This chapter is kind of a long one. Originally part of it was supposed to be part of the last chapter, but then there wasn't a good stopping point and it was too long to keep the entire thing together, so I split it up this way. Hope you enjoy!
Dmitry waited eagerly by the bridge he'd first tried to rob Anastasia on. Both of them had come to think of it as their bridge, and more often than not it was where they met. He had not seen her for a few weeks, but he felt certain she would come that afternoon.
He was right, and she didn't keep him waiting long. Less than two hours after the parade ended, he spotted her making her way through the crowd toward their bridge. He headed off to meet her, and was surprised when she threw her arms around him. He hugged her back hesitantly after a moment.
"Dmitry, you were hilarious!" she exclaimed when she released him. "You should have seen how Tatiana and Olga carried on when we got back home. They were so mad Marie and I smiled."
"They were?" Dmitry said, suddenly nervous. He sincerely hoped he hadn't made the Grand Duchesses too mad. He hadn't thought about that at all.
Anastasia, however, didn't seen too concerned. "Oh yeah," she beamed. "I've never seen Tatiana turn that shade of red before. It was great. She gets so worked up over the smallest things, even Mama told her to calm down."
"Did I get you in trouble?" he asked.
"Well," she said, drawing the word out. "Mama was disappointed I didn't just ignore you. But she also doesn't know you're not a stranger. Papa was nicer, he said he thought you were funny, too."
Worry pooled in Dmitry's stomach, making him feel nauseous. He had only been trying to catch Anastasia's attention and make her smile. He hadn't meant to anger the other princesses and earn the disapproval of her mother. It must have shown on his face, because Anastasia grabbed his hand and squeezed it reassuringly.
"Don't worry about Mama, she's actually very nice. She just cares about our appearances a lot," she reassured him. Her words did little to soothe him, but he tried not to let Anastasia see that. "Anyway, I have to get back to the palace soon. I probably shouldn't have left, but I just had to see you. Will you walk back with me?" She had missed him terribly the past few weeks, not that she would ever admit it to him.
He nodded and followed her silently. She chattered away as if neither of them had a care in the world. Dmitry, on the other hand, was still thinking about the Tsarina. She had always seemed to be an imposing woman, from what Dmitry saw of her. She almost never smiled in public, and not too many people he knew thought very highly of her. Anastasia regarded her mother with reverence and love, but she was hardly an unbiased source. He was so caught up in his thoughts that it shocked him when Anastasia suddenly pushed him into a bush.
"Hey-!"
"Shh!" She hissed at him. Dmitry huffed his annoyance but fell silent, and that's when he heard the shouting.
"We've found her! She's by the west gate!"
"Your highness, where have you been? What are you wearing? The Empress has been worried sick about you."
"I'm fine, I've just been walking around the gardens," he heard Anastasia say, far too innocently. She was definitely an actress he thought, shaking his head. Through the gaps in the leaves he saw one guard turning Anastasia this way and that, apparently looking for any injuries. He rolled his eyes and stifled a snort.
Suddenly a hand grabbed him roughly by the back of his shirt. Letting out a startled yelp, he was dragged from his hiding place out into the open. Anastasia turned to him with panic in her eyes, but said nothing.
"Who are you?" the guard demanded.
"No one!" Dmitry cried, trying to twist out of the guard's grasp without success. "Please, let me go!"
"Why are you sneaking around the palace? Were you following the princess?"
"No!"
"Who are you working for?" Dmitry was shoved roughly to his knees.
"Stop it!" Anastasia shrieked. "You're hurting him!"
"What is going on here?" a new voice demanded. Dmitry felt the hand let go of him, and looked up as Anastasia threw herself at the newcomer.
"We found an intruder with your daughter, your Majesty," one of the guards reported. "We will interrogate him, if you wish."
"No, you don't understand!" Anastasia cried, clinging to her father's arm. "It's nothing like that. He's my friend, Papa!"
The Tsar peered down at the boy with new eyes, following Anastasia's confession. Dmitry risked a glance up at the Emperor, but quickly lowered his gaze again. Trembling, he waited for the order to be given.
"Stand up, boy." The Tsar did not say it meanly, but Dmitry scrambled to obey. He stood at attention, still not meeting the tsar's eye, and wishing he could at least beat some of the dirt off his pants. "What is your name?"
"Dmitry, sir," he said quickly. The tsar made a go on motion with his hand. "Dmitry Ivanovich Turov."
"How old are you?"
"Ten, sir."
"How did you come to meet my daughter, Dmitry?"
"It was my fault, Papa." Anastasia jumped in before Dmitry even had time to think. "I snuck out of the palace on my own one day. I'm sorry, Papa, I know I shouldn't have. I got lost, and Dmitry helped me find my way back. He always makes sure I get back safe." Dmitry nodded mutely, making a mental note to thank her later for not selling him out.
"Always? How many times have you snuck out?"
"I dunno," Anastasia said, looking down and scuffing her shoe against the ground. "A couple of times."
"Where are your parents, boy?" the Tsar asked, and Dmitry's insides twisted painfully. "Surely they must be missing you about now."
