After eliminating the last three assassins, the guards and officers had swept the entire Livadia Palace to find signs of another break-in. Apparently, the attack at the front entrance was an effective diversion. The other assassins had covered their tracks to and from the palace quite well, taking advantage of the new moon and dense foliage. All that could be found was a destroyed window in the bedroom meant for the Tsarevich. The remaining guards and officers searched the second floor and interrogated Viktor To their dismay, they found the bodies of the royal couple in the Florentine Tower. As each of the few guards looked at the corpses of the late Tsar and Tsarina, each of them felt a sense of failure. Their assumption that the first floor would be impenetrable proved wrong, and the assassins had breezed through a nearly empty second floor to murder the royal couple.
However, hope remained. Pavel had kept the four Grand Duchesses safe in the secret panic room, and he remained at guard in the suite of Grand Duke Dmitri Pavlovich. Also, the servants and other royal staff had been spared. These thoughts somewhat lifted the spirits of the eight guards in the Florentine Tower.
"Aleksey... we failed," a black-bearded guard sighed, taking off his hat.
"No, we did not, Nikita," Aleksey, a brown-haired guard, replied.
"But the Tsar and Tsarina are dead! How can you say that?"
"There is another hope, old friend. She lives at this very moment alongside her three sisters."
Nikita, the black-bearded guard, wore an expression of confusion. "You mean... Her Imperial Highness Olga?"
"Da."
"Did the Pauline Laws change? If not, women still cannot rule over Russia."
"They were changed, but the new Nicholas Laws were kept confidential from the public for security reasons. They allowed Tsar Nicholas the Second to name his successor."
"I hope that Her Highness will bring Russia to peace and prosperity."
"Do not worry. I am sure that the eldest Romanov daughter will make a good Tsarina."
The eight guards split themselves into two groups of four. Each group of guards, without a word, carried the corpses downstairs. They huffed out breaths as they carried the weight of their late rulers. As the group of guards walked within the first floor, the other guards, officers, and a priest joined them. They all stopped carrying the bodies once they arrived outside the front entrance, where five carpets laid on the ground. Upon the first three carpets, the bloodied bodies of three suited men laid still. These were the three heavily armed Bolshevik attackers who had worn silk vests and some thin metal plating under their suits, making them harder to kill. Only headshots finished them off, but by then, a dozen guards had been killed.
Laying down the two corpses of the late Tsar and Tsarina, the guards took a moment to regain their breath. As the guards looked at each other, reality finally settled into their minds. It had all happened within an hour. Within that hour, they had lost their Tsar and Tsarina, and the future of the Russian Empire now rested in the hands of a seventeen-year-old Tsarina-to-be. They had made assumptions about the security of the palace, and they had paid the price. At the very least, some hope remained.
"Can you tell Officer Pavel that the attack is over?" Aleksey asked Nikita, who nodded.
Nikita entered the palace. After looking around the main hallway, he found the door to the suite of Dmitri Pavlovich. Trying the doorknob, the guard noticed it was locked.
"Officer Pavel, this is Guard Nikita. The attackers... they are either gone or eliminated," the guard said.
The door opened, and Pavel peered out of the gap. "Good. How has the royal couple fared?"
"They were found shot in the Florentine Tower, I am sorry."
"What? How did they get within the palace?"
"The guards, including myself, have searched the first floor. We did find a completely destroyed window in the Tsarevich's bedroom. Three sledgehammers were found outside, so they must have used those to gain entry through the window."
Pavel trailed off. "So, the attack on the front entrance..."
"...was a diversion. Those damn Bolsheviks were quite clever. They had somehow gotten some information on the palace security measures," Nikita finished.
Pavel sighed. "And I assume that the traitor has not been found yet."
"No."
"I do not know how to tell the girls that their parent are dead, Guard Nikita."
"Just offer your condolences. There is nothing we can to to change what happened before, but only go onward."
Pavel opened the trapdoor in the floor, and the four Grand Duchesses looked up at him. Pavel nodded his head to indicate that they were safe, and Olga ascended the ladder out of the basement along with her sisters. She sighed with relief. At least the attack had ended. Olga looked with confusion at the other guard standing beside Pavel. Nikita wore a frown, not making eye contact with the Romanov sisters. Had something gone wrong?
Tatiana also seemed worried. She wondered if her parents, especially her mother, had survived. Despite her hopes, she felt uncertain about whether her parents survived. If the royal couple were still alive, she would have received news that they were. The Little Pair also felt the same, and they were curious about what had become of their parents.
"Is Mama alright? What about Papa?" Anastasia asked Pavel.
Pavel remained silent, and he sighed. "Your Highness... your parents are dead."
"No... No... it cannot be!" Anastasia said, shaking her head as her sisters froze with their mouths agape in a silent gasp.
Nikita knew that it would be difficult to tell the girls the terrible news. They would never socialize with their parents again. They would never see their mother in the knitting gifts in the Mauve Room again. They would never laugh with their father again. So much had been lost within a fateful hour, never to return until the girls departed to beyond.
"Based on what the other guards have said, your parents have passed on," Nikita said.
"No, no, no..." Anastasia said, continuing to shake her head.
"Pavel, please escort the girls to the front yard," Nikita asked.
