They did not talk about what happened at Christmas. In fact, for a few days, they didn't talk at all.
Anastasia knew she was being childish every time she gave Dmitry the cold shoulder. She knew she wasn't being fair. On a logical level, she thought she could understand why he hadn't wanted to kiss her. Although her family had been stripped of their titles and posts, at her core she was still a Grand Duchess of Russia. And he was a boy who had been in her family's service for almost half his life. She knew he viewed himself as lower than her, no matter how many times they had all insisted otherwise. Perhaps he thought he was doing her a favor, by not kissing her.
Of course,1 that didn't make the rejection sting any less, and so for a few days she allowed herself to be immature as her ego healed. She couldn't pretend to not see the expression on his face every time she left the room the moment he walked in, nor could she pretend it didn't give her a vicious kind of satisfaction to see him hurting as she was. She hated herself for taking pleasure in hurting him, though. And her sisters, of course, noticed everything. Maria had even cornered her one day and questioned her about it, but she only gave vague answers in response and her sister dropped the matter when she saw that she wouldn't get anything out of her.
She still wore the gold chain he had given her though, hoping it would be enough to save their friendship once she felt ready to talk to him again. If anyone noticed its sudden presence around her neck, no one said a thing.
Of course, right now it wasn't like anyone could see it. It was tucked under her scarf and coat as she stood in the cold winter air. It had finally snowed five days after Christmas, and she and her siblings were building a snow mountain. Some nuns from a convent down the street had gifted them toboggans for Christmas, and they were all determined to put them to good use. She and Olga were in charge of building the mountain, while Tatiana and Maria carried out buckets of water to make it extra slippery. If she stood in the right spot, she could pretend they were still back at the Winter Palace.
She and Olga straightened briefly as Tatiana and Maria came back with the water and carefully poured it down the side. It came up to Olga's waist, now, and Anastasia was proud of the progress they'd made so far, even if it was still rather small.
"So, what happened?" Olga muttered to her as Tatiana and Maria dashed back inside with the buckets.
"What do you mean?" Anastasia asked as she bent to pile more snow on the small mountain.
"What happened between you and Dmitry?" she clarified. Anastasia blanched and her eyes darted over to where Dmitry stood with her father, chopping wood as always.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said stiffly, stalking away to gather more snow. Olga followed her.
"Yes, you do," she said. "Now, normally you know I wouldn't get involved in whatever is going on between the two of you."
"Then why are you?" Anastasia interrupted.
"Because I can't stand watching him stare at you like a kicked puppy anymore," Olga said gently. "The two of you have been friends for almost a decade. Surely whatever happened couldn't have ended that so suddenly."
"And if it did?" Anastasia shot back.
"I don't believe that for a second," Olga said simply. "And I don't think you do either."
Anastasia watched her sister retreat back to the mountain, then kicked at the snow in frustration. Sometimes Olga made her so mad, with her annoyingly insightful comments, and she had a feeling her oldest sister knew it. Anastasia suddenly wanted to stick snow in Olga's coat even though she knew it wouldn't solve anything.
Instead, she continued to help build the snow mountain in a huffy silence. Olga at least seemed amused by her reaction, though Maria hesitated when she came back out and saw Anastasia's expression. Tatiana alone tried to act as if she hadn't noticed anything going on, and when Alexei came charging from the house the two of them chattered away.
When the snow mountain was done, all of the siblings climbed carefully to the top. There was barely enough room for them all to stand together, even huddled so close Anastasia could feel Maria's breath on her cheek. They could easily see over the fence, and Anastasia and Alexei jumped and waved to the people passing by. A few even waved back, earning giddy grins and laughs from the younger siblings. Then, Maria's foot slipped, and they all laughed as she went screaming down the side of the mountain, her arms and legs splayed as she came to a stop at the base. Olga slid down on her stomach after her, laughing, followed closely by Anastasia who rammed into her sisters with a wild shout. Tatiana looked at them disapprovingly from the top of the mountain as they lay in a giggling heap.
"Come on down!" Maria shouted to their sister and brother at the top of the mountain. "It's fun!" Anastasia shook the snow from her hair and nodded. Tatiana rolled her eyes, but sat down at the top of the hill anyway. She motioned for Alexei to sit down on her lap then latched her arms firmly around his middle, and the two of them slid down carefully that way.