Dmitry lowered his gaze. "I- I don't have parents, your majesty. They both died a while ago."
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Anastasia's head whip around to face him. "You never told me that, Dmitry," she murmured. He couldn't bring himself to look at her, and instead dared to glance up at the Tsar again. The Tsar's gaze had softened, and he looked at him with a mixture of pity and compassion.
"Come," he said, holding his arm out. "You'll have dinner with us tonight as thanks for ensuring my daughter returned safely."
For a second Dmitry couldn't move. He didn't quite trust his ears. Had he really been invited into the palace? The guards on either side of him seemed to be stunned too, and Anastasia was beaming at him, so he supposed he must have heard correctly. He took a few stiff steps forward, and the Tsar curled a protective arm around his shoulders.
"Thank you, Papa," Anastasia said, still hanging onto her father's arm. Her father peered down his nose at her, a single eyebrow raised, and she quickly let go.
"Don't think you've gotten off the hook, Nastya," the tsar said, and Anastasia had at least the good sense to look remorseful. "I don't know what you were thinking, sneaking out of the palace. You could have been hurt, or worse."
The three of them walked in silence after that. It was a strange feeling, being led up to a palace by the Tsar himself. He still had an arm around Dmitry's shoulders, which was making Dmitry feel a bit panicky. He knew the Tsar meant him no harm, but it felt almost claustrophobic and he had the strong urge to shake the Tsar's arm off and run. Ahead, the palace loomed above him, its windows glowing in the early evening.
"My darling!" the Tsarina exclaimed as they entered, rushing forward to hug Anastasia. Anastasia hugged her mother back, still looking a bit guilty. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, Mama, I promise." The Tsarina moved as if to pull away, but Anastasia clung to her as she had her father a few minutes ago. Dmitry stood as still as possible, hardly daring to breathe. He felt vastly out of place even barely through the door of the palace, and there was no doubt he was underdressed.
"And who is this?" the Tsarina asked, finally noticing Dmitry standing with the Tsar. Dmitry tried to shrink back under her gaze, but the Tsar gently nudged him forward.
"I've invited this young man to have dinner with us tonight," the Tsar said. "Apparently our little shvibzik has been sneaking out, and he has made sure she got back home safely." The Tsarina was finally able to pry Anastasia off of her, and gave her a look that Dmitry never wanted to be on the receiving side of. It appeared that Anastasia was used to getting looks as that one, though, because she hardly flinched.
"Come," the Tsarina said, holding her hand out to Dmitry. Her expression was back to normal, and was actually very kind and welcoming. She rested her hand on his upper back and began guiding him to the dining room. Dmitry couldn't help but be awed at the grandeur of the palace. Of course, he'd seen it from a distance his entire life, but nothing could have prepared him for the magnificence of it all. It seemed like every surface sparkled, and the size of it alone was intimidating. Portraits of harsh families lined the walls, staring down at them.
"You'll eat in here with the girls and Alexei," the Tsar said, and it took Dmitry a second to realize the Tsar was talking to him. He nodded quickly, and the Tsar turned to his wife. "Alix, if I may have a word? There's something I'd like to discuss with you." They turned to go, and Anastasia grabbed Dmitry's hand, leading him over to the table. Three older girls were already there, and they looked up in surprise at the new addition to their meal.
"Who is this?" the most beautiful girl asked, looking at him quizzically. Dmitry immediately wished he was better dressed. There was no doubt in his mind that they were all judging him by his tattered clothes.
"Wait, I recognize you!" said the girl who looked closest to his age. "You're the boy from the parade earlier, the one who bowed."
"Uh, yeah. That was me," he said.
"He has a name, you know," Anastasia said obnoxiously. "Come on, Dmitry, you can sit next to me." Dmitry followed her mutely, acutely aware of the other three girls staring at him as he sat down. He eyed the number of utensils skeptically; would they expect him to know which fork to use for what? He hadn't even been aware one person could use more than one fork during one meal.
"Where's Alexei?" Anastasia asked, looking around at her siblings.
"Maybe he snuck out too," one of her sisters said. Another sister giggled and Anastasia glowered at both of them.
"I think he was upstairs," said another sister. "He'll probably be on his way down now."
As if on cue, a tall man entered the room pushing a small boy in a wheelchair. The boy, Alexei, Dmitry presumed, looked tremendously excited about something, though he couldn't stop himself from staring when he saw Dmitry sitting at the table with his sisters. Anastasia rushed to explain his presence before he could make a big deal about it, and the boy seemed to be more accepting of his presence than the girls had seemed. Finally, the food was brought out and laid in front of them. Dmitry felt like his eyes were bugging out of his head. He had never seen so much food in one place before, and what food he had seen hadn't smelled nearly as good as this.
"So, Dmitry," one of the older sisters said, "Why are you here?"
"Olga!" gasped the sister who had recognized Dmitry. "That's rude."
The sister named Olga shrugged. "I was only asking a question," she said blithely. "I was curious."
"He's here because Papa invited him," Anastasia huffed, pushing her food around with her fork. "Anyway, I don't see why it matters. We have guests at dinner all the time."
