The next few days passed like a whirlwind. He and Ophelia were together. They might not have said the words or defined anything as such, but all the same. He knew it. And he knew that she knew it. What else was there, in the end?

There wasn’t much time to see each other. At least, not without disturbing rehearsals and upsetting Ophelia’s place in the company. Gossip spread like wildfire, and there was no stopping that.

But there was a difference between rumor and blatant favoritism, and Salim towed the line carefully. He knew that causing a rift between Ophelia and her fellow dancers would be catastrophic. And with the performance in Moscow coming up, any chance of a rift was not a chance that Salim was willing to take.

Still, every chance he could get, he took Ophelia out for lunch, or a quiet drink after rehearsals were over. There weren’t too many chances. Not with the flight to Moscow, getting settled into their hotel and the theater, and rehearsing in the new space. But Salim treasured every moment he got.

He’d never felt this way before. He didn’t tell Ophelia that—not in so many words—but he had a feeling she could figure it out. The way he acted around her surprised even himself, and made it difficult for him to recognize himself sometimes. But it was, he was certain, a good change. Even though he’d never felt himself to be much in need of correction, everything about the man he was around Ophelia seemed better. More true.

He was gloriously, transcendently happy. But, at the same time, he felt as though he were stood beneath a large weight that was ready to drop on him at any moment.

Nikolai. He hadn’t seen Nikolai since he’d arrived in Moscow, but he knew he was here, lurking somewhere. He had to be.

Sometimes, in order to level the playing field, you’ve got to burn it down.

Whatever Nikolai was planning, he thought it would be enough to win Ophelia. And while Salim felt confident in her feelings for him, he would never be so foolish as to underestimate his oldest friend.

And, there was the matter of telling Ophelia about the arrangement that he had made with Nikolai—about the bet. He continued to tell himself that it would be best to save that information until after the tour concluded, but the decision didn’t sit easily with him. It sat like a knot in the pit of his stomach, and every time he thought of it, it grew larger.

If Ophelia noticed, she didn’t say anything. But Salim felt it, all the same.

So, his bliss and his misery were well-matched. And, although he couldn’t remove the knot from his stomach, he would at least be able to shed the weight over his head. For that reason alone, he felt almost optimistic as he and Ophelia entered the theater of the Moscow Ballet, ahead of the evening’s multi-performance program.

And then he saw Nikolai, and the smug smile on his face.

“Why don’t you go ahead to the box? I have some things to attend to, but I’ll be up as soon as I can,” Salim leaned in and said in Ophelia’s ear. Luckily, she hadn’t seen Nikolai yet. If he could keep it that way, the better his chances were.

She nodded and disappeared off into the crowd, weaving gracefully between the people like a skillful needle. He was allowing himself to appreciate her grace when Nikolai’s voice startled him out of it.

“I see you made it to Moscow.”

He was closer than Salim wanted him to be. He stepped back.

“I did. And I see you’re here. I’m still not sure why. You know there’s nothing here for you.”

Nikolai looked mock-offended.

“My friend! You called off our bet. Fair enough. But you think competition is the only thing that drives me?”

“Frankly, yes.”

The words surprised Salim. It surprised him even more to find that he meant them.

His sincerity must have connected with Nikolai, too. For the first time since they’d known each other, he lost his playful air. He leaned in close and pressed a program to his chest while speaking just loudly enough to be heard by Salim and no one else.

“Don’t forget, I brought you to her. I told you want I wanted. I never lied about that.”

Then, he leaned back again, leaving the program in Salim’s hands. His cheerful behavior resumed.

“Enjoy the show!”

Without a moment’s delay, he started speaking in Russian, apparently having spotted someone he knew walking by.

Salim watched his former friend walk away and was struck by the strength of the rage he felt. His hand shook as he opened the program and looked at it.

Three shows, by three companies. The deal Tomas had struck was for the Moscow Ballet and the Williamsburg Ballet to put on a multi-performance program. But, here in his hand, the program touted a surprise one-act ballet, specially written for this evening, to be performed by the St. Petersburg Ballet.

The world grew quieter. It was as though he were watching a car crash or some other tragedy in slow motion, and could do nothing to stop it. Whatever was in that ballet, he knew Nikolai well enough to know that it would be atomic.

He walked up to his box mechanically, as though he were a puppet with no will of its own. Ophelia must have realized that something was wrong, for she grabbed his hand as soon as he sat down next to her.

“Is everything all right?” she asked, and he treasured the tenderness in her husky voice. What would he miss the most, he wondered? Was it her voice? Was it her grace?

He handed her the program.

“There’s been a change to the lineup. Nikolai’s company is going to be performing, too. They’re up first.”

He watched her face carefully as she looked down at the program and saw that what he said was true. And then, he watched as her confusion became tinged with anger.

“And there’s something about that that makes you nervous, isn’t there?”

Salim swallowed hard. Now was the time to come clean. Now was the time to say something. But the lights were dimming.

“Come on,” he said, beginning to stand and gently pulling her hand. “Let’s get out of here. There’s a whole one-act-ballet’s worth of time when we could be alone. I think we could make good use of it…”

He was trying to be charming and flirty, but for the first time in his life, it fell completely flat.

She released his hand.

“I’m staying.”

She fixed her eyes on the stage as the orchestra began to play.

After a long moment of torn hesitation, Salim sat back down. There was nothing to do but watch it play out. One way or another, he had to know what Nikolai had done.