Chapter VII:
Anette gasped and her head became clear again. Peter yanked open the door and looked at her. "Are you alright?" he asked.
She nodded. "I…remembered something. I was talking to someone. I don't know who it was. He was…older than me, and older than Paul. He told me that Paul wouldn't approve that I was…speaking to you. I…I told him I didn't care what Paul thought."
Peter nodded excitedly. "You said that to Raymond before the ball started." Anette found herself smiling, relieved that another memory had come.
Helena was frowning, and she walked away down the hall. Anette looked at Peter, frowning now. "She doesn't like me," she said quietly. It wasn't a question, it was simply a fact.
"She's having…a hard time believing that you are Anastasia," Peter sighed. He motioned towards the kitchen. "Are you hungry?"
Anette shook her head. "No. I'm fine," she whispered. He looked at her. "Really. Go eat. I'm fine."
"Then get some sleep," he insisted. "I'll show you where you're sleeping." He pulled her down the hallway and into a room with a little bed.
Anette laid down on the little bed and rested her head on the pillow, shutting her eyes and sighing.
Anette tossed and turned that night, a nightmare creeping into her sleeping mind, making her gasp in horror.
A man was yelling at her, but then he stopped and slouched onto the table, an arrow in his chest. Someone pulled her up and pushed her forward. A girl had an arrow sticking out of the back of her head.
Someone with a sword came at her, but instead of killing her all they managed to do was cut her arm before the wall hit his face.
The scenes became quick flashes. Peter sliding the bracelet onto her wrist, arrows flying past her and Judith. The cat streaking across the road. The sound of her screams as she fell off the horse.
Anette drew in a sharp breath and sat up straight in bed, her hair sticking to her face from sweat. Her arm was stinging, and she pulled up her sleeve, grabbing her arm frantically, feeling for blood.
Peter flung the door open and lit a candle, kneeling by her side. Anette sobbing into his shoulder.
"What happened, Anette?" he whispered, petting down her hair.
"I…memories…my father, dead…Beatrice was, too. They tried to…stab me…but they cut my arm instead…the wall swung open…hit him in the face…" she sobbed.
He held her tightly until she was done crying, then he pulled back and traced her scar. "I think we know how you got this, Anette."
Anette nodded, wiping tears from her face. "Yes," she said, her voice cracking as she spoke.
He brushed her matted hair away from her sweaty face and said quietly, "Go back to sleep, Anette. You'll be fine. It's just a memory."
Anette nodded and laid back down on the bed, letting out a small breath and closing her eyes.
Peter came to wake her up the next morning, and when she came out, the heard a little girl laughing and talking to Helena.
When she walked into the kitchen, Helena stopped and looked at her. She said something to the little girl before standing up straight. "Good morning, Anette. This is my daughter Shelby."
Anette smiled at the little girl, and Shelby waved to her. The little girl had blond hair and brown eyes, but she couldn't help be reminded of another little girl, with blond hair and deep blue eyes. Janice.
Shelby bounced up to Anette. "Hi!" she said. "I'm five years old!" She held up five fingers.
"Hello," Anette said, going down to her knees. "My name is Anette." She paused, wondering if she should have said Anastasia, but she shook her head. "You know, Shelby, you remind me of someone."
Shelby smiled. "Who?" she asked.
"My little sister," Anette answered. "She had blond hair, too, and she was always very sweet."
Shelby laughed and clapped. "Did she come too?" Her voice was excited and childish, and she looked very happy.
Anette shook her head. "No, no she's very far away. She stayed with my parents." She felt tears coming to her eyes and she shook her head.
"Do you miss her?" Shelby asked.
Anette looked down at Shelby. "Yes. Yes, I miss her very much." Peter came up and took her hand in his and smiled sadly, leading her out of the house.
Helena had agreed to lend them her horse, and, before getting on, Anette checked her pocket for the necklace, and was less paranoid when she felt it in there. Then Peter helped her onto the horse.
Then Peter yanked on the reins and Anette held tightly around his waist.
Judith lived in a large house in a small town a few hours ride from Helena's house. By the time they had reached the house, Anette was shaking with fear and anticipation and worry.
Peter yanked the reins and the horse stopped. He helped her off, and they went to the door, Anette behind like at Helena's.
He knocked on the door. A servant opened it. "Tell your mistress that Peter Vaugn is here to see her," Peter said. "And he has a surprise."
The servant nodded. "Come in, Master Peter," she said, opening the door wider. She jumped when she saw Anette, but let her in also.
Anette stood behind Peter, so that only about half her face would be showing when Judith got there.
Judith swept down the stairs, and memories flooded Anette's mind. The woman hugging her, asking how old she was, laughing and making jokes. She hid behind Peter even more now.
"Peter!" Judith cried. "What a surprise! What special occasion is this, so that I get to see you?"
Peter smiled. "It is always a pleasure, Miss Judith. And the occasion is her," he said as he moved away and motioned towards Anette.
Judith looked confused. "Who is this?" she asked.
Peter smiled wider. "Judith, I've brought you your long-lost niece, Anastasia." Anette kept her eyes on the ground but heard Judith gasp.
