Bulletproof Jewels Chapter 16: The worst thing that could happen, an anastasia fanfic

July 23rd, 1918.

Olga Nikolaevna Romanova.

Sergei wakes us just before midnight as he told us he would.

"I am sorry to wake you up, Your Imperial Highnesses, it is time to get off", Sergei informs us. "We will stay in a hotel just a couple of blocks away from here for the night. You can continue sleeping there." He then turns to my brother. "I hope Your Imperial Highness is feeling much better."

"Yes, thank you Sergei", Alexei sits up. I really hope he means it, my precious golden-hearted baby brother.

I didn´t leave his side after I started singing to him. I managed to make myself comfortable some other way, lying pretty much under him since there was not much space.

We slept side by side as I continued stroking his hair. I could tell he was delighted, and once again showered me with affection in return. I really think he feels sorry for me, which doesn´t truly offend me. I feel sorry for him as well.

I had dared to hope some miracle would exempt him from another hemophilia attack, but how could that have been possible with the way that man kicked him?

I kiss Alexei´s cheeks over and over again until he becomes annoyed with me. Then I stand up.

I really thought for a moment I was losing him yesterday. I was preparing myself. I think this has been his worst attack ever, and sadly, I don´t think it has ended yet.

As it always happens, God did not allow him to die. I am so grateful for your mercy God.

Seeing myself through his innocent eyes renewed my love for life, at least for a moment, but the poor dear thinks I have not pondered about all the compliments he gave me. I have. I just feel wary about taking them too seriously. He loves me way too much and knows little about life. Love can cloud one´s judgment.

Poor Sergei. As he leaves I remember the kind and fatherly way he reacted to my brother´s disease. Few people outside our family circle actually know the nature of my brother´s illness. Yesterday, Sergei became one of those few. Alexei looks scared of him for some reason though.

"He looked very distressed to see you like that last night", I whisper to him, referring to Sergei. "He told me he understands now more than ever that you are still a child who needs protection, and apologized to me for pressuring you yesterday."

He nods, appearing a bit calmer.

I had never dealt with any of my brother´s attacks on my own. Yesterday, all I wished was for Tatiana to be there to comfort me as if she were my older sister. We would have handled it better together. I was a sobbing mess half of the time, embarrassing myself shamefully. Tanya would have comforted me, taken the lead, helped Anastasia and Valeriy better I could have.

I barely did anything to help Alyosha. I just explained to the Kirilovs all I knew about his illness and stayed by his side most of the time. Praying for him, holding his hand and kissing his dear face for what could have been the last time. I spent every instant possible doing so. I thought he was dying and was not going to waste my last moments with him.

Anastasia and Valeriy did the actual work. They came up with ideas on how to treat him. Tatiana would not have been as passive.

Thinking of Tanya makes me miss her so much. I have so much to tell her. She must have so much to tell me. I am so tired of my life being a Greek tragedy. I long to laugh and talk about trivial everyday stuff with my favorite sister. I want to sunbathe with her.

I don´t care whether we are going to spend most of our time together discussing important subjects we read about in the newspapers or pure silliness, all I want is to feel as if we could read each other´s thoughts.

I pray we will soon enough be together again in Crimea. The thought of how long that moment will take to arrive is almost painful.

We get out of the train. Valeriy and Sergei carry my brother on the stretcher as usual. There are several soldiers walking through the station, which frightens me.

"Don´t worry, they are regular soldiers coming from the front", Valeriy explains to me. "They are not looking for us."

We manage to walk out of the train station without trouble. I look back at the building we left. It is a beautiful white edifice, like Livadia. I daydream about seeing my godmother again. Olga must be worried sick after weeks without news from us. I also wonder about my grandmother´s health. I hope she is alright.

Some red guards start walking parallel to us in the street. I find their lack of consistent uniforms amusing. Only the rifles and bayonets in their arms are similar. Some of them also wear red arm brassards. What has Russia come to? I feel relatively confident until one soldier in a group of three men points a finger straight at my brother. He looks young, around my age.

"Stop", the red guard says as he blocks our way. He raises his arm and extends the palm of his hand towards us. His hair is brown, and his eyes are green. "We are going to need you to come with us", he tells us.

Now I am genuinely afraid. The two other red guards approach us.

"Wait!" Sergei yells, giving Anastasia his side of the stretcher to carry. "What is this about? We have done nothing wrong".

"I am just following orders", the red guard replies. "Come with us please."

"We are loyal comrades on a quest to stir up the spirits of the proletariat against their oppressors, do you see this young red guard? He was wounded in battle fighting against counterrevolutionaries while being little more than a child, and yet here you are, old enough to be at the front but interfering with our genuine attempts to lift up the workers´ morale instead without even explaining why."

Sergei looks at my brother and then back at the man as he speaks with a melodramatic tone of voice so ridiculous it would have made me laugh in different circumstances. He sounds as if he were giving a speech.

It was good enough to fool the red guards last time though, so I am not complaining. I remember I am supposed to be acting, so I glare at the group of red guards up and down. Anastasia and Valeriy remain calm. Alexei has a stupid grin on his face. He finds this fun and exciting.

