Chapter 32 - A Boy & His Dead Sister

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Nineteen twenty came around and the family spent as much time as they could with Grandmama.

But soon enough, the first week of January finally arrived. That freezing morning was bittersweet as the family stood on the front porch under umbrellas that sheltered them from the falling snow. The girls hugged Grandmama tightly, unsure when they were going to see her again.

"I'll miss you most of all sweet imp," Grandmama smiled at her granddaughter through tear-glossed eyes. "You're my favorite."

Everyone wished her a safe journey back to her homeland. The sisters also hugged Alexandra who was accompanying her sister on her trip. Final goodbyes were said and the family watched as the car drove off, disappearing into the falling snow. They all returned inside unsure of what to do.

"I miss her already." Anastasia sat in front of the fire in the saloon, stroking Joy's curly fur.

"As do I. We'll see her again, I'm sure of it." Valentin reassured everyone.

"How about we all play in the snow? We haven't had a proper play together!" Maria listed, trying to distract everyone from the departure of Grandmama.

Everyone happily agreed. They all donned snow gear and went outside. The Romanov sisters suggested they build a snow tower. Maria explained that back at home in Russia, her family would build a huge snow tower which the children would jump off of, falling into the deep snow below.

"How would we even build one that big?" Andrei asked when Maria told him how tall they would have to build it.

"We can do it!" Anastasia started making a base. They piled up snow to make a wall. A half-hour passed and the base wasn't even half done.

"We need help!" Valentin wiped his forehead. Even though it was freezing out, sweat dripped from his forehead, tired from hauling heaps of snow in his arms.

"Oh, you're right! Why did I ever think we could do this!" Maria collapsed into the snow.

"Did someone say help?" a voice called out.

They all turned around to see Liesel and Oliver leading a herd of servants behind them.

"We saw you making what looks like a snow tower. We thought you might need help!"

"Yes! We do!" Anastasia cheered, thankful for the aid.

Not even an hour later, they all had built a three-story snow tower. While jumping off of the tower, Anastasia fell onto her stomach. Once she did, she heard a sound from under her. It sounded like metal. She laid up to see the necklace peeking out of her coat. She was scared her fall had broken the necklace until she investigated further and realized the necklace was actually a locket.

It was open.

"What's wrong, Shvibzik?" Maria called from on top of the tower.

"Nothing!"

Hearing her sister, Anastasia scurried off of the landing patch of snow. Inside the locket, shielded by a thin layer of glass, was a small cut-out from a photograph of a young girl and what looked to be her little brother.

She was wearing a small dress with ruffles on the sleeves. The girl looked to be no older than ten. The boy was standing next to her, a large soldier's cap on his head. He wore a mini soldier's uniform. His short curls shaped his face. He looked to be five or younger.

'Could that be Andrei?' Anastasia looked at the photo closely. She figured it might so she pulled Andrei aside from watching people.

"Yes, that's me. That's my sister, Natalya, in nineteen o' four. She was eight and I was four. I've seen that photograph before but I've never known that the necklace was a locket."

"Are you really sure that you don't want it?" Anastasia asked.

"No, no. Keep it. Again, she would have liked you to have it."

"She looks so pretty! So do you in your little soldier hat!" Anastasia giggled. Andrei sighed sadly.

"I'm sorry-"

"It's alright. I have fond memories of her but I can vividly remember her face. Yes, my father's soldier cap. He died shortly after I was born. I don't remember him, or my mother. Dasia told me that we lived in St. Petersburg. After, I moved in with her in Ekaterinburg when I was five."

"I'm so sorry. That must be terrible."

"It is. I remember the day. It was nineteen o' five. They should have never gone to the Tsar's protest."

Andrei rubbed his eyes. He looked as if he were about to cry. Anastasia became confused.

"T-the Tsar's...protest?"

"Yes. Soldiers fired out on innocent crowds...Dasia only made it out. That's why she sometimes vomits when she sees blood." Andrei became angry, his eyes flooding with rage. He turned away.

"She watched my mother and nine-year-old sister die!"

He turned back to see Anastasia staring blankly past him, avoiding his gaze. He realized he had said too much. Anastasia sprinted away.

"I didn't mean to - Anastasia!"

Andrei turned around to see everyone looking at him from afar. Maria looked at him dead in the eyes, her lips pursed. She glared at him as she walked past. Xenia and Olga looked at him sadly as if he had let them down. Dasia walked to her nephew.

"Andrei..." she started but then closed her eyes and stopped.

"Auntie?" Andrei held out his hand.

Dasia turned away and walked towards the house along with everyone, leaving Andrei cold and alone in the middle of that field.

-

Maria found Anastasia sitting against a tree, her head tucked to her knees. She sat next to her but didn't say a word.

"It's Papa's fault isn't it?" Anastasia whispered, breaking the silence. "That so many people died?"

Maria didn't want to admit it.

"I-I suppose." she faltered. "But, we're not responsible for his actions and decisions for not doing anything about the people's opinions or protests."

"But, we are! Andrei blames the royal family for killing his family. Us!"

"I'm sure he didn't mean it. He got too caught up in the past and became angry he couldn't do anything about it. He blames himself for not doing anything. That he didn't stop them-"

"We're apart of that family, Maria. Royalty or not." Anastasia said.

"Why couldn't we do anything about it!"

"There was nothing we could ever do. Alexei was to take the throne. None of us."

Anastasia stood up. "I'm sorry. I just got-"

"I know, Nastasia." Maria pulled her sister into a hug. "It's know. I understand."

They both walked back to the house to see Andrei awaiting them.

"Maria, Anastasia-"

"It's alright. All done and over with. We'll see you at dinner." Maria avoided him.

Andrei wished he had never said anything about the protests or their killing, but he had kept his feelings in for so long. For fifteen years, he had blamed and hated the Romanovs for it, but that all changed when he was sent to patrol the Ipatiev house and saw the family's true nature.

But, he was sorry. He truly was.

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒆𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒗Where stories live. Discover now