The American Embassy was all-aglow. Red, white, and blue was everywhere. Portraits of Washington, Lafayette, Jefferson, Napoleon, Sacagawea, Lewis, and Clark were hung with honors. Tuxedos, dress uniforms, and gowns and dresses filled the room. Anyone who was anyone was at this ball. Among them was a young man, whose boyish appearance made him look younger. The tuxedo he was wearing didn't seem appropriate, but given his stature, he could afford it. Oliver Cross, along with his brother Benjamin, was talking to friends and strangers, seeking partners and investors in business ventures. Oliver was chatting with a small group of older men, discussing and proposing investments.
"So you see gentlemen, by investing in Germany, their economy will recover faster. Even though it's doing so on its own, it needs some help. Investments will help the Germans. The Charles Group already has steel and mining operations, and manufacturing. We even bought a few breweries. And now we are seeking partners in our zeppelin venture. Think of it gentlemen, an Atlantic crossing reduced from a week to 2-3 days. It's the way of the future."
"You seem a bit overzealous in investing in Germany, Oliver. It's foolhardy. It's not a trustworthy nation, there's too many communists there, and they still have to deal with the war debt," said a portly man.
"Oui, and ze borsch don't deserve any of out money after what they have done to France. They've done too many injustices to France," said a disgusted French guest.
"That I can understand, but you can't let your personal feelings stop a monetary gain. And with the investments, the debt will be paid off faster. The money comes right back to us. And, the communists will be beaten back. They won't have support if Germany has a strong economy. A strong Germany makes for a strong Europe, and will protect us from the Soviet Union," Cross argues. The French guest leaves in huff, but others understand Oliver's point.
"I'm surprise Mr. Cross that you know so much, considering you're not the first in line to inherit your family's fortune, let alone the Charles Group," a man with glasses comments.
"A person's duty comes before a person's wants. I want to further my father's company and his shareholders. The Charles Financial Group does not invest merely for profit, also for benefit. Where Charles goes, prosperity follows. We're also doing endowments and funds for impoverished. We're the company you want to be a part of."
"You take that message to heart too much. Your friendliness to the unions is causing trouble at our industries."
"That's your problem, not mine. And if you go out of business, it is all the better for me." At this point Oliver then left the group to find his brother. As he leaves he hears behind him,
"That boy has no right to be here. He's trouble for us." Oliver just huffed silently. He was use to shade being thrown at him. Granted the whole Cross family is not liked in the business world, for they're too friendly and don't act wealthy. The Crosses, and the Charles Group, are one of the wealthiest industrialist, humanitarian and philanthropist families in the world. This creates jealousy and hatred among the elite because it makes them look bad. It's this attitude that Oliver has to deal with that makes him loath these events. 'I hate all these rich people.' He thinks to himself, 'Nothing but overstuffed pigs that think that their money makes them better than everyone else. Despite the fact I'm old money; they don't respect me because I'm the runt of my family. Even the girls that show up here aren't attractive, they're only gold diggers. I don't want an heiress, I just want a regular girl.' Oliver's demeanor brightens though as he finds his brother Benjamin, who also shares the same sentiments about their rich peers. Benjamin was having more success getting partners and investors. Benjamin just finished shaking hands when he sees Oliver come up.
"Oliver! Enjoying the evening? Any luck?"
"Party's fine, interesting conversations with the veterans and Pétain. They've been asking about Dad and Jonathan. Not enjoying the other guests. The men hate my money and the ladies love my money. It's damn annoying. But I picked up three investors, two tentative. A lot of anti-German sentiment from those I talked to, which is understandable. How are you doing?"
"Swell, got seven investors, five start up prospects, and three funds. CFG will be expanding in Europe. Father and Mr. Charles will be pleased. I share your feelings about the guests, greedy the whole lot. Don't worry, the food will be out soon, then it'll all be worth while." Benjamin jokingly nudges his brother.
"Then I can rate the embassy food. Oh swell," Oliver rolls his eyes. This was not the reason he was here. Just that moment, Benjamin and Oliver notice a few couples going pass, and small gathering at a corner of the ballroom. "Someone rich?"
