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Okay, so sorry for the long wait. You might want to re-read the last few chapters to refresh your memory first...all though, if you're just now reading this a few weeks/months later I don't suppose it would make a difference.... Anyway. I worked in Alexei's hemophilia without actually mentioning it, and I also worked in the nickname thing because I wanted the option of not having to call her Anastasia all the time. This chapter takes place about one month after the last one. Read on.

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Being promoted from dishwasher to server really had its benefits. Not being stuck in a room with Kharitonov would probably be the first, all though not a day went by where Kharitonov didn't remind him that it was solely due to age, not skill, that he was promoted at all. That, and one of the old ones had retired.

Dimitri walked down one of the residential hallways of the palace, tray in hand, and knocked on the door he hoped belonged to the Tsarevich.

"Come in," came the reply.

Pushing the door open, Dimitri was relieved to see Alexei propped up in bed, waiting for his breakfast. He'd only been on the job for two weeks, so he was still a little fuzzy on which room was which.

Of course, then he realized he forgot to bow upon entering---part of the job---so he did. "Your highness."

Alexei rolled his eyes. "Dimitri..."

"I know, I know, but the door's still open," he explained in a whisper. The formality was just for show. Alexei had known him for years, thanks to his connection with his favorite sister, and hated titles just as much as Anastasia did.

Shutting the door put them both at ease, and Dimitri pulled a chair up next to the bed, handing the heir his tray.

"Thanks."

Alexei had been a pal to him, kind of like the little brother he'd never had. He knew that Alexei looked up to him, which amazed him, considering it should have gone the other way around. Then again, if he had to live with four sisters, he'd probably crack too.

"So, kid, how you feeling?"

The boy's condition was known throughout the palace, but he downplayed it well. "I don't really have to stay in bed---it's just a precaution. Mama's idea," he explained, offering Dimitri an orange. He only took half.

"How long this time?"

"Just for today, I think."

"Good."

"So," Alexei started, a mischevious look in his eye, "are you dating my sister yet?"

Dimitri choked on his orange.

"It's okay. I won't tell anybody," the twelve-year-old laughed. "I think it's great."

Once he could breathe again, Dimitri looked the boy over. He couln't keep the 'caught me' grin off his face. "Are all of you this bold?"

"Not in front of mama," Alexei joked back. "Anyway, I just call 'em like I see 'em."

"You, uh..." Dimitri was stuttering now. He hated when that happened. "You've...seen...uh, what, what have you seen exactly?"

"Relax. Just the way she acts. And you're not the best hider on the planet. I'm twelve, not blind. Like I said, I'm not telling anybody."

"Well. Thanks." It meant a lot to him, and he couldn't have been more relieved.

"So you're not denying it then?"

"If you know, what's the point?"

"None, I guess." Alexei pushed the tray aside---he was done with the food, not with the conversation. "I'm happy for you guys. Really. Mama may not think much of you, but I like you. I can tell you'll take care of her. Anya really likes you, you know."

Dimitri was amazed at how wise-beyond-his-years this kid sounded. It was as if he was the older brother instead of the baby of the family. Then again, it was easy for him to have this kind of conversation with Dimitri---partially because, at seventeen, he was just enough older than Alexei to be categorized as 'cool,' and partially because he wasn't a girl.

He could have dealt with any number of the compliments first, or any of the other things he'd just heard, but instead he found himself saying, "Anya? Do you call her that?" He was truly curious.

Alexei didn't seem to realize what he'd said. "Oh. That. No, I've never called her that---not to her face, anyway. Mama doesn't approve of nicknames, and if I got used to it she might catch me, and that'd be another lecture..." He trailed off.

Dimitri kind of liked the idea. "Would you mind if I used it?"

"Sure!" Alexei was actually thrilled that his 'cool big brother' wanted to use his idea. "Go ahead---I don't mind. Besides," he added with a snicker. "Mama already hates you anyway."

"Nowhere to go but up, then." Standing up, Dimitri realized the time, knowing his track record as a server was probably getting him nowhere in the eyes of the staff. He picked up the empty tray. "I should get back. Thanks."

"No problem." He watchd him go, but just as he was stepping out the door, Alexei thought of something he just couldn't resist adding. "Hey Dimitri?"

He stopped, and turned. "Yeah?"

The Tsarevich winked. "You better be good to my sister."

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"I can't believe you've never done this before. Why have we never done this?"

Anastasia squinted up at the sky from where she lay in the grass, hoping to glimpse something recognizable in one of the cottony white clouds. She turned her head just slightly, apparently expecting an answer.

Dimitri still couldn't see anything. "I have no idea. You're the mastermind."

"I can't beleive you let me go eight years without teaching you to cloud-spot. I feel useless as a teacher."

"How coud that possibly be my fault?" he laughed.