"Ana…Anastasia? I thought…everyone was sure…isn't she dead?" she sputtered. Peter took Anette's arm gently and pushed up the sleeve to reveal the scar and the bracelet. She flinched from the dull pain in her shoulder.
Judith covered her mouth. "My little Anastasia!" she cried, tears streaming down her face and she hugged Anette tightly. Anette smiled, starting to cry, too, and hugged her aunt back. "Where have you been the last five years?"
Anette swallowed. "I…I fell off the horse that night. I hit my head and lost all my memories…but a couple weeks ago they started coming back…" She looked at Judith to see what she thought.
Judith nodded. "I'm just glad you're home!" she said, hugging her again. "Peter, however did you find her?"
"She was exploring the old castle and I caught her. I didn't fully realize who she was until I saw the bracelet." He pointed to the pale bracelet on her wrist.
Anette rolled her eyes, wanting to mention he'd realized it, and then kissed her before telling her anything.
Judith nodded. "I'll never be able to thank you enough, Peter. You've reunited the last of the Collins after too many years."
Anette smiled and looked at Peter. "No thanks necessary, Judith," he said. "I wanted to find her as much as you did."
Judith nodded. "Come Anastasia, I know you where your room is, and Peter, I'll have Bethesda show you yours."
Anette didn't move, because Judith had called her Anastasia, which she hadn't been called in years.
"Anastasia? Anastasia!" Judith called. Anette jumped and hurried off to join her aunt by the stairs.
"Judith?" Peter said. "Anastasia lost her memory, and the closest name she could come to was Anette. She had few memories of being called Anastasia."
Judith's face was still smiling, but her eyes were sad. "I'll get used to it again," she said quickly. "It's my real name and I want to use it."
Judith said, "You don't have to, darling. Anette is a beautiful name."
"But it's not my name. I was once Anastasia and I want to be her again," Anette said firmly.
Judith and Peter didn't argue with her, and her aunt pulled her up and led her into a large bedroom, but smaller than the one at the palace. She gasped and looked around the huge room.
"Aunt Judith, I…" Anette started, but Judith held up a hand.
"You're a princess, Anastasia. And my niece. You deserve only the best. Which is why I never understood when your father engaged you to Paul…" she trailed off, pain echoing through her eyes.
Anette looked down. "What hurts more?" she asked quietly. "Paul's betrayal or my father's death?"
"Frederick's death," Judith said. "I would let Paul take over anything if it meant my family would live." She sighed and smiled sadly at Anette. "But we're both still alive, which means Paul failed. I just hope one day something similar happens to him."
Anette nodded. "Peter has a niece, and she reminded me so much of Janice. I can remember barely anything of her and Raymond, but it still hurt so badly."
Judith's eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Janice. How someone can be so ruthless to kill a five year old I will never know."
"I asked Peter about that," Anette said. "He said only someone greedy and selfish would do anything like that."
Judith nodded. "Paul…that's what he is." She looked at Anette and hugged her tightly. "You have to promise me you'll never go back to Navera. It's too dangerous for you now."
Anette nodded. "I won't, Aunt Judith, I promise," she said, hugging her aunt back. Judith looked at her right shoulder.
"You've barely moved your right arm," she said. "Did something happen to it? What's wrong?"
"I…soldiers were chasing up yesterday, and an arrow missed me completely but cut me a little on my shoulder," Anette explained. "It hurts to move."
Judith nodded. "I hope it will feel better soon," she said, patting her uninjured shoulder. "And that it does not get infected."
Anette hugged Judith. "Thank you, Aunt Judith. For everything," she sighed. "I'm sorry for everything I put you through these past years."
Judith pulled away and looked at Anette. "That is all made up for now. Who took care of you, though, after you lost your memory?"
"A woman named Victoria. She told me if I had no place to go I could stay there with her," Anette said.
"I'll have to thank her someday," Judith murmered. "Oh! I know! Let's write her a letter, you and me! I doubt you told her where you were going." She raised her eyebrows at Anette.
"I left her a note that said I was looking for family," she said. "But we should tell her I got here safely."
Judith went over to the desk and picked up a piece of paper and started writing on it. Before she folded it, she offered Anette the pen, but she shook her head. Writing to Mama would probably make her cry.
Judith closed it and handed it to a servant to have delivered to Mama quickly. Anette sat on the bed and thought about what Mama's face would look like when she received the letter from Judith.
Not that she would ever see her mother's face again.
Judith came over and sat next to her, putting her arm around her in a one-armed hug. "What's wrong, Anastasia?"
Anette shrugged. "I'm going to miss Victoria some, that's all," she said, turning to smile sadly at Judith.
Judith returned her sad smile. "You will probably be able to go visit in a year or two, once the excitement of your reappearance has died down."
Anette nodded. "Yes, I know. But I'll miss her until then." She paused. "My friend Loraine said that there's a law in Navera that allows any past family member that was from the royal family to take back the throne from whoever is currently ruling. Is that true?"
Judith nodded. "Yes. But you mustn't think of doing that. Paul will have you killed before you can say a single word."
Anette nodded. "I wasn't thinking about doing it. It was just a question." But of course, she was thinking of doing it.
