It had taken her almost three hours of wandering and a servant who understood enough French to point her in the correct direction before she found the atrium. After the first thirty minutes, she had begun to appreciate the beauty of the palace that Sergei and Dimitri called home. Beautiful paintings, tapestries, and statues lined the many corridors. Polished marble and glossy aged wood gleamed as she wandered from one floor to the next.
Servants laughed and talked in rapid Russian as they worked in different areas. All had been polite, but none had understood her quiet plea for directions until a young man pointed her toward a narrow staircase. He told her to stay to the left until she came to the place she was seeking. Rune had given him a grateful smile.
“Thank you,” Rune whispered as
