My pension started out wonderfully: a cruise, the sea, compote. And ended—in the hold of an eighteenth-century warship. Without a suitcase. Without the internet. But with a child in my arms, a monkey in my hair, and a husband who wants to drown me.
My name is Raisa Yevgenyevna. I’m a surgeon, 58 years old, divorced with a tragic background. Now I’m a countess in the body of a beautiful twenty-two-year-old—and, by some strange misunderstanding, everyone thinks I cheated on my admiral husband. Spoiler: I didn’t. Not at all. Actually, I’ve only just arrived. It’s the 18th century.
The husband, by the way, is Admiral Klim. Young, courageous, proud. And—furious. The child (not mine!) calls me “mom” and demands porridge. The husband’s adviser wants me executed. The ship is sinking. The Turks are shooting. The little monkey is eating my bandages. And where, I wonder, is the dining buffet?
A story about how to mix up a vacation with a rebellion, love with seasickness, and second youth with the first wedding night.