Original subtitles

Ah. Morning.

Good to your word.

I thought you might have stopped our breakfasts

as some sort of continuation of your brutality against me

from the other day.

I lost my way a little.

I am back, reason itself.

Apology accepted.

And yet not actually given.

Hello, Paul.

Can we go see how the nursery is coming along today?

- Under guard. Yes. - Hmm.

Exciting.

Sort of unimaginable, this, in here,

will be a walking, talking being.

Also, a singing, dancing, hunting, and fucking one.

Or reading, writing, philosophizing, philanthropic one.

Hmm. Well, he will be extraordinary.

Ah. We finally agree.

It must be strange, a human creature inside you.

Do you ever think, "What if he has a knife?" Hmm?

- I never do. - Mm.

It does rush one with intense feelings of all kinds, though.

This fucking apricot is rushing me with intense feeling.

Close your eyes and imagine

you are eating the softest, ripest pussy.

I--

probably won’t do that.

I’m actually late for my Diderot breakfast.

I believe we can create a great nation

to rival France.

We can have our own philosophers who boldly think the unthought,

scientists who discover the unimaginable.

We must learn from the best these countries have to offer

and sally forth to a new Russia on their shoulders.

So-- let us discuss the Diderot pamphlet you all were to read.

First thoughts?

We are rebuilding Russia, and I wish you to be steeped

in these enlightened ideas as I am,

for that is the soil we plant our Russia in.

So, any ideas at all in the pamphlet which spoke to you.

- If I may? - Of course.

Archbishop of Court, Basil.

- Fucker. - Him?

Her.

Diderot has not much time for priests,

but I am forgiving of anyone bringing truth.

God, ideas, vodka--

-- all elevate the soul.

Huzzah!

Huzzah!

Huzzah, indeed!

Who else?

Raskolvy?

Yes, marvelous.

What was, in particular?

The pamphlet.

Generally and particularly.

E-Everyone read it, did they not?

A freewheeling discourse can be a giddying thing.

I have something.

You do?

It is entitled Thoughts of an Ex-Emperor.

What’s this?

"As I lay here in my imprisonment,

"I think often of the court

"and how much I love them.

"Who can remember the pig and hazelnut orgy of 1756?

"The court slept for days after,

slick with pig fat and empty nuts."

Shut him down.

I asked them to share their thoughts.

Not Peter’s thoughts.

"I remember when the influenza bug swept the court.

"I immediately ordered every vapor bowl

"to be filled with Scottish whisky.

"We managed to enjoy our sickness

and several babies were conceived that very night."

Thank you, Grigor. We shall move on.

Uh, well, I thank you for

the freedom of expression you have allowed to flower.

I will place some around the court

for your reading pleasure.

Huzzah! To Catherine!

Huzzah!

Grigor. What was that?

Ah, I just thought it would be fun.

I didn’t have any of my own thoughts, so--

Get some! Read Diderot.

- I will. - Did Peter put you up to this?

Between us, he suffers.

He is missing the court.

I thought it might be a bit of harmless fun.

I could report back the court was amused.

It might be good they remember him.

The nightmare should not recede in people’s minds.

I don’t like it. Don’t do it again.

Understood.

You did not go with Georgina?

No.

You were banished with her.

I ask, Your Grace, to remain.

You chose to stay?

I--

couldn’t leave him.

At least you realized who you loved.

I mean, I don’t get it.

I suppose some might find him

handsome in that sort of general,

symmetrical features, and deep brown eyes sort of way,

but-- I’m sure people will see through him soon enough.

Can you kill him?

No. She’d immediately suspect me.

Besides, he seems a simple fellow.

A pawn in her much larger game.

I know that look.

Don’t you fucking dare.

No plots to crush my best friend.

I thought I was your best friend?

You are also, which makes this awfully difficult for me,

so let’s think about me in this.

She is backing me into a corner,

and you know how I hate that.

No, no, no--

She is stubborn, yes, but she is also brilliant.

