Dmitry regretted his promise to Anastasia the moment the words left his mouth. It felt like such a betrayal to have even agreed, and it weighed on his conscience.
What made it even worse was that he was keeping it from her siblings. His promise to her directly conflicted with other promises he'd made, especially the one he'd silently made when he was 10 years old to Alexei, to serve him faithfully until he was no longer needed. Over the years that promise had been extended to the rest of the family as well. But he could not keep that promise and the one he made to Anastasia at the same time.
His one consolation was that he was considered far too close to the family to be simply let go by the guards. They would never allow him to just slip away, no questions asked. If he were to be let go, he would doubtlessly be interrogated, maybe even jailed, until they could be sure he wasn't keeping any information from the Bolsheviks.
Determined not to let anyone know something was up, Dmitry continued to act as normal as possible. He sat with Alexei for hours each day, reading and talking and staying out of the Big Pair's way when they were trying to help. After a few days, they were all given their ID cards, complete with their photos. Privately, Dmitry thought the sisters had taken better pictures of each other and himself with their box cameras. In their ID photos they all looked rather sick and empty.
Eventually Alexei even felt well enough to sit outside in his wheelchair a few times. Pushing him around the small yard, Dmitry felt himself let go of a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. It seemed Alexei was nearly recovered enough to be moved, and at this rate they could be reunited with the rest of the family within the month. Rodionov, however, seemed to have different plans.
"Three days?" he asked incredulously. "Alexei can barely get out of bed without help, how can he expect him to be ready to move in three days?"
Tatiana could only shrug. "Dr. Botkin tried reasoning with him again, but I don't think he took too kindly to it, especially after he spoke up to him that day we had out photos taken."
"But what happens if we hit a bump in the road?" Dmitry asked. "We have to convince him to wait a little more. Even a week would help."
"He's not going to listen to any of us," Tatiana seethed. "His justification is that Alexei has been spending more time out of bed, and therefore must be recovered enough to travel."
Dmitry shook his head. "So we'll keep him in bed more the next few days. I'll explain the situation to him, he'll understand. I'll keep him occupied."
"That's not going to change Rodionov's mind." Tatiana backed away, glancing over her shoulder. "I'm going to go tell Olga and Anastasia. You should start helping Alexei pack." She turned and fled from Nicholas and Alexandra's vacant room, where she had pulled him into to tell him the news. Dmitry swore under his breath, very much wanting to punch Rodionov and settling for toppling a pile of books to the floor.
Alexei seemed to have only a healthy disregard for himself when Dmitry broke the news to him. When he heard that they were going to be moved to Yekaterinburg, the boy brightened immediately and began chattering away about being reunited with his parents.
"Help me out of bed Mitya, I'll help you pack," he insisted, and Dmitry honestly contemplated jumping on him to keep him in bed.
"I'll handle the packing," he said. "You stay in bed and recover as much as you can before we have to leave."
"I'll be fine," Alexei said darkly, crossing his arms but making no move to get out of bed again. "We can use our coats and pillows to cushion my leg, it won't be a big deal. I want to help."
"Then tell me what to pack," Dmitry offered. "I just want to make sure there's no chance you'll get injured again."
Alexei huffed his annoyance, but listened to Dmitry, who practically flew around the room trying to pack everything into their suitcases. Looking at them, they seemed less full than they had when they first arrived, and he had to wonder just how many things the guards had stolen from them. He gritted his teeth as his blood boiled. The Bolsheviks had already stolen the Romanovs' freedom and pride; did they really need to steal trinkets too? He had no doubt the money for those items went to lining the guards' pockets.
Dmitry also had to be careful about where he stored his money. For nearly a year he had stashed his life savings in an old sock wrapped inside a shirt, kept at the very bottom of his drawer. So far the Bolsheviks hadn't found it, for which he was grateful, but now they were inspecting every inch of their bags before they could be added to the pile of luggage that would go with them. He had no doubt they would take every kopek if they found it, as they had done to Maria when they first arrived. It was only a small amount of money, and they had claimed she would get it back when they were free, but he had a sneaking suspicion that someone else had long since stolen it. So, with Tatiana's help, he managed to cut a seam in his suitcase's lining and store his money in there. Her expert hand sewed it back up, and unless the person knew what to look for, no one would ever be able to tell it was there.
