"Then the young boy says, 'But father I told the truth about pushing the outhouse over, like George Washington and the cherry tree with his father. Why are you yelling at me?' 'Because George Washington's father wasn't in the cherry tree when he felled it!'" Oliver concludes. The trio bursts out laughing at their table, drawing stares from the rest of the diners. Anya and Dimitri took awhile to compose themselves, much to Oliver's amusement. "That's a classic one right there, always gets 'em rolling in the aisles."

"I have to agree with you!" Anya struggles to say between laughs and gasps. Dimitri is nearly falling out of his seat. Anya grabs him when he does almost start falling over. "I haven't laughed like that in long time."

"You're telling me!" Dimitri says, as he starts calming down. Tears were both in their eyes.

"I got plenty more where that came from!" Oliver says mischievously.

"Please, no more for now, I think we've bothered the other passengers enough," Anya says, "besides the waiter bringing our soups." Right on cue comes said waiter bringing steaming bowls of soup. Anya, Dimitri, and Oliver put their napkins in their laps.

"Ah yes, potato leek soup, one of my favorites," Oliver excitedly rubs his hands together. "And being on the Orient Express makes it better."

"Certainly looks better that what Comrade Phlegmenkoff use to serve us," Anya says recalling her life back in the orphanage. "It would be nothing more than a bowl of water with a few potato chunks in it. And if we were lucky, we'd get a ration of meat."

"At least you had a guaranteed meal, for me I had take any food I can get on the street," Dimitri snarks as he takes a spoonful.

"You really want to have another 'who had it worse' argument?"

"Oh no your grace, I'd rather not, we've settled it already anyway."

"Good," relies Anya with a knowing nod as if she won the non-existing argument. It was a common thing between the two of them, who had it worse growing up during the revolution, Anya as a ward of the state or Dimitri as a brat on the street. It did have a tendency to get heated sometimes. But both never held any grudges towards each other over it.

"You know, if you don't mind me asking," Oliver says after a taking a piece of bread with cheese, "since you two grew up with Soviet Union so to speak, how did you two not 'fall in line' so to speak? I mean, if you don't mind Anya, since you in particular didn't remember who you were, why didn't you become a Komsomol?" Anya pauses for a moment, and a warm, content smile forms on her face. She reaches to her neck pulls up a gold chain.

"This is what kept me together." She takes it off and hands it to Oliver, who reads the inscription.

"Together in Paris. So this is the famous necklace, huh?"

"Yes, through those years at the orphanage, despite when Phlegmenkoff yelled at me or forced me into line, I would look at that necklace and know that I had life outside of Russia. That my family was in Paris. That I was somebody, somewhere. It kept me going, and to some extent, kept me sane. I could still recite the texts of Lenin and Marx if I wanted to, but that necklace prevented me from falling in completely." Oliver hands it back with a new appreciation.

"And it's nice to see we're all better for it," he nods. "What about you Dimitri?"

"Me?" he chuckles, "I fell in with different gangs every time they would try to round up the street urchins and educate them. Eventually I hooked with up Vlad, and the two of us would weave our way through the cracks in Petersburg. They never got us. I got the all the Soviet education I ever needed at the butt of rifle. That's when this all got bent out of shape," he points to his nose, "Granted I still lucked out, I got my good looks despite it."

"To an extent," Anya slyly quips as she sips her wine.

"Hey, still better than the alternative. But when I came too, I did have a bit of amnesia. Then I saw the music box and realized I was in the palace and remembered I was a kitchen boy. Without the music box, I'd probably joined the revolution too. Heck, looks like you've been saving me ever since we informally met."

"I think it's more a long the lines we've been saving each other ever since then."

"That's right," Oliver interjects, "your grandmother told me, you were the boy that got them out through the secret passage. You guys really are like a fairy tale, destined to be together."

"I agree, especially when I discovered he had a crush on me since our young palace days," Anya smirks. Now it was Dimitri's turn to blush, which he does as he turns his head to save face.

"Well," he shrugs, "everything turned out in the long run. And I did end up winning the princess." He takes her hand.

"I bet you would've regardless." Oliver proposes. Anya and Dimitri turn.

"What do you mean?" she asks.

"Well, after listening to you two and reading about you two, even if you both lost your memories and ended up 'loyal citizens', I bet you would've still ended up together. Fate is a persistent mistress after all." Anya and Dimitri furlough their brows in thought and look at each other. Anya tries picturing herself at the fish factory with Dimitri; while Dimitri does the same while thinking he'd probably be an office worker for the state.

"Let's not dwell on that," Dimitri quickly sputters out.