"Yes, Guard Nikita."
Pavel led the four princesses outside the palace, and they stopped in front of the fresh corpses of their parents. The shock that the four Romanov daughters had disappeared, and their eyes moistened. Tatiana knelt down, stroking the hair of the body of her mother. She was the closest to her mother out of all four sisters. Seeing the terrible sight of her mother in eternal rest, she was unable to restrain her tears any longer. Covering her face with her hands, she sobbed.
Olga sobbed next to the body of her father. She had been particularly close to him. Her father would confide in her about politics within the Russian Empire, and he spent more time with her than the rest of her sisters except for Anastasia. She remembered the time that her father persuaded her mother to withhold a paddling after an outburst. She remembered her father reading bedtime stories to her. She remembered him calling her his "little empress". No, she would never forget her father, and she would honor his legacy as the next ruler of Russia.
Anastasia and Maria cried, embracing each other. They knew their parents had simply passed onto the afterlife, but they could not bear the thought of their parents dying a painful death. Because of royal blood, the deceased royal couple had paid the penalty of death. The thought of their loving, kind mother being tortured by the attackers only made them cry harder. The Little Pair and Big Pair were now separated from their beloved parents for the remainder of their lives.
"Oh, Mama!" Maria cried.
The priest gave a sympathetic look at the four young women sobbing and crying for their parents. He spoke to them. "I am sorry to see that our Tsar and Tsarina have departed. May we give the final blessings and words for them?"
All four of the Romanov daughters nodded, still sobbing. The servants and the remainder of the palace staff came out of the front entrance. Spotting Dmitri, Anastasia gestured for him to come to her. Dmitri embraced her while she cried, saying, "He was like my second father, Anya. I can't believe he's gone."
Anastasia spoke, sniffling. "He was my Papa... my brave and kind Papa."
"He really was," Dmitri replied.
Maria and Tatiana nodded. "I do not know how we can find out way without Mama," Tatiana said.
Olga looked at the Little Pair, wiping her eyes. "Perhaps we will, they would want us to go on."
After the staff and the four Grand Duchesses ceased their flow of tears, the priest announced that the prayer would begin. They clasped their hands, lowering their heads as the priest gave his rites. The guards stood still around the front yard and perimeter of the palace. Out of respect for the departed and for the ceremony, the guards kept silent. The four Grand Duchesses each gave their final words about their parents, and Anna wiped her teary eyes. She mourned the loss of her Tsarina, her closest friend. Dmitri wore a forlorn look on his face as he watched two groups of guards exit the Livadia Palace. They carried two yellow cloths and two stretchers. Each one was emblazoned with the Romanov eagle crest: a two-headed eagle holding a scepter and crown.
The guards covered the bodies by traditional practice. All four Grand Duchesses and their loyal staff members watched them carry the two bodies back into the palace. Olga, being well informed from readings of some protocols, knew that the bodies would be temporarily placed in the Italian Courtyard before their burial. There, her Mama and Papa would rest for a short time. Olga looked back at her sisters as Pavel led her within the palace. Tearing herself from the arms of her guardian sailor, she approached her sisters. She was now the head of the Nikolaevna line, and her sisters would need her as their leader.
"We should go inside, we need to rest. If we allow the pain to overtake us, then the Bolsheviks have won," Olga spoke.
Tatiana nodded, but the Little Pair could not speak. They still struggled to regain their composure, struggling to handle their raw wounds within their hearts. Their grief was overpowering, absorbing their happiness like light fading into darkness. With reluctance, the Little Pair followed the Big Pair inside the palace.
Dmitri and the Grand Duchesses found sleep to be elusive. The kitchen boy stared at the ceiling, thinking about the last time he saw the late royal couple. He thought of how generously the couple had donated for White Flower Day. It became clear to him that they were good-hearted people more fit to rule a family rather than a country. If the Bolsheviks made a mistake, it would be killing their hated aristocrats and royals when they were in good character.
He glanced at Anna Demidova, who sat in a chair at her desk and looked out the window. Not a word escaped her mouth for the entire hour that they remained in their quarters. Dmitri had never paid attention to other servants or handmaidens, but now he had a faint impression about the lost friendship that Anna and Alexandra shared. With their similar hair colors and blue eyes, they could almost pass as sisters. A few times, Dmitri had seen the Tsarina speak with her trusted handmaiden, with laughter heard from the Mauve Room. The two women were such close friends that they were almost like sisters.
Thinking about his friend, the Grand Duchess Anastasia, Dmitri knew that she had trouble sleeping like he did. Yet going outside his quarters was forbidden, as guards were patrolling the hallways.
"Dmitri?" Anna asked.
"Yes, Miss Demidova?"
"You must be thinking about your friend, right?"
Dmitri was silent for a moment. "Yes, I just wish that I could go to Anya's bedroom, and tell her that everything will be alright."
"Anya... you refer to Her Highness Anastasia?"
"That is what I call her, and she calls me Mitya."
"At least you still have your friend. I was unfortunate enough to lose mine, Tsarina Alexandra."
Considering what Anna had said, Dmitri was thankful that his best friend Anya was still alive. Still, it would be a long night. It would be a few hours before Dmitri and the four Grand Duchesses succumbed to the lure of sleep.