An old and ugly fat guard with dark eyes, hair, and beard whispers something in the ear of the man next to him, a redhead. They are both examining me and my brother with interest. I get the urge to cross myself, but that would only give us away.

"You have nothing to fear if you have nothing to hide", the guard who stopped us says. "I do admire this young man if you are indeed speaking the truth, it will only be a few minutes." His green eyes travel between me and my brother. My heart starts beating really fast.

I try to keep my act up, but it is becoming impossible. What if Sergei, Valeriy or Anastasia have compromising letters? What if they recognize my brother? It would not be that hard. Our pictures have always circulated abundantly throughout the Empire. Sergei´s act worked very well last time, but those red guards appeared to be from lower ranks. This man seems much more confident in his authority.

Maybe Alexei has grown tall enough for them to overlook him. None of his official pictures show how tall he is now, although he definitely hasn´t grown tall enough to be confused for anything other than a child, which is what they are looking for. I start having trouble breathing again, like that time I stabbed the bandit. I hate it when this happens.

Wanting to make sure my brother is fine, I stand closer to him and grab his hand. He smiles at me and squeezes mine as I try to steady my breathing. I regret doing it though. There is no way they are going to believe I am really trying to join the reds now. My brother becomes a bit alarmed when he notices my anxiety. I have made things worse.

"I have nothing to hide", Sergei replies. "I was a political prisoner in Siberia while you were still in diapers, what have you done for the revolution?"

"Nothing as great", the young guard sounds annoyed now. "But the way you brag about it makes me doubt your intentions, a true revolutionary is humble".

"I am from the All Russian Extraordinary Commission comrade", Sergei states in a firm and serious tone, showing the man the same badge he showed the previous red guards. It must definitely be a fake badge or one he acquired working for the British intelligence. "If there is anyone whose intentions must be questioned, that is you", he continues, making the green-eyed man appear scared for the first time. "I wasn't aware getting off a train was a good reason to arrest someone. I have never considered it so."

I relax and start thinking of a way to help Sergei by playing my part. I am a young woman in my twenties. I already passionately believed in the revolutionary cause before the foreign counterrevolutionaries attacked me, which only strengthened my stance. I am going to become a soldier to take revenge, something rare in a woman, which means I think little of men who do not fight when it is them who should be crowding the trains for the front. How would I react to this situation?

I think of Felix Yusupov, one of Grigori Rasputin´s murderers and Cousin Irina´s husband. He belonged to the wealthiest family in the nation. They were even richer than my father, the actual Emperor. Felix was a healthy man, but he never fought, sitting idle during most of the war. I still think little of him.

"I am sorry", the guard in front of us talks with restrain, still observing us with suspicion. "But I have been ordered to investigate every young lad lying on a stretcher I see traveling with a woman… with a face like that". The man gestures towards my brother and then me, but his eyes remain on Sergei. "My apologies, but I can´t really see why she would be traveling in this pitiful state, and the combination is indeed a huge coincidence."

"Not everyone has been lucky enough to experience a pain-free life, comrade," I snap at the guard in a harsh tone. "Perhaps the relative ease of your comfortable job has made you forget what the revolution really is. It is paid in blood, not in hours".

"I will just search you quickly…" he approaches us.

"We insist we have nothing to hide, comrade!" Sergei exclaims. "We are going to be late for our meeting, and this young woman over here was attacked by counterrevolutionaries and foreign invaders, the people you should be searching for. She is now joining the Red Army, and if I may say so, she will be fighting at the front, not doing menial tasks. She is not the woman you are looking for, and neither is this brave lad, but I wish you luck finding them."

I look at the guard with pride in my eyes. My brother does the same.

"Ugh, I can´t wait to get out of here", I say after a few seconds when I see he doesn´t plan to back down.

"I know it is probably not you", the man continues, "but I really need to consider all the possibilities".

"We have already explained to you who we are and why we are here, and have shown you proof we are not the people you are searching for", Sergei gives him a deadly stare. If you continue bothering us and wasting our time, I will be forced to open an investigation regarding your real motives."

"You are completely mistaken!" The red guard exclaims, sounding more fearful than offended. "I am indeed doing my job! I have orders!"

"Really?!" Sergei´s tone is accusatory. He raises his eyebrows in disbelief. "Oh, I am sorry then, you must obviously be telling the truth, you are definitely not a saboteur. You just curiously use the same tactics I have seen them use before".

"I am not!" The man yells defensively.

"I am going to need evidence for that", Sergei takes out a notebook and a pencil from his suitcase and immediately prepares to write. "Who do you receive orders from?"

I cannot believe my ears. Sergei is now the one questioning the red guard.

I look over to Alexei. My brother is trying not to smile, so I give him a stern look.

"Comrade Igor Pyotrovich Turov", the red guard nervously answers. He leans over to see what our friend is writing, and when he sees that Sergei is still staring at him with suspicion, continues revealing valuable information: "And he received orders to take charge of the entire investigation straight from Sverdlov, who acted with the permission of Lenin".

