the ceiling for a moment.
"Tell Mum I don't feel well," she replied. "Everyone should have dinner without me."
"Yes, ma'am."
The footsteps retreated down the corridor.
Eleanor remained where she was.
She could have gone downstairs. She knew that. She could have dressed, arranged her expression into something composed, and taken her place at the table as she had done countless times before.
But the thought of sitting among them tonight, answering ordinary questions and pretending that nothing had changed, exhausted her.
Ivan would be there.
And he would be there.
And the knowledge that he would be there was precisely what made the idea so difficult.
She turned onto her side, drawing the edge of the duvet closer.
For a while, she listened to the quiet of her room.
Then she reached for her phone, glanced at the dark screen, and put it down again.
"Madam Eleanor says she isn't feeling well," the staff member reported when she returned. "She has asked that everyone eat without her."
Olga's expression softened.
"Very well. Thank you."
"I'll check on her," Ivan said.
He had already placed one hand against the edge of the table when Andrei caught his other hand beneath it.
The movement was discreet, almost invisible to anyone who wasn't watching them closely.
Ivan looked at him.
Andrei held his gaze.
"There's no need to rush," Olga said before either brother could speak. "She's probably tired. Let her rest for now."
Ivan remained half-risen for another moment.
Then he slowly returned to his seat.
Andrei's fingers tightened around his hand once before releasing it.
Ivan looked down at his plate.
Across the table, Julia watched the exchange with a small crease between her brows.
"I must say, it's unusual for Eleanor to miss dinner," she remarked. "Especially when everyone is gathered together."
"She'll be fine," Olga replied, her tone gentle but conclusive. "Ivan can check on her afterward and make sure she has something to eat."
Julia seemed prepared to say more, but Roman reached for his glass.
"Let her rest," he said.
That settled the matter.
Nadia, who had been listening while helping herself to a serving of vegetables, looked considerably less troubled by Eleanor's absence than Julia did.
"Well," she murmured, "at least we won't have to listen to anyone complain about the food tonight."
"Nadia," Olga warned, though the corners of her mouth betrayed her.
"What? I haven't named anybody."
"You didn't need to."
Nikolai chuckled.
Even Tanya smiled faintly as she smoothed a hand over the black fabric of her dress.
For a brief moment, the conversation found its way back to safer ground.
Then the staff began serving dinner.
Without Maya, the table was quieter than it had been the previous evening.
There was no delighted gasp at the sight of an unfamiliar dish, no sudden question directed at the nearest person, no animated declaration that something tasted better than anything she had ever eaten.
The meal was excellent, as Olga's dinners invariably were. The dishes arrived warm, the conversation came and went, and the servants moved around the table with practiced efficiency.
Yet Nadia found herself glancing toward the empty place where Maya might have sat.
She had grown rather fond of the younger woman in a surprisingly short time. Maya had a way of making even the most ordinary moment entertaining, often without seeming to realize she was doing it. Her enthusiasm could be excessive, her observations occasionally outrageous, and her table manners—if one were inclined to be particular about such things—hardly conventional.
Nadia didn't care.
She missed her.
"So," Nikolai began, reaching for his glass, "are we all going to pretend this is a normal dinner?"
Maxim finally put his phone down long enough to look at him.
Nikolai gestured vaguely around the table.
"Look at us. We're eating in almost complete silence. It's unsettling."
"You've been speaking for the last five minutes," Maxim pointed out.
"Because someone has to."
"Then consider your sacrifice appreciated."
Nadia laughed under her breath.
Tanya glanced at Nikolai. "You could always try enjoying the food."
"I am enjoying the food."
"Then perhaps you could do it quietly."
He stared at her in mock offence.
"I see how it is. Everyone has decided to turn against me tonight."
"Not everyone," Gregory said, lifting his glass. "Some of us simply haven't had the energy to join in."
Nikolai pointed at him. "That's worse."
The conversation continued, but it never quite gathered the momentum he seemed determined to give it.
Without Maya, there was no one to pull the others into an unexpected discussion simply because something had caught her attention. Without Eleanor, the table was spared the subtle strain that had accompanied so many recent family gatherings.
The result was a dinner that should have been peaceful.
And, in many respects, it was.
But Ivan barely ate.
