Col. Prince P. R. Bermondt-Avalov

We met this man before. So, the story now is all about his astrakhan ushanka: red and orange on dark blue and deep purple. About his cold steel gaze. And the background, too. This is a story by itself. St. Petersburg, 1917. A fascinating Countess wants a carpet for her dressing room. A very special one. Her husband meets a man, along the Moyka. They talk, the Count owes this man, an Armenian merchant, a huge amount of money, still he wants a carpet too. The Armenian knows the best carpet weaver of all. An old guy in Isphahan. So a diamond bracelet, long owned by the Count’s family, is carelessly passed by hand. In Isphahan the weaver weaves not one, but two twin carpets, because he has a crush on Russian women and the Armenian had told him of the Countess. Summer’s ending, the weaver thinks of Russia. The twin carpets, huge: a turquoise sky, red maple leaves slowly falling. Bolsheviks take the Winter Palace. The Count is shot by one of his servants. The Armenian helps the Countess flee. They will arrive in Kiev. They will stay with ‘Vrangel’s army. She will be his own mistress, for fear, for hunger. They will rent a room in Constantinople. He will die of typhoid fever. She will poison herself to death in Belgrade. One of the carpets still survives.