Epilogue

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- They are still children! - Shouted Catleyn, who was crossing the hallway. - They don't know what they're doing! They're scared!

- They're not bloody children, they're grown men! - Shouted Gregory, who was also in the hallway of the Von Rostov house.

The news spread quickly. So fast that it reached the mansion of the proud Von Rostov family almost first thing in the morning. It had been two days since the dinner with Prince Malcolm, and neither Kevin nor Max had given any sign of life. They have not shown up at the house or contacted the family. Although Kevin had explained to the press how the situation between the young man and the American really was, it didn't matter to Apollonia. The situation was dangerous and the old woman was aware of it. The screams of her household members did not help in any way either. Apolonia locked herself in her solitary room, trying to resolve the situation somehow. The old woman was sitting at her heavy, massive and wooden desk located in her room. She had a cup of tea with her, but it was unable to soothe her nerves. The illness of her granddaughter Luna and the revelation that her great-grandson Kevin was not heterosexual had hit the woman hard. The wolf woman felt as if her years were growing by the hour. Although Apolonia already knew what to do, she was holding back her decision. She knew that if she made it, she would jeopardize her good name among her friends whom she had left behind in Russia. She waited for events to unfold because she thought that Gregory would come to his senses and start thinking rationally. But that did not happen, and within two days the house was in complete chaos, which the old woman could not tame.

In addition, Max's surprising qualification for the final round of the competition shocked the woman. She thought that if she left the American alone on the last straight before the semifinals, he would not have the slightest chance and would lose. She wanted to show her authority in this way and prove to him that he could not mess with her. It turned out, however, that Porter did just fine and will now dance in front of the king himself. Unfortunately, Maxwell Porter turned out to be a truly outstanding dancer. Unfortunately, this also posed a big problem for Apollonia that she wanted to get rid of. "Maybe if he wasn't homosexual, the situation would be different?" - she thought.

- How could you invite that journalist! - Catleyn shouted.

- I didn't invite him, I've told you that for the hundredth bloody time! I don't know where he came from! - Gregory shouted back.

We do not know from whom the journalist Michael got the invitation to Catleyn and Gregory's wedding, if he got it at all. Perhaps Apolonia was well aware of who might have caused the journalist to attend the wedding. Her stony face, however, betrayed no thought. It was impossible to break through her thick skin, which had masked all her emotions for years. But was that important now? All the facts revealed to the light of day had to be buried under the ground again as soon as possible. At least that was what Apolonia thought. The problem must be solved as quickly as possible. In the end, Apolonia decided that she would not be disguised in order to save her family, for whom she would not hesitate to give her life.

The old woman remembered the number to call. She grabbed the old, brown receiver from the landline phone that had been lying unused for years on her desk. She began to dial the number and then put the receiver to her ear. Apolonia felt no stress before making this call. The woman simply never wanted to use the contacts she had left in Russia.

- Yes? - Apolonia heard a voice she hadn't heard in years.

- Vasyly, it's been a long time, hasn't it? - The woman replied, with a slight yet crooked smile on her lips.

At that moment there was silence in the receiver. All that could be heard was the loud and uneven breathing of the mysterious man, whose identity was known only to Apolonia. She could hear the man swallowing his saliva loudly through the old receiver of Apolonia's phone.

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