In London, a refugee from Soviet Russia named Pavel Voronov picked up his morning newspaper and browsed the headlines. What he found surprised him so much that he almost dropped his coffee cup. Could it really be that she'd actually been found alive? But how was that possible? Pavel remembered reading of her death, along with those of her family, with tears in his eyes. How was it possible that she was alive once more?
Of one thing he was absolutely certain, and that was that he must travel to Paris to see for himself as soon as possible. Too excited to finish eating breakfast, Pavel prepared to leave for France right away.
"Home?" asked Dimitri. "But I don't understand. Where's home?"
"We live in Paris now, Dimitri," said Anastasia. "Russia was taken over by the Bolsheviks. They forced my father to abdicate and set up their own Communist government. You helped me get to Paris and find my grandmother. Don't you remember anything at all?"
Dimitri shook his head. "No, I'm sorry. I don't."
"Rasputin followed us there. He wanted to kill me and fulfill the curse he'd cast on our family. You saved my life, Dimitri. He tried to make me drown myself but you saved me. Then after I finally found my grandmother, he tried to kill me again, but you saved me again. We killed him and broke his reliquary, Dimitri. Then we got married and honeymooned on the Tasha. Then my family came back to life and found us."
Dimitri just shook his head. "You're very beautiful, but I'm afraid I don't remember any of the things you've told me. So I'm actually married to you? I'm your husband, and you're my wife?"
"Yes, Dimitri." Tears flowed copiously down Anastasia's face. "I love you."
"I'm so sorry," Dimitri said. "I do wish very badly that I could remember."
Olga and Tatiana were talking to their grandmother, catching up on the past ten years, when they heard a knock on the door. Olga answered it and couldn't believe her eyes when she saw Pavel standing there, holding a huge bouquet of flowers.
"Pasha!" she cried. "Is is really you?"
"Olga!" Pavel exclaimed. "So the story was true! You really are alive again!"
He handed Olga the flowers, and Tatiana hurried to find a vase for them. As soon as her arms were free, Olga turned to Pavel, who embraced her in a big bear hug.
"I thought that I would never see you again," Pavel mumbled into Olga's hair.
"How's your wife?" Olga asked Pavel when they finally separated.
"I lost her in the influenza epidemic ten years ago," Pavel told her.
"I'm so sorry," Olga said.
"I don't understand, Olga," said Pavel. "How'd you do it? How'd you come back?"
"I truly don't understand it," Olga replied. "I'm just ever so thankful for another chance to live out my life and do all the things I want to do. I'll never take that for granted again."
"I really loved you, you know," Pavel said softly.
"I really loved you too, Pasha," said Olga. "It broke my heart that we couldn't be together."
"I never forgot you, Olga." Pavel's voice was soft, and tears were in his eyes as he reached for her hand. "My Valentina was a wonderful woman, and I loved her dearly, but I never forgot you."
"Thank you for coming to see me, and for bringing the flowers," Olga said with a smile. "It almost seems like old times again, doesn't it?"
"Yes, it does." Pavel leaned closer to Olga and gazed into her eyes. "Olga, my darling, the feelings you once had for me, are they still there?"
Olga nodded. "They never went away, Pasha. I truly did wish happiness for you and Valentina, but I never ceased to secretly wish that I was in her place."
Pavel looked positively jubilant. "Olga, my love, now that...well, now that things aren't as they were before...do you think there's a chance that your father would grant his approval for us to wed?"
"Oh, Pasha." Tears of joy streamed down Olga's face. Never in a million years would she have guessed that she would soon be sitting beside Pavel, hearing him ask her that question. "I shall ask him as soon as I can, but I don't see any reason why he wouldn't agree now."
"This is where we live now, Dimitri," Anastasia said as she, Maria, and Alexei led her husband up the steps of their home. The Dowager Empress heard them coming and rushed to the door.
"Dimitri, dear, you're all right!" she cried with relief at the sight of her grandson-in-law.
"He has amnesia, Grandmama," Anastasia said mournfully. "He doesn't remember anything at all."
"Oh, no!" the Dowager Empress moaned.