If you found a way to work with her,

she would listen in ways Peter never did.

You both love boring conversations, and even more boring books.

- You should get on well. - Are you finished?

No. It would also make me very happy,

which should be everyone’s top priority, really.

I’m done with this little experiment.

Agree entirely.

She treated you badly.

- Can we just kill her now, then? - No, we cannot.

Grigor read my pamphlet, that is the first part of the plan.

- And killing her is the second part? - No, Arkady!

Her failing is the first part,

me helping her do that is the second part,

and being together and in love with a not-dead Catherine

is the third part.

Fuck me, can you listen?

Apologies.

The women were slick with want

and the men hungry for your return to power.

I’m a good time. Good to remind them.

You will win back the court.

I never lost the court. I lost the throne.

And I didn’t lose it, I lent it temporarily.

What is your point? Because so far, I hate it.

I don’t really have a point.

Other than, we must raise you back up!

I thought the harsh treatment she gave you,

the kicking, the locking in, the destruction of Mommy--

it is not on!

I will tell you a strange thing.

Her ruthlessness just makes me see

how perfect we are together.

As they were kicking the shit out of me,

I looked up and into her eyes,

and the cold blue of it made me shiver

in a sexual way I have not known.

Well, if you flinch, it’s going to screw up the trajectory!

That one’s your fault.

Apologies.

She trapped me in my rooms like a prisoner.

No one should have that power over me, even if I love them.

Unless, of course, I’ve granted it to them in sexual sport,

which I once did with George.

She then came to me wet as spring rain

and bent over the desk,

and I fucked her with such savagery it frightened me.

And yet after she whispered to me so softly,

"Thank you."

It was very sweet.

Are you missing her, Grigor?

I don’t know, I’m still immersed in your story.

Eh, it’s how I tell them.

Yeah, her party was a failure.

I’ll have a party.

Everyone loved my parties almost as much as they loved me.

Absolutely.

A wonderful plan,

only slightly dampened by the fact

of your exile in your apartments

and no one, apart from us, are actually allowed to visit.

I will not continue to share my grand visions with you

if you act like piddling sticklers over minor details.

Your meeting with the Ottoman ambassador is, uh--

I’m sorry, it’s very odd to speak to you

when you’re seated like that.

It’s very odd to feel your lungs

being crushed like an accordion into your throat

by a foreign invading creature who has taken over your body.

So we must all adjust to some degree of oddness, don’t you agree?

Ambassador Sunduk arrives today.

What the fuck is that smell?

Leeches, to alleviate the pressure

on her lower pelvic region.

Oh, right. Of course.

Sorry.

I appreciate you all adjusting so uncomplainingly

to what must be so difficult

and inconvenient for entire minutes of your day.

Dirt?

Yes.

The Ottomans will never come round to you leading Russia.

They believe a woman’s place is on a man’s face.

You’re wrong. They view cunnilingus as a mortal sin.

They call it the Devil’s Lunch.

And yet it is, of course, a fabulous meal

any time of night or day.

The ambassador will meet me

and be charmed, and love me, like everyone does.

Absolutely. And Sunduk is a worldly man,

speaks seven languages, a legend among diplomats.

This whole meeting is pointless.

Ever since you’ve come into power,

the Ottomans have encroached on our border regions.

Attack first, show strength.

Or I will show intelligence and reason

and help them see what great friends

our empires can be to one another.

Recall our greater aims, Velementov.

War is not one of them.

Indeed.

A reminder that I am sure you don’t need,

but it’s about presenting a front

to the Ottomans of stability and reason.

And of course, Velementov and I will be there to share the load.

My dear, you are a blossom

that has never grown in this garden before.

No need to twist and turn your glory

to impress a man who cannot see.

Are you almost done, Elizabeth?

I agree we don’t need to impress,

other than by attacking,

with a plan of such elegance and violence,

they will weep at their foolishness at goading me.

Are you sucking on a nail?