"Agree," Anya rapidly replies.

"Sorry, didn't mean to make you two uncomfortable," Oliver apologizes.

"It appears to be a trend Oliver," Anya comments, which led to a round of awkward chuckles.

"Anyway," Oliver takes his glass of spring water, "a toast to how far we've come." Anya and Dimitri take their wine glasses and raise theirs to Oliver's

"Agree," they both say. The glasses clink.

"Nostrovia!" the trio says. As they sip, Oliver notices out the window.

"It appears we're pulling into Milan." He stands up and takes out his camera from earlier, and tries to take a shot of the station through the window. "I still can't get over how big European train stations are. I'm curious what the new station will look like when it's done." He lines up his camera and lines up a few shots. Anya gets up to follow suit. Dimitri just sits; chin in hand as the two take photos.

"Beautiful city by the look of it, we gotta make a return trip, right Dimitri?" Anya asks. Dimitri just nods. The two camera bugs sit down and continue eating, occasionally looking out the window at the passengers running to and fro among the platforms. As their soups are taken away, one of the agents of the escort party comes up to the table.

"Mr. Cross, this telegram was waiting for you in the train station," he hands him the telegram.

"Thank you Anton. Oh, your highness, this is Anton Santorino. He's our communications officer for the trip, handling logistics and such. He planned out your whole itinerary for you in Turkey. You'll probably be speaking with him a lot when we get closer to Turkey."

"It is be a pleasure to be serving you, your highness," Anton bows and takes Anya's hand and kisses it. Anya is caught off guard; she's still not fully use to the royal treatment. "I have everything arranged, it will run like clockwork. Unfortunately, I will not be escorting you personally, as I will be going on the expedition, but I will make sure those in my charge will take good care of you."

"Oh, well, thank you Anton. I'm sure I'm safe in your capable hands," Anya replies.

"Much so. Though I do wish sometime before Istanbul that you'd come to my cabin. I would like to brief you on the itinerary, and introduce to your body doubles." Anya's eyebrows rise at that. She forgot that was part of the arrangement.

"Well," she says not really knowing what to say, "I hope they're up to the task."

"Oh they are, trust me," Oliver says, "my family handed picked them from our studio. One is Anna Altomare, fresh from Broadway, and the other is Elizabeth Ryan, who is a dead ringer for you, especially in voice. They both understand the gravity of the situation and have been sworn to secrecy." Anya sits back listening intently. Two years ago she had no idea who she was, now she has two people impersonating her to protect her.

"Thank you gentlemen, for all you've done." Anton and Oliver nod.

"That'll be all Anton," Oliver says. Anton leaves the dining car. "You can trust Anton, he's been with the service for 5 years now. Knows the Parisian literary scene like the back of his hand."

"I'm sure we can, what's the telegram by the way?" asks Dimitri.

"Oh! I completely forgot about it." Olive looks at the paper to read. "It's from Benjamin. Says the plane trip to Rome went well, and that they're on their way to Istanbul and Ankara. Expect telegram in Belgrade of arrival in Ankara. Everything seems to be going smoothly so far. And here comes the main course!" Waiters come from the kitchen bearing trays for all the tables in the dining car.

Diner and dessert were finished and now the trio retired to their cabins.

"Oh, before I forget," Oliver goes into his room and comes back with a folder, "here's the dossier on what you're be doing in Turkey. It has the files on everyone on the mission. So when you talk to Anton tomorrow, you won't get blindsided. If you need anything else, I'll be right next-door. Goodnight."

"Goodnight Oliver," says Anya as she and Dimitri enter her cabin.

"Well, today went well. We ate good food and made a new friend it seemed. At least you found another person to ramble on about film with," said Dimitri as he took off his suit jacket and began to undress.

"Oh shush you, it's a hobby, everyone has one. Like you and conning remember?" Anya teases as she puts away her necklace.

"Excuse you, that was a profession, not a hobby," Dimitri replies indignantly.

"Well I guess you have to find a hobby then," Anya retorts as she gets her pajamas out of her suitcase.

"I have two at least, saving a princess and…" he sneaks up behind her and puts his arms around her, "loving one as well." Anya shrieks with delight with Dimitri's surprise hug and kisses on her neck.

"And I guess loving a former conman is a hobby of mine as well," Anya says as she turns around and kisses Dimitri. He returns the kiss in earnest. This goes on for about a minute when they break apart, catching their breaths. "As much as I would love to, Dima, I don't think we can go farther than that. I mean, the walls are thin and beds are narrow. I don't want Oliver, along with the entire train, to hear us." Dimitri turns to the partition wall's door.