"Don't know. I've talked to everyone listed on the guest list. Maybe a late impromptu arrival?" Benjamin guesses. He motions Oliver to investigate. Oliver walks over to the edge of the crowd. They were so many people, he couldn't get through to whoever was the focus. Looking over heads didn't help either. He thought he saw a gleam of silver, but he wasn't sure. He heard excited voices of guests, saying "What an honor!" and "Welcome your highness." 'Your highness, could it be…' Oliver's thought trailed off. Then he saw the face of the Grand Duchess of Russia, Anastasia. "It's her!" he says in an excited whisper.
Anastasia, and Dimitri who is her escort for the ball, are completely out of their element. She was in a confined spaced surrounded by people who are complete strangers. Guests came to shake hands, exchange courtesies, to make introductions, and further their social standings. Anya and Dimitri were trapped. They were holding onto each other for dear life. They had no choice but to smile and nod, and try to understand what was being said to them. Eventually everything became a blur, Anya just stopped remembering names after the first ten people. The classes and advice they were given on societal behavior the few days before weren't helping them at the moment. After what seemed like an eternity, Anya snapped out of her state halfway through a conversation with a guest.
"So you see your majesty, if the government would come down hard on the Bolsheviks and arrest them simply for being communists, the threat will be eliminated. Industries are best handled when individuals control them, not the workers. Power in the hands of the few is better than the masses." Anya had no idea how to respond to this until…
"Funny Redmond, I didn't know you're anti-democratic. An American like you, tsk tsk, Jefferson would be ashamed. Though I do think you capable of it, you don't have a soul after all. That strike break you did last month really drove the merciless image home. My newspapers had a field day," a sensible yet cocky sounding voice retorted. A slim, tall young man, with brown hair and eyes with boyish look and pale complexion came walking up. He seemed to be enjoying the look the man he called Redmond made after he was put into his place in front of a royal. Flustered, the portly gentleman left, muttering,
"It's not your company you damn smartass runt." Oliver was hurt, but he made no sign. Anya too heard the insult, but since the young man before her did not react to the insult, she did nothing.
"Stupid man really, willing to do anything make money, even destroy lives and ruin reputations. "Bloody" Redmond we call him. He's a very strong anti-union robber baron, hard to like. You deal with his kind a lot unfortunately." The young man switches from a critical tone to respectful conversational one, leading their small group off to the side. "So after being swarmed by the masses, do you have a high opinion of this ball, ma'am?"
"Oh, um… we just arrived. We haven't had any time really to enjoy ourselves," Anya turns to Dimitri for confirmation. Dimitri just nods. "Are you enjoying yourself, sir?"
"I am to a degree, I've been encountering type of people you just witnessed, ma'am. A lot of the people in here are out for themselves."
"Including you?" Dimitri asks. Anya shoots him a 'how dare you!' glare, but Dimitri did not want someone to use his wife for their own purposes. He was on edge after being swarmed by strangers for the past twenty minuets.
"No my good sir, I'm here to benefit others. I'm benefiting you right now by respecting you as the human beings you are and not a fancy lapel pin the others were swarming you for. Why were they crowding you, if I may ask? I take it you're a noble, ma'am?"
"Well, I am in a way, I'm Anastasia, Anastasia Romanov," Anya answers. The young man goes wide-eyed in awe.
"Oh, my apologies your majesty, forgive me," Oliver bowed, "I had no idea. I can't believe it's you. What an honor! I had no idea you would be here, you weren't on the guest list nor announced. Trying to lie low, eh?" Anya and Dimitri nod.
"Though you can see, that really worked out," Dimitri sarcastically remarks.
"True, your schemes concerning us never work out," Anya slyly counters. She always did enjoy poking fun at the man she loves.
"What about the one of me getting you out of Russia?" More slyness.
"One of your few successes, I'm sure." The young man couldn't help but chuckle at this.
"Nice to see you two get along. Apparently, someone noticed or learned that you're here and word spread. So the stories they say about you are true? Living for ten years in an orphanage in St. Petersburg, rescued by this man I'm assuming, and walking all the way to Paris. Oh, I don't believe I know your name sir."
"Dimitri," Dimitri extended his hand. The young man shook it. "What's yours?"
