Konrad and Alexandra (PDF) - Rolf Gross

Byzantine Ornaments for an Oriental Harem’. Have a look in his book."She nodded. "Come to think of it, why could Henri not teach me to design such beautiful necklaces? Maybe I could evenlearn how to make them. I will have to ask Henri how he gets his ideas. Are you coming along?"Konrad avoided looking at her, the challenge in her eyes made him giddy. "What will your parents say: a well brought-upyoung lady like you trying to learn gold-smithing from a man in the bazaar?"Her eyes lit up with fierce resolve. "The daughter of a rich father may do anything she sets her mind on, as long as sheremains a dilettante and does not embarrass him by making money."She laughed and continued with an alarming obstinacy. "And I do set my mind on the things I like! But I had hoped thatyou would applaud my idea.""Dear, blue-eyed revolutionary, at times I am delighted and at others frightened by your headstrong determination." Hepulled out his watch and consulted the time. "We have to go, if we don’t want to rush."He went to fetch her burka.As he stood behind her, holding her coat spread between his outstretched arms, her bare neck lay in front of him for thethird time on that evening, utterly defenseless. He brushed it with a kiss.She spun around and slapped him in the face with her loose glove. Her eyes ablaze.For a few seconds he stood holding her burka like a crest-fallen, black-winged angel. She appeared irresistibly beautiful.And then her eyes changed, asked for forgiveness, and with a smile on her flushed face she gave him a kiss on theaffected cheek.On Golovinsky Boulevard she put her arm under his. "Hold on to me, I might slip on this wet pavement."She glanced at him sideways full of affection. Her arm in his was a novel experience; there was, of course, no dangerthat sure-footed Alexandra would slip."Please don’t embarrass me now," she asked as they entered the crowded foyer of the theater. "You will see how manypeople will watch us, we would be the gossip of town tomorrow. As it is, the two of us appearing together will already leadto enough speculation."Next to each other they looked stunning.Tout le monde de Tiflis seemed to be present. She bowed her head to half a dozen elegant people and steered him to acouple somewhat older than her parents. The gentleman was of an imposing stature with an enormous handlebarmustache and white unruly hair, his wife a formally dressed matron. Alexandra introduced him, "Professor Konrad Rostfrom Berlin and St. Petersburg, my uncle Prince Luarsab Tarkhan-Mouravi and his wife Princess Sophia Bagrationi."Alexandra smiled affectionately. "Aunt Sophia is my natlideda, my very special godmother."Prince Tarkhan-Mouravi scrutinized Konrad with unmitigated severity. He switched from Russian to a rather formalGerman and inquired after Konrad’s professional interests, while Aunt Sophia, smiled warmly. "An unusual dress you arewearing," she teased Alexandra. "Forever the elegantly understated Dadiani! But you must go and take your professor tomeet your young friends. We'll see you later.""A daughter of the mythical kings of Georgia?" whispered Konrad when they walked away.Alexandra raised her eyebrows. "Tchi, not now, later. Look, over there is our famous poet Varzha Pshaveli talking to thefeared literary critic Gregori Robakidze. You see him, the one with the prominent hooked nose. The stiff threesome overthere are the ‘celebrated’ German architects Grimm, Stern, and Schröder. Ha, ha!"She bowed her head again."This was Ivane Javakhishvili who is the driving force behind a Georgian University in Tiflis. But the Russians aresuspicious, we are much too Georgian for their comfort. This man there is Akaki Tsereteli, another one of my relativesand the beloved poet of our time. He is talking to Lado Korisheli, a young actor on whom every girl in Tiflis has a crush,"she smiled, "except I."Konrad observed that in contrast to Berlin or St. Petersburg few men wore military uniforms."You are right, this is a land of poets and wine growers, besides we are now under the gracious protection of Russia andhave no need for an army."Konrad, weary of running the gauntlet, was relieved when the bell sounded.They shared a private loge with the Tarkhan-Mouravis. Alexandra, sitting next to Sophia Bagrationi at the balustrade,produced an opera glass from her bag, and the two ladies enjoyed themselves exchanging gossip about the peoplepresent. In the back row, behind the ladies, the ferocious looking gentleman continued his private examination of Konrad."You should visit us at our estate in Kaspi-Akhalkalaki. I am experimenting with some new grape vines, and could verywell use some advice," Mouravi was saying when the lights went out and an expectant hush fell over the audience.Two large gauze curtains, one behind the other, spanned the entire opening of the stage. Actors in various poses stoodon the nearly dark stage, some in front, others between the curtains. A few pieces of furniture barely indicated theexistence of a room up front. A few trees between the curtains simulated a garden, and the second curtain veiled aromantic, moon-lit landscape, a lake, and a rowboat. Except for the front room everything lay in a dream-like haze.While the actors remained frozen in their poses, a deceptively real looking, brightly illuminated, white seagull, screeching"Íya, Íya", fluttered towards the moon above the lake.18