Trigger Warnings at the end.
Maria Nikolaevna Romanova.
No one talks on the way to the train station. No one talks as we wait an eternity for the train, locked up inside a warehouse without food and little water where only a wooden bucket allows us to relieve ourselves.
An entire day goes by. No one talks when we get on the train. No one talks when it starts moving.
No one sleeps either.
The tears donʼt stop flowing, for any of us. They remain as fresh as they were earlier, while it happened.
Our sobs too refuse to quiet down.
I feel as if the world had already ended, as if I were already dead. The present and the future donʼt exist, they donʼt worry me, they donʼt matter. I am stuck in that house, in that cellar, at that moment, trying to organize the images, the horror. There has to be a consistent order.
Did it really happen? Was it just a dream?
Yes, it happened, otherwise I wouldnʼt feel so sticky. My siblings wouldnʼt be sobbing around me, their faces wouldnʼt be swollen, the back of their heads wouldnʼt be stained with blood.
My heart fills with anguish and I cry for my parents over and over again, until it feels like a dream once more. It is a never-ending cycle. Will I feel this way forever?
Alexei hasnʼt stopped clinging to me. His arms are around my waist. His face is hidden under my arm. He is still wetting my shirt with his tears and mucus from his runny nose, but I wouldnʼt dare push him away.
Our sisters are sitting opposite from us.
Tatiana comforts Anastasia and Olga, letting them sob in her shoulders while her own tears simply run down her neck. As always thinking of herself last. The side of her head already has a small yet ugly scab. Further proof that it happened.
I know it has been hours since we left Ekaterinburg when the sun starts rising, its light slowly entering through the corners of the curtains.
We keep sobbing. Sometimes we do so without making much noise. Sometimes we choke with sobs in a way that can probably be heard all over the train. Half the time, Alexeiʼs face remains covered as he holds me as tightly as I do.
"You are with us", I whisper in my little brotherʼs ear more than one time, "you will be fine."
I donʼt recognize my own voice… how could this truly have happened?
Olga is the first to compose herself. Anastasia does so next. Alexei starts trying to, but he doesn't stop holding on to me. His recent injuries are making it painful for him to sit straight or move his hands. He flinches wherever he tries to do either of those things, making an effort to hide his distress. So bizarrely typical of him.
I am the last one to stop sobbing right after Tatiana does.
Now we cry in silence.
Our cabin is small, but there is more than enough space for the five of us.
Just like many times before, the windows are covered by dark curtains we are not allowed to roll. We are not allowed to leave the cabin without permission either.
My sister Nastya is sitting closest to the window. Tatiana, who carries Ortipo on her lap, sits next to her. Olga is the closest to the corridor, which more curtains hide from us.
Anastasia breaks the rules several times, which was to be expected. She moves the curtain just enough to peek out.
It is not the same as before though. Instead of gushing about what she has managed to get a glimpse of, Anastasia remains silent. Her sad, swollen, and tear-filled eyes don't change, they don't meet mine. The few times our eyes do meet, we share a sad look that inevitably makes both of us start sobbing again, because we know it is not a dream. It is not a nightmare.
The guards stationed outside donʼt seem to care about enforcing the rules. They havenʼt entered our cabin or bothered us at all, something I am thankful for. The only nuisance they claim themselves unable to avoid inflicting upon us is insisting on escorting us every single time we have to go to the bathroom. Then they wait right outside the door.
Tatiana was the first to go. She broke the silence for the very first time just a few minutes ago when she rolled the curtains in order to ask one of the guards stationed outside for permission. She could barely form a coherent sentence and was crying the entire time. It was so very awkward.
Still, we have all grown accustomed to this nonsense. We were used to having our belongings searched and stolen. We were used to being escorted to the bathroom. We were used to the way they ignored us whenever we tried to speak to them, to their occasionally rude behavior… we were even getting used to receiving less and less sunlight with each passing day.