I am, and I will not be shamed.

Certainly not, for the sense of shame

could be transmitted to the baby.

- I have met with the Sultan. - Really?

We were actually in a meeting.

I’m sure this is a great story for a luncheon, but--

Peter the Great took me with him

to Constantinople for meetings.

One night at dinner,

Peter the Great was out of the room.

I reached for some cake,

and the Sultan grabbed my hand,

bit it hard, and spat in my face.

Said some strange word,

which I believe translated means "pig slut."

Pig slut? Are you serious?

Apparently, women could only get cake

after the horses had their fill.

It is the culture.

Men lead.

That is why it is best I lead the negotiations.

I have a better idea.

This is a bad idea.

It is an insult to them.

If it precipitates war, I’m all for it.

What a surprising position for you to take.

- Ambassador Sunduk. - Empress.

Such an honor to meet you.

I am confused.

That my chief advisors are women?

Yes. That it is not Orlo.

Yes. Well, I do still have an integral role here.

It’s mostly an odd seating arrangement issue.

It is something of an insult.

Hmm. This arrangement.

Really? We actually love it.

God is everywhere, so sidelining the Church to the wall

is no insult at all.

Diplomacy is the art of neutral approach,

of delicacy to other people’s feelings for the--

ease of relations.

- Thanks for explaining. - Something I already knew.

I view diplomacy as a clearing of old prejudices,

so that a new understanding can come forth

between our two great empires.

That’s my view.

These Ottoman encroachments

on our border regions will end immediately.

Local warlords.

Unfortunately, nothing the Sultan or I can do about it.

You know how it is, running these big empires.

Fringe groups.

Pillaging Russian villages

could be construed as an act of war.

I hardly think it’s that serious.

You’re not living in the villages, are you?

Velementov. Hankering for war, no doubt.

- To defend Russia. - After the Swedish debacle?

I’m sure the Sultan has sufficient strength

to hold his regions together.

A woman questioning the Sultan’s powers?

She has a biting intelligence, our Empress.

He should appreciate it.

Indeed.

Ah!

The Sultan has sent a gift for the baby.

We are aware of your love of horses.

- How dare you! - You rude piece of shit!

Thank you so much.

What an incredibly thoughtful gift.

It is good to see a German with a sense of humor.

I consider myself Russian

and always willing to find a path of peace

rather than rage.

Unusual, for both Russians and Germans,

but you seem an exquisite anomaly in all categories.

God graced us with a leader who defies all categorization.

Oh, Archie! I completely forgot you were here.

So far away.

Will you have dinner with me tonight?

I would love to.

Ah. A feast has been prepared,

with anchovies, served fried, grilled, baked, souped, stewed,

steamed, smoked and salted.

Twenty-seven different kinds of pilaf,

and for dessert, ashure.

What a treat.

My country’s delicacies but prepared by foreigners.

Thank you, Orlo.

I trust it will be just me and the Empress?

Of course.

He liked me, Orlo.

We can do a deal. Did you not think?

I did. It’s fucking annoying.

We definitely offended him.

I can tell he’s smarter than that.

Empress, a word?

All right. My word is no.

Ah, off to a good start.

I forgot something in the State Room.

If you’ll excuse me before I have to make up what it is.

Empress, such steady leadership!

Your handling of the ambassador was a lesson in diplomacy and--

- What is it? - About Basil.

- He is here to stay. - Yes, of course.

And I am thrilled he is to be working with us.

What?

The demands on my time are great

and though his presence here was initially a shock,

I’ve realized I would be glad to share

my vision for the church with him.

What is your game here, Archie?

No game.

Just, um, a reevaluation.

It’s exhausting, this conflict,

and I fear it will lead Russia down a dark path.

And you to an early grave.

And Marial seems to think we can settle it.

Uncharacteristically optimistic of her.

Is it not a sign, perhaps, that we are both her closest friends?

Mm, I don’t think so.

Marial also likes to eat sheep brains in cream.

