Here's the next chapter :) Just to clarify, Natalia is now called "Talia" following the movie where she doesn't know her whole name. Nat seemed to American to me, so I went with Talia. Hope that clears things up!
Chapter 2 - To St. Petersburg or not?
Ten Years Later
Her eighteenth birthday, Talia had been waiting for the day she would turn eighteen and finally be free of the orphanage.
For ten years, she stayed up late nights trying to remember who she was before she lost her memory. Comrade Yulastya taunted her always asking her ifs she remembered anything before the day that se as found wandering around the streets of St. Petersburg, her clothes battered, clothing the one thing she had of her past. A necklace that she had spent better days defending when the kids in the orphanage got too grabby.
"Are you listening, Talia?"
"Yes, Comrade Yulastya," Talia replied obediently as she had a million times before.
"You are to work for the fish market," Comrade Yulastya stated as she opened the gates to the orphanage for Talia one last time. "Remember, you are to go left when you reach the fork in the road."
Talia walked away nodding her head, her red curls bouncing. "Left when I reach the fork on the road."
She walked about ten kilometers before the said fork in the road appeared. Left: Docks Right: St. Petersburg.
Talia clutched at her necklace, Together in Paris.
She could live her whole life wondering who she was, in a smelly fish market. Or she could go right, and find her way to Paris where someone has to know who she was. She wasn't naive, she knew how big of a city Paris was. Talia often went to the library to learn the streets, the population, the bad neighborhoods and the good. But she knew that in Paris there were private investigators who she could hire with enough money, people who would work to find her family.
But first she needed to get to Paris.
And the only way to Paris was through St. Petersburg.
Talia shrugged and took the road leading to the big city. She walked for hours, not being able to afford any of the public transportations offered. Talia didn't mind, she was not weak, she was healthy person and walking never hurt anyone.
"Hey pretty girl, what are you doing in a city like this?" a bum asked her, coming close to her, his stench filling her nose.
"Get away from me," Talia hissed pulling out the knife she stole from the kitchen two nights ago in hopes that it would be enough for her to protect herself with. The bum backed away and went onto his next victim.
Talia breathed a sigh of relief.
She reached the ticketing market of St. Petersburg and looked at the prices for Paris. She reached into her octets for the few coins she was able to take from the orphanage without getting caught. Not nearly enough money to get to Paris. Not even enough money to get her fake papers to pass through the guards she knew would be in the train ensuring that there were no defectors from the motherland.
Talia walked around the streets for the day, getting stopped occasionally by the creepy men who she fought off with her knife. It had been an exhausting day and all she wanted was to sleep. For some reason, she felt herself drawn to the giant castle that stood in the heart of St. Petersburg, its streets littered with homeless people looking for a place to stay. Talia shrugged, it couldn't have been worse than the orphanage.
Talia walked into the deserted building, passing a few homeless people in her wake. She maneuvered through staircases until she opened the doors of the ball room, dust making its way outs of the door when she opened it.
"It's almost like I've been here before," Talia muttered to herself. She looked around her, the room certainly seemed familiar, and she knew it was because she oftener dreamed of this exact room. Sometimes the dreams were happy dreams where she woke up with a smile on her face. And sometimes the dream was filled with sorrow, details she has forgotten but she always remembered the ballroom.
Talia started humming to herself as she walked across the ballroom, swaying to the music in her head. Every girl dreams to be a princess, especially those who grew up in orphanages Talia was no different. She hummed a tuneless, yet familiar song, as she closed her eyes and imagined this was part of her dreams. Dancing in a large ballroom filled with happy people and colors that made her eyes shine.
Talia's dream was interrupted by a shout.
"Who's there?!"
She stopped, finding herself at the bottom of the staircase, face to face with a man. Talia gripped her knife and took it out, intending to protect herself.
"Woah there, you should probably put that away, princess," he said raising his arms up in surrender.
"You step away from me," Talia hissed at him.
"Alright," the man said stepping up the staircase. Talia followed him, her knife still trained on him.
"Clint, what the hell is going on here?" another man's voice echoed through the room, startling Talia and causing her to focus her attention and knife to the direction of the other voice. It was the distraction that the man in front of her needed to disarm her, the knife falling on the floor.
"Sorry about that," he said picking up the knife as she regained her balance standing up. "Can't trust you with a knife."