Sergei writes everything down.

"Have you ever met Sverdlov in person?" Sergei asks him.

"No, no, but I am sure of it."

"How can you be sure of it if you have never seen him? This does not add up, Sverdlov is too busy to be ordering such a petty investigation, do you even have their signatures? What is the investigation even about? Answer!"

The way Sergei barks the questions and orders manages to scare the red guard.

"I am not supposed to reveal this information to anyone!" He exclaims. "Not even the Cheka! Please come with us! It is an order!" Sweat is running down his forehead.

Sergei continues arguing with the man confidently, he responds that the Cheka has the same authority, so he can´t order him to do anything.

I lay down my guard just as the redhead and the ugly man begin moving closer towards me. They stare at my face, so I pretend that offends me and turn my head around. I pray they did not recognize me.

"I am not sure about her, but I am sure it is him", I hear the black-haired man whisper to the red hair. My heart starts beating fast. I pray these other two men do not manage to convince the young one that we are indeed the ones they are searching for.

I see the black-haired man move out of the corner of my eye. He grabs my brother by the arms and removes him from the stretcher so quickly that it takes a second for either Anastasia or Valeriy to react.

It is too sudden for me as well to grasp what is happening with clarity, so fear rushes throughout my entire body a little too late. My baby brother starts screaming almost immediately. Anastasia tries to grab him back, but the black-haired man doesn´t let go. He uses one of his hands to grab his rifle and hit her in the shoulder and outer thigh with it, so hard it makes her collapse.

I keep holding my brother´s hand tightly, but almost at the same time he is removed from the stretcher, I feel the redhead grab me by the waist.

He drags me the opposite way. He is trying to force me to let go.

I grab my brother´s hand even tighter. With all my strength. With all my soul. I yell for help and try to use my other arm to hit the man with my elbow.

I am unsuccessful. The man´s strength becomes too much, and with one great pull, I am forced to let go of Alyosha´s hand.

I start screaming in terror.

This can´t be happening. I blink repeatedly in order to wake up, but it isn´t a nightmare.

The man carrying my brother is grabbing him by the torso with only one arm. He uses his other arm to hold his rifle, leaving my brother´s hands free for him to struggle fiercely but uselessly.

The man starts running away, taking my baby brother away from me. My mind fills with anguish. I keep screaming for him. He screams for me as well as we extend each other´s arms pathetically.

I see Valeriy on the ground, holding his nose. The redhead must have punched when he also tried to help me. He stands up and approaches Anastasia to see if she is alright.

I burst into a rage. I move and struggle frantically against the man grabbing me. I hit him over and over again. He reacts by dropping and kicking me in the stomach more than one time, leaving me without air, which fills me with terrifying memories. Hearing my brother scream my name in terror makes it all the more similar. I become a sobbing mess.

The man picks me up again and grabs a revolver from his hip.

"No!" I hear Alyosha sob. "Leave her!" I want to yell at my brother to use his own revolver as soon as I remember it, but I genuinely can´t even speak. I barely have enough air to sob.

I remember the knife under my shirt and try to grab it, but the horrifying sound of a gunshot stops me. It startles me. It makes my heart skip a beat. I hate that sound. I hate it. I don't want to listen to it ever again.

My brother starts screaming hysterically for me, even louder than before, but I cannot see him any longer. Alexei is definitely further away and yet sounds louder. He must think I am the one who was shot, but the red-haired man has fallen, and he is the one whose stomach is bleeding.

The shooter is Sergei, who then moves to chase after the other man, who has already taken my brother considerably far. I am hopeful for a second.

The green-eyed guy pulls out his revolver as soon as he composes himself after the shock and shoots Sergei before he can even take one step towards the man who took my brother.

Blood pours out of our loyal savior's chest, but I refuse to believe it. Not him God, why? I scream even louder. Why is this happening?

As soon as Sergei´s body collapses, Anastasia grabs me tightly by the arm and drags me away, far enough to be safe from the shooting.

Valeriy stays still, paralyzed, watching the entire scene unfold. The guard who stopped us goes over to check on the red-haired man who was just shot in the stomach, and Valeriy uses the opportunity to grab Sergei´s gun and run in the direction of the man who took my brother.

I move to go with him, but Kirilova´s tight grasp stops me. I hate Anastasia Kirilova at this moment so much that it scares me.

"We meet in the hotel, my love!" Valeriy yells to his wife before he starts running even faster, probably fearing the brown-haired man will go after him. The latter does realize Valeriy is gone when he hears him yell, and raises his head.

"Come on! My husband will save him!" Anastasia exclaims as she drags me back to the train station.

"No!" I scream back, struggling against her. My baby brother is being taken and this woman does not seem to care. I see the young guard turn his attention towards us and I finally listen to Anastasia.

We run inside the train station aimlessly for minutes until we are sure the man is not following us. We hide among the crowd once we slow down. It is only then that I notice other people around us have been running and shouting because of the gunshots.