"Good point," he nods in agreement.

"But don't worry," Anya traces his jaw with her fingers, finishing with another kiss, "we'll get a chance soon. Now get ready for bed," she finishes with a peck on the cheek.

"As you command your grace," Dimitri replies.

Later that night, Anya and Dimitri are asleep. Dimitri is in the top bunk and Anya in the bottom. The train was rolling through the Italian night, on its way to Yugoslavia. The clickity-clack of the wheels hums a lullaby for the passengers. But not for Anya, she tosses and turns in her berth.

"Urg… uh…nrgh…ahhh…" she groans, and then wakes up. "Dimitri?" she asks. No response. She looks around the cabin and sees nothing but the blue glow of the nightlight. Yet, something sees off. "Dimitri?" She climbs up to the upper berth, and see it empty. "Now where'd he go?" She leaves her cabin and goes into the hallway, also bathed in a blue glow. And the sleeping car attendant wasn't there at his desk. Anya notices how quiet everything is. "This doesn't seem right."

"Are you sure, your grace?" In a flash, the car is bathed in a green glow all too familiar.

"NO! Not you! Not again! Anya screams as the temperature drops and ice starts to form on the windows. She starts shivering and regrets not wearing slippers. She turns to go back to her cabin when she comes face to an oily cloud of smoke filling the hall, with eerily familiar eyes.

"We meet again your grace." Anya stumbles back and falls onto the icy floor. She tries backing away.

"No! I destroyed you in Paris! You're dead." The black cloud advances to her, taking the form of the destroyed sorcerer, Rasputin.

"And yet here we are. Besides, I've been dead before. Time is on my side. I'm not finished with you, Anastasia." With a raised hand, the icy ground freezes Anya's hands and feet in place, trapping her. Anya's eyes go wide with terror.

"DIMITRI!" she screams "Oliver! Anyone!"

"No oNe CaN sAVe YOu, yOUr GRacE!" Water leaks from the pipes, flooding the floor of the car, submerging Anya just enough to cover her.

"Noooo!" she screams as the water covers her, her yells turning to gargles.

"DEATH TO THE ROMANOVS!" Rasputin screams as he leaps onto Anya, his boney hands around her throat. Anya losses consciousness. And wakes up screaming.

"Anya! Anya! What's wrong?" Dimitri yells as he leaps from his bunk to the ground to comfort Anya. "Anya, Anya! You're here with me. You're safe! Wake up!" Anya wakes up and sees Dimitri. "It was just a nightmare. You're with me, you're fine." He hugs her hard. Anya just weeps into his shoulder.

"Oh Dima, Dima, it's not over, he's back, he's back," she hoarsely whispers through her tears. "Rasputin's going to kill me, kill us."

"No he won't! He's dead, and I won't let anyone hurt you." At that point there's an urgent knocking at the door.

"Anya! Dimitri! Is everything alright in there?" Oliver yells through the door. Dimitri gets up and unlocks the door. Oliver comes in brandishing a gun. Behind him are another agent and the conductor. "What happened?"

"Anya had a nightmare. She's had them before, but they've been happening more frequently than usual, and more intense it seems." Oliver puts his gun away and kneels in front of Anya as Dimitri sits beside her.

"Do you need anything? Philip, go get some water." The agent outside the door nods and goes gets it.

"Anything else, mademoiselle?" the conductor asks. Anya just shakes her head no.

"I think we just need the water and some time alone," Dimitri says. The conductor nods and then leaves. Anya just remains in Dimitri's arms. Philip comes back with some water and hands it to Oliver who hands it to Anya. Philip leaves.

"Are you better now?" Oliver asks.

"I think we just need some time alone," Dimitri responds. Oliver nods in understanding. He gets up to leave.

"If you do need anything, I'll be next door if you need me," he closes the door when he leaves.

"He means well, the kid, but I don't think he can help," says Dimitri.

"Why won't he go away? I destroyed Rasputin. I smashed the reliquary. Why is he haunting me?"

"I wish I could tell you why Anya, but it breaks my heart that I can't." Dimitri kisses her fingertips, bringing a small simile to her face. "I can say though, that you have defeated him before, you can do it again. You are strong, don't forget that." He squeezes her reassuringly.

"Thank you Dima. I think these nightmares have come back because of all of this Alexei business. Rasputin seems to be getting strong with each nightmare. I have to see Alexei before its too late."

"You're making it sound like he is going to kill you. Anya, he's not going to. How can something dead kill you?"