But we had never been stripped of our dignity so outrageously like we were yesterday. Just the thought of how our mama might have reacted had she witnessed the way her daughters and son were treated makes me choke with sobs again. She loved us so much.
We didnʼt even have time to grieve for our dead parents before we were forced to strip naked in front of those beasts. They said it was to find the jewels. I know they did it for their own gratification.
I have never felt so humiliated in my life. Those filthy men know what we look like under our clothes when no one gave them the right to! I should have refused to undress, and I am ashamed of how quickly I complied when they made their wicked request. I am unclean now. I am drowning in shame. I was just so afraid they were going to beat me like that man did in the cellar…
That evil man. I have never known such evil before. He taunted us, I remember now. He said he was going to throw acid at my parents… my poor papa…
I wanted to die. I don't think I will ever again feel as miserable as I did at that moment.
When they started touching us, talking to us like that… I couldn't believe how graphic the descriptions of what they were willing to do to us were getting.
"Let's take the bitches outside and shoot them after we are done", one of them suggested. "Let the neighbors hear everything!"
"Let them join", another one added as he pinched Tatiana so hard I am surprised she didnʼt bleed. "These four are public property now!"
They were laughing maniacally, like actual demons from a horror story.
Poor Tanya was a saint. She pleaded with them. She tried to shield us.
Our dear Nastya is too young to have heard such filth, to have been groped in such a way. She looked so scared and confused. I feared so much more for her.
The hands of those beastly men are still stuck in my body, just like the dry blood is stuck in my hair. The memories themselves are so engraved in my mind I doubt even a shower would help. It is unbearable.
Even then I canʼt help but be thankful. They only groped us. As revolting and violating as that felt, I know it could have been so much worse. I am not stupid.
I am sure God protected us from any further indignation the same way He protected my sisters that awful night on the Rus. Olga and Tatiana told me they weren't allowed to lock their cabin doors at night. They were fortunately not bothered though.
My sisters and I are not as badly injured as our poor Alyosha either. It pains my soul to imagine how scared he must have felt down there, alone in that cellar, while being attacked by the same monstrous man who gave me a nosebleed. The same monstrous man who had already tried to stab him before with a diabolical viciousness that should only be reserved for the most powerful enemies in battle, not helpless children. Our poor baby then had his wounds stitched by that other murderer without any painkillers. Every time those thoughts cross my mind, I kiss his temple and hug him even tighter than before. He never wants to pull away, and neither do I.
Then there was the warehouse. The hours without food, the bucket. An insult to our dignity that we would have suffered through immensely if we hadn't been in too much of a shock to care. All we could think about was the fact our parents were dead. All we could do was sob or weep, desperately clinging to each other.
We have no idea where they are taking us or for what purpose. We are as clueless as I was back when I accompanied my parents to Ekaterinburg without knowing what the future had in store for us. Now we know.
I will never travel with my parents again, take a walk with papa again, talk and joke with him and Nastya again, or have fun doing silly things like breaking the ice with him again. I can't stand it. He was the kindest and gentlest of fathers.
He could have easily comforted me with a simple hug and a few hopeful words. I am sure that if papa were here, I would have already laughed about what those men said to us. I would feel safe right now.
But he is gone, and he left in such a terrible way as well... my heart broke in half right after the first bullet. As I let out a bitter sob, it is me who hugs Alexei tighter for comfort this time.
And mama, my poor darling mama. I already miss talking to her. I am going to miss her soft voice as we prayed together. I am going to miss the funny faces and sounds she made at babies.
I am even going to miss helping her with daily chores, being her legs. Having to do so secretly annoyed me when I was a little girl. Those sorts of tasks always suited Tanya better, but now I wish I could spend every single day of my life doing chores with mama rather than not a day more. Mama will never tease me again, or meet my future husband. She won't be there to calm my fears the morning of my wedding and won't meet her grandchildren.
