Bulletproof Jewels

by Gabros

The reds spare all of the Romanov children, but not out of the kindness of their hearts. Historical AU. Cover image by JustDerkT.

10. The siberian woods

Trigger warnings:

-Flashbacks/references to rape, abuse, and mutilation.

Olga Nikolaevna Romanova.

The first thing I feel is a hand, gently caressing my face. My head hurts so badly. Wherever I am smells like vomit, and all I can hear besides the ringing of my ears is loud snoring and a voice, closer to me. It is also raining outside.

"Please be alive, please make her be alive, please God", someone prays. Someone who weeps. It is my brother.

Everything hurts. The pain grows stronger every second. That is how I know it was not a dream. I take a few seconds to accept that fact without dwelling too much on it and then open my eyes. My eye. One of my eyes is so swollen I can't even open it.

Wait, where are they? Will they keep going?! I sit up and scream, looking around the room in search of danger. The pain intensifies throughout my entire body as soon as I do that, especially down my spine. I scream louder.

"Shh, shh", my brother puts a hand on my shoulder. I flinch violently without intending to, so he takes his hand away from me and puts his index finger on his lips instead. "You are going to wake them up", he whispers. I stop screaming.

My sight is blurry, so I can't see much. I am now thankfully aware that it is only us two in the room though. The light from the kerosene lamp is still there, but it is dimmer, and so is the light entering through the curtains of the window.

Alexei's right cheek is horribly swollen, and his left earlobe and lower lip are still bleeding. My brother is using his hands to apply pressure to the injuries. The left part of his neck has nevertheless been painted red with blood pouring from the wound in his ear. For a moment, I can't breathe, then I do so way too fast. He needs medical attention, but I can't think. I am sore and tired. I don't even want to be alive right now. I wish I were unconscious again.

"Where are they?" I ask with whatever is left of my raspy voice.

"They all went downstairs to eat after they finished", Alexei mumbles in a tiny voice as he wipes away some of his tears. "I think they are sleeping." I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

I am covered by the clothes of a peasant woman, but I don't have them on properly. Instead, they hide my lower body like a blanket. I realize now that when I sat up, my torso was uncovered. I grab the clothes and quickly fix my mistake.

"I thought you might like to have something to put on once you woke up", Alexei mutters, avoiding my gaze. I can tell he is ashamed of something. He points a finger at the door. "I took it from her body, outside", he says. "She is dead."

I become emotional for the first time. He shouldn't have to be taking clothes away from the corpses of murdered old ladies in order to make sure his sister has something to wear after her rapists ripped all of her clothes off. We both left our second set of clothes in the cabin of the steamer. I truly have nothing else to wear.

"Thank you", I say. I am not sure I agree with what he did, but I know for certain he had no malicious intent.

I become worried about something else.

"They didn't hurt you when you went outside to fetch the clothes, right?" I ask him, my eye opened wide. "Right?!"

"No, no", he touches my good shoulder for comfort, which makes me flinch for a second time. He pulls his hand away from me as fast as if he had been burnt on a stove.

My poor baby brother looks so concerned and shocked by my state. I must have sounded hysterical when I asked him that question, but how could I not? He was alone with those beasts. I don't know for how long.

"They are all asleep, I think", he reassures me. "Besides, they are downstairs, and the body is right outside upstairs."

I feel a ridiculous amount of nausea and have to empty my stomach right there on the floor. For the second, third, or maybe fourth time today, it seems.

"What happened to me?" I ask Alexei once I am done throwing up.

His cheeks turn red, his lip starts trembling, and a sob escapes his throat when he attempts to give me an answer.

"How did I become unconscious?" I rephrase the question. I am unfortunately aware of everything else.

"You didn't react, not after one of them punched you too hard", he replies, slowly losing composure throughout the sentence. His voice breaks by the last two words. "They kept… going, for a while, and then… and, then, left you, there", he sobs. "I thought you were, dead."

I begin crying too, in an ugly way. I can't believe this actually happened to me.

I start struggling to put on the old peasant's clothes, which is a difficult task due to the pain. Alexei covers his eyes and looks the other way. Nudity wouldn't have bothered him or me much before. My siblings and I weren't that modest when it was only us or our parents around, but now I feel thankful for the privacy.

