Once upon a December
TESTER CHAPTER. Should I continue this or not?
I remember it as if it were only yesterday…
My father was Nicholas Romanov II, the ruler of all Russia. He was holding a ball to celebrate the three hundred years that our family had ruled. The ball was spectacular. It was an unforgettable sight. My brother, Enjolras Romanov and I were two of Nicholas' five children. I was two years older than him, making me ten and him eight. We were the youngest of his children…
That ball was the last night we ever spent with our beloved family, for that very night, disaster struck the Romanov palace. Our family was attacked. My brother and I were trapped in the palace.
Enjolras and I were the only two of the Romanovs left. The rest of our family had already perished. We never would have lived if it weren't for the kitchen boy. I believe his name was Grantaire. He was about nine years old at the time. Grantaire helped us escape by opening a passageway through the hall. He was the reason my brother and I survived the palace attack.
My brother and I planned to take a train to Paris, where are Grandmother lived. It was our only hope. And to think we almost made it… Enjolras and I got separated at the last second. Enjolras got lost in all the commotion. I tried to find him, and when my efforts became hopeless, I left without him.
I never saw him again.
I now live with my grandmother, the Dowager Empress, Marie Feodorovna. She took care of me for ten years. Now, on my twentieth birthday, I'm reopening the search party to find my lost brother. Who knows…he might still be out there.
Oxo
Ten years later
Grantaire stood in the middle of St Petersburg. The poor and ragged men and women that scurried about the streets were whispering around. Apparently, the only thing that kept the people of Russia alive was gossip. Grantaire overheard the woman standing next to him, speaking to her husband. "Have you heard the rumours?" The woman asked almost in disbelief, "Word on the street says that the young Enjolras Romanov could have survived the 1916 rebellion."
"You mean one of Nicholas Romanov's children could be still alive?" The man questioned.
The woman nodded. "Yes. His brother, Combeferre Romanov and his royal grandmother are willing to pay millions for the return of the missing Romanov."
Grantaire's eyes widened. A sudden idea popped into his drunken dead brain. He darted off down the road, dodging past many passers-by. He came to the market place where he knew a certain someone would be trying to sell fake diamonds. He yelled over to one of the men at the stalls. "Courf', get over here!"
Courfeyrac sighed and jumped over the stall table, knocking off some of the plastic jewels. He dodged passed some of the speeding men and women that passed by, going about their usual business. "What? I'm in the middle of something!"
"I just had the most amazing idea." Grantaire said with a grin.
"Oh, and what might that be?"
"Have you heard-"
"The thing about the Romanovs? Yeah, a woman told me this morning." Courfeyrac said with a sigh. "What's your point? I'm really busy!"
Grantaire slung an arm over Courfeyrac's shoulder. "My friend, do you want to be rich?"
"Well everyone wants to be rich, but that doesn't mean they're going to be."
"I have a plan that could make you and I rich beyond our wildest dreams! Combeferre Romanov said he'd pay millions to have his brother back."
"Are you seriously suggesting we attempt to find the missing Romanov son? You do realise this is NEVER going to work, right? He could be anywhere!"
"Wrong my friend! Wrong! We're not going to find the real missing Romanov. We'll just hire a stand in!" Grantaire said, grinning. "I mean, I worked at the Romanov palace for nine years. I know what Enjolras would look like. We just need to hire an eighteen year old version of him, take him to Paris, convince Combeferre that he's Enjolras and BOOM! We're rich!"
Courfeyrac scratched his chin. "It might work, though loads of other people are going to be doing the same thing, so we better get a move on, and you do realise it's not going to be easy. I mean, Combeferre knows who his brother is. If we're going to get an imposter, he needs to be pretty convincing."
"Eh, so there are a few details we need to sort out. It's easy. My friend, we're going down in history!"
…
One week later…
Combeferre shook his head. "No, this is just getting too complicated."
"You'll find him soon dear, don't worry." His grandmother comforted.
"Millions of people have come in claiming to be Enjolras. They're all liars! All I want is to see my brother…my real brother. I need to know if he's still out there."
"I'm sure he is Combeferre, just be patient."
Combeferre rubbed his eyes. "What if he's not? What if he's dead?"
"Trust me 'Ferre. One of these men is your brother. I'm certain."
Oxo
Julien sat at the train station, waiting for something to happen. When Julien was eight, he remembered waking up on this very platform, not remembering anything about who he was. He didn't even know his real name. He went by Julien because the people at the orphanage thought the name suited him well. Julien knew nothing of his life. He'd left the orphanage about forty hours ago. Within those forty hours he'd managed to make it all the way to St Petersburg without a cent on him.
Julien had always wondered…what was his life like before all of this? Before he went to the orphanage…did he have a family? Was he loved by anyone? Sometimes Julien would get flashbacks of what his old life might have been.
Julien wants to know what his past used to be. He might even have a family. He doesn't know what the future holds, but he intends to find out.
Oxo
Well? Thoughts? Tips? Pointers? Should I continue? Leave a comment!