Mama will not make those silly sounds and faces at my babies like I always imagined she would.
I suddenly realize that even my bitter thoughts are exceedingly optimistic, because I donʼt know for certain if we will ever be allowed to get married. What could possibly stop them from keeping us prisoners forever? Nothing, but I donʼt care.
It was always "us seven". I used to imagine my parents, sisters, and brother playing with their little nieces and nephews whenever I felt scared or anxious about the future. While we were separated for the very first time, fantasizing about this in great detail would always lift my spirits.
Now our separation is permanent, and any future is gray without papa and mama. Thinking of my hypothetical children no longer fills me with joy.
Oo
Time passes. Our tears remain silent. I feel empty.
No one says a word, not even after we have all stopped crying. Everyone has the same serious and resigned expression. Our eyes are puffy and red.
Perhaps my siblings are afraid of saying the wrong thing or trying and failing to console the others, or they are, like me, so shocked and disillusioned by everything we have gone through that there are no words capable of expressing how we feel.
The only time any of us breaks the silence is to ask for permission to go to the bathroom, or in my brotherʼs case, to ask me to carry him there. I do so, and after I have carried him back to the compartment, I notice how tired he is and insist that he lie down and rest his head on my lap. He soon falls asleep, and I try to do the same.
Terrifying thoughts disturb my sleep almost immediately.
I see mama and papa's bodies. The guards keep shooting at us. I watch as Olenka and Tatianushka are shot in the head.
Nastya is bayoneted like Anna was, she is asking for help… and I am paralyzed. I can't do anything about it. I even feel the pain of the bullets as they pierce my skin.
I am so tired I wish I could drop dead right now, but the terror chases my sleep, is engraved in my body, and follows me wherever I go. I can't go on without them. Nothing makes sense… what am I supposed to do without my parents?!
I wake up with a scream, but I am soon relieved to find out that I only screamed in my nightmare.
It would be silent if it weren't for the locomotive. My immediate impression is that everything has been a bad dream, but this impression doesn't last long.
We are on a train without papa and mama. My already swollen eyes fill with tears, and I don't hold them back.
Alexei still sleeps with his head on my lap and his legs resting on the seat. Tatiana and Anastasia are sleeping in uncomfortable positions. Only Olga is awake, her eyes unfocused and haunted. She is not crying anymore, not even silently, but having done so for such a long time has made her swollen face almost unrecognizable.
I feel the train slow down and then gradually stop moving. We are somewhere else and... papa, papa, my precious golden papa, he is not coming with us. I look down and start sobbing again, doing so for minutes or perhaps even an hour until the sound of Olga's voice interrupts me.
"Papa told me that it was important for us to forgive everyone, that this was what he had already done," her tone is low, sad, hopeless. "It is easy to do so when all you have to forgive are disrespectful people. It is harder to do when you have been seriously wronged."
I am in awe, not because of anything she said, but because she is talking. I don't know what to say. I didnʼt even want to talk. Not for a thousand years.
I know how important forgiveness is, but I loved and still love papa so much that forgiving those who killed him would feel like a betrayal even though I know it is what he would have wanted. To be honest, forgiveness is the least of my worries right now. How can I forgive when I donʼt even know how to breathe without being in pain?
Still, I don't want to ignore my sister, who must also feel miserable. Struggling to compose myself, I try to think of something to say, and my mind jumps straight to papa, papa and his last words. I think of how much I wish I could be with him in heaven right now, with our Lord as well, in their arms...
"Before he died…" I reluctantly begin, "the last thing he did was ask God to forgive them, as Jesus had done on the cross. But we don't have to do that just yet, I don't feel ready", my voice becomes smaller every second and is ultimately broken by another sob.
Olga nods, her eyes filling with tears. "It is just so hard," her voice breaks. "I mean, I knew this could happen, and mama knew too. Remember all those lessons she gave us about suffering whenever she taught us theology?"