Sometimes I must forgive her, her bad taste, and move on.

I hold out my hand in friendship.

I do not want to close it into a fist.

Is that a threat?

A desperate plea for peace between us.

Oh, funny.

Oh! Oh!

Oh.

Gosh.

Indeed.

I must say I was a tad surprised at your interest. I--

Shot my husband in the head at close range?

- Yes. - It is strange,

but I found myself daydreaming of fucking you often since.

It is a strange grief,

anger at my idiot husband for getting himself killed.

I decided to give into it.

I see.

Well, I’m grateful.

You are--

Beautiful and a great fuck.

I know.

Exactly.

It is a new day for all of us, a new court.

How is she to work for?

She is extraordinary.

Of course, she is a woman and slower to fight than some,

but-- I bow to her brilliance.

My husband said you were brilliant,

constantly stymied by Peter.

I hope you have free rein this time.

The Ottomans would be formidable.

The Ottomans? We’re to war with the Ottomans?

No, no, no, no.

Don’t, don’t, don’t trouble your pretty little hea--

Don’t pat my fucking hands. I’m not a dog.

Are we to war or not? You owe me something.

You killed my fucking husband, prick.

Whoa, whoa, what is this storm?

We met the Ottoman ambassador today, prick.

I think she has him in hand, but it hangs in the balance.

Indeed.

I will cook that thing in garlic butter one day.

Are we almost done? I have a great deal to do.

My dear, you seem quite overwrought.

Bloating and embarrassment are side effects of pregnancy.

It’s quite normal.

I’m agitated.

This dinner with the Ottoman, much rides on it.

I know how I must behave, and yet--

pregnancy has brought a surfeit of physical sensations.

They overwhelm.

This amount of agitation is quite serious.

It can cause the baby to explode in the womb.

You must have a release.

Self-pleasure is allowed in pregnancy,

but I would have to be standing by to watch.

Is that essential?

Probably not as essential as I’m making it sound.

If you won’t fuck Sunduk,

you should just fuck someone else.

I am happy to service the Empress.

My knowledge of anatomy makes me a skilled lover.

Intriguing.

Kind offer, Vinodel, but you may leave us.

Okay.

Call me when you feel the need for masturbation.

I won’t. Good day.

It’s time we got you properly fucked,

for the health of the baby.

I’m the Empress.

It’s not so simple to find someone.

I fuck the doctor, he drunkenly tells his friends.

Then I am Slutress, not Empress.

A soldier, he wants a promotion.

A noble, he wants land and tax relief.

All true, but there is a solution.

Nothing could be simpler.

Guards.

- Guards? - It’s a tradition.

They have been trained in discretion for centuries.

Also, they have to do whatever you want,

no matter how exotic or primordial.

They won’t bat an eye.

I’m not looking for someone who isn’t in a position to refuse me.

Really?

I find power imbalances wildly erotic.

I suppose I’m old-fashioned that way.

Svenska has news and has paid a heavy price to get it.

Catherine and Velementov worry

about the Ottomans starting something.

The ambassador met with her today

and she hopes to win him to her club of gibbering acolytes.

It was unclear if she had.

Perhaps, Sunduk needs to be led to an understanding

of what he should report back about his visit here.

The Sultan has some strange beliefs about women.

You refer to the, "some are witches with horns" belief.

Exactly.

His belief in witches who feast on men’s nosebleeds,

witches who keep chickens

that turn into devils when urinated upon.

You’re making this too complicated and weird.

Sunduk is a sweet guy who loves me.

I remind him of that love, and we make sure he knows

Catherine is not long for the throne.

- He does love blondes, though. - Mm.

And she is the most exquisite creature alive,

how can anyone not love her?

- I just don’t see it personally. - Good answer, darling.

All right. Let’s act on Sunduk. But let me just say this to all.

We unbalance her, but never hurt or endanger her, understood?

Subtlety, we can do that, right?

Subtlety is my middle name.