I make a small motion to stand up in order to get dressed and immediately regret doing so, genuinely convinced that I will burst with agony and wake those monsters up with my screams if I try anything like that again. My entire body hurts, but not as badly as it hurts sharply down there, infinitely. Blood is running down my thighs abundantly, and so is that white, jelly-like substance. My breathing quickens at the recent memories. I feel sick. That is so gory and horrifying even for me to see. I empty my stomach again, letting out a sob as soon as I am done. My throat is also sore, my state is pathetic, and now I am surrounded by my own puke because I can barely move.

Numerous bruises paint almost every inch of my skin red and pink, making every tiny movement excruciating. This is unbearable. I want to die. Probably concerned about my pathetic sobs and whines of pain, Alyosha approaches me.

"Go away!" I cry, causing him to apologize with a pitiful whimper, but I am in so much pain that I can't even find it in myself to feel guilty about being hard on him.

It takes minutes for my body to become used to the pain just enough to move without feeling as if I were being tortured. Preparing myself to stand up again is a slow process filled with humiliating failures during which I cry out in agony before collapsing. I only succeed after leaping up in one abrupt movement just to get it over with.

But I haven't been standing for more than a few seconds when I have to sit back down. It is painful to stand on my two legs. Too painful. Taking a step, no matter how small, is even more so. I lose balance the second time I try to stand. The room spins, and my head hurts almost as much as the parts of my body that are bleeding. After a third attempt, I manage to remain standing long enough to dress. I sit back down as soon as I am done though. It is too painful. Too painful.

I feel nauseous again for a minute, but I don't throw up this time.

The red sarafan dress and the white linen shirt underneath are too big for me, and the ribbon meant to be tied around the waist does little to hide that. I have no clean undergarments to wear either. What I have will do for now though. I search and then crawl for my shoes. They were fortunately not too badly damaged when they took them off. I can still wear them.

I fear they will come back again. I couldn't bear it one second more. The mere thought makes me choke down a sob. They would destroy the small pieces of dignity I have managed to recover this past half an hour. I would rather die than go through that again.

I sit down next to my brother, far from the vomit, and we cry without talking under the dimming light of the lamp. We listen to the rain, the snores of the men downstairs, and eventually, each otherʼs sobs. Alexei tries to hug me at some point, but I flinch at his touch once more. He pulls back. I feel bad about rejecting him, but I can't help it.

I know it was extremely naïve and stupid on my part, but I genuinely had the feeling that my sisters and I were exempt from this. Not from murder, but exempt from this. The possibility was always a serious concern on my mind though, especially the moment right after our parents were murdered, and before that, when we were traveling on the Rus, forced to keep our cabin doors unlocked.

I am not an idiot either. I read the newspapers, and I know what the Germans and the Turks have done.

But deep down I never felt it was possible for it to actually happen. I couldn't fathom the concept of men who were truly capable of such atrocities. In my world, they were fictional monsters created by mothers to scare young girls out of going out unescorted. Surely no one could be so evil in real life, surely not. It simply wasn't part of my experience.

When I was a little girl studying English history, I told Miss Eagar that people were much better now than they used to be and that I was glad I lived in an era when people were so kind. It wasn't just my childhood innocence speaking. I genuinely didn't know anyone who wasn't kind.

Throughout the journey, as Tabakov continued to stare at me like that, I kept repeating to myself that it just couldn't happen. Not to me.

I hate myself for thinking like this, but for the first time in my life, I feel like God truly has abandoned me.

Even when my parents were murdered, God answered my prayer when I asked Him not to let us perish as Aniuta did. God answered my prayers for them to spare my brother as well. God answered my prayer when I begged Him to protect my sisters. The fact we haven't been killed yet is itself a miracle, more than I would ever dare ask God.

Today, God didn't answer any of my prayers. Not when I begged Him to make my suspicions about Tabakov wrong, not when I prayed for them to stop bullying us, not when I prayed to be spared. God didn't even answer my prayers when I begged for them to stop.

I don't feel like praying right now. I am not sure I am worthy of doing it anymore. I can't shake off the sensation that I have done something deeply wrong or committed a deadly sin. I know it is incredibly stupid, but the thought makes me start choking with sobs. I crave God more than anything in this life and yet I can't even pray.

I am glad it was me though. I am glad it wasn't Tatiana.

Perhaps God knew I would be glad. Perhaps He allowed me to drink from my own cup of poison to save my sisters and brother the same way Jesus drank His to save humanity. If going through it all again could protect any of my sisters from having to experience the same thing or protect Alexei from further harm, I would. I probably will. The men will eventually wake up, and when they do, I will have to do everything in my power to prevent them from hurting my brother. I choke on my own tears just thinking about what that will entail.