"You had influence."

"So I was supposed to influence you to teach me to do something that I didn't even know existed?"

"Uh, yeah."

"That's not even possible."

"Oh, sure, anything sounds impossible when you say it like that," she laughed back. "Now come on. Focus. What do you see?"

"All right, all right." Dimitri turned his attention back to the sky and made an honest attempt to play along, but he couldn't help it. All he could see were clouds. "I see...uh...cotton?"

She smacked his arm. "Doesn't count. Come on. Try."

"Fine." He gave it one last shot, finally spotting a good one. "Oh! That one." He pointed to it.

"Where?"

"Right there."

"What do you think it is?"

"It's a horse," he said, a little defensive just in case.

Anastasia squinted, turning her head to the side. "A horse?"

"Yeah---see, there's the four feet, there's the tail, and that poufy part is the head."

It took her a second, but as it turned out it wasn't hard to see what he saw. He was a fast learner, she noted---at least in most ways. "I see it! That does look like a horse." Turning to face him, she gave him an appreciative smile. "Thank you."

"Any time."

Suddenly her thoughts turned back to her life within the palace walls, and she panicked. "What time is it?" she asked, sitting up.

Dimitri took a look at his watch. "It's one twenty-five."

"Oh. Good." Anastasia breathed a sigh of relief and sank back down onto the grass. "Mama wants us all at tea at exactly three o' clock, and I can't be late or she'll know where I was, and she'll start to get suspicious, and then..."

"Relax, Anya, she's not going to find out. Nobody has any idea."

It almost went unnoticed, but the girl caught the difference after a moment, and turned to him with a curious look. "I don't think I've ever heard you call me that before."

Dimitri just sort of shrugged. "You haven't. I was just thinking...I don't know. It could be our thing, you and me."

With a big, sleepy grin, she scooched up close to him and used the arm he put around her as a pillow. "I like it," she replied, thinking that if she stayed in this moment for the rest of her life, she wouldn't be missing anything at all.

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It was strange, feeling the warmth of the sun on your face instead of steam from an industrial oven. Or the ground at your back instead of at your feet. Dimitri registered these things one by one as he awoke, but it was hard to comprehend---especially once he heard the soft breathing of the person next to him.

Slipping his arm from under her head and hers from across his chest, he sat up with a jolt and looked at his watch.

3:17.

"Anya! Wake up!"

She barely moved, and her response was groggy. "Huh, what's going on?"

"You're late---we fell asleep!"

"We fell asleep?" She sat up in a fraction of a second. "How could we fall asleep? What time is it?" Not bothering to wait for a response, she grabbed his wrist and read the stupid watch herself. "Oh no."

"Exactly."

"Oh no, no, no, no, no!" Anya was already on her feet, and after quickly swatting the grass from her skirt, she took off across the lawn. Dimitri was right behind her.

"Isn't there anything you can say that might get you off the hook?"

"No! She wouldn't believe it," she insisted over her shoulder.

"Anya---"

"It's okay! I'll figure something out." She was coming up fast on the window she'd slipped out of, but before ducking inside she stopped and ran back to Dimitri, leaving him with a kiss before darting back into the palace.

He stared after her for a moment, shaking his head, then he reluctantly truged back to his own open window in the service wing. So much for being on time....

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Clink.

Maria's spoon hit the side of her cup for the hundredth time, adding at least some sound to the otherwise silent room.

Clink.

She couldn't help it. Fidgeting when nervous was a Romanov gene.

Clink.

"Maria!" Tatiana hissed. "Stop that! You're making it worse!"

"Take it easy, governess. I just can't stand the waiting." Setting her spoon back on her impeccably folded napkin, she shot a nervous look around the near-empty table. "Why would she be this late? She knows how mama gets."

"And you know how Anastasia gets," Olga reminded. "She'll---"

Midsentence, Anastasia flew into the room and slid into her seat, looking exhausted.

"---be here soon," Olga finished.

"Where were you?"

"I'll explain later," the youngest duchess whispered. And then she noticed that the Empress' chair was still empty. "Where's mama?"

Tatiana took it upon herself to explain. "She's in the next room with Alexei. He had an episode just before three."

Anastasia's eyes went wide. "What? How bad is it? Is he okay?"

Olga rolled her eyes. "Oh, believe me, he's just fine."

"Huh? But you just said---"

"He started moaning and complaining at two fifty-nine sharp, when he noticed you weren't back yet."

"But---why?"

Maska sighed. This could go on all day. "He's covering for you, stupid."

"We're pretty sure he knows about you and Dimitri."

"And we didn't say a word, either."

Anastasia was touched. She made a mental note to do something extra nice for her little brother at the first possible opportunity. Come to think of it, she could hear a lot of convincing wailing coming from the next room.