I thought it was Levushka?

What a morning.

First, the Diderot breakfast, and then the Sunduk dessert.

I think my speech at the end was good.

It roused them, I feel.

Hmm.

Hmm?

It was an inspiring call to arms.

Well, I think they more heard your,

"Shit, why can’t you be French?"

No. No, it was--

Sorry, my overly dark interpretation.

On another topic: that Basil guy, what a cunt.

You should probably send him home or just kill him if it’s easier.

Oh? What makes you say that, I wonder?

Did you know that he can write with both hands?

Raskolvy says it is an omen,

and he has extra skin on his elbows,

which portends doom for crops,

and also is quite disconcerting to look at.

I sense you aim to protect Archie.

He is a kinder and much saner option

for the leader of the church.

I suggest you keep your fingers

out of the machinery of this issue lest you lose them.

Right.

Room’s clear. You can go in.

Ah. Uh, what color do you think? Hmm?

Not sure.

I say each wall different.

You know, green for the love of nature.

That one will be yellow for the sunshine of a new day,

then this one dark red as blood for his future.

Then one, whatever the color of crispy pork is,

or one wall this color.

Ouch. Sorry again.

Not at all. It’s excruciating,

but I’m thinking of things to distract me from the pain.

Paul, mostly. Hello, Paul.

Sweet.

And on that, I think we should have a baby shower.

What? No.

Russians love them. The court will be happy.

People want to shower us with gifts.

Hence, baby shower.

- No. - Of course.

Ah.

Ah, they really went for the kidneys.

Fine. We’ll have a baby shower.

Ah. I’ll plan it, as you are terrible at throwing parties.

Great. And I will be busy running the country,

as you were terrible doing that.

This pamphlet of yours.

- Oh, good, you read it. - I did not.

Grigor hijacked my breakfast with it.

Huh. I will talk to him.

He likes to be loved, and no doubt imagined my musings

would entertain and reflect well on him.

He has lost George, so be sympathetic to him.

What was its purpose?

I was bored, and then I thought for Paul, you know, my memoirs,

but told like a bedtime story,

and then I thought maybe the court would be interested.

You miss their attention.

Terrified as it was.

I could have all your pamphlets seized and burned.

You believe in freedom of the printing press, how would it look?

Although, I see an--

What’s it called?That thing where I did something to you,

you were morally outraged, then you did it back to me?

- Irony. - Ah.

Or ironie in French.

That was good.

Oh. Merci beaucoup. Lessons.

Ah. I made this for Paul using parts from real bears.

- You okay? - Fine, thanks for asking.

You seem a bit unsure.

No, no, it’s great, I just, uh--

been a while with anyone.

No one could ever understand

why you never fucked around on George.

Well, I-- You know, I am--

Your cock’s not actually in me.

Yeah, no offense.

I just-- finding it a bit weird, to be honest.

Ah! Sunduk, my old friend.

Wonderful to see you again.

- And you! - What the fuck?

Well, I’m pretty well. I’m going to be a dad.

Congratulations.

I was-- Oh.

Very nice, thank you.

You’re welcome.

So what happened to you? The coup?

I was basically winning. At any point I could have won.

And then I got really hungry.

You know when you’re really hungry,

and it’s just like, "I just need to eat,

and I don’t care what it takes?"

So I temporarily abdicated, but I am coming back to power.

As is my destiny and the will of God,

which I know you people take seriously.

Yes, we’ve, uh, always seen you as God’s will,

but now we’re a little confused by God’s actions.

Well, obviously it’s his will I regain the throne,

otherwise why would I still be alive?

I don’t know.

I meant to ask Catherine why she did that,

but I was too distracted by thoughts

of frottage with her hair.

It’s like a yard of corn silk.

- There to wrap around your c-- - You’re dead.

Sorry, what?

I’m trying to save your life here.

