I decided to start this one over, and each chapter will be slightly different with most of the original content. Guardian Izz was my beta and I got my chapters back corrected and now seemed like a good time to post it. Hopefully you enjoy, and let me know what you think in a review. Please don't be mad at me, I just felt you guys needed better material. And I have a good amount of chapters written so the more inspiration or feedback, the more I write and can give you more to read! Love you all ! Enjoy! - Emily
A Public Affair - Prologue
St. Petersburg, 1917
The revolution had come. The snow twisted and turned outside against the dark, night sky. The cold, bitter feeling would never go away. The imperial family, the Romanovs, had been taken to a far away city, either for questioning, or, as most suspected, to meet a fate far worse. The Russian Empire was falling apart. Only a few royalists still remained in the Russian capital, the once intellectual metropolitan - Saint Petersburg.
Little Blair was the daughter of Archduke, general, and close relative to the tsar Alexander II. Her father, Grand Duke Nicholas Nikolayevich, honorable Russian general had served as the commander of the great Russian Army on the front during the Great War, and merely a year ago retired for a quiet life among the society. He was well known around the city, and that was a frightening thought nowadays.
Nicholas adored his daughter. She was the perfect mix of his late wife and himself. Her brunette curls, soft and rich as a cashmere blanket. Her red lips, when pressed together looked like a vibrant heart, maybe serving as a glimpse inside of the real one. Also, her brown doe eyes made her an enchantress at only age four would most likely cause a problem in her later years and the duke was already keeping her at a distance away from boys, or men younger than 20 in general.
For a four year old, she had quite the personality. Blair had proven that she was not some delicate little flower. As much as she would have liked to seem like a dainty damsel in distress, her father knew she was destined for much greater things. One thing he did not quite understand however, was her constant inquiry about the family across the canal and well… her curiosity in general. The duke was more direct in his ways, but his daughter was from a young age a schemer.
Together they lived in a city mansion near a Griboedov canal in the all too familiar central part of Petersburg. Blair loved that house. Its old feel and regal presence made her feel like she was of the highest power. It also made her feel like she was somebody who would one day befriend the matrons of Europe. Her favorite aspects of the mansion were the crimson carpets accompanied by the black and white tile. The sounds of her shoes could be heard echoing on the tile, a reminder of the darling girl who lived there. The grand staircase that led into the Grand Ballroom was where her father would hold extravagant parties, while Blair hid behind the corner and watched all of the gentlemen in uniforms and their female companions try to make conversation with her father. Once in a while Nicholas would take leave from the dull duty if having to discuss politics and old stories, to have a dance with his doll of a daughter, showing her off in the process.
The Austrian waltzes boomed through that Ballroom, and when it was empty, you felt as if you could still hear the classical music. The paintings of her distant cousins, wherever they were, her uncles, aunts, friends…all gone without a trace of their disappearance.
Often, Blair would slowly descend down the regal staircase acting like she had seen grown-ups do, and once she reached the bottom, curtsey to the silent room just as she was taught by her governess. The little heiress would sit on the last step and regard all of the paintings, muttering to herself about her predecessors' awful taste in clothing.
But now, fear of being taken away had consumed Blair and her father's whole being. Whenever it got too quiet, they would assume the worst. The silence Blair once cherished was gone and gossip and lies would soon become an erasable part of her life.
Across the canal, lived an equally noble and well-known family. The patriarch was a very wealthy man who had a child out of wedlock– a son born by a famous opera singer. Bartholomew never did marry the woman and continued his womanizing bachelor ways. Often he would leave the city for leisure and would leave the boy in the servants' care. The man was a close friend to Nicholas, and Blair, being the Archduke's daughter had heard not much, but enough of the man's infamous son – the story of his upbringing naturally aroused her curiosity. The boy was three years her senior which wasn't that much, was educated and grew up in luxury but away from the eyes of society. His father was rarely in town and hence the boy was mostly left in solitude of the grand mansion. The way Blair saw it, it was worse to not be acknowledged at all than being acknowledged poorly. She would sometimes spot him staring back at her through a window on the third floor, but before she had a chance to wave she would be pulled away from the balcony and the windows would already be locked by the time she managed to escape her governess.
The revolution was nearing quickly. It was quite obvious that the Duke had to leave his mother country if not for his own sake, then for the sake of his precious daughter. The only escape was to Paris. France was home to the Archibald family. They were very close and dear friends of the Romanovs. Unaware to Blair and the public, she was betrothed to the youngest son, Nathaniel who was also a few years older than the little girl. Blair's father would probably inform her of this maybe very soon as it would come out during family gossip. So Paris, it would have it to be. This would be a new beginning for her: new friends, new ladies to admire, and new surroundings. The only thing she could forever keep was her doll, Ana. Her father had given Ana to Blair for her second birthday and she had never parted from it since. Ana knew most of Blair's secrets but was very loyal and never told anyone.