He cut into his food, moved it around his plate, and occasionally lifted his fork to his mouth. More than once, Andrei watched him pause with the utensil in his hand before setting it down again.
Andrei tried to concentrate on his own meal.
He managed a few bites.
Then Ivan reached for his water, and Andrei found himself watching the movement instead.
His brother's fingers rested against the glass. He drank, placed it back on the table, and returned his attention to his plate.
Nothing more.
Andrei lowered his gaze to his own food.
He had known Ivan all his life. He knew the difference between his brother's usual reserve and the sort of quiet that followed him into a room and made everything around him feel distant.
This was the latter.
He wanted to ask whether Ivan had changed his mind about talking. He wanted to take him somewhere private, away from the table and the expectation that he should be capable of sitting through dinner as though nothing had happened.
But Ivan had already answered that question upstairs.
Not now.
So Andrei stayed beside him.
Across from them, Julia had also noticed how little Ivan was eating.
She glanced at his plate, then at his face.
"Ivan, is everything all right?"
He lifted his eyes.
"Yes."
The answer came smoothly enough, but Julia held his gaze for a moment longer.
Then she nodded and returned to her meal.
She didn't believe him.
Neither, apparently, did Gregory. He looked from Ivan to Andrei, his expression thoughtful, but made no attempt to intervene. Whatever was happening between the brothers was not something he could resolve with a question asked in front of the entire family.
Roman noticed too.
His gaze rested briefly on Ivan before moving to Olga, who was speaking quietly with one of the staff members about dessert.
Roman said nothing.
Perhaps it was because Ivan was his eldest son and had always been the one expected to remain composed, even when circumstances were difficult. Perhaps he understood that asking him to explain himself at the dinner table would only make him retreat further.
Whatever the reason, he let the silence stand.
Tanya adjusted the collar of her dress and joined a conversation about an upcoming event. Maxim returned to his phone after making a brief comment about the arrangements. Nikolai, having failed to persuade the table to match his energy, turned his attention to the dessert menu.
And Nadia continued to wish Maya were there.
The absence of one woman made the dinner less animated.
The absence of another made it easier to breathe.
Neither absence went unnoticed by everyone at the table, though no one chose to discuss the difference aloud.
By the time the staff began clearing the plates, the evening had settled into a quieter rhythm.
Nikolai was asking whether dessert would be served immediately. Maxim had put his phone away, at least temporarily, and Tanya was listening as Gregory recounted something that had happened at the clinic.
Nadia contributed when she felt like it, though her attention occasionally drifted upstairs.
Roman and Olga remained beside each other, speaking in low voices between the interruptions.
For anyone looking at the table from the outside, it might have appeared to be an ordinary family dinner.
Only a few details suggested otherwise.
Ivan's barely touched plate.
Andrei's untouched glass.
Julia's occasional glance toward her eldest nephew.
And Roman's silence whenever his gaze returned to his eldest son.
When dessert was finally brought out, Ivan declined.
"No, thank you."
Olga looked at him.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
She let him be.
Andrei pushed his own plate a little farther away, then seemed to reconsider and pulled it back.
Ivan noticed the movement.
"You should eat," he said quietly.
Andrei looked at him.
"So should you."
For the first time that evening, something almost resembling a smile touched Ivan's mouth.
It disappeared quickly.
"I've had enough."
Andrei held his gaze for a moment before looking down at his plate.
He didn't argue.
There was no point pretending that either of them had eaten enough, but he knew his brother would not welcome another attempt to make him do something he wasn't ready to do.
So Andrei picked up his fork and took another bite.
Ivan remained beside him, quiet as before.
Across the table, Olga continued her conversation with Tanya. Nadia was finally distracted by something Nikolai said, and Maxim made a dry observation that earned a reluctant laugh from Gregory.
The evening went on.
Upstairs, Eleanor remained in her room.
And somewhere beyond the closed door of Rege's bedroom, Maya slept with her head against his chest, unaware of the dinner she had missed and the people who had noticed her absence.
Downstairs, Ivan sat among his family, listening to their voices without quite joining them.
When Andrei shifted in his chair, Ivan glanced at him.
His younger brother met his eyes and gave him the smallest nod.
No questions.
No demand for an explanation.
Just the quiet assurance that he wasn't going anywhere.
Ivan looked away first.
But he didn't move his chair farther from Andrei's.