Chapter 17: Sixteen

Voiture-Restaurant

“Bonsoir and bienvenue, Your Highness and Grace.” Machel, with a white napkin smartly draped around his left arm, greeted the two ladies with a courteous bow once they entered the dining car. “A-apéritifs and hors d’oeuvres are being served at the moment, would you two ladies like to order anything?”

“What’s a hors d’…?” Anastasia quietly asked Rasputina.

“They’re small dishes served before the start of dinner service,” she explained and turned to Machel. “Can you please give us your recommendations?” 

“Bien sûr, Your Grace. For tonight’s apéritif, may I suggest a glass of dry sherry to set the mood? If you’re looking for non-alcoholic beverages, our in-house elderflower cordial is an excellent choice as well.” 

“Then, I’ll have a sherry and Her Highness can have the cordial,” she said, giving Anastasia a knowing look. 

Machel noted their choice of drinks and continued, “for hors d’oeuvre, I would sincerely recommend the Orient Express’ specialty canapés with smoked ham and mousse on baguette to stimulate the appetite. Will that be to your liking?” 

“Ooh…” Anastasia exchanged an eager look with Rasputina. “Bien, Machel, that’d be delightful.” 

“Ç’est magnifique. I wish Your Highness and Grace a pleasant dinner.” He bowed once more and prepared to leave when Rasputina called out to him. 

“Machel, are you not going to show us to our table?” 

“Ah, my apologies for not explaining earlier.” He gestured at a large rectangular table placed prominently in the centre of the dining car, around which half a dozen other passengers were mingling about with apéritifs in their hands. “Tonight’s dinner is a lavish three-course service à la française hosted on behalf of the Wagon Lit to welcome our dignified guests. Please enjoy yourselves to your hearts’ content, Your Highness and Grace.” 

As he left to greet the next group of arriving passengers, Anastasia turned to Rasputina and whispered, “what is he talking about?” 

“I’m a little lost too, sorry,” she admitted. “When in Kievsta, do as the Kievstans do. Ever heard of that saying?” 

“When in Rome, you mean?” 

Rasputina cocked her head to the side. “I’ve never heard of a place called ‘Rome’.” 

“Gracious me, if it isn’t Her Royal Highness Princess Anastasia herself!” A gentleman, elegantly dressed in a cassimere waistcoat and suit of black silk velvet, approached them from the side. He smiled broadly and removed his top hat. “On m’a tellement parlé de vous, I’ve been wanting to meet Your Highness ever since I heard you are travelling to the Exposition Universelle by the Orient Express. And you must be the esteemed Saintess Rasputina of Kievsta, who performed the Lord's miracle.”

Rasputina exchanged a quick glance with Anastasia before laughing nervously. “I donʼt think Iʼve met you before.” 

“Oh, my most sincere apologies. I forgot to introduce myself in my haste.” He bowed deeply. “My name is Francis Burdett, a member of the Chambre des députés. Itʼs an honour to meet you in person, Your Highness and Grace.”

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“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Sir Burdett.” She gracefully lifted the hem of her skirts and returned his greeting, with Anastasia anxiously following suit. 

He replaced his top hat and smiled. “Your Highness and Your Grace, please allow me to take this opportunity to introduce my daughter Angela as well. Angela?”

A young lady sitting down on a chair against the wall hurriedly stood to her feet, as if she had been anticipating her name to be called out. With a flustered smile, she glided over to them. “Bonsoir, Son Altesse, Sa Grâce. Mon nom est Angela Georgina Burdett-Coutts, fille de Francis Burdett et Sophia Coutts. C’est un p-prazer de vous rencontrer.” 

She had an interesting accent, Rasputina noted, not unlike her own. After they exchanged pleasantries with her, the father-daughter pair took their leave to acquaint themselves with the other passengers. 

“See, it’s starting to work! I told you you’ll be attracting attention with your splendid outfit,” Rasputina commented proudly. 

Anastasia shot her a glance. “Stop making me feel more self-conscious than I already am.” 

A waiter soon brought their appetisers and drinks over on a shiny silver tray. 

“So canapé is just a fancy term for bread…” Anastasia said, curiously observing the sushi-sized snacks laid out on the tray. 

“And are you disappointed?” Rasputina remarked, popping a canapé into her mouth and relishing it with a sip of sherry. 

“Maybe.” She removed a glove to pick a canapé up and bit into it. “Tastes like the ham sandwich they sell at the 7-Eleven, if you ask me.” 

“7-Eleven?” 

“A konbini…something like a market, but it’s compressed to the size of a store. And it is open daily, from day to night all year round without closing. You can only find it in my world.” Anastasia winked at her. “Sounds interesting, right?” 

“A market that never closes in the size of a corner shop…quite a brilliant idea, now that I think of it,” Rasputina murmured. “Perhaps if I can build a machine that can operate it in the absence of workers, that’ll be great.” 

“You’re describing a self-checkout kiosk,” she pointed out. 

“Actually, you know something? Before I cure you of your transmigration disease, I should really ask you for business ideas from your world,” she said. “Do remind me of that when the time comes. Also, do you want to try the baguette?” 

Anastasia stared at the weirdly-cut slices she was pointing at, each topped with some kind of paste that smelt of chicken and parsley. “That’s…just bread again, isn’t it?” 

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