"Oh, forgive me for not introducing myself. Name's Oliver, Oliver Cross. It is quite an honor to meet both of you." A pause. "Are you two married?" Anya and Dimitri's faces go red.
"Um –cough- that's quite a popular question tonight," Dimitri sputters out, "we're engaged." Anya throws another glare. That was information not to be given out. It stayed quiet until Dimitri slipped. His face becomes a mix of sheepishness and apology. Oliver meanwhile looks pensive.
"Well, I wish you two the best. Now if you excuse me, I have to go hobnob with the goobersmoochers." Oliver walks away. Dimitri and Anya are left awkwardly standing there, wondering what just happened.
"What was that all about?" asked Dimitri.
"I don't know," said Anastasia, "but I got a weird vibe from him."
"I did too."
"Should we be worried, he knows about St. Petersburg. He may know more than he's letting on."
"Don't worry, he probably got his info from Parisian gossip, like the rest of these жопы."
"Dimitri!" Anya gave a small kick to his shin, even though she agrees with him.
"Ow! What, it's true. We'll keep an eye on him for tonight, after tonight he'll no longer be our problem."
"I hope you're right"
"When aren't I?"
"Let me count the ways…" said Anya as Dimitri rolled his eyes.
Oliver made his way back to his brother with a hint of urgency. Benjamin was in another conversation when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turns to Oliver.
"Oliver, nice to see you again. Need a loan?" He was in businessman persona, but when he saw the seriousness in Oliver's eyes, he stopped. "What's wrong?"
"She's here."
"Who is?"
"Her, the reason why we're here." Oliver pulls him to the side to avoid eavesdroppers. "Anastasia is in this ballroom." Benjamin has a double take.
"Are you sure?"
"I just got done talking to her. She seemed to confirm the St. Petersburg story, and the Europe walk. It's her." Benjamin thinks.
"Where is she now?"
"Back over there," Oliver points in the direction he just came, "Oh look they're dancing." Anya and Dimitri were doing a convincing waltz while a small crowd watched.
"Ok, Oliver, I want you to call the office, tell them the news. I'll go over and observe them, try to get a table with them."
"Understood, good luck." They part as Oliver heads towards the front of the building to find a phone. On the dance floor, the music change to a lover's slow tune, and Anya and Dimitri were having an intimate moment.
"I have to say thanks to Grandmamma, our dancing has gotten better," says Anya.
"Well, we have to thank Vlad first, he's the one who taught us how to dance in the first place," Dimitri corrects here.
"Back on the Tasha, I remember." She smiles reminiscing.
"You looked beautiful in that dress, and still look beautiful, your grace." Dimitri smiles back.
"I think that's the moment you fell in love with me Dimitri."
"I think you're right. Was it the same moment for you?"
"I think so, but after you saved my life that night, that's what did it for me. I knew you were my prince. Granted, I didn't know I was a princess back then."
"And I didn't know it either."
"When did you realize it again?"
"I already told you, when we first went to Sophie's."
"Yes, when she was interviewing me. And I remembered a boy, who worked at the palace, and opened a wall, allowing me to escape."
"Right then, I knew you were Anastasia, Anya. What got me was that even though you didn't remember much, the one bit you did was me saving your life."
"I think that's a reason to remember anyone. Yet afterwards, you didn't tell me."
"I didn't have the heart, and I didn't want to break mine. I thought the second you knew you were royalty, you would go right back into that mindset. I'm so glad you didn't, my dear."
"I'm glad too. We really are a fairytale come to life aren't we?" At this point, both of their heads were on each other's shoulders. And they were the only ones on the dance floor. Neither of them realized it.
"I guess you could say that your grace, right down to the evil sorcerer."
"And you came to my rescue my white knight."
"Oh please, I got knocked out by a stone horse, you're the one who vanquished him. I always knew you were strong."
"It's good that you know your place, my sweet prince"
"Yes, by your side, my princess. Forever."
"Indeed, forever." They kiss, right as the music stops. Applause goes up. Anya and Dimitri acknowledge and embarrassingly bow.
"We could have a career in showbiz," Domitri suggests.
