Healing Hearts

Where She Belongs

January 1, 1992

(Maria Nikolaevna Romanova's POV)

The years were kind to me, and every decade brought many changes. Some were terrible. My homeland had run astray, causing much havoc throughout the world during the Cold War. The splitting of Korea. The Cuban Missile Crisis. The Chernobyl incident in 1986. But some changes brought wonderful inventions and other developments. The advent of television, computers, and the newly invented World Wide Web held great promise for the future. My descendants, down to my great-grandchildren, would live in a blessed world free of the accursed ideals of Bolshevism.

My dear Louis died in 1981, leaving me behind with our three children, Lady Anne, Lady Nicole, and Lord Alexander of the United Kingdom. I was saddened to see him go, but I had been expecting it ever since our elder years arrived. At least I would see him again in the afterlife.

Now, there was one thing I needed to do before my time came...

Visit my old family home in Tsarskoe Selo.

A week after the fall of the Soviet regime had passed. The birth of the Russian Federation was recent then, leaving a new beginning for Russia. I was no longer Russian royalty, but I still held ties of blood and soil to my homeland...

For this occasion, various arrangements were made for my privacy. No one would be allowed within a half kilometer from the Alexander Palace except for my escorts and I.

(Page Break)

The escorted car trip from the St. Petersburg airport felt odd. As I watched the city buildings pass by, I felt like a foreigner within the metropolis. So much had changed. Skyscrapers poked above the historical facades, as if new emerged from the old. I heard a jet passenger plane fly overhead. And instead of the sound of neighing of carriage horses, there were honking automobiles.

As my car passed through the outskirts of Petersburg, buildings gave way to trees and green fields of grass. Still, the fields seemed untouched, as if the passage of almost a century were nothing. Still, I felt almost foreign here.

I had returned home, except...

It felt less like home.

Perhaps I had changed more than Russia had.

"We will soon arrive at the Alexander Palace Heritage Museum," the driver announced.

I nodded. Conflicted between unfamiliarity and familiarity, what could I have said?

The car rounded the same old grove, and the sight of my former family home raced closer. And I was not prepared. Memories and feelings of dearest ones long gone and in their graves overwhelmed me, opening my old wounds again... I closed my eyes, feeling tears roll down my wrinkled cheeks. I squinted through the blurring tears flooding within my feeble blue eyes..

Those pale yellow walls.

Those majestic white columns between the two wings.

Those large windows where I once looked outside from as a young girl.

"Miss Maria?" the driver asked before frowning at me.

"I'm just remembering things again."

"This was your family's original home, Miss Maria. As the officials said, you have full access to Russian locations, including this particular place."

I nodded. Soon, the car turned onto the old earthen path around the front garden island. By the curb, the car stopped. I heard the brakes screech softly, and then nothing but silence. As silent as the dear and departed.

I took a deep breath, and I stepped out of the car. My feet landed on the familiar grounds. The slight crunching of the gravel under my feet. The distant chirping of birds. The still, cold air around the empty, lifeless façade of the Alexander Palace.

I shivered within my light blue fur coat and pants. But the colder air never caused that. The two commanders and their four soldiers within the other car behind mine had stepped out as well. Two of them were British, and the other pair were Russian.

They escorted me as I climbed the steps to the left palace wing. I sighed when I looked at the wooden doors. Their paint was peeling, and the door handles had begun to tarnish.

The Russian commander, Mister Golvinsky, pulled out keys from a uniform pocket. He unlocked the door before opening it. Like the royal entrances of that distant era, the six escorts stood aside.

I stepped inside, and I whimpered as I drifted my gaze around. Everything had been mostly preserved. Besides that which had been surprisingly preserved by the Reds, signs of neglect appeared

The peeling wallpaper. The flickering lights. The bare spots where missing artworks once hung.

I could not help but feel saddened at the state of our home. Being on the terrible side of history also brought a deep aching within my heart. To only be known as the outcast daughter of a "incompetent despot" did so.

Eventually, by my memory, I found the bedroom that Nastya and I once shared. The pink walls, topped with engravings of butterflies soaring above.

I walked over to the plush chair near the study desk where Nastya and I once studied and wrote letters together... and I took a seat in it for the first time after seventy four years. Some people would view such a thing as inappropriate, but damn that thought. This room rightfully belonged to me. This was supposed to be my home!

The guards shifted with nervousness, glancing around. The two commanders gestured for them to remain still.

"At ease, men. Allow her to mourn."

The memories returned to me, and my heartbeat began to slow. I felt many things. Sadness. Resignation. Relief. Yet, anticipation. A sudden feeling of weariness falls over me.

I closed my eyes.

"For those loyal souls who remember us women, give them my warm hugs," I whispered.

I drifted to sleep as I remained on that plush chair. But I never woke up again on earth.

A strange feeling like flying through the darkness. I am scared, worried, and lost.

A flooding of such brilliant light flows around my glimmering being. It feels warm and soothing like a parental caress.

"Welcome home, daughter."

The voice emanates from the gilded throne before me, across the sea of glass. It is Him, dressed in a brilliant, shimmering colored tunic with a gold sash.

I feel terribly small and insignificant, upon remembering everything. My past mistakes. My greatest triumphs. I look down in shame, knowing I could have done more.

"Do not cry. Do not fear. Just let go and love..."

A strange flash of golden yellow appears, and there stands-

"Papa, Mama! My siblings!" I gasp, doubting the sight of the six figures before me.

But there they all stand: Papa, Mama, Olishka, Tatya, Nastya, and Alyosha.

"My little angel!" Mama says, as she embraces me.

I shake my head. "But- But I'm old-"

"Look at yourself, dear."

I look down at my glimmering self...

Only to see my youthful skin and figure, vigorous with life anew.

"Oh, I forgot that could occur," I mutter, feeling terribly awkward...

Another pair of arms wraps around me. Nastya.

"Welcome back, sister," she says.

And we remain there for as long as it takes: seven souls embracing each other in the circle of love.

The beginning.