As if rehearsed, all four girls tilted their chairs and peered through the arched doorway for a glimpse. Alexandra's back was to them, and she was fussing over the Tsarevitch with no end of concern. Alexei, in turn, was putting on one heck of a show.

Very, very discreetly, he made eye contact with Tatiana, who pointed to their now-present sister and mouthed the words "wrap it up." Alexei gave a tiny nod, and gradually let his cries of pain trail off. The girls put their best eavesdropping skills to work.

"What is it?" Alexandra was saying. "Oh, my poor baby, tell me, is the pain easing?"

"It's the strangest thing, mama---it just...it just vanished. I feel good as new. It must be a miracle. Honest."

This was a woman who took miracles seriously. Very seriously. "Are you...are you positive?"

"Yes. I'm completely fine now."

"Well," Alexandra declared, straightening up, "praise be to God. Will you be fine to join your sisters and I for tea?"

"I'd like that, thank you."

Quickly the girls snapped their chairs back into place and tried to assume nonchalant, not-at-all-trying-not-to-laugh expressions, as the Empress and then Alexei walked into the room. Anastasia gave her brother a grateful smile as he took a seat, which he returned with a 'no problem' one. That's what brothers are for.

"Well, girls," the Tsarina started, assuming her spot at one end of the table. "I apologize. I trust that you were all present on time?"

All four girls replied with a chorus of "Yes, mama" as the maid arrived and began to serve the tea. All five children traded a glance of pure relief.

"So what have you all been doing since this morning? Besides your studies of course."

"I was with you, mama," Alexei reminded, helping himself to a scone.

"Yes, dear, I know."

"I was picking flowers from the garden," Anastasia swiftly lied.

"I practiced the piano a bit," Maria chimed in.

"I finished the scarf I was knitting for papa," Tatiana added, proud of herself.

When Olga didn't answer in her usual turn, focusing instead on her tea, Alexandra addressed her personally. "What about you, Olga? Have you written a reply to Duke Harsdt's letter yet?"

Olga turned a few different shades of red. Her brother and sisters, though, were just trying not to laugh. Again. "I haven't had the time just yet," she informed the tablecloth.

Her mother frowned. "You realize you're at the age to pay attention to these things, Olga. Most girls your age are engaged already."

Olga had had it. She put down her teacup and sighed, "Oh, mama, why do you have to be in such a rush to marry me off? You know that's not my priority."

"Whether you have interest at the moment or not, Olga Nicholaivna, it isn't the point. It's simply what's done."

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, she mouthed the words "help me" to the rest of the table.

Alexei was the first to pipe up in her defense, knowing the word of Baby would count for double that of anyone else. "I like that Olga lives with us, mama. I don't want her to get married either."

The eldest smiled affectionately at her baby brother as Anastasia and Mashka nodded their agreement.

"Exactly, mama," Tatiana added. "We can't all fall in love as easily as Anastasia. We'd have to get a much bigger staff for tha---"

Suddenly, Tatiana realized what she'd done, and threw a hand over her mouth. The room was dead silent, and everyone was staring at her in shock. Especially Anastasia.

"Tatiana!"

"I'm so sorry, Anasiasia, it was an accident, I swear---"

Maska and Olga managed to kick her under the table.

"You...have...what?" the Empress seethed, trying to remain calm, her gaze boring into the youngest daughter.

Anastasia kept her eyes down. "I'm sorry," she barely whispered.

"It's him, isn't it?" she demanded. "That servant?"

The girl nodded.

"How long have you been seeing that boy?"

"About a month."

Alexandra was really fuming now. Years of suspicion built up, and suddenly she couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't stop herself. "And you've been hiding this from us the whole time?"

She gave another weak nod in response, her face half-hidden by her matching hair. "I'm sorry," she repeated.

"Sorry? You're sorry? Then you shouldn't have lied to us."

"I know, and I---"

"You know the rules, Anastasia. There are ways these things are done. You have a life with many responsibilities and what you have done goes against every one of them."

"But mama, please, I---"

"Not a word, young lady. Now you will have something to be sorry about. I hope you are proud of conducting yourself this way, because you and he can be sure that you are the reason he's lost his job. I can think of nothing else to do in this situation but resign the boy from his post."

"What?" No, please, he can't get fired because of me...I'll never see him again...

"I hate to do this, Anastasia, but you've left me no choice. I'm putting my foot down---this ends now. Excuse me." Leaving no room for argument, Alexandra stood up from her chair and stalked from the room.

Anastasia flew after her and followed her down the hall, but her pleas fell on deaf ears, and within minutes, the order had been delivered. A sympathetic awkward silence filled the dining room.

"Well," Maria said at last, drawing her remaining siblings' attention. "I'm glad I'm not Tatiana right now."

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Uh-oh! :D Please please please review!

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