𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒆𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒗

Chapter 9 - Pink Pearls & Satin

The next morning, Anastasia awoke in an empty bed.

She was still in her old bedroom, in Maria's bed, at Livadia Palace in the Crimea. Gold sunshine poured through the glass windows and Anastasia could hear waves from the ocean crash outside.

Life felt so normal in those few seconds. There wasn't a war ravaging Russia, her father was still Tsar, she was on holiday here at the palace, and her three sisters would soon burst into the room, requesting her presence at breakfast.

But the reality of her life soon overpowered her fantasy and she stepped out of bed, now carrying the burdening weight and suffering of her country. The country that took thousands of lives, including its royal family.

Anastasia had her sister - that was good enough for her.

Anastasia sprinted the halls, attempting to find her sister and Grandmama when she stumbled across them eating in the palace's dining room.

"Are you alright, Shvibzik?" Maria asked, taking a bite of toast, seeing her disheveled, panting state.

Shvibzik was one of Anastasia's family nicknames, which meant imp or devil. Anastasia couldn't remember the last time someone called her that. She smiled at the name. It felt so good hearing that word again.

"Come eat," Grandmama motioned for her granddaughter to sit.

"It was so kind of the sisters from the convent to deliver us this delicious meal!" Maria stuffed a piece of toast into her mouth.

Anastasia gobbled down her food - it was the first real meal she had eaten since she had left Ekaterinburg over a week ago.

After breakfast, Anastasia put on some old clothes she had found and decided to look around the palace.

Instinct led her to a room where she found herself standing solitary in Olga and Tatiana's bedroom. Never again would a body sleep within the walls of this room. Where girlish fantasies, deep secrets, and heartfelt prayers were absorbed into its still air.

There was a made bed in each corner, religious icons on the wall and dead flowers in vases on tables. Framed pictures of family were also scattered around the room. Most photographed were now dead, captured in image forever.

Anastasia glanced at Olga's desk. She saw a small black book identical to hers. She flipped through the pages to see photographs of her family from nineteen-thirteen, here at Livadia, here in these white winding halls.

How happy little Anastasia Romanov had been then, oblivious to smoldering war on the horizon.

The girl also spotted a copy of Olga's favorite book next to the album; Les Miserables. 'No wonder she couldn't find it when we returned to Tsarskoe Selo'

Anastasia also glanced in Olga's dresser, looking through the outfits, noticing they were quite childish and small. How time had passed...

There was something else that caught Anastasia eye. A box. Inside, there was a light pink dress embroidered with pearls. The dress brought back so many beautiful memories.

It was November third, nineteen eleven - Olga's sixteenth birthday. The age that a girl with royal status is presented to the world. A party was held in the glittering ballroom of Livadia palace. Guests from near, far, and wide were dressed in gowns and suits doused in jewels.

Olga had looked ever so regal walking down the grand staircase in her pink dress, waving gingerly to her guests with her escort. Her three other sisters wore matching white dresses. The party started at six forty-five that night, dinner being served first.