"Yes," I sigh in confirmation. Theory is much easier than practice.
Tatiana has aroused from her nap too. "She said that suffering prepared our souls for heaven and brought us closer to God." Our sister starts nodding frantically in an attempt to stop herself from crying again, but she fails, and Olga strokes her back as she weeps and then sobs in her arms for minutes and minutes. As Alexei is still sleeping in my arms, I can do nothing but watch them, my own eyes creating a waterfall of tears. Just thinking about mama's great faith and hope for us restarts the cycle. I am a sobbing mess again.
More time goes by. I can not believe what just happened, and then suddenly I can, making me break down completely.
"They are, in… heaven, now, my dears", Tatiana pants after a few minutes. "There is no suffering, there, God is just, testing us, right now."
Olga puts her arms around our sister, who keeps weeping into her shoulder.
"Mama did try to prepare us in case something happened, but she never lost hope that we would be rescued", Olga mutters with a soft, maybe weak, tone of voice. "I never lost hope either, I mean… I did understand it was unlikely, but deep down I always hoped I was wrong."
"Do you think, we should, start praying, for their souls?" Tatiana asks with great difficulty amidst pauses to breathe in and out deeply, sniveling, and then she pulls away. "And… and also, for Jesus and the Virgin, for them to give us a little bit of... comfort?" She wipes her tears. "I know it may be a little bit... too soon, for me to tell you this, but it is true. We will see papa and mama again, no matter what happens, but we have to live for them whatever time we have left."
"Yes, dear", I nod.
I get the urge to kiss my poor sister on the cheeks, so I lean forward to reach her, and a small glimmer of peace fills my heart when I show her my affection. As Olga begins stroking my hair, an image of heaven appears in my mind, one that could very well be a vision. A small comfort after what those beasts did to them. A victory over the murderers. It isnʼt strong enough to stop another sob from escaping my throat.
Feeling me move has awakened Alexei, who proceeds to straighten up with a yelp that cruelly reminds me of his injuries. The sound of my sobs wakes Anastasia up as well.
"Are you all right?" Tanya asks our brother. "Does it hurt too much?"
"No, no", he assures us, his voice hollow and unrecognizable as that of a thirteen-year-old. "I am fine."
His eyes look so empty… and the sacks under them accentuate this impression. I remember that moment in the cellar when I feared for his life. The bayonet thrusts of that creature. I remember the way he screamed while that man fixed him up and I want to cry out for him again, but I suppress the urge.
"Let me make sure the stitches are in place…" Tatiana wipes away her tears quickly before leaving her seat. "I am not even sure if that animal knows how to stitch properly."
"I am fine," Alexei groans as he looks away, a lack of concern regarding his own health evident in his tone, but he allows Tatiana to check the wounds in his hands and stomach without moving too much.
I wipe my tears and breathe in and out deeply. Olga is composed, and Tatiana is already doing something useful. I too should be strong for my younger siblings.
"Seems everything is fine, thank the Lord," Tatiana says, crossing herself. She then puts the bandages back in place. Olga and I cross ourselves as well.
"It is such a shame that you are hurt again," my little sister Anastasia laments, looking at Alexei with sorrowful eyes. "You were starting to get better."
"We were going to start praying," I inform Alyosha and Nastya, trying to appear calm. "Do you want to join in?"
They both nod, but I can tell they are not in the mood. We still pray for mama and papa to be with God in a better place. We pray for Russia, for the war to end, for comfort and unity, and for the safety of our friends and relatives under arrest. We pray for a long time. We recall stories about Christian martyrs to put the excruciating pain we are experiencing right now into perspective, and after doing so, we begin feeling grateful enough to thank God for sparing our lives. Being appreciative of our luck makes us fear what the future holds though, so we pray for strength too.
The five of us cry as we pray. Sometimes we sob. Healing tears, I think. Afterwards, Olga reminds us that whatever comes from God, we have to accept.