If you go back to the Sultan and inform him

Catherine is the true heir to the throne, ignoring God,

and how I’m the blood descendant of rulers for centuries--

"Don’t worry about it, Sultan, she is the one to talk to"--

how will he react when I retake it

in a matter of months if not weeks?

He cuts your throat.

You’re so certain of this?

Mm. This is just God’s little challenge for me,

so I come back and be a slightly better leader.

She may have the court now, in theory, but they love me.

My popularity grows.

Uh, Grigor. You look miserable, by the way.

I’m fine. Uh--

I might stop, actually. Yeah.

Uncle Varnya.

I thought you’d left.

I did. I told them the great news of the road to be built

and there was much rejoicing.

I’m glad to help my region.

Orlo! Orlo! Orlo!

Stop it, you’re embarrassing me.

The Ottomans are running rampant near us.

We are dealing with it.

Oh, of course, you are. People are writing your story, you know?

Really? Mm. It’s not really a literate village.

Born in shit, floated to the stars.

Thanks.

We are a poor people.

The poorest.

I know.

Cash is good.

- Cash? - Mm, cash.

It lifts the spirits of our people.

It lifts bread to their scabbed mouths.

I don’t know that I can do that.

Ah, but I know you can. You will.

For your heart is good.

You love your people

and are not black of heart or evil of eye.

Are you?

No, I’m not black of heart or evil of eye.

Cash.

Apparently, there’s a party.

You see they love me,

and her power is an illusion that I will shatter when the time is right.

How is he allowed a party?

I think he found a loophole--

and a hat.

Ah, welcome! It’s our baby shower.

Hmm. Such speedy organizing.

- Mm. - Gosh, don’t you look baffling.

Oh, thanks.

Beautiful baby shower, Empress. Congratulations.

I was explaining to Catherine earlier

that when you have a party,

it should be an impromptu, spontaneous

outpouring of love and alcohol.

But I suppose that’s hard to understand for an un-fun person,

someone who forces people to do homework at a breakfast.

That was fun.

We had a Diderot breakfast. People loved it.

I’m sure they did.

I’m bored rehashing it, even for a second. Really.

I must dash. I have to tell people

the stuff coming out of the fountain

is cherry-flavored vodka and not blood.

- I thought we said 7:00 in my apartments? - We did.

But in the end, I decided it might be a pointless gesture.

I am sorry, but I was under the impression

we made some headway this morning.

Mm. It seems your people may not be adjusting to your reign

as seamlessly as you’ve made out.

Nonsense. They love me.

And yet here we are, at your husband’s party,

where they sip on his vodka and cram in like sardines.

You do not make a strong case.

- That is not-- - Everyone!

Everyone!

I would like to make a toast!

Yes! As would I!

Indeed!

The Empress probably has some more reading to assign.

That’s not true!

I wanted to thank you all for coming to my party.

This party is very clearly mine.

I provided you all with duck rillette--

Which I own and have paid our chefs to produce.

In God’s eyes, I am still the chosen.

God cares for his people, so chose again.

Let’s get fucked up!

Here’s to many more parties like this,

because I am your Empress,

whom you love and think is very fun.

Uh, but not as fun as me.

Because I am known for being fun.

Indeed, you are not known for much else.

- Huzzah! - Huzzah!

Ah. Beat you to it.

- I took your advice. - Hmm. And?

I groveled. It was unseemly.

A year of betrayal on both sides

cannot be healed in one conversation.

Hmm.

And the two of you got off

to the worst possible start, we must not forget that.

- How so? - Think back.

Try and see if you can put your finger on it--

or in it.

Ah.

It was my duty.

Inelegant and uncomfortable, but my duty.

That’s not quite the beginning of an apology, is it?

Aaaah!

- Ooh! - Oh! Out of bounds, Tatyana.

He’s on Cum Patrol!

Wait, the game is to throw turnips at serfs?

Sweet Catherine, would you like us to put the turnips down

in case we hurt their feelings, too?

I was actually about to suggest something more fun.

Turnip someone who has wronged you in some way.

Oh!

