It was all of these thoughts that were with Prince Andrei that early morning in May of 1827 as he stood at the open window of his study, the day after he had burned his memoir and papers, until Natasha’s voice brought him out of his dream state.

Natasha was rushing down the long hall to his study having read her sister Vera’s letter and was telling him what it said.
“Vous avez perdu la tete, ma petite,”*

scolded her sister. Public singing was not for women of noble birth. Natasha would embarrass the family with this upcoming performance, and everyone knew about it. Even as the guest of Zinaida Volkonskaya. Natasha could not claim herself to be an exception, for there were rumors about Zinaida as well.

Prince Andrei and Natasha looked at each other with still faces and understanding, saying nothing for a moment. And Natasha threw down the letter and ran to arrange her things for the trip.

*You have lost your head, my little one.