"We may not understand His reasons now", she tells us, "but He knows why He allows things to happen."
Her voice is still so soft and weak... this isn't easier for her than it is for us, but she has such a strong faith. I hope I can follow her example.
The little ones' moods change. They are not their rambunctious selves, of course. They haven't even smiled, but they seem calmer. In the end we all hug, kiss, and cry tears of relief instead of just anguish. I kiss Tatiana more than the others, as I am grateful for the way she suggested praying and thus pulled us out of the cycle, at least for now.
I feel like I can talk about other things now. The anguish will always be there, this I know, but not every single second of the day.
"I love you all so much", Olga's eyes fill with tears again, but she holds them back this time. "Mama would be proud of you, Tanya", her voice breaks. This is more than enough to give us all the urge to cry and hug each other again. I love them so much as well. Of course mama would be proud. Tatiana is living up to her nickname: "The Governess." She has always guided us on the right path, and now she is acting like a mother to us all after our terrible loss.
Having pulled away once more, my siblings and I stay in peaceful silence for one or two minutes.
"The train has been still for too long", Anastasia suddenly points out in a monotone voice as she peeks at the window.
"We were told not to look Nastya," Tatiana reprimands her. "We donʼt know what these men are capable of."
"I wonder what time it is," I say.
"I am hungry," Alexei announces. "Is anyone else hungry?" He asks shyly. I am hungry too, I come to realize.
"I think I would be if my stomach didnʼt hurt so badly", Anastasia groans. "You know... where the bullet hit. You all saw it, didn't you? Mama's jewels saved us."
Amidst new tears, the five of us recall the different ways in which the jewels protected us. Remembering the cellar scares Alexei though, so I allow him to hide his face in my chest and cry. Now I understand what happened to my beloved siblings a lot more clearly. I understand why none of that killed them.
"I will thank God every second of every day", I lean over to kiss my little sister on her wet cheek. "If it weren't for mama's jewels, you would all be dead. I wouldn't have known what to do, I would have sunk into despair."
"It was a miracle", Tatiana's tears roll down. "Mama's love protected us four, and God protected you, Masha."
"I saw your bruises", I look at each of my sisters. "They are all horrendous, are you sure you are not in pain? Is there anything I can do?" Anything, I would do anything for them.
"It comes and goes", Tatiana admits, "sometimes it is fine, sometimes it is unbearable, and sometimes it is hard to breathe." She wipes away her tears, nodding.
"I find it hard to breathe as well", Olga grunts. "But my pain doesn't come and go, it is always unbearable. I can't even touch my chest anymore, it is so sore, but don't worry Masha, I don't think there is anything that can be done right now."
Alyosha is looking at the four of us with discernible concern. Seeing this, Olga changes the subject and talks directly at him. "It is good that you are hungry. You are only hungry when healthy, but I am not too sure about asking the guards for food."
"I agree, we don't know if they are the friendly type," Tatiana concurs. "But of course they must feed us sooner or later. It has been a day, and they let us live for a reason. If you want, I can ask them later, but I can't promise you anything."
"I think we should ask them for food over and over again until we make them go mad," Anastasia blurts out. No one laughs at poor Nastya's premature joke, so she lowers her chin in shame, blushing.
It was clearly an ill-thought-out attempt to cheer everyone up. "Oh, Shvibzik", I shake my head and sigh, bemoaning over our grim situation.
"Not now Nastya," Tanya scolds her, but whether she does so for the joke or for suggesting that we provoke the guards I can't be sure. "First we need to get to know them better and see what we are dealing with."
"I miss the nice guards of Tobolsk," Alexei laments, trying but miserably failing to hold back tears. "They were nice to papa and mama." My heart breaks for him.
"I know baby," Tatiana leans forward to give his skinny long hand a squish. Watching him cry makes her and me both tear up.
