It was about nine in the morning when Andrei was awoken by Anastasia. They quickly got dressed and prepared to leave the motel.
Anastasia walked down the terrace to the end of the hall and knocked on the couple's door, ready to apologize. Neither of them answered. When she and Andrej returned their key to the old woman, Anastasia saw that room twelve's key was returned.
'They left. I wish I could have said sorry,' Anastasia thought as she and Andrei walked out of the motel.
But she couldn't think about that, she didn't want to think about that. They were on their way, one step closer to grandmama.
Anastasia and Andrei continued along on the side of the dirt road, positive they would make it to Taman soon as the old woman in the motel had insisted they were close. The sky was clear and the air smelled of flowers. Their walk was pleasant as they both chatted about this or that.
The big clock tower welcomed them in Taman as it struck two. It was a small village, smaller than Anastasia had thought. There were a few shops, an area was full of houses, one bakery, and a tiny boathouse. All that was left was a small dock where the ferry came. A few people roamed the streets.
"Should we get something to eat?" Andrei suggested. Anastasia agreed. They both wandered into a local bakery where the owner was too caught up reading the Sunday paper rather than making a profit.
"Hello!" Andrei greeted him. The shopkeeper didn't notice him.
"Excuse me!"
The shopkeeper still paid no attention.
"Hello!?" Anastasia yelled.
The man put his paper down, finally hearing them. "I'm very sorry! There's a developing story about the Tsar's massacre two months ago! One of the children may have escaped! Quite the read! Now, what can I get you?"
Anastasia felt her blood run cold. She kept her head down until they left the store with two hot biscuits.
"You heard what the man said! It's a story about me!" Anastasia thought about the encounter with the woman last month. She had threatened to tell the police about her. Now the story was out and spreading across Russia.
"I'm sure everything is going to be okay. Just keep a low profile. No one will know it's you." Andrei advised as he took a bite of his biscuit.
'I'm not so sure.' Anastasia thought.
Time flew, and sure enough, it was six forty-five. Andrei and Anastasia made their way to the ferry dock. They walked to the ticket booth, where Anastasia had purchased her long-awaited ticket.
When Anastasia received it, she turned to Andrei, eyes wide in shock. "There's only enough money to buy one ticket. I need the extra money to go to Sevastopol."
Andrei's face fell. He couldn't go with her. He led themselves over to a nearby bench, away from people's attention.
"I guess this is goodbye." Anastasia sighed. Andrei sadly gazed at the ground.
All was quiet except for the chatter of people in the distance, faint seagull chirps, and the rolling waves of the black sea. The sun was setting, and it set the sky vivid with rays of pink, orange, and yellow.
Andrei decided it was time. This was it. No more waiting.
"Anastasia?"
She looked up at him, her pale blue eyes locked with his. Andrei suddenly couldn't speak. His throat was parched and his stomach swarmed with butterflies.
"Are you alright, Andrei?"
"I'm fine."
Suddenly, the clock in the distance chimed five till seven. The ferry's whistle rang out.
"I have to go now. Write to me. Send your letters to the Livadia. I'll send mine to you in Ekaterinburg." Anastasia hugged him. "Thank you for everything."
Andrei was surprised to see the girl in his arms. She never had wanted anyone to touch her and always flinched whenever someone did. Andrei guessed she had trusted him enough. He hugged her back, cherishing the moment.
Anastasia smiled, breaking from their hug. "You're a wonderful friend. I'll never forget you. Don't forget me either."
With that, she rushed towards the boat.
"Wait!" Andrei called, holding out his hand, but it was too late.
The ferry's whistle blew once more, and the boat started its departure. Andrei, stranded on the dock, stood frozen in place.
The girl of his dreams was gone.
As he turned to leave, he heard a voice call out to him. He saw Anastasia waving from the top deck of the two-leveled boat. Andrei waved until his arm hurt. He took one last look at her and fled from view.
Anastasia watched as he left. She was scared to go on alone without Andrei's helpful aid, but she reassured herself that good things would come in the future. Things had to change.
This journey across Russia couldn't end in nothing. Anastasia had started with nothing. Fate had to be kind to her.
Rewarding her with the happy ending she had survived for.
The sun had entirely gone down; Anastasia was surrounded by nothing but open water. Most people were inside the ship's lounge area while Anastasia stayed outside on the deck stargazing. It was a beautiful clear night and she was determined to enjoy it.
She remembered Andrei's words. 'Through the horror, beauty prevails.'
Anastasia was looking out at the sea when she heard a crackling sound behind her. She turned to see a newspaper blowing in the wind. It was about to slide off the deck but Anastasia managed to grab it before it did. The moonlight gave off great light, and she could see one of her formal pictures from nineteen-fourteen on the cover. The headline read:
Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov Sightings - Did She Escape The Massacre?
Anastasia knew she had to be so careful about keeping her identity secret until she reached the palace. She knew she could be taken by the government if her identity was revealed.
Anastasia would then suffer the same fate as her family.
She continued to stargaze, fighting sleep until dawn. Sunlight peeked out from the horizon as she lay on a bench. She took one last look at the dark sky as she drifted off to sleep.
-
Anastasia slept for about an hour until she was woken by the ferry's loud whistle.
She looked around to see light rain falling from the sky and was glad she had picked a bench under a covering. She walked to the front of the boat to see the ferry was approaching the coastline. Shortly after, the ferry docked in Sevastopol. Anastasia was glad she kept the umbrella with her.
She caught a boat to Yalta, which took a day, and then paid the last of her money to board a bus. The whole journey had taken a day and a half. The bus finally made it; she was in Livadia at half-past five. The whole journey from Ekaterinburg to Livadia had taken a week.
Anastasia still recognized the town from years past. She made her way through, shivering under her umbrella. She found a clearing through buildings and spotted the white palace on the hill. She started up the road of pebbles, her body shaking. She reached the big iron gates, took a deep breath, and pushed past them.
Anastasia smiled as small tears glossed her eyes.
She was finally here - finally home.
YOU ARE READING
𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒆𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒗
FanfictionOnly the good die young...or do they? - July 17th, 1918 - Gunshots are fired, screams are heard, and Russia's last Tsar crumples to the ground. Yakov Yurosky is confident his plan to destroy the Romanov family has succeeded. But what happens when ba...