Dmitry, who had looked up at the commotion when Maria fell, shook his head and turned his attention back to the woodpile. Seeing that, Anastasia gathered up as much snow as she could, packing it into a tight ball. Behind her, she could hear her sisters scrambling back up the hill, laughing and yelling as they went. She held a finger up to her lips as her father watched her approach, then lobbed the snowball at the back of Dmitry's head where it broke apart in a dramatic spray. He looked up in shock, a dark scowl crossing his face as snow dripped from his hair down his face.
"It's your turn to slide down," she said, gesturing to the hill.
"I'm busy," he said coldly, turning away. Nicholas gently pried the axe away from Dmitry's hands as Anastasia threw another snowball.
"The Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov orders you to slide down the mountain with her," she said loudly. A few nearby guards' faces soured, but she stuck her tongue out at them and turned away.
Having no excuse, Dmitry grabbed one of the toboggans from where they lay discarded in the yard and marched up the hill without even a glance at her. Anastasia scrambled to climb up after him, and by the time she got to the top he had already set the toboggan down and perched himself on top of it.
"Climb on," he said flatly, still without looking at her. Anastasia frowned at the back of his head, then launched herself at his back. Dmitry grunted as her weight hit him and her momentum threw them forward. She laughed and he yelled as they went careening down the slope, flew across the yard and crashed into the fence. The guards shouted at them from their posts, and Anastasia rolled off the toboggan, still laughing.
"Are you trying to kill us?" Dmitry shouted, rolling off as well.
"Don't pretend it wasn't fun," she said. Dmitry's cheek twitched, like he was fighting back either a smile or another scowl. He began to stomp away from her, to her dismay, but then Alexei lunged forward and grabbed his arm.
"Slide down with me, Mitya!" he begged, his cheeks flushed from the cold and exertion. Dmitry opened his mouth to protest, but Alexei was already dragging him back toward the hill. Anastasia watched as they settled themselves on the toboggan and slid down the hill, taking care not to jostle Alexei too much. She darted out of their path, her ego smarting once again and she saw Dmitry's small smile.
Anastasia allowed herself to be pulled up the mountain a few more times by Maria, but suddenly all the joy was gone for her. She had known Dmitry was upset by her continued silence, but she hadn't expected it to turn to anger so quickly. It felt as if a pit had opened up in her chest, getting wider and wider each time she saw Dmitry laughing with her siblings. Before long, she turned and slunk back into the house and pretended she couldn't feel the tears stinging her eyes.
Later that afternoon, she slipped into Alexei's room. He was pacing around the small space with a book in his hand, but he seemed far too upset to be paying any real attention to it. She wasn't entirely sure where Dmitry was at the moment, but she wasn't too worried about it, especially when Alexei tossed his book down on his bed and threw himself on the couch in the room.
"Mama won't let me slide down the mountain anymore," he huffed, staring darky out the window at their hill. "It's not fair."
Anastasia felt guilt twist in her stomach. "It's probably for the best," she offered softly. Alexei turned his head to scowl at her.
"That doesn't mean I have to like it," he muttered.
"She's only trying to look out for you," she said, grabbing her brother's hand. "It's what our Mama does best."
"But I haven't gotten hurt in months," Alexei whined. "And Dmitry was careful. He'd never let anything happen to me."
"I know. But I'd also rather you didn't get hurt," she said. "It tears my heart out to see you in pain and know I can't do anything to help you."
"It's not fair," Alexei said again, but there was more resignation in his tone.
"How about this?" she asked, sitting up a bit straighter. "I won't slide down it either, not if you're allowed to. We'll find some other way to have fun outside."
"Don't be ridiculous," he told her, rolling his eyes. "You worked so hard on it, you might as well enjoy it."
Anastasia shook her head vehemently, drawing an 'X' with her finger over her heart. "Cross my heart," she said. "I don't like rubbing things in your face. We'll find something else to do." Alexei gave her a grateful grin, leaning forward to throw his arms around her.
"Maybe Dmitry has some ideas," he offered, his smile turning sly. "You should go ask him."
"You do it," Anastasia said, her smile disappearing. "It was your idea."
"Oh, please, Nastya. You're just looking for an excuse not to talk to him anymore." Alexei fixed her with a stare as she leapt to her feet.