Most of the guards in Tobolsk were very nice indeed. They behaved in a gentlemanly manner towards us. Some of them even played cards with papa and Alexei. One taught my little brother how to use a bow and arrow. A more typical boy could not exist, so Alexei was, of course, delighted by this.
"But some of the guards in Ekaterinburg were also nice, remember the one who gave Mashka a cake for her birthday?" Anastasia attempts to lighten the mood once again, this time, it seems, for the sake of Alexei.
Tatiana flinches. I look away, uncomfortable with the subject. Silence reigns and Anastasia lowers her chin again.
The guard my little sister mentioned, Ivan, brought me and my family cake. We also small-talked. He wasn't supposed to be speaking to us though, so this was unfortunately a one-time thing. The last thing we heard about him is that he was sick. I hope he is doing well now. None of us are in the mood to talk about any of this though.
I pity my poor baby sister, but I do not understand how she can still joke after what just happened.
"Do you think …" Alexei mutters, nervous about what he is about to ask, "he would have been capable of doing… that… if ordered to? Killing papa and mama, I mean, Yur… that man… was also nice when he first arrived, and he asked me about my health and stuff."
"He also said there would be no more stealing of our valuables, and when he first arrived, the new guards he brought with him behaved better," Olga adds, conceding his point.
No one talks. I had never thought of that… would he?
"I don't think so," Anastasia reassures our brother, but I am not sure whether she really means her own words or is only trying to comfort him. "Most of the guards who took part in the shooting weren't even allowed to talk to us, remember? Even papa tried to chat with them, and they usually shut all of us down. Yurovsky was the exception because he was the commander, so he had to talk to us, and all that worrying about your health was probably him trying to make us lower our guard, don't you think? Also, that nonsense about taking us to a safer place only to shoot at us instead, what is up with that?"
"Whatever way the new guards treat us, we can't afford to trust them so easily," Tatiana warns us. "We must be careful."
I don't say anything, but I don't know what is the use of being careful around the guards, of mistrusting them, when we are at their mercy either way. Any trust I had in the guards disappeared the moment they decided to kill our parents and friends, but that didnʼt stop them from humiliating us and stealing all of our jewels. If I ever meet a friendly guard again, and assuming I am allowed to talk to him, I wonʼt miss the opportunity to do so.
"Well, I don't care about the guards anymore!" Anastasia declares as she crosses her arms. "I only want them to let us go outside for longer than five miserable minutes and not to paint the windows white, or threaten to shoot us whenever we try to open them for fresh air."
"Ugh, yes!" Tatiana agrees. "Those windows were so bad for poor mama's health, they only made her headaches worse."
The mention of mama's sad last days makes us all silent and gloomy again. More and more tears follow.
Oo
The minutes go by and yet the train does not move further. Where are we?! My troubled mind races whenever I am not actively grieving for mama and papa. Where did they take us and for what purpose?!
Most importantly, why don't they let us go out?
Anastasia must be worried about the same thing, because she takes a small glance through the curtains. The teary-eyed Alexei tries to get a glimpse too.
"Don't move the curtains!" One of the guards, who looks around the same age as Anastasia, orders loudly while entering the cabin. Anastasia and Alexei quickly go back to their positions.
"Comrade! Comrade!" Olga shouts before he leaves, using the word mockingly. "Do you have anything to eat?"
She is being too daring. A horrifying thought crosses my mind: I imagine that guard suddenly pulling out his revolver and shooting my sister right in the head without even a warning.
Tatiana's eyes open wide in fear. She must be dreading the same possibility.
"No," he answers in a serious tone. "And you are not my comrade, citizen Romanova."
"But we are starving!" Anastasia exaggerates, imitating Olga.
I panic and stay completely still.
"You will be fed once you arrive at your assigned location," he states.
"Please give us food!" Anastasia pleads loudly, almost yelling, as she extends the back of her palm over her forehead melodramatically. Alexei smiles for the first time since... I am happy for him, but I am also scared. Tatiana and I share a nervous glance.