"Yes, the Royal Revue we'll call it." Anya laughs. At this time, a host takes to the stage.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Dinner is served! Please return to your seats." The crowd begins to disperse, lead away by ushers. Benjamin made his way to Anya and Dmitri and introduced himself. Oliver meanwhile was in the lobby, finishing a phone call.
"But I'm telling you, it's her, she's here right now, and- … No, she didn't show signs of being a fraud." The other end of the line talks. "That's stupid thought, she's right here a-" Another interjection. "Listen, we've talked to her grandmother. I'm taking her word over yours. The woman in this ballroom right now is the Anastasia." The other end of the line pauses. "Alright, contact her grandmother again. Tell her to arrange a meeting so her highness can learn the truth. The world is about to change. Godspeed." He hangs up and mulls his thoughts over. Then straightens his bowtie and leaves the booth. He finds that everything is sitting at their tables. Cross looks for his brother and Anastasia, when an usher (in reality an undercover agent) comes up to him.
"Ben got a seat with her majesty, there's a seat available for you."
"Good. HQ will make formal contact tomorrow, you might want to report in when you have a break." The usher nods and leads Oliver to the table. Benjamin sees him coming and waves him over.
"Ah, Oliver my brother, good to see you made it. Your majesty, this is my brother Oliver, I believe you met him earlier." Oliver and Anya and Dimitri exchange glances. Oliver bows, and Anya acknowledges.
"I hope my brother wasn't bothering you, and this is my seat by the way," Oliver says as he sits down. This comment was directed at the other snobbish guests, but it didn't come across that way.
'Great,' thought Anya, 'he's sitting with us.'
"Don't worry," whispered Dmitri as he took her hand, as if he read her thoughts, "just be polite and smile."
"Did I miss anything?" Oliver asks.
"Nothing much, just the introduction by the ambassador and a few words from the president," Benjamin answers, and then whispers, "how was the call?"
"So the important stuff, great," then Oliver whispers, "call was ok. The formal briefing will be tomorrow night." At that moment the last speech ended with a 'Bon Appetit!' and the guests were free to eat. The meal was large and delicious. It is France after all. The Hors D'oeuvres were extensive, and the salads were generous. But during pheasant under glass, things heated up. The topic of the European economy came up, and naturally Germany came up too.
"But it's a fool errand to invest in Germany. There's no valuable money there," chimed a man with slicked back hair.
"But it makes sense to, at least we should fund the minds of Germany, there are many intelligent people there," Oliver retorted.
"Karl Marx was a genius some say, would you want to fund his ideas? Honestly, the way you keep talking about Germany, it seems you're trying fund the communists there," a bearded gentleman boomed.
Benjamin, with his ever cool head, calmly stated, "My brother is not a Bolshevik. I can personally assure you that. He is quite possibly the richest bachelor in the world, and spends accordingly."
"Besides," Oliver explains, "I have read the manifesto, being the intellectual I am, and I discovered it is a flawed system. There's no advancement in Communism. I'll admit, some aspects are enticing though, just like the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden, correct?" This was met with resounding laughter. Anya and Dimitri just gave nervous chuckles.
"But in all seriousness gentlemen, one should always invest in people, for they come up with innovations that make the world go round. The Charles Financial Group is expanding in Europe, and prosperity will follow it wherever it goes," Benjamin wisely comments.
"And our new Zeppelin plant we are seeking funding for will produce the transport of the future. Think about it, an Atlantic crossing reduced from a week to mere days! We can beat the record of Phileas Fogg! It will have the same affect as the railroad did on America. Yes gentlemen, great things are happening in America. Its ingenuity is changing the world. We are surrounded by Edison's light bulbs and listen to his phonographs, we work and live in buildings built with Carnegie steel, and we drive cars built on assembly lines. I am telling you, the road to the future is paved with American brilliance. And not just in the realm of innovation, but of theoretical explanations as well," Oliver enthusiastically states. He takes a sip of his imported sparkling cider. He does not drink alcohol because one, prohibition is on in America, and two he was personally against drinking. 'It will weaken my skills' he would say.
"Oh, here we go," said one guess at the table sarcastically, "more of you harebrained lunacy."