Talia got up and glared at him. "Give it back to me."
"No, not until you promise that you won't point it at me again, princess."
"Stop calling me princess," Talia stated. "Give. It. Back."
"No," he laughed reaching up, the knife in his hand as she jumped to try and get it back from him.
"Now, now, children," the other man stated approaching them. "Clinton, give the lady back her knife."
Clint sighed shaking his head before handing Talia back her knife.
"Who names their child Clinton?"
"Americans," Clint stated with a huff. "And your name, miss?"
"Uh," Talia hesitated. "Everyone calls me Talia."
"Talia… is there a last name with that?"
"No," Talia responded. "Well yes, but I don't know."
"You don't know?" Clint asked her suspiciously, leaning towards her.
"Phil, come down here and check her out."
"What?" Talia exclaimed. "Nobody is going to be checking anyone out."
"No i mean," Clint backpedaled. "How old are you, Talia? If you don't mind me asking."
"I think … I think I'm twenty?"
"Twenty," Clint nodded his head. "Why don't you know?"
"I…I was found wandering around when I was a child," Talia muttered, clutching her necklace. "The only thing I have from my past is this."
Phil walked down to where the two were eying the woman who Clint was circling.
"What, would you stop that?" Talia exclaimed as Clint circled her. He ignored her and continued on.
"What was this man a hawk in another life?" Talia asked the man who she assumed was named Phil.
Clint ran up to Phil. "Do you see what I'm talking about?"
Phil shook his head, "No. What are you looking at, Hawk."
Clint positioned Phil a little to his right then up to the portrait that hung on the wall. The portrait of the royal family with the Grand Duchess Natalia Aliovna Romanova clear as day.
"Do you see now?"
"Yes," Phil whispered bewildered. The similarities were so profound in the woman in front of them and the panting.
"Say, lady, what did you say you were here for again?"
"I didn't," Talia replied.
"Well, damn lady, you don't know who you are?"
"No," Talia whispered admittedly. "I don't remember anything."
"So you're in St. Petersburg for what?"
"Looking for a job, I want to go to Paris."
Phil and Clint looked at each other.
This time, Phil spoke up. "Why Paris?"
"Because, that's where this necklace is telling me to go."
"Well, we do have tickets to Paris," Clint stated nonchalantly. "But unfortunately, the third ticket is for the Grand Duchess Natalia Alianovna."
"The Grand Duchess? Isn't she dead?"
"No, my dear Talia," Phil said shaking his head in excitement. "She is not. She is somewhere out here, looking for her family. Like you are."
"You do kind of look like her," Clint stated setting her up.
"The same green eyes," Phil nodded at the portrait.
"Romanov eyes," Clint agreed with him. Talia's head titled at the portrait just a little to analyze the picture and her similarities more.
"Alexandra's cheeks."
"Alan's frown," Clint jbbed caused Phil to elbow him. "Ow!"
"Look, she even has Marie's hands!" Phil stated changing the subject.
"You are the same age, the same physical type, the same firey red hair…"
"Are you telling me you think that I'm the Grand Duchess?" Talia asked them surprised. Every girl wishes at one point or another to be a princess. She never thought anyone would think she was one, let alone two people.
"You're looking for you past in Paris."
"Her only family is in Paris…"
Talia shook her head. "It's not possible."
"You don't remember what happened to you," Phil stated. "Who's to say that you are not the Grand Duchess Natalia?"
Clint walked away grabbing Phil's sleeve. "Would love to help out with the job and all, but we're busy looking to reunite the Grand Duchess and her grandmother."
Talia nodded her head as she stared further onto the portrait.
"Aren't we walking away too fast?" Phil asked Clint as they descended the stairs. Clint shook his head.
"Trust me, Phil."
"You haven't let me down yet, kid."
Clint smirked. "Three, two…"
"Clint, wait!" Talia shouted after him, running over to them.
"Yes?"
"Who's to say I'm not Natalia?"
"Who's to say?" Clint repeated. "You in, Talia?"
Free trip to Paris.
"Yes," Talia stated taking out her hand for Clint and Phil to shake. They both looked at each other then over to her hand questioningly. She scoffed. "You shake hands when you make a deal."
"Oh right," Clint stated taking her hand and shaking it. Phil did the same.
Review please :)