- That is more fun. - Smolny!

Huzzah for the Empress!

Indeed! Huzzah for me!

Huzzah!

Hello.

I-I hear good things about the girls’ school.

Really?

I mean, I think so, but you can never be sure.

Our minds create a picture of the world

based on what we perceive through our senses.

"Knowledge is a construction." Immanuel Kant.

You know Kant? I can’t do Kant.

You can.

I think, therefore I Kant.

- Descartes. - Mm.

But not quite.

Decant?

That was giddying.

Shall we do more?

I believe those are for the baby.

He’ll never know.

Would you like some, Marial?

So, you do remember my name.

Of course.

And yet, when was the last time we spoke to one another?

You and George had that disagreement.

I was forced to be a serf,

and she chose to forget our friendship

and instead taunted and humiliated me.

You mean that disagreement?

She did not shy away from humiliating others.

At times, her worst quality.

At times, her best.

Even when she and I were friends, you and I barely spoke.

She preferred if we did not.

Why?

I lost my virginity to you.

You can’t tell me she was jealous.

She fucked your best friend

for the entirety of your marriage.

It was not a marriage bound by logic.

I have to go.

Can I come with you?

Yes.

Macaroons on Paul!

Hi.

That is not how we’re doing this.

Sorry for slapping you.

That’s fine.

Um--

Oh! You have lice in your beard.

I-I know.

Beard lice has been going around the guards.

Right, then.

This is done. You may go.

Look at him.

The fucking arrogance of that mustache.

Thrilling, isn’t it?

It’s fucking dangerous, the way this is being handled.

Peace chats and anchovy platters.

I know their way, as do you.

We need to show strength.

That’s all they understand.

Maybe that’s all anyone’s tried.

Maybe a new way, a new result.

I can win this war.

But not if I am dealt a losing hand at the off.

She must do something--

or at the end of the night, Sunduk goes home knowing

she is a pacifist with a popular husband.

They’ll take our territory and slaughter our people,

and he’ll expect a nice anchovy platter in the mail for it.

You know, I was on that trip

with Peter the Great to Constantinople.

I don’t remember you being bitten.

Really?

How strange.

You are often drunk, though.

Hello.

I noticed you left with a guard?

We may need a roster system.

No. Beard lice.

Oh.

I fear I may have cheapened myself tonight for no reason.

The court love you.

Sunduk does not.

The joy of being a woman is knowing that we have

unseen and unacknowledged depths and strengths

beyond anything a man will ever know,

and knowing that, when we feel like it,

we can outplay a man on his own field.

Indeed.

Oh! We were just chatting about

our hunting trip to Myshkin last year.

Interesting.

We should hunt sometime.

- You hunting? - Indeed.

Unfortunately, it’s time for you to go now.

Guards. Escort the Emperor to a spare room.

Tonight was fun, and I like to humor him

from time to time, but I have had enough.

Why have you started talking about me like I’m not here?

Oh! What the fuck?

Hey, let me go!

Stop! Hey!

Hey!

Now-- hunting.

Tomorrow, shall we?

Yes, I think we shall.

Mm.

I feel like I am finally free to do as I please.

I was in a foursome today. Haven’t done that in years.

Look at you.

Every day has just been filled

with all the things I haven’t gotten to do for years.

So, you don’t miss her at all?

What a terrible question.

I’m sorry. I’m su--

I’m sure you do.

I don’t know.

I haven’t felt much of anything. I don’t want to feel anything.

I don’t think we should fuck.

- There’d be a nice symmetry to it. - Mm.

We were each other’s first.

Mm, there’d only be symmetry if we were each other’s last.

We could fuck every ten years.

So tonight, and then again in a decade.

Mm. I think I need the person I’m fucking to feel something.

Numbness is not very attractive.

Understandable.

Mm.

A case for numbness.

Suppose I let myself feel something.

And what I feel is that I miss her so much

that I am pinned down underneath the boulder of that pain,

completely flattened and powerless to rise again.