As she shivered as she prepared to leave her mansion, probably for the last time. She didn't take much except for Ana and her heart pendant around her neck. Her icy blue coat contrasted beautifully against her pale skin. She walked down the corridors for the last time, and couldn't help but cry. The Great Ballroom felt so dismal and full of memories that would soon be left behind.
She took her usual spot on the last step and silently put her head near her knees and wept. Unknowingly, her father had been looking for her, and when he had found her in her usual spot, he felt a warmth spreading through his usually chilled heart. So, he sat down beside her, and waited a few minutes before he said anything.
"Beautiful isn't it?" Nicholas murmured to himself and the empty ballroom, hoping she would be listening. "Little Duchess, don't cry. One day, I promise, you'll be back." He soothingly rubbed his rough hand along her back like he was used to do whenever his little girl felt distressed.
"Oh, Papa, I do hope we return. I very much hope so. What is Paris like? Do tell me, Papa please." Blair's eyes shone with sad excitement that made Nicholas unable to deny her request.
"Dear, it's wonderful. The people are very classy and everyone is always moving. The buildings are splendid and I know you'll love the pretty clothes you'll be able to wear. Paris is known for their immaculate fashion."
"Oh, I cannot wait!" Blair hugged him. "You'll see, I'll have the most wonderful dresses, oh and my headbands. Those society ladies will be pea green with envy! I was meant for fashion, Papa, I was."
"You are meant for a lot of things, yes. Blair…things will change. Change is inevitable." Blair's blank stare made him realize she did not know what that meant. "Inevitable means it is bound to happen, it will happen. Just promise me, Little Duchess that you will never forget of who you really are and where you come from. Others will try and change you for their own benefit, you are special and many people know that, dear." Nicholas' eyes started misting and he realized that it hadn't happened since his deceased wife passed.
"I promise, Papa, I promise. I always have Ana and my pendant here to remind me!" Blair gestured to her neck and to her doll while her father smiled.
Suddenly, Nola, Blair's governess appeared at the top of the staircase. Blair wasn't too fond of Nola with her dark hair and cat-like eyes, but nonetheless she cared for the woman who helped to raise her.
"It is time." She slowly spoke enunciating with her French accent. "We go now Mademoiselle. Take Ana and let us hurry."
Blair hurried up the stairs. When she looked down, the little girl caught her father taking one last long look around his ballroom - the place once filled with joy and happiness that very likely would never return. With a sad sigh, she continued up the staircase and said goodbye to her home.
The train station was overcrowded with hundreds of desperate people trying to flee. Most were so far, unsuccessful. Charles Bass was pushed through the crowd along with one of his many caretakers. He and his father had tried to catch a boat to America, but his father, who had been rushing to the next departing train. Out of nowhere young Charles heard car breaks and his father disappeared from his view. His nanny stood frozen and the confused and anxious boy was dragged into another direction.
Stubborn as ever the little boy pulled his hand free and ran over to the place, crawling on the ground to get past the panicked barbarians. "Dad?" Chuck stared in disbelief as he saw red fluid make patterns in the fresh snow. The footsteps of others running around the body swirled the blood within the snow. It almost resembled a candy cane. Barely registering his nanny pulling him away, Charles thought of Christmas.
Happy Thoughts.
Happy Thoughts.
But the shouts of the crazed escapees would haunt him forever.
"Hurry children!"
"Put that gun, down Sir, if you know what's good for you."
"Not my baby!"
Chills made their way up his neck, and he was quickly whisked away by his caretaker. It was almost as if they hadn't left the body of the great Bartholomew Bass lying on the crowded and dirty platform nr.7 at the Grand Station of St Petersburg.
The nanny told him that she had seen a riot beginning to break out. So, she had gotten him out of harm's way before anything else could have happened to him. The caretaker made a rash decision to have them take the next train to Paris and from there she would help him get to America where she knew his father had business and property saved in trust funds. Only then did she realize that this boy, this scared little boy was the heir to the Bass millions. The nobility was stripped away at this point; he was partly noble, but not as prominently. Bart never told anyone that he planned on making his bastard son the sole heir to his empire, but as his will would have it, the younger bass would indeed be the new millionaire.
All of a sudden, she recognized a familiar looking maid with her current charge and employee. Instantly she recognized her old school friend, Nola.
"Nola? Oh heavens, we must hurry. Who is this bright, little thing?" The little brunette looked up and like a doll, displayed her dimples as she smiled. Charles peeked from behind the woman who cared for him and caught a glimpse of the girl he had heard detailed stories about. She was the little girl who could light up a room just by batting her dark lashes. She was the little girl who wore jewelry on her head to seem as if she fitted in, when she was born to stand out. It was her - the angel from the window across the canal.
