Russian, yes. I got it from my mother! *She tilts her head, squeezing March’s hand before letting it go.*

March is wonderful— it is your month for a few more hours!

*Gently, she takes her hand, bowing her head as she shakes it.* Natacha. I thank you for not sharing this, sorella!

*She lowers her voice, leaning in for March to hear.*

Wednesdays, after all siblings have left and he has finished his prayers past midnight, he sits alone in a pew, observing the stained glass.

*She moves away, smiling.*

You did not hear that from me.

Oh, no! I would not lose hope, dear sister. All good things come to those who wait.

Or to those who have heard rumors of the times he may be alone in the chapel, if one wants to pay him a visit.

He is very… dashing.