"Hey, it's amazing what is being thought up these days. In fact, just the other day I learned an amazing theory from a Doctor; the theory of the multiverse. It states that there are infinite amount of realms out there in the cosmos constantly being created and destroyed. These realms range from having only minute difference from our own, for example that champagne glass may be on your right instead of left, to the extreme changes. Think of us currently being in the Franco state of the German Empire, due to the fact the Kaiser won the war." This was met with grave looks on the guest's faces. "Frightening I know, but this is fact in another parallel universe. But that's not all ladies and gentlemen, there also realms upon these realms with differences, AND that there are copies of all these realms that are based on time differences, either being ahead or behind. Fascinating, eh? Makes you think doesn't it?" Oliver finishes.
"It is quite fascinating, and with your overactive mind my good brother, I can see why you enjoy these kinds of conversations," Benjamin remarks.
"How you can enjoy his company is beyond me," says one guest, "I get a headache just listening to anything that comes out of his mouth. And I know how to fix that." He takes a swig of bourbon. This comment is met with chuckles from the guests, except the brothers Cross and Anya and Dimitri. "Why were you so eager to sit with us anyway, Cross? Just because she's here?" The guest motions towards Anya. "Are planning to coerce her into some scheme and shortchange her?" Anastasia at this point stood up with fists on the table.
"Sir, your attitude tonight has been most disrespectful. This man has done nothing to deserve your malice. I for one found his lecture enlightening. I think it's fascinating to think there are alternate worlds. There could be one where Bolsheviks do not exist. There could be one where…" Anya pauses, "where my family is still alive." Anya sits down, tears welling up. Dimitri places his hand on hers for support. Oliver feels bad.
"I'm sorry your majesty, I didn't realize."
"No, no, it's not your fault." Benjamin takes his glass and calls a toast.
"Long live the Romanovs, may they never be forgotten."
"Here, here," the guests sang. After drinks were downed, the usher came to Oliver and Benjamin and whispered in their ears. They listened and Oliver then looked at Anastasia. He whispered only to the usher, but Anya was able to hear this, "Okay, we'll plan the next phase at the office tomorrow. Tell the others, I'll tell Raingené on the way out." Oliver and Benjamin stood up.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, urgent business has come up. I'm afraid my brother and I must leave. Thank you a most joyous evening," Benjamin courtesies. Although the guests were convinced, Anya and Domitri could the minute undercurrent of sarcasm in his voice. After all, being with each other for roughly two years, they picked up tells. Benjamin turned to Anya, "Forgive us for our early departure. I look forward to meeting you again your Grace." He made his way towards the lobby after Anya returned the farewell. Oliver made his way towards Anastasia to say goodbye and bowed. "Goodnight your majesty…" as he stood up "…kitchen boy." He proceeded to leave. Anya and Dimitri were blown away.
"How did he know?" demanded Dimitri.
"I don't know!" snapped Anya. "But he definitely knows a lot more than he is letting on."
"I think we should do something."
"Like what?"
"I'll think of something, now's not the time nor place."
"Agreed, how many more hours of this torture do we have to endure?"
"Too many, but at least we get free dessert, and we can dance some more."
"Oh, Dmitri" Anya rolled her eyes.
The Cross brothers got into their limousine and motored away. "So tomorrow night, we're going ahead with the operation, eh?" surmises Oliver.
"Looks it. It has been ten years since Dad and John first formulated it, and now we're going to complete it. Dad never lost hope. For ten years, he believed that some of the family survived, and now he's right on both accounts. I wish I could share his faith and loyalty."
"You do Ben, we all do. It runs in the family. You never gave up hunting rumrunners, and now you won't give up here," encourages Oliver with a pat on the back. Oliver turns solemn, "Do you think I'm ready?"
"You have the experience, and it is time for your first field mission. It's just that this one seems a bit too… "heavy" if you will. There's a lot at risk and at stake. It's an enormous undertaking. Do you think you're ready?"
"Yes. I've done the research. I took more training courses. I am ready and willing to embark on this mission. I've been looking forward to this. Besides, there have been younger ones than me doing even more dangerous stuff."
"I know, but don't get cocky.
"Don't worry, everything will be ok." Ben smiles at his brother's confidence.
"We have a lot of pre-briefing to do though."
"As always."