Morning Glory-Francis (Reign)

Part One: Tsesarevna

"Everything is going to be fine, my darling." My mother said as she pulled my hairbrush through my bright red curls. "You'll be back here soon enough." She reassured me. "Now show me how you will do your hair." She gently pushed me away from her towards the vanity where a pitcher of water and a few metal hair pins sat.

As my mother had been teaching me over the last few weeks, I used the water to slick back my hair, smoothing out the curls and darkening it from its bright red to a dull brown. Then I twisted the rest of my hair as tightly as I could in to a small bun on the back of my head and pinned it in place. Dipping my fingers in the pitcher once more I smoothed out any curls that had sprung up, and pinned back the larger spirals.

Once I was satisfied with my work, I turned around for my mother's approval. A sad smile came onto her face.

"Good girl." She ran a hand over my hair. "Now, what is your name?"

"Anna." I did my best to put forth a convincing French accent.

"Wonderful." Mother smiled again, but I could see the tears in her eyes. Feeling water well up in my own, I reached for her to hug her one more time. In a few minutes it would be time for me to go, and nothing would ever be the same.

Just as she pulled away from me, a knock sounded on the door, noting it was time to go. I pressed a kiss against my mother's cheek before picking up the small rough traveling bag, containing only one spare dress, just as plain as the one I currently wore and a few samples of stitching and embroidery I had spent hours perfecting.

"Anya," Mother called out to me, as my hand touched the door knob, "Never forget who you are. And never forget where you came from. Where you will return to." The door slammed shut behind me, and I was led out the back door of the castle, to a pair of horses.

My name is Anya Vavora, the Tsesarevna of Russia.