This didn't happen. This didn't just happen. A lump forms in my throat, and the entire world goes black before I hit the ground.

I find myself surrounded by people when I wake up lying on the floor. Anastasia is right next to me, supporting my head with her hand.

"Breathe in, breathe out", Kirilova coaxes me as she helps me stand up. I can hardly breathe. I do not need her comfort. I am annoyed by it. I need my brother back.

I refuse to accept this just happened. It is too horrible to describe. I can´t protect him now. Anything bad could happen to him.

"She is alright", Anastasia assures the people still standing around me, and most of them walk away. Then she helps me stand up.

Everything I have suffered for this not to happen was for nothing. He may die alone after all. With no one to comfort him.

I scream loudly, and tears roll down my cheeks as I do.

My mind has finally accepted it. My brother has been taken and now I have to start thinking of how to get him back instead of daydreaming about how great it will be when the five of us are finally together in Crimea again.

I scream again louder, bending over my stomach.

"Shh! Shh!" Anastasia puts her index finger on her lips whilst keeping her hand on my back. She wants me to be quiet. I realize I am still crying out loud, and now I am angry at her.

I stop screaming, but then use my palms to hit her twice on the shoulders, hard, something I immediately regret once I see her rubbing them. I have hurt her.

I stand still, turn around and put a hand on my forehead to continue weeping.

"I am just as shocked as you are, I can´t believe this just happened", Anastasia says.

"No, you are not!" I yell back, turning back around to face her. I point a finger at her. "I doubt you are even capable of feeling compassion for any children at all".

She seems hurt by my statement, but I do not care.

"You are being unfair, your pain is blinding you", she mutters. "Don´t forget my husband is also in danger."

"Which wouldn't be the case if you hadn´t let that man take Alexei!" I cry.

I am still angry with her. I am angry with Valeriy, with Sergei, with myself for not doing enough to protect him. I am even angry with my brother for yet again refusing to use his damn revolver. Stupid boy.

God is the only one who escapes my rage because I know I am not supposed be mad at Him, which makes me angrier at everything and anything, at things that have nothing to do with what just happened. The people passing by, the trains, the clock hanging over us…

Some of the people walking or standing nearby are observing us, curious about my yelling and subsequent argument with Anastasia.

I feel ashamed of my outburst, ashamed of my rage, of talking nonsense. Ashamed of being angry with Sergei especially. He died to save me.

God, please forgive me, help me be better. I cross myself. Mama always cautioned me against my outbursts of anger. She used to say it was unladylike.

I thought I had left most of my bad temper behind back in my teenage years, when I largely stopped answering back to my mother with a bad attitude. I cross myself again.

I let out a loud sob, and Kirilova hugs me. I hug her back, but the hug doesn´t help. My anger is just transformed into anxiety.

"I am sorry", I apologize. "I didn't mean any of that".

"It is alright", she answers, but I can tell she felt insulted and is restraining herself from protesting what I said. I completely understand why. I may not like what she does, but what I said has no basis on truth. I witnessed the way she helped me take care of Alexei tirelessly. I know she held his hand as dutifully as any Sister of Mercy would have whenever I was too tired to stay awake.

"What are we going to do now?" I ask her in a small raspy voice, wiping my tears.

"I think we lost the guard who stopped us, if he even followed us at all", she replies. "We need to see if we can grab Sergei´s suitcase before any other red guards in the station take it. There is important information inside. If it makes you feel better, we can look for your brother and my husband right after instead of waiting for them at the hotel."

"How?"

"I remember the direction the man took. Maybe my husband succeeded in stopping him, don't lose hope."

I nod, refusing to acknowledge there is even a possibility Valeriy might fail to save my brother.

My eyes dry. I choose to have hope and start praying for Valeriy to succeed and for God to forgive me for my shameful behavior.

Sergei´s body is surrounded by dozens of curious people. Anastasia takes his suitcase. I can hardly believe no one stole it.

"Shouldn't we take his body to his family?" I ask Anastasia. My mind is filled with anguish for this poor man. I hate seeing his body. It just makes it all the more real.

"We can´t Olga, I am sorry", she answers in a murmur. "How would we be able to travel with it? We do not even have enough money for the casket, or to pay someone to embalm him, not when we have to travel and pay for hotels. We have his pictures and letters here. That is all we can give to his family."

"But what is going to happen to his body then?"

"I am afraid he will end up in a common grave."

Kirilova walks with the suitcase as I follow her closely behind. Whenever I am not thinking of my brother I can´t stop thinking about Sergei. He deserved better than this, a proper burial.

I remember my parents. They didn't have a proper burial either. That man who taunted Maria talked about how they were going to throw acid at their corpses. I am disgusted. A sudden rush of grief for my parents washes over me at the thought of not having at least been able to say goodbye to their bodies. I was taken out of the murder room too fast.

We walk and walk in the direction the man who took my brother went and Valeriy apparently followed. We find nothing, so we ask the people passing by.

"Yes, I did see a man carrying a boy, he was walking backwards", one man testifies after we have asked tens of people. "I saw him from the balcony of my house, he shot a woman passing by".

