You are the spirit of technology which makes you older than all the countries' ages combined. You have seen pain and love and have gained wisdom from your many thousands of years of life. When the Russian Revolution hits, both you must cope with phy...
Seven Years Later: The Imperial Winter Palace, St. Petersburg, St. Petersburg, Russia, 1916
"Olga! Olga!" the Grand Duchess Anastasia burst into her older sister's room. "I need to borrow one of your dresses!!" the Grand Duchess was a mess: her auburn hair was matted, her blue eyes were glazed with sleep, and her face needed a touch of makeup.
Olga turned to see her youngest sister and was taken aback at her appearance. "Anya! You cannot barge in here, especially not looking like that!" She turned around completely and stared at her sister's appearance, looking her up and down. "The Winter's Ball is tomorrow night and you still have not prepared yourself? Many important people will be attending, including Mister Russia!"
"I know! That's why I need to borrow a dress!" Anastasia told her. "I want to look my best for mister Russia and his family! His two sisters will be there! I've never met them! IwanttolooklikearealgrandduchessandonllyyoucanhelpmewiththatyouaremyoldestsisterafterallyouhavetheprettiestdressesandI--"
"Slow down, Anya," Olga waved her sister's dialogue off, sighing after Anya calmed down and ended her rambling. "I suppose I can lend you a dress. You are seventeen now, you may fit into some of my--"
"Oh thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!" Anya lunged at her sister, throwing her arms around the princess.
"Anya! Anya! Off! Get off!" Olga cried. When Anastasia finally removed herself from her sister's grasp, Olga straightened herself, adjusting her disheveled nightclothes she had yet to get out of. "Perhaps you should try a few dresses on first, just so you can see what fits," Olga suggested. "Then we shall decide what dress looks best."
"You won't be lending just one dress, Olga," Tatiana said from the doorway. "Miss Tekhnologii called last night asking what she should wear, since she will be attending. When I told her the proper attire, she then began to panic because she had nothing appropriate." Tatiana giggled, remembering the phone call. "She sounds so hilarious when she panics."
"What does she sound like?" Anastasia asked curiously.
"She began rambling in Russian, then she moved on to what I believe was English, then she started speaking an ancient sounding language... it sounded something like Ancient Sumerian or Egyptian. She kept moving from language to language until I told her to calm down."
Anastasia giggled along with Olga. They were in their late teens and early twenties, which meant they were the same biological age as myself. I believe I am about eighteen or nineteen years of age at this point... I don't keep track anymore. At any rate, the relationship between the royal children and myself was more of a friendship than a mother-to-child sort of thing at that point.
"I suppose I'll find two dresses then," Olga sighed, "but I'll have to wait until Tekhnologii gets here to actually pick hers out."
"In the meantime, you can pick mine out," Anya suggested eagerly.
"Nyet, you pick out your own. You are accustomed to ball gowns, unlike Tekhnologii who has never worn a Russian dress before. Now, go, go! Both of you! Get dressed!" Olga shooed her sisters away and out of her room. When the bedroom door closed, Olga trotted over to the telephone in the corner of her room and dialed a memorized number.
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