The day before they were scheduled to leave, Rodionov strode into Alexei's room unannounced, leading two other men. Tatiana jumped up from her seat in shock, and Dmitry nearly knocked Alexei's suitcase off the dresser. Rodionov nodded at the men, then turned to address the three of them.
"I'm here to let you know that the boy's wheelchair is to be boxed up and transported to Yekaterinburg that way," he said.
"What? Why?" Alexei asked.
"It will take up too much room on the boat and the train," Rodionov said.
"But he needs that chair to move around," Tatiana said in a level voice. "His leg-"
"Can't take any weight and won't straighten, yes I know," Rodionov said impatiently. "The servant can carry him around." And with that, the men picked the wheelchair up and followed Rodionov out of the room.
"This is outrageous!" Tatiana exclaimed indignantly.
"We've endured worse before," Alexei said, sounding resigned. "At least we'll get to see our family soon."
"That's not the point and you know it," Tatiana said, pointing a finger at her younger brother. "Rodionov thinks he can belittle us for sport. How exactly is Dmitry supposed to carry you around everywhere? You're nearly as tall as him, now!"
It was true, Dmitry had to admit. Alexei seemed to be hitting his growth spurt a bit early, and already came up just about to his shoulder. Dmitry knew he could support the boy's weight for small periods of time, such as lifting him in and out of his wheelchair, but he wasn't sure how well he would do carrying him around everywhere.
"I've had lots of practice," Dmitry said. "I can carry him."
"And have you thought about how ridiculous you'll look?" Tatiana demanded. "You're barely more than a boy yourself. What will people think?"
"Oh, who cares what they'll think, Tatya?" Alexei yelled. "I honestly don't care about their opinions of us anymore, do you? The only thing that matters is seeing Mama, Papa, and Maria." And with that, Alexei crossed his arms and refused to speak to Tatiana until suppertime.
Dmitry didn't think he slept for a single second that night. He tossed and turned for hours, but his brain refused to be lulled to sleep. Alexei tossed and turned for a while as well, but eventually his breathing evened out and he settled. It was well into the early hours of the morning that Dmitry gave up on the idea of sleep and instead listened to Alexei's steady breathing.
He wondered what the next place would be like. Maria hadn't described the place to them in her letters other than the tall fence surrounding the house. Then again, they knew some of her letters hadn't come through. It was entirely possible she had described the house but the Bolsheviks confiscated the letter. After all, if it fell into the hands of the White Army, that description could lead to the Romanovs' rescue. They would never be so careless to let that happen.
He would probably share a room with Alexei again, which was just fine by him. The sisters would probably share a room as well. He could only hope that the new house wouldn't be any smaller than this one, or else they wouldn't have enough room to turn in a circle without knocking into someone. He wondered if the house at least had a yard, and if they would be allowed to use it.
Rodionov surprised them all by allowing them to sleep until a little past their normal time. The children and the servants all had a quick breakfast while their luggage was loaded into the trucks waiting to take them to boat. They were each allowed to carry one suitcase with them on the boat, though Dmitry could tell Rodionov didn't want to allow it. He was sure that if the Commandant had his way, they'd all be wearing the same clothes every day until they literally fell apart.
"Line up!" Rodionov barked at them as soon as the last crumb was cleaned up. They all did so, with Olga at the head all the way down to the young kitchen boy at the end. The children stood straight-backed, with Dmitry supporting Alexei, as Rodionov strode down the line holding his hand out for their ID cards.
"Are you Olga Nikolaevna?" he asked as he did every morning. "Are you Tatiana Nikolaevna?"
"Yes," they all replied as they did every morning.
One last inspection- Dmitry's suitcase was ripped from his hand and rifled through once again- and then they were told to form a single file line. Someone took Dmitry's suitcase as he picked Alexei up, much to the boy's embarrassment. They filed out of the house, Dmitry staggering under Alexei's weight, but he managed to make it to the motor car designated for them before setting Alexei down gently on the seat. His sisters immediately cushioned their brother with their coats, hoping it would offer him some protection from the bumpy roads.
One final glance at the Governor's House as they left it for the last time. Dmitry could only hope he wouldn't miss it. And then the line of motor cars made their way out of the gate.