"Don't be ridiculous," she seethed. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I?" Alexei asked without rising. "You forget I share a room with him, now. And besides that, he is my friend. We talk."
Anastasia seriously doubted Alexei knew the whole story. She couldn't imagine Dmitry would tell anyone what she has asked of him on Christmas, least of all her little brother. And yet, looking at Alexei's expression, she found she was unwilling to call his bluff. When his grin grew bigger, she knew he knew.
"I'm pretty sure he's upstairs."
Anastasia puffed out her cheeks, so angry she could spit, then turned on her heel and marched from the room. All of her siblings needed to mind their own business and leave her alone, she thought. They were all far too nosy for their own good. Even still, she stomped her way up the stairs to the sitting room, making sure that whoever was up there could make no mistake about who was coming.
What she was not prepared for, however, was seeing Dmitry slam a book on his lap closed as she reached the top of the stairs and give her a sheepish look that quickly turned into another scowl. Tatiana sat on the other side of him, rolling her eyes.
"What are you doing?" she asked both of them. She glanced from one to the other, then down at the book Dmitry was holding.
"Nothing," he said quickly. Tatiana laughed once.
"He's learning to read," she said, standing and stretching. "He practically begged me to teach him."
"I did not!"
"But you know how to read," Anastasia said.
"He wanted to learn to read English." Tatiana yawned.
"Tatiana!"
"Anyway," she continued as if Dmitry hadn't spoken, "I think I need a break. I'm sure Mama or Alyosha needs something." Anastasia stiffened as Tatiana brushed by her and hissed, "Be nice," in her ear.
Across the room, Dmitry was making a big show of opening the book again, which Anastasia quickly recognized as the book she and her siblings themselves had all learned from, and burying his nose back in it. His eyes tracked their way across the page at a pace that told her he had no idea what he was reading and was just pretending for her sake.
"Look," she said. "I know I've been horrible to you the past few days."
Dmitry didn't react except a slight stiffening around his shoulders and another wrinkle appearing in his forehead.
"You have every right to be mad at me," she continued. "I'm sorry for how I've been acting, and I hope you're still my best friend. If you don't want to talk to me for a while, I'll understand, and when you feel ready I'll be here." She began to go back down the stairs and leave him in peace.
"You can't just keep running away from your problems." She turned her head toward him again, but he was still pretending to read the book.
"I know that," she admitted.
"In here especially, because there's only so far you can run." He lowered the book and finally looked at her. "But even when we leave this place and can return to life on the outside, you can't do that anymore. You should know by now that running doesn't fix anything."
Anastasia wanted, so badly, to snap at him. She wanted to ask when he had gotten so wise and sagely, and if she should begin calling him philosopher or a scholar. But with their relationship in such a precarious spot, she knew those comments would be the ones that would sever it. So she bit back the words that were already bubbling up her throat.
"Like I said, I know I've been acting like a child."
"You definitely have," he agreed, too eagerly. She felt her face contort into a frown. He didn't have to be so smug about it.
"Can you blame me for being a little hurt?" she said waspishly before she could think.
"Can you blame me for being cautious?" Dmitry shot back. He raised the book again, and Anastasia struggled to suppress the urge to fly across the room and knock it from his hands.
"I didn't come here to fight," she ground out around her clenched teeth.
"I know," Dmitry said. But the corner of his mouth turned up the tiniest bit. This time Anastasia did stomp across the room and snatch the book away.
"You're baiting me," she said. "You want me to get all worked up, don't you?"
"Don't be ridiculous," he told her, but he continued to smirk just the tiniest bit.
"You're infuriating," she cried, tossing the book at him. He caught it with ease, much to her annoyance.
"Not as infuriating as you," he replied calmly. "Besides, it's funny to see you start spluttering when you're mad. Call it payback, if you want to."
"Isn't hearing me say I'm sorry enough for you?" she said, planting her hands on her hips. "That in itself should be payback, considering how rare it is."
"It's an added bonus," he grinned at her. "Now, if we're done being mad at each other, would you mind helping me learn to read?"
Anastasia did sit down next to him and hold her hand out for the book, but she muttered the entire time, much to Dmitry's amusement, about where she thought he could stick it.