I am shocked by those news. That brute. I hope my brother is alright.

"Do you have any idea where they went?" Anastasia asks.

"They went straight two blocks and then they turned left", the man answers.

"Thank you", Anastasia says.

We find neither Alexei nor the man who took him when we arrive at the location the man indicated. We do find Alexei´s empty revolver on the way though. It makes me imagine the worst.

We walk a block further.

"Valeriy!" Anastasia suddenly shrieks as she bolts towards her husband. He is lying on the side of the street moaning. She locates the source of the wound and applies pressure with her hands.

I notice a body lying near Valeriy when I rush to help Anastasia. It belongs to the green-eyed guard who stopped us at the train station.

I suspect Valeriy killed the young red guard who followed him but failed to kill the man who took Alexei. My heart starts beating really fast. My anxiety increases. I am even sweating. I might be having a stroke, is it possible?

I restrain myself from asking Valeriy what happened and where in God´s name is my brother. Poor Valeriy can´t even talk right now. This situation is too terrible to bear. It is clear he did not succeed but I refuse to believe it.

I breathe deeply several times and focus instead on helping Anastasia put pressure on the wound while she takes out bandages from her bag.

I keep my mind on my job, trying to get over my inherent dislike of blood, trying not to think of my parents´ blood staining our clothes that night, of blood flying out of papa, of blood running down my thighs, pouring out of my brother´s ear… trying not to die of worry.

The wound is on the lower side of Valeriy´s torso. He may live.

"I am here", Anastasia whispers to her husband, putting her hand on his cheek. "I am here." She is already crying.

A man and a woman arrive on the scene. The man has a white beard and brings a suitcase with him. The woman looks around 30 and brings a stretcher.

"There he is", says the woman to the man in a worried tone of voice, "I told you."

The woman lives nearby. She heard the shooting and called a local doctor.

Anastasia, the new doctor, and I stop the bleeding with the help of our bandages and the ones the doctor brought. After that, we take Valeriy to the local infirmary where he works.

The nurses of the infirmary do not allow Anastasia to help with the surgery. One of them says she would be too fearful for her husband to be of any use.

Kirilova and I wait outside the operating room, sitting in a small living room next to the patient beds.

Many of the patients are wounded soldiers, but there are also others quarantined due to illness in different rooms.

Anastasia has already taken her veil off for comfort. The doctor and nurses fight to save Valeriy´s life as she sobs, rubbing her arms up and down. Her white nursing uniform is immediately stained in blood, the sight of which is even more unbearable now than it was while I worked as a nurse.

I care so little about the fact Valeriy´s life is in danger. I feel ungrateful and guilty, but I am just worried sick about my brother. I do not tell this to Anastasia though. It would be insensitive and I am not yet a monster. She is absolutely anxious already, and there is nothing she can do for my brother right now.

The only thing I can do is pray. I pray for both Valeriy and Alexei.

I wonder what will happen to my brother now. Will they execute him immediately for escaping? Will he stay a prisoner for years under solitary confinement like Ivan VI until he loses his mind?

My mind diverts to Ivan VI, who was just a baby when he was made Emperor. Empress Elizabeth took the throne soon after and Ivan was separated from his family, imprisoned for what remained of his life. My ancestress Catherine the Great then ordered him to be murdered if anyone ever attempted to release him. Ivan VI was killed when he was 23.

I think of an even earlier tragic figure. Tsarevich Ivan Dmitriyevich, the son of one of the fake Dimitris during the Time of Troubles, was hanged like a thief when he was only three years old for no crime other than being related to an impostor. The first Romanov Tsar, Michael I, was sovereign at the time.

The Romanov dynasty began with the murder of an innocent child. I can´t bear to think what that means for my brother. Legend even says the mother of this martyred toddler cursed the dynasty before dying.

Maybe this is divine retribution for the way our ancestors treated those innocent boys. If I ever shared these thoughts with her, Tatiana would say our suffering might indeed be the product of a curse. She has always been very superstitious. Or maybe God has sent me all these trials to help me acknowledge ugly things about my family I never truly considered before, other than maybe naively thinking people were much better now than in past centuries.

I used to admire Catherine the Great. I thought her lovers were the most sinful and scandalous aspect of her life, and the fate of Ivan VI was just some tragic afterthought for me. He was not my brother. Now my family is the afterthought of the new regime. We are just a means to an end, a potential threat to their power just like those children were.

I still can´t accept this though. My brother does not deserve this. My siblings do not deserve this, or even my parents. We are not our ancestors.

I am his older sister, so I may be biased, but never have I ever met a more conscientious child than Alexei. Never have I encountered a child as concerned about other people´s troubles. I remember with nostalgia the time he defended a cook who was refused a position. It happened before the revolution. My brother argued with our parents all day long until the cook was indeed taken back. Papa told me all about it later with a huge grin on his face, clearly proud of his son´s early signs of a strong will. Alyosha stood up for all of his own. I am filled with grief when I think of my father and how much I miss our talks.

