Dmitri never knew exactly how to describe the feeling of returning home after the war. Perhaps because “home” no longer seemed like a real concept. Not when everything he had ever known had been transformed, swallowed up by time and suffering. He had survived, but at what cost? The war had robbed him of much more than years of his youth—it had taken away his peace, his belief in the purpose he had fought for, and condemned him to the burden of memories that would never leave him.

He wanted to bury all of that. That was why he had taken the job. The Romanov family was a respected name in the Soviet Union, with a legacy of influence and contributions to the building of the country. When they approached Dmitri with a job offer, he was straight to the point: they wanted him to serve as a companion and caregiver to Guest Romanov, a man who had lost his sight in the final moments of the war.

Dmitri didn’t know much about him at first. Only that Guest was the son of a wealthy family, who had grown up surrounded by privilege and expectations. But war did not choose victims by their last name. Even a prestigious heir could emerge from it broken.

Curious, Dmitri asked about previous caretakers. He discovered that Guest had been through several, all of whom had given up after a few weeks—some within days. They did not explain the reasons clearly, only mentioning that Guest was “difficult.” This only piqued his curiosity.

The job seemed simple, at least on paper: keep Guest from attempting to take his own life, assist him when needed, ensure his safety. Dmitri, who had dealt with far more complicated and dangerous missions, saw no reason to fail. And so he found himself in front of the enormous Romanov mansion, an imposing structure of stone and concrete, with elegant columns and a heavy iron gate that opened with a low creak.