"Blair. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, but we must hurry. Ana is frightfully cold." Blair snuggled her face against her doll and even smiled shyly at Charles. "You must be the boy, the one from across the canal. It's nice to meet you too."
Charles was beyond surprised when Blair genuinely smiled at him, no one ever acknowledged him like that. Usually people didn't smile while saying something referring to him. In his naïve mind, all he could think was that she was a nice and very pretty girl, and that there was a unique quality of sorts about her.
"Children we must hurry! The train will leave within minutes! You would not mind if we joined you?"
"You are very welcome." A male voice interrupted.
"Oh father, yes, let us be off to Paris!" Blair smiled excitedly at her father who smiled back with pride. "Oh and Papa, this is…Charles…yes?" She looked to Charles who smiled and nodded happily.
"Yes, very well. Here we are Little Duchess, wait one moment." Her father kissed her head and went off to see to the luggage at an unknown stand.
Blair nodded contently amidst the many crying and screaming people surrounding her. She looked down to her chest and started playing with her heart pendant.
"I like your necklace." Charles looked at her necklace with admiration and interest. "Where did you get it?'
"Thank you, my mother gave it to me, her mother gave it to her before that. Mama passed it on to me before she was gone." Blair sighed sadly and continued to fiddle with the necklace.
"Where did she go?" Charles didn't know why she sparked so much interest to him, but he felt as if he needed to know as much as possible.
"Up there." Blair pointed to the starry night sky that was covered with smoke. The falling snowflakes were spiraling all over the place due to the gusting wind.
Blair never knew her mother. All she did know was that her father loved her very much and that her mother was very close with her own mother - Blair's grandmother Eleanor, who she missed dearly. The mother duchess lived in America, some city that was called New Fork or New Yolk or something alike.
"Oh, I am sorry."
"No worries… Mother always said that: 'No worries' " Blair lightly patted him on the shoulder.
He smiled back at her and she gratefully returned the sentiment and hugged him.
"Stay safe Charles, we'll make it through this. Change is inevitable."
Inevitable, he would remember that word.
As if it had started raining people, greater flocks of men, women, and children piled through on the platform. The train was now loading and people rushed on to it, clinging to the monstrous hunk of metal.
Nola and Charles' nanny boarded first followed by The Archduke who was grasping Charles's and Blair's hands, one in each.
Suddenly, one of his hands felt empty, empty and cold. He turned around to find his daughter missing from his sight. He had a strange feeling washing over him.
"Blair? Little Duchess! Blair…!" he shouted desperately into the crowd with no avail. Even Charles' eyes were looking around frantically for the doe-eyed girl.
"Oh Ana there you are, don't you dare trying to run away from me again. You are my bosom friend." Blair whispered to the doll, which had fallen out of her hands and she had finally found under some stranger's abandoned shoe.
Slowly, the train started sounding off, the whistles were blowing and the engines started to power up. Nicholas was screaming for his daughter and when he had finally caught her eye. He went crazy.
"Blair! Blair! Run, run as if Father had just bought you a new headband, Run Duchess!" he shouted to her. She ran as fast as she could, maneuvering through the smelly, rude people.
"Papa! Wait for me, don't go!" She pleaded to him but he continued to move away on the train. She had to hurry.
Charles looked on with absolute horror as she grasped her father's hand and pleaded more with him.
"Father, please don't let go, I promise I-I'll be a good girl. Please, P-Please don't let go. Papa...Don't…NO!" Blair cried miserably, pleading.
"Blair! No!"
A bulky man who must've weighed at least three hundred pounds, charged through the crowd and knocked Blair off of her dainty little feet. Her hand slipped through her father's and the duke immediately sensed the loss of touch. She stumbled back up to see the train steaming away and she started hyperventilating and ran for shelter in a nearby alley.
She was still being pushed and shoved around and one woman accidentally shoved her against the wall of the building. Feeling dizzy, Blair sank to the ground and lost conscious; hopefully she could wake up and all would be nothing more than a nightmare.
Charles was in the corner cradling his head in his hands, almost mourning the loss of what could've been a dear friend…or more. The women were weeping and praying for the little girl. Nicholas was now alone, the little girl he had loved so much was forever lost. With all of her spunk and beauty, she had the entire world at her feet. It was all useless now, and he had no reason to leave. His daughter – Blair was gone.
Nicholas stared into space through the now closed window on the door. Even as they were long beyond the boarders of the Russian Empire, he continued to stare into space, holding onto the railing that slipped through his daughter's dainty hands.