For fifteen years, Sidney has lived on the palace grounds in Petrograd. In that time, he has spoken to Prince Evgeni five times.

It’s actually his father who suggests it. “Take the rest of the summer for yourself,” he says. “Do something fun.” “Fun,” Sidney repeats blankly.

The entire building is decked out for Christmas. Sparkling lights, the rich, glowing reds and greens of masses and masses of poinsettia flowers. It’s not hard to realize what’s going on. It feels like every titled, unmarried man between the ages of 20 and 40 who likes other men is here. Unbelievable. They’re marrying the King off with a fucking Cinderella-style ball.

Hockey is hockey, and politics is politics. There are kings of the game, and there are kings in their crowns and robes, and there isn't usually much in the way of overlap. Things change every day, though, depending on how you look at them. -- In which there is a small tragedy, a great success, and a lot to learn about someone Sasha thought he knew awfully well.