If I owned Anastasia I would be rich, which I am not. So obviously I do not own it, which is a pity.

"So, you're saying you did me a… a favour?" Anya practically exclaimed in a bewildered , shocked manner that gave away her insulted vanity.

Dimitri shook his head in denial, rolling his eyes at her conduct towards him. And then she called him a baby! It really was the other way around, at least this time. Naturally, she would jump on conclusions of her own, that were usually false and then she would not let him speak up his mind and give an explanation. He sighed. "All I'm saying is being a princess is not entailed to being a damsel in distress."

"Ha!" she snorted ironically. "I should think that you were the distressed damsel since I defeated Rasputin while you were playing Sleeping Beauty!" she suddenly shut her lips and for a moment her eyes sparked in ingenious surprise. "It even rhythms!"

"The horse knocked me out!" he protested fervently, ignoring her childish comment with a roll of his dark eyes, and he was about to continue when he suddenly realized something. "Rasputin? Monk Grigori Rasputin? Was that him?"

Anya gave him a quizzical look, arching a puzzled brow as she replied positively. The fact that he actually knew the corpse of a man's full name intrigued her indescribably greatly. Even she didn't know his full name. "How did you-? Why do you ask?"

"Wha-? You- you don't- remember?" his surprise made him stutter a bit especially when she shook negatively her head. "Oh, well, he was one of the few people your family trusted the most. The Empress Alexandra was extremely fond of him after he healed Alexei from a deadly disease and I do recall hearing rumours of the Grand Duchesses addressing to him as 'our friend'. It's odd you do not remember that."

The young Princess listened carefully to Dimitri's words while her penetrating gaze was glued on the paved street under her feet. She had very few memories of her early childhood and she also had to thank that amnesia of hers. However, trying too hard, she could see a foggy picture and a blurred vision of a little boy not older than six years old. He was bedridden and was looking in admired awe at a cloaked man before him.

She shut her eyes tightly and tried to focus more intensely on that image. But it almost instantly faded away, giving its place to another different one. She realized it was a moment of when she and Maria, her sister, were eavesdropping on a conversation. Her father, the Tsar was asking him to leave St. Petersburg for a while but she could not know the reason. Her mother was also present and she seemed dreadfully sorry. The monk accepted with difficulty and in a scornful manner the order.

"If we were so close to him, why did he come to hate my family so? Why did he curse us?" the words were barely heard as the intensity of her vivid memoirs was still vexing her while confusion was blurring her mind.

Dimitri shrugged and ran a hand through his unruly hair before throwing his jacket over his shoulder. "I don't remember the exact reason. Something about 'disgracing the Royal Family and betraying your father'. And the Tsar banishing him from the Imperial Russia." He replied with knitted brows as he tried to recall the exact events.

Being the kitchen boy, he had not been able to learn much since he was locked up in a kitchen. Whatever information he knew, it came by the numerous times he tried to eavesdrop. And at the time, he had not paid real attention, he didn't really care. "I do remember him coming uninvited at the celebration of the Romanov line's 300th anniversary. He was holding that… thing you broke and he…well, that was the night he put the curse on your family. Three days after that night, the Russian Revolution broke out and… well… you know the rest…" he decided it was best if he did not fully reminded her of the way her beloved ones were cruelly murdered.

"Wow…" she whispered looking somewhat absentminded and Dimitri could swear he caught glimpse of the ghosts of the past swimming in those deep, cerulean pools of hers. "I do recall… broken memories and… shattered dreams –more like nightmares, actually- with him included…but nothing much. I can see through them, however, that you are right."

"I…am." Was his reply, feeling dumb to not have found a better one. "Anyone, it matters not. At least you're…safe..now."

"Yes." Her soft voice quivered with uncertainty and awkwardness. "Thanks to you…"

"What?" he stopped dead in his tracks as they were walking by the river and turned to face her. "Was…was that… you actually…thanking…me?"

She pursed her lips, trying her hardest to hide her chuckle but failing miserably. "Probably the first and last time!" she said in a steady voice, the unmistakable playful tone of hers easily identified. "Oh, and zombie?"

"Do not deny it, he looked a hell lot like one!"

"Oh, and you have probably met a bunch of them, haven't you?"

"I do know what a corpse looks like, Highness!" was the comeback that made her shut her rosy lips as he gave her an intent stare. "Just admit that you thought it was funny! Actually, admit that you think that I am funny!"

Anya snorted in laughter. "All right, I admit it." He raised his brows thinking she had given up too quickly. "You do look funny!"

He rolled his eyes, enjoying the merry tone of her girlish chuckle. He was perplexed at her sudden silent attitude as she stared at a passing boat floating gracefully on the calm, dark waters of Seine, a longing spark in her ocean blue eyes. He was about to question her as her gaze dropped on the toes of her heels when she spoke first. It was a single, quiet word but it was enough to make him understand what she meant. "Why?"

He ran a nervous hand through his unruly, chestnut hair, a bubble of regret threatening to burst in his chest. "I was out of place…" he started saying when she cut him off, suddenly twirling around to meet his face with fury written all over hers.

"No! You were a coward!" she yelled at the top of hers lungs and several of the people passing by them gave her funny looks. "You were a coward from the very beginning! You didn't tell me about your, oh, so brilliant con, even when you found out I was really the Grand Duchess! And then you lied about taking the money!"

He lowered his head in shame, avoiding meeting her eyes. "All right, perhaps you're right. But I was afraid."