God, I am going to miss them both so much!

The shock dissipates. Anastasia´s tears eventually move me. Since I met her our relationship has been awkward and formal, like that of a nurse and a one-time patient.

I have never seen her looking so fragile. She must love Valeriy the way mama loved papa. For the first time, the fact Valeriy tried to save my brother sinks in. What a good man. I truly hope he survives.

The worst part is all of this could have been avoided. I am so fretful and disillusioned I might burst. I do not follow the same advice I gave Alyosha. I simply can´t stop thinking about what ifs.

"My stupid brother didn't do the simplest thing again!" I suddenly grumble.

"What?" Anastasia wipes her tears, clearly startled by the way I referred to my brother.

"I am so sorry about all of this. It was my fault", I lament. "If my brother had used the revolver in order to scare the men away, your husband would not have been shot. I was the one who put the gun inside Alexei´s pocket. It is simply what I was used to, but I have pockets in this new sweater you gave me. I should have kept the gun."

"No, no, don't say that", Kirilova says. "They took us completely by surprise. Last time our act worked so well that we were not prepared for it not to. Those other two guards just went ahead and grabbed you and your brother, they didn't listen to anything we had to say. I doubt a gun would have helped much, they were also armed."

"This was indeed all my fault for being careless", I insist. "I really thought the worst part was over and lowered my guard. I had my head in the clouds and did not even think or consider anything and now Sergei is dead and both my brother and your husband could die at any minute, this is all my fault."

By the time I finish talking, I am crying again. I lay my elbow on the arm of the sofa and rest my head on the palm of my hand, covering my face.

"If it is anyone´s fault it is everyone´s", Kirilova says. "We should all have been more careful",

We remain in awkward silence for a while. I keep crying for my brother. Anastasia cries for her husband.

I can´t stop moving my legs and biting my nails. I weep silently whenever I am not choking with sobs, and I have trouble breathing all the time, even when it appears I don´t. Anastasia notices and breathes deeply in order to be able to speak.

"I understand how terrible the uncertainty is", Kirilova tells me with tears in her eyes. "I would be lying if I told you we have a plan for this, we don´t, but we have Sergei´s notebook, where he wrote about the man searching for your brother, and the British intelligence must have connections here in Moscow as well. I promise we won´t stop searching for him."

"Yes please!" I sob "You can´t give up on my brother!"

Despite knowing it is unlikely they will find him, my mind is comforted by the fact something will be done. This is not the end. I haven´t abandoned him, I haven´t let Tatiana down. Anastasia assures me that they won´t give up and I start breathing relatively better, but I still can´t stop moving my legs.

July 24th, 1918.

"Your husband was very brave to follow that man", I note in gratitude after a few minutes, hoping to cheer Kirilova up. "And I am sorry I didn't say this before, but I am very grateful for everything you two have done, Sergei as well. I have prayed a lot for your husband to get better."

"I appreciate that", Anastasia gives me a tearful smile. "I hope God listens, and believe me, I am just as surprised by what he did as you are. If you knew him better you would see why. He once told me he had decided to study medicine so if a war ever broke out he wouldn't have to fight", Anastasia makes a short chuckling sound and then cleans her face with a handkerchief. "He never served at the front as a medic either, he and I worked in a military hospital far away from all the fighting, which is where we met."

"Really?" I ask. "Did you work together?" I put my hand under my chin and look at her with interest, hoping she will continue the story. Anastasia smiles and nods.

"At first the only thing he did was boss me around more than necessary, he asked me to help him with surgeries more than he asked the other nurses", she begins. "One day, I started answering ´no´ to everything he asked me to do because he was beginning to drive me crazy. I always ended up doing it anyway, of course, sometimes I did it while saying ´no´. It later became an inside joke for us, and it just… started to grow from there".

She smiles, looking down at her hands shyly while telling the story. I can´t help but think about how ridiculous it is that we are talking about this considering how sick with worry I am. My legs haven't stopped moving and my head is starting to hurt as well. I am still glad to hear about it though.

That is how I would have met my husband if I were a normal girl and not a Grand Duchess, while working as a nurse in a hospital. I feel a twinge of jealousy. None of those horrible things would have happened to me if I were a commoner either. My brother and sisters would be safe in my arms, my parents as well. Those thoughts make me sad, just more what ifs. I hope God helps me accept His will.

"It is strange he ended up working for the British intelligence in these times then", I joke, wiping my tears.

"I suggested it", Anastasia reveals with a smile, looking as if she were recalling good memories. "I have always been way more adventurous, although he is the one who was the most bothered by the events of October of last year. He hopes our allies will do something to help us once the Great War is over, that is what made him accept".

"I really hope the allies do help our motherland", I say, and I feel more confident to talk to her after all she has revealed about herself. "You have no idea of how lucky you are."

Anastasia cocks her head in confusion.

"I don't mean now, forgive me", I chuckle, and she nods in understanding. "I mean you are lucky nothing could stop you from marrying him. He is a good man."

"Talking from experience?" She asks, and I nod.