"Be quiet," the guard grumbles, and then he walks away. I breathe deeply.
The hurt fades for a second, and then something amazing happens. We all smile briefly, entertained by the ridiculously stern attitude of our captors. Well, all of us but Tatiana, who stares at us in appalled bewilderment.
"Are you crazy?!" She snaps at Olga once the short-lived amusement subsides. "He could have killed you!"
Olga simply shrugs.
Suddenly, an appallingly mundane thought occurs to me:
"We are going to die of boredom", I say.
"Why?" Tatiana asks.
"We left all of our belongings in Ekaterinburg, books, clothes, card games, everything..." I look down and sigh.
Anastasia sinks dramatically to the ground, pretending to faint, when she hears me say this. Oh, Shvibzik, I will never understand you. And yet that is why I love her so much.
"You can get out now," the young guard who scolded us announces. "You have arrived at your destination, follow me."
Anastasia straightens up quickly.
"Where are we?" My scared little brother Alyosha asks when I pick him up, something I will probably have to do more often now that papa is gone. I am the strongest of the sisters, and we weren't allowed to bring a wheelchair.
The guard doesn't answer the question. He merely takes us through the door outside the train.
We all walk through the station with five guards around us. I manage to ask a passing woman what station we are in, but one of the guards covers my sight of her and orders us to walk faster before she can answer.
Leaving the station, we are met by a horse-led covered wagon. I become worried that the bumps in the road will turn out to be a problem for Alexei, who is still recovering from his latest hemophilia attack. Staring at each other with evident fear in our eyes, my siblings and I have no choice but to follow the soldiers into the carriage as they rudely tell us to hurry.
There are soldiers, probably our new guards, riding other horses ahead and behind our carriage.
The sky is blue. I can hear people talking, birds singing, horses neighing, and soldiers marching. This place is such a different world from the horror we left that I begin feeling as if our recent experience were nothing but a horrible nightmare.
I am in a dream once again. It couldn't have happened. For an instant, I even become excited about our new location, which immediately makes me feel guilty. I am brought back to a depressing state.
Papa.
There is nothing to look forward to. My siblings must feel the same way, because they haven't said anything since we left the train. All of us start crying again at some point.
We travel through what looks too big to be a village, but I don't know whether we are in a town or a city. The houses and churches don't look much different from the ones at Tobolsk, which reminds me of how much I wish they would let us go to church, even though I know this is unlikely. Tatiana shakes, Alexei sniffles in my arms, Olga's empty stare returns, and Anastasia bursts into wails at the sight of the churches, probably missing them as much as I do. My own tears refuse to stop flowing at the thought of mama's smile. How would she have reacted to all of this? To the city? To the journey? I want her by my side so badly, talking to me, and yet her poor face... I gasp at the memory.
Finally, we stop by a house on the outskirts of the town or city, near the countryside.
The dwelling emulates a traditional Russian peasant log house, but it is a lot bigger, although not nearly as big as the Ipatiev House. It is painted blue and has white decorations. My siblings and I turn our tear-strained faces towards the mansion and stare at it with curiosity.
"Papa would have loved it here," I hear Olga say with her sad and dull voice. "He always loved Russian designs such as these."
My interest in the house disappears. It will be such a trial to live anywhere without papa. There is something missing. What is his real opinion on the house?
"Maybe he is watching from heaven," Anastasia comments in a shaky voice. My dear baby sister was sobbing uncontrollably just seconds before. Poor thing. I know she is right.
"Well, we are here, what exactly are you waiting for?" One of the guards all but grumbles in a condescending manner that frightens me. I realize I can no longer feel anger towards any of these men, they scare me so.
He does offer Olga his hand in order to help her get out of the carriage though, so I relax. He does the same for all of us.
"Do you want me to carry him?" He asks, referring to Alexei.
"No thanks," I answer, suddenly feeling protective.
"Suit yourself."