"Yeah, but those guests are other nobles," said the beautiful sister. "Your friend isn't."
"Well why does he have to be?" Anastasia demanded hotly, leaping to her feet.
The sister who had recognized him turned to face him. "Don't mind Tatiana," she said with a smile. "She's always this blunt with everyone except Baby." Dmitry only nodded, trying to ignore the fact that Anastasia was about to argue with her sisters over him.
"Maybe I should just go," he said quietly, trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible.
"Don't be stupid," Olga said. "You've hardly eaten anything, and Lord knows you look like you need it."
"Besides, I think Mama and Papa were talking about you," Alexei interjected, catching everyone's attention.
"What?" Tatiana said.
"Oh, yeah," the boy continued, his face alight with excitement. "I heard them talking on the way down here. They said something about keeping a peasant boy."
"Keeping him?" Olga cried. Tatiana, too, looked scandalized. "What do you mean 'keeping' him?"
"You must have heard them wrong, Alyosha," Anastasia said.
"I did not!" Alexei sat up a little straighter in his wheelchair, his face scrunched up in anger. "I know what I heard! Papa said he wanted to keep him to keep me company!" All four grand duchesses turned to stare at Dmitry, who immediately wanted to sink into the floor. Anastasia alone was smiling at him.
"Well I think it's a great idea," she said loudly. Dmitry tried to smile back at her, but he was sure it looked more like a grimace.
"Well of course you think it's a great idea," Tatiana said, rolling her eyes.
"I think it might be nice too!" chirped the sister who had recognized him. "It could be fun having someone new around."
"Don't tell me you've already got a crush on him, Maria," Olga teased her. Maria immediately scowled at Olga and crossed her arms.
"I think I should get a say," Alexei said imperiously. "After all, whoever they choose will be my friend, not yours."
"Whoever they choose will be around all of us all the time," Tatiana explained to her brother with an air of impatience.
Dmitry, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the siblings' squabbling, was immensely relieved when the Tsar and Tsarina entered the room, though the royal children didn't notice at first. He wondered what the scene in the dining room might look like to them, with all the children yelling at each other and Anastasia looking like she was ready to jump across the table at her two oldest sisters. Their parents, however, didn't look the slightest bit surprised at their children's behavior and Dmitry had to wonder if this was a common occurrence in their household.
"Papa!" Maria said brightly, finally noticing her parents. The other four children fell silent and Anastasia hurriedly sat down again. "Is it true? Is Dmitry staying?"
"Never you mind," the Tsar said. "Dmitry, would you mind if we had a word with you?"
Dmitry stood and walked slowly over to the Tsar, though his heart pounded harder with every step. He was sure everyone in the room could hear it as he was lead from the room.
Dmitry wasn't surprised when Anastasia came to find him later that night. He was in a guest room for the time being, but was told that as soon as they could, they would move him to a chamber off of the tsarevich's room. He had been told of the Tsarevich's affliction and how easily it could be aggravated. He was to be a companion to the boy, someone who could make sure he didn't hurt himself and keep him company when he did.
He was also assured that no matter what Alexei said, he couldn't fire him. Dmitry was officially employed by the Tsar and Tsarina, though his salary was minimal. Dmitry didn't mind; what need did he have for a lot of money now that he was to going to live in the palace? He'd already been given new clothes, food, and a place to sleep. Their generosity unnerved him a bit, but he assumed that they would do the same for any companion to their son. They couldn't have a ratty street urchin be seen with the heir to the Russian throne.
Dmitry had just changed into his new pajamas and was about to go to sleep when there was a quiet knock on his door. Unsure of what to do, he hesitated before opening it the tiniest bit.
"Quick, let me in," Anastasia hissed to him through the crack. "I'm not supposed to be out of bed." He opened the door wide, and she darted in, closing the door almost silently behind her.
"If you're supposed to be in bed, then why are you here?" he asked. "Aren't you afraid you'll get caught?"
"I snuck out of the palace for a whole year and didn't get caught until today," she grinned. "I think I'll be fine."
"Yeah, but what happens if you are caught tonight, then? You've already been caught once today; can you imagine how mad your parents will be if you're caught again?"
"If I get caught, then I'll eat my own shoe," she said with a wave of her hand. "Besides, if I'm caught sneaking around, it can't be too much of a shock to Mama and Papa." Dmitry smiled in spite of himself. He still thought she shouldn't be sneaking around the palace when she shouldn't be, but he had a feeling she would be able to talk her way out of just about anything.
"Anyway, I wanted to come see how you were settling in," she said, settling herself on the foot of his temporary bed.
"I'm okay, I guess," he said, shrugging. "It's definitely different from what I'm used to."
"Yeah, I guess it is," Anastasia said with a small laugh. "You never did tell me where you lived before."
"It's not important," he said.
"But-"
"Please, just drop it," he said, turning to face her. "Let's just say it's a place I won't miss even the tiniest bit." Anastasia was silent for a moment as she nodded.
"I should probably get back to my room," she said, hopping off his bed. "But Dmitry? I hope one day you'll trust me enough to tell me. You're kind of my best friend, after all."