"It was a soldier I nursed… Mitya". My darling Mitya, is how I call him to myself. I last saw him about two years ago, before the revolution, and I have not gotten news from him in months.

"You were in love with him?" Anastasia´s eyes spark.

"I think so", I answer shyly. It just occurs to me how little I actually know about love compared to women like Anastasia, or my own cousin Irina. And they are both just slightly older than me! It feels strange to me now, with everything that has happened, to know about the things they do… with their husbands, I suppose. I start telling Anastasia my story:

"I can´t know for sure whether my girlish crush on him could be considered love, but we loved talking, especially on the balcony while I knitted. I was always so glad to see him, the hours felt like seconds, and when he was away I sent him letters. One time, when I received a letter from him, I threw all of my things and jumped around. I asked a friend if it was possible to have a stroke at twenty. I genuinely thought I was having one".

Just like I felt an hour ago, but for an extremely painful reason.

"That sounds like love indeed", Anastasia says. "Did he ever tell you he felt the same way?"

"Not really, but he showed me in other ways, by how looked at me…" I blush. I can´t believe I am talking about this, right now specifically. "I don't think I am supposed to tell you this. Not even my mother knew. She definitely would have stopped liking him as much if she had. Once, Mitya offered to kill Rasputin for me if he ever offended me. I learned this from a friend, Vera, who is also a Sister of Mercy".

"Definitely nothing like my Lyalya then", Anastasia chuckles.

"No, I don't think so", I smile. "He was wounded more than once during the war. He once said when he left that he would return either with a St. George cross or on a stretcher. He returned with both eventually, even more seriously wounded. But he was delightfully nice and cheerful most of the time, like your Valeriy. He also got along with my family. He was often invited to the Alexander Palace for tea. I remember he gave Masha a birthday card once and talked with my brother on the telephone. Alexei liked to hear Mitya´s war stories."

As I mention my brother, my voice breaks and the tears come back to my eyes. I choke down a sob and Anastasia gives me a sad smile.

"Poor thing", she sympathizes. "I don't have any younger siblings, but I understand it must be painful, he was such a sweetheart."

I don't like the way she referred to him in past tense.

Suddenly one of the nurses exits the room where she was operating on Valeriy.

"He will recover", she announces. Anastasia cries from relief.

Thank you, God, please do not forsake my brother now.

"He is resting now", the nurse says. She then turns to Anastasia. "You can see him, but try not to disturb him."

We decide to spend the rest of the night in the infirmary. Valeriy rests on one of the many beds while Anastasia sleeps on the sofa.

The woman who found Valeriy invited us to her house, but Anastasia did not want to be too far away from her husband, and I would not have been able to sleep either way.

I stay up the rest of the night praying in silence for Alexei with tears in my eyes. Please God, be with him.

The next morning after having breakfast in the infirmary´s cafeteria, Anastasia sits on Valeriy´s bed while I sit on a chair next to it. One of the nurses brings him breakfast when he wakes up, but Kirilova is the one who helps him eat.

I feel like I am interrupting an intimate moment watching them. They stop once in a while to say things in each other´s ears and even kiss once. I turn my head around in that moment.

My own emotions surprise me. I still want that.

I wish I could experience what they have but without everything it entails. I told my brother no one would ever want to marry me, but the truth is I know there are some genuinely good men willing to overlook what happened to me. Uncle Michael married a twice-divorced woman after all, much to papa´s displeasure.

The full reason I probably won´t marry is not something I wanted to share with my brother. The thought of doing what wives are supposed to do makes me feel sick now. I didn´t give it a second thought before. It was just another fact of life I had no reason to worry about.

Now I have trouble believing many women subject themselves to that on their own free will. I have trouble believing mama obviously did at least five times.

"I am so sorry Olga", Valeriy says as soon as he is done eating. His gaze is lowered as if he were afraid of talking to me. "I tried, but I should have tried harder".

"Don´t say that", I tell him. "You did everything you could, I am grateful."

"You should be proud of your brother, he fought like a wolf", Valeriy gives me a sad smile.

"I can imagine", tears go back to my eyes. "Pity he forgot to use the revolver though, that would have made a difference, but I guess he was too scared to think straight. We all were".

"Oh, but he tried", Valeriy recalls, and I open my eyes widely. "He did pull out the revolver from his pocket, but the man realized this quickly and took it from him." This revelation makes me emotional. We never had a chance. Never. I start weeping.

I am not even angry anymore. I am just completely heartbroken.

"He also bit the man in the arm", Valeriy adds. "He saved my life doing so."

And he will never know how proud of him I am for that. I make a weird sound, half sob, half chuckle.

"I don't want, to go, to the Crimea, anymore", I cry between troubled breaths. Valeriy stares at me with concern. "I want to stay, here, and look for him, and if I don't find him, I would rather go, back to Perm, to help the British, with the rescue, of my sisters, I can´t lose them as well."

I am panting by the time I finish talking.

"Darling, that is not necessary", Anastasia objects. "Once we are sure you are with your relatives we will go back to Perm, meet Charles, and give him all the information we have on where we lost your brother. He can use his contacts to find him and rescue him."