He walks ahead of us.
The inside of the house is well furnished and looks cozy. A slender old man with a white beard and blue eyes covered by glasses receives us in the living room and invites us to sit.
"Are these the Romanov citizens?" He asks one of the guards who accompanied us.
"Yes," the guard, a blond, responds.
The old man stares at us. He reminds me so much of Dr. Botkin that for a moment I feel the urge to cry again, but then I hear the front door from which we entered close, reminding me we are this man's prisoners and will probably never mean anything to him the way we did for our friend Eugene Botkin.
"I am going to call each of you by your name", he explains. "If I am right you say yes, if I am wrong please correct me." After adjusting his glasses, he prepares to read from a paper: "We are going to have to do this every day… Olga Nikolaevna Romanova?" He points a finger at my oldest sister.
"Yes," she confirms. He then calls Tatiana, me, Anastasia, and finally, my baby brother.
Poor Anastasia was still crying when her turn came.
"Let me introduce myself," the old stranger begins after he is done identifying us. "I am Commander Pavel Antonovich, and I am going to oversee you during your stay here. We need to talk about the rules. First of all, your rooms and bathroom will be upstairs, and the rooms and bathroom of the guards, including myself, will be downstairs. You can move freely inside the house, but you can't go inside the guards' rooms or bathroom, are we clear?"
We all nod. Seems little has changed.
"The guards are not allowed upstairs without my permission, so they will not bother you except during roll calls," he continues. "I was informed you wouldn't bring any possessions with you, so I took the liberty of buying an extra set of clothes for each of you so you can have something to wear whenever one set is dirty, but that is all. They are already folded on your beds upstairs."
While I am impressed by his kindness and consideration, I donʼt allow myself to get my hopes up.
"You are also allowed to go outside anytime you want, but you need to ask for permission and will be followed around by the guards, you can't leave any further than the fence either," he proceeds. "If you need anything, my office is downstairs in the basement after walking through the first door right from the main entrance."
I can't believe my ears.
"Are there no limits to the time outside?" Anastasia asks, tentatively smiling at each of us as she wipes away her tears.
Alexei wipes his own tears and returns our sister a sad half-smile. Something changes within me. Maybe there is hope for the future after all. Maybe I am just relieved, because soon I will be able to properly enjoy the sunlight without the constant anxiety of knowing our time will be up. We have been deprived of the sun for so long that this feels like a huge kindness.
"I am well aware that these are more freedoms than you were allowed in your previous location", he says. "Use them wisely and don't make me regret requesting them for you. If any of you escape, all of the consequences will fall on me, remember that and donʼt get me in trouble."
This man and his kindness remind me a lot of Commander Pankratov, the man who oversaw our stay at Tobolsk. He once asked us if we had enough books to read.
"We wonʼt cause you any trouble sir," Tatiana promises him. "Are we allowed to send letters?"
"I am afraid not," Pavel answers with an apologetic tone. "You are not allowed to receive them either, I am sorry to say. No one is even supposed to know you are alive until the negotiations for your release are successful."
I feel sad about this, I wanted so badly to get some news about Aunt Olgaʼs baby, Tikhon.
"What negotiations?" Olga asks.
"I am really not supposed to talk to you about that, children," he answers. "Any more questions?"
It surprises me that he called us children, not that it bothers me, but only Alexei and arguably Anastasia fit into that category. Part of me is relieved by what this man sees in us, which is something so unthreatening and even irrelevant that we might as well be children.
Maybe he will make the others realize the same thing, maybe they will let us go. Maybe it was a nightmare after all. If only, if only…
"Where are we?" Anastasia blurts out before I can ask the same thing.
"You are in the city of Perm, which is about 291 kilometers away from Ekaterinburg," he stands up. "Now, I am guessing you must be very hungry. Would you prefer to have breakfast or a bath first?"
-References to murder, violence, injury, sexual assault and forced stripping.