What good would that do me?

Or suppose that I realize that I don’t miss her.

That would be excruciating as well.

Half my life spent on a lie.

So, it’s either numb, or terrible.

Did that feel terrible?

It did not.

Still not terrible.

- But not numb? - No.

Hmm.

Thank you for joining me.

I believe the more one knows a person,

the more one realizes the common interests between them.

It applies to countries, as well.

And I believe there’s no better cure

for a hangover than killing things.

It applies to countries, as well.

I love the way they fall, it’s very poetic.

Have you read Rumi?

No.

Which I’m sure you knew, which is why you asked.

Well done.

Ah. You seem surprised.

As do you.

Not at all.

I worry you will underestimate me

and then look bad to your Sultan.

You need to know, I will act decisively for my country.

I take it Velementov is in the forest.

Oh. What is a leader without a strategy?

Well shot, Velementov!

You aim to impress me.

I did.

And it was working, so ponder that.

How simple a thing was that colored your opinion of me,

mister sophisticated worldly ambassador.

A valid point.

You think I will not last.

But that is because you have never seen a ruler like me before.

Because I am the future.

Maybe you are.

Hmm.

Maybe you’re a delusional child.

But are you happy to take the risk I’m not?

May I make a suggestion?

It might help matters of diplomacy

to not start things off by lying

about having an all-female cabinet

of high-ranking advisors

simply because you think it will enrage me.

For what it’s worth, it did not enrage me.

Interesting.

- May I make a suggestion? - Of course.

Keep the mustache.

You might be tempted at a later date to shave it.

You’ll think, "Ah, it’ll grow back. There’s no risk,"

but it will never grow back the same,

and it is marvelous.

And if the point is to get all the birds--

-- not everything need be seized by force and aggression.

They seemed friendly and walked back arm-in-arm.

Right. Mm.

So, she hates random killing,

but is it random if I think about it

very methodically ahead of time,

and it’s actually a political strategy?

As I need trouble on our border,

and I need Sunduk to not try and fuck her,

’cause I know that guy and he has a way.

Hypnosis is part of it, he told me.

Hmm.

Okay. Yeah.

Arkady, I need you to do something for me.

- Of course. - You seem hesitant.

No, no. I, uh--

I promised Tatyana a night out, but I can do this.

Well, take her with you.

I owe you an apology, Empress.

You owe me many.

When I recall our first meeting,

I wish it had gone differently.

Indeed.

When I recall it, I am first struck by a cold sensation,

and then the urge to stab you 12 times.

I understand completely.

And in the spirit of a fresh start, I have this gift for you.

Jesus Christ!

- The offending finger. - I can see that.

The gesture,

grand and aggressive as it might be, is pointless.

We have completely different visions for Russia.

And yet we both want to save it.

I still believe we can, together.

It would take immense effort, when I simply do not have to.

I have found someone on the same page as me.

Someone who does not understand the church.

He is a backwoods priest.

He’s a good man, but simple.

He understands well enough.

What is that supposed to mean?

You have read Diderot.

Whether God exists or does not,

he has come to rank among

the most sublime and useless truths.

You say dangerous things, Empress.

The church means something to these people.

You cannot dismiss it.

Not quickly, you’re right.

But in time, we might be introduced to a better way.

- You used two. - I’m sorry?

Fingers. You used two.

Oh, yes.

I was a little light-headed after the first.

Although, at this point, I’m glad I stopped at one.

Indeed.

Me too.

Ah! I had a thought.

Who won’t expect anything from you,

won’t use it against you in the court,

and is guaranteed to get you off your nut?

I mean, there’s almost no one

who fills that criteria, except--

He knows the trick.

Throw this away for me.

Right, so what do we do now?

Do we really have to cut his head off?

Apparently.

Get out.

Ah! I didn’t expect to see you today.

Don’t talk.

Do the thing with the tongue.

Hmm.

Sync and corrected by Tacktic-69