That sounds so stupid and complicated. Moscow is one of the biggest cities in the country, and they could be keeping him anywhere. It will probably take weeks. My brother may be dead by the time they find him, or have been mistreated.

Anastasia knows they won´t rescue him. She even referred to him in past tense. She simply does not want to admit this to me directly.

I think I have accepted his death. I have accepted that my agonizing suffering was for nothing, that I have failed to protect him. I have accepted God´s will.

There is a point where one´s suffering can´t become worse than it already is. There has to be a limit. I think I have reached it.

All I can do now is pray for God to comfort my brother on whatever path He has planned for him. All I can do is refuse to give up on him by running away to Crimea. All I can do is pray for God to comfort me, for I do not think I will ever recover from this. At least that is what it feels like. I am still a mess.

"We should try to do that, but I don´t think it will work", Valeriy foretells in a low tone of voice, as if reading my thoughts. "I don't think it is the Bolsheviks who have Alexei, which makes it extremely unlikely he will be found".

"What do you mean?" Anastasia asks. "The men who took him were red guards, and you killed one of them, right?"

"I didn´t", he discloses. "The dead man you found did shoot me, but he was murdered by the man who grabbed Alexei. He then drove away on a truck with him."

I almost faint. I do not know what this means for my brother.

"So, what did that guy want?" I ask. "Why did he do that?!"

"I am not sure", Valeriy answers. "He probably belongs to a different group, unloyal to the new government. I am sorry I can´t tell you more, I don´t know who they are."

"But couldn't they be monarchists?"

Valeriy sighs, as if not wanting to destroy whatever is left of my hope.

"The man who took your brother tried to shoot me", he explains, "and I doubt he thought he was saving him from me. I can assure you Alexei made it clear enough that he considered me a friend, wouldn't he have negotiated with us if he were indeed a monarchist?"

I nod. That makes sense, but it makes my uncertainty even worse.

"I stand by what I said earlier, I want to stay and look for my brother", I wipe my tears.

The Kirilovs give me a sad look. Valeriy looks at Anastasia and then back at me.

"It will be hard to do without help", Valeriy admits. "And we are not involved with the higher ranks of the British intelligence, so we can´t find their help here. Our only contact was Charles."

"Can´t we send a telegram to their headquarters in Perm?" I ask. "Or a letter?"

"With all the information about the location where we lost him, and the name of the man tasked with finding Alexei? I fear it could be intercepted, which would mean serious trouble", Valeriy answers. "I am afraid you two will have to go back to Perm to contact Charles and explain the situation. That way he will get help from other agents here in Moscow. He has more knowledge about secret codes and experience with searches like this", he explains, and then he notices his wife is shaking her head, so he talks directly to her. "Don´t worry about me, you can give Charles the address of the hotel I am staying at, and we will continue communicating through letters, there is nothing suspicious about a married couple writing to each other."

He smiles at her after saying those words and tries to hold his wife´s hand.

"I can´t leave you here alone!" Anastasia stands up and raises her hands, refusing to accept Valeriy´s touch. "You just got shot! And we can still find some information on our own. I was thinking about asking the woman who found you to help me ask all her neighbors about where the truck went. You already know what direction it took initially. We can investigate from there".

"That is a good idea my love, but there is no guarantee you will find enough witnesses to tell you the direction the truck went, let alone where it went from there", Valeriy asserts, "and what are we going to do when we find him? Look what happened to me. We need experts, we are a doctor and a nurse, we weren´t trained for these kinds of investigati…"

"I won´t leave you here!" Anastasia cries. "Are you crazy? What if the Bolsheviks investigate and blame you for the murder of one of theirs?"

I pity both of them, and it hits me now how helpless we are in this situation. I have looked up to them for protection all these days, but there is literally nothing they can do for my brother without help.

"Dear", Valeriy insists, "if we want to have even an insignificant chance of saving that boy, we are going to need help from speciali…"

"You should do it, you should both stay here and investigate", I argue, and then I look at Valeriy. "I really don't want to separate you from your wife in this state." I pause for a few seconds, sigh, and then, looking at both of them, continue. "You are going to need each other to get as much information as possible. Once I get in touch with Charles, we will find a way to transfer all the information you might be able to gather without raising eyebrows. I will ask him how, and we will be in touch through letters to the hotel. We can think of a temporary code right here. My sisters and I have already used one to refer to the jewels we sewed under our clothes so that the reds didn't steal them in case of exile. I admit it was not a remarkably clever code and that the guards in Ekaterinburg somehow figured it out, but I have learned from the experience. We can make this one harder".

I finish talking really quickly. I was afraid they would make me change my mind before I could finish, and that we would stay stuck here without a plausible plan.

"Olga, it is really dangerous to go alone", Anastasia objects. "You would be carrying with you Sergei´s suitcase. It contains all sorts of damning information. They could execute you even if you are not recognized as a Grand Duchess."

"It would be dangerous even if we went together", I digress. "I just need the address and some money. I will be alright."