"Of what!"

"Of you!" he blurted out in frustration, waving vividly his arms in the air. "Of how you would react! And what I was afraid of actually came true! That's why I left like-"

"So you admit it then." Her voice was much calmer now and he was surprised she did not finish his phrase with some insulting remark of hers and to also find comprehension reflected on her face. "You left without accepting the reward! But why didn't you change your mind when I tried to talk to you about it?"

"Because even if you had forgiven me, I would have indeed felt out of place, like I told you. I am a kitchen boy! You…you are a Princess! And I do not deserve you."

"So you admit it?"

"What? What do I have to admit again?" he cried in frustration and saw the Princess's sapphire eyes grinning idiotically even though her lips had remained a firm line. She could master her facial expression too well, she was born to be a royal, that much he could see.

"That you want to be with me." she replied calmly. She walked up to him, too close to him for both their good, and gazed in his eyes, though to him it felt as if she were gazing right into his soul. A conman's soul. A conman and yet he could not master a lie to send her away and have her live her life without being troubled by him, neither could he disguise his affectionate feelings for her that he was certain were showing on his face. "Dimitri, how can you say you do not deserve me when you literally crossed lands to rescue me?"

"Well, I guess-" he started saying nervously, practically disarmed by her words and the tenderness of her face.

"Please," she raised a hand. "Don't talk anymore, it's only gonna upset me!"

He gave her a funny and faked scolding look as he recalled her vividly speaking the exact same words in a train wagon. She flushed him a clever grin and turned her back on him, continuing her walk as a leader to the train station. She did know the parisian streets better than he and much to his disdain, he was forced to follow her like a lost puppy. That blasted woman, always knew how to humiliate him. "Fine, I'll be quiet if you are!"

"Fine!" she exclaimed in a low voice, twirling around herself as she did so, to look at him as she spoke. "I am not going to speak another word. I'll just wait for you to say it."

"Say what?"

"I don't know." She shrugged her shoulders and offered him an innocent smile, twirling yet again and he huffed in nuisance. She knew perfectly well what she wanted him to say. The problem was that he didn't. "In case you are in need of some help, they are three words. You get to choose which three!"

He rolled his eyes. What kind of new game was that? Well, he had to admit he liked it. There was nothing he enjoyed as much as a playful Anya. So he decided to play along. "I am sorry?"

He saw her nodding from behind. "A good start." She only said. So she wanted to hear more. Another three words perhaps? "Please forgive me?"

"Repeating yourself, plus, I already have." She retorted immediately which was why the shock overtook him a minute after she had spoken them. She had forgiven him.

"Come with me?" he attempted again, though this time they both could make out the cheeky seriousness and longing in his deep, hoarse voice.

Anya smirked with content to herself and she could feel already a rush of blood making its way on her already pinky, by the freezing Parisian air, cheeks. She wanted to scream out a 'yes' but she decided to continue her little game a bit more. "Looks like you are coming with me –more like following me- back to Russia."

"Come away, with me." he said again, replying faster than before much to her surprise and delight.

"If I am not mistaken those are four words. You are breaking the rules of the game."

"And I'm about to break them again." He sounded much to certain and confident now, he could feel even his steps more steady and certain as well as he sped up his pace so that he was walking side by side with her. He took a deep breath, he knew she would welcome his words but he still felt nervous. Such declarations of affection and heart-felt conversations were not his forte. But he somehow felt excited and relieved to be rid of those particular words. So he sucked in another breath and smiled smugly.

"I love you, come away with me."

His grin only grew wider and much more wickedly content as she froze dead in her tracks and her eyes widened greatly. He leaned closer to her so that his lips were practically brushing against her ear. "What's the matter, Highness? Cat got your tongue?"

But before he could fully taste the delicious sweetness of victory, a swish in the air and a rock smashing against his cheek made his head fly and his head spin. "You creep!" he heard her yell. Why was she acting in such manner? "Was it so hard to say these words two months ago?"

"Why, what's wrong?"

"I love you too!"

"Then why did you just slap me?"

"Because you deserve it as much as you deserve me! Because had you spoken the truth back then, things would have been different now!"

"All right all right, I made a mistake! Can we forget the past now?"

She jutted out her lower lip in a way he thought a cute, stubborn little girl would, and folded her arms across her chest. "I suppose we could." She mumbled averting her eyes on the pavement before she surprised him by placing a gentle palm over his cheek, apologizing. "Sorry about that, I don't know why I really did it. I guess I was too mad."

"No problem, like you said I deserved it." He replied in a soft, forgiving voice, cupping her palm with his own rougher one. "But you still gave me no answer to my request."

She raised one brow as she looked up at him, knowing exactly which request he was referring too. "Grandma and the others will be worried." She said reasoningly arching her other brow as well. "And… we don't really got much money… and no clothes as well." She said glancing down at her torn dress.

Dimitri looked disappointed away. She was right, they could not do it, they would not make it. It was silly of him to suggest it, though it seemed like the only thing she wanted him to say.

"However, I do have another idea…" her voice trailed off in her usual cunning tone.

Sorry for the little cliffhanger, but I think I gave you a satysfying long chappie, didn't I? Even with a little delay, which I'm sure you can forgive? :D

(next chapter will be the last one by the way! Oh, I'm so excited!)

Did you like it? There is the chat I promised, but did it live up to your expectations? I certainly hope it did! Leave a review if you feel like it ;) Thanks for reading and bearing with me!