"I'm sorry, I guess I'm worked up. But I felt his hands on my neck. I tasted the water as he drowned me. Besides, he vowed to destroy my family. If I reunite with sooner than he expects, I might finally be able to break the curse. I know I said I didn't want you going, but now…" she lets her thoughts trail off.

"I can go if you-"

"No, no, I'm tired. We'll talk about it tomorrow. But thank you for everything Dima." She hugs him. "I love you Dimitri."

"I love you too, Anya." They kiss. He kisses her forehead and the top of her head. "Are you ready to go back to bed?"

"I think so."

"Remember, I'm right above you."

"Will do, my guardian angel." The two of them settle back to sleep.

"It's an honor your majesty, I promise we won't let you down," said Anna.

"Yes ma'am, you're visage is in good hands," said Elizabeth. The two body doubles were leaving Anton's cabin after formally meeting Anastasia. The three of them hit it off right away, with their headstrong attitudes surprisingly not conflicting with one another. In fact, they bonded over it. Liz and Anya especially got along, considering Liz was an actress in Hollywood by trade. Anya asked her a lot of questions about that. For now, their time came to an end.

"We'll have drinks later in the lounge," Anya calls as the two girls walk away. "I like them," she says to Dimitri. Dimitri quietly, slowly nods. One Anya was enough to deal with; three of them had him breaking out into a cold sweat.

"They're… ahem… real spitting images of you, my dear. Though nothing compares to the original."

"Thank you Dimitri. I would hope so." Anya winks.

"Yes, they are perfect doubles. Mr. Cross made the right choice. I bet Ms. Ryan could fool the whole task force." Anton comments.

"I agree, she sounds exactly like me. It's surreal," says Anya. She then yawns. "Sorry, I had a hard time sleeping last night."

"It's fine ma'am, that's why God gave us coffee," Anton chuckles, "I'm glad I could pick some up when we stopped in Milan the other day. So your majesty, any questions about your itinerary? Again, I won't be with you as I'm going on the mission. But Benjamin Cross will be escorting you while you're in Ankara. You'll see the capital, sit on parliament, and visit some museums and the countryside."

"It's all very good, thank you Anton," says Anya, but she looks uncomfortable.

"Is something wrong your majesty?"

"Anton, do you have any siblings?"

"Uh, no, your grace. I am an only child."

"I read your file, you're from Russia originally?"

"Yes," Anton sits up straight, "I don't remember much of it. We fled when I was very young. My father perished in Russia due to his ideas. My mother came to Italy and remarried. I took on my stepfather's last name. Worked with the Italian gov't cracking down on the mafia, and through there met the Crosses and the Secret Service in America."

"You do sound like a man we can trust, Anton."

"I do hope so ma'am, I try."

"Well, we need your help. And we need you to trust us as much as we'll trust you. You understand the gravity of the whole situation we're in, yes?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Can you understand how I feel about having my brother back? My only immediate family left?"

"I can imagine to an extent."

"Well, then you can imagine how desperate I am to get him back?"

"Yes."

"And you saw how I was with those women, how stubborn and headstrong I can be."

"…Yes," Anton didn't know where this was going.

"Well Anton, I need your help to get me and Dimitri on the mission. I want rescue my brother myself." Anton nearly chokes on his coffee.

"What?!" he shouts and then lowers his voice. "What? Do you realize how dangerous that is? It's dangerous enough already, with our men and your brother already at high risk. To go in person would be an international incident!"

"And? It's my brother. He's last remaining part of my family. It's worth it. I want him back. No matter what." Anya puts on her best 'Empress' face and levels her glare at Anton. He sighs heavily.

"Did she talk to you about this?" Anton asks Dimitri. He nods.

"Yep, we talked about this morning. I tried talking her out of it, but she won me over. Besides, she can confirm Alexei right then and there. You're the planner; you can make it work. You can get us uniforms. I can even help you forge the papers. Plant some fake threat that makes the use of doubles required."

"What about the Crosses? Did they approve of this?"

"They don't know, and they're not going to know." Anya commands. "We tag along in disguise, save my brother, come back, and we all go home to Paris. And we'll do it real quiet like. And if you get in trouble, just blame on me and my 'royal privilege'." Anton sighs deeply again and looks down at his lap, his mind deep in thought. Anya and Dimitri wait, the ticking of his watch becomes audible in the room along with the rumble of the train wheels.

"Ok, I'll do it, but you'll have to listen to me and what I say about what's going on in the expeditionary force. You're going to need disguises, uniforms, and rations just to name a few things." Anya and Dimitri lean forward and listen as Anton pulls out new files. Things are about to get interesting.