Part of me feels disgusted. I scold myself internally for daring to compare my defilement to Christʼs ultimate sacrifice on the cross. Another part of me defends the comparison fiercely. Tonight, I suffered more than I ever did before in my life, and I don't know how long my suffering will last. Will the guards in Moscow feel entitled to the same thing? Is this really my fate?

Mother used to say that suffering brought us closer to God. I wish she were still here with me, to comfort me and assure me that God accepts my kind of suffering... what would mama truly say if she were indeed here? Would she scold me for not leaving the room when I had the chance? Would she feel proud of me for saving Alexei? Would she defend my comparison?

I miss her. She seems further away now than ever. I also miss my fatherʼs kind smile and our interesting conversations, but I am glad he isn't here to blame himself for what happened. I miss them properly for the very first time since they were cruelly taken away from me, because now I know we will be apart for a really long time. I won't be with them any time soon, as much as I want to. As much as I need them.

My place is here. I have to protect my brother, who is not only my brother but also my godson, my spiritual child. He is my responsibility now.

Alexei is still holding his ear and lip. The wounds won't stop bleeding any time soon. It must be due to his illness. He needs medical attention before he loses too much blood, but I don't think any of the men will help us, and even if they do, I am terrified of waking them up. Not now. I can't take it again. Not so soon.

They were so drunk they didn't even care about the fact they had been ordered to take the heir safely to Moscow. They murdered innocent people in cold blood right in front of us. They are absolutely unpredictable. They cannot be reasoned with.

I go to the corner of the room where they ripped all of my clothes off. Horrible memories from earlier today invade my mind. I choke back my tears as I start picking up several pieces of clothing to use as bandages for Alexei.

I also need something to disinfect his wound though, but I am too scared to go downstairs to see if those beastly men succeeded at drinking all of the bottles.

I take a look at my brother again. His face is strained by pain, and he alters between holding his lip and using that same hand to rub his previously swollen knee, where he was also kicked today. He limped with those legs to get clothes for me. It doesn't matter if I am scared. I need something to disinfect his wound. I wipe my tears and stand up to grab the lamp.

"Where are you going?" My brother asks me.

"I am going to clean your wound with one of their bottles", I answer. He opens his eyes wide in fear. "They will not wake up", I soothe him. "I will be careful, I promise." I am not so sure about it, but what else can I say?

I slowly limp out of the room and pass over the bodies of the poor muzhiks. There is so much blood on the floor I feel like I am back in the cellar where my parents were murdered. Every step sends waves of pain all over my body. I want to cry out so badly.

I feel sick to my stomach when I get to Mishaʼs body. He tried to save us without even knowing our real names. He truly didn't deserve his fate. Misha told us about the way he lost his arm stepping in front of a friend who had gotten too close to a grenade. God bless his selfless soul.

Downstairs, I find a scene I would have considered comical if I weren't so frightened and sore. The blond guard, in his drunkenness, has fallen down the stairs. His head is covered in dry blood.

I don't know whether he is dead or simply has a mild concussion like I probably do as well. Maybe God is still on our side after all. I think sadly about how much my Shvibzik would have loved to see this.

All of the other men are either passed out or sleeping and snoring. Tabakov does so on the floor, the knife he used to rip my clothes off lying near him. I suddenly imagine him waking up and stabbing me with it like those other evil men stabbed Anna back in the cellar. I almost let out a panicked cry.

The man who cut my brotherʼs lobule off sleeps on the table, and yet another one lies unconscious on the bench.

I limp among them, shaking. My heart is beating faster than ever, and to my great distress, the man on the table is holding the last bottle of vodka, which is less than half full. I pray to God for the first time since the rape for him not to wake up when I take the bottle away from his hands.

He makes a huge snoring sound that startles me, but he doesn't wake up. The prayer has worked.

I slowly climb up the stairs again. Every step is agony. I start considering the possibility of escaping right after bandaging Alexeiʼs ear. The men are fast asleep, and there are three horses we can use right outside. The odds are in our favor… and I just don't want to go through that again.

When I get back to the room, I find my brother rubbing his knee more desperately than before while silently weeping because of the pain. My heart aches. This had to happen just when his knee was improving.

Alexei has always shown everyone a false image of bravado. I would point at him if anyone ever asked me what a typical boy is supposed to act like. Rowdy, active, romping, misbehaved. He has played war with his toy soldiers and jumped around pretending to be a mighty warrior himself since he was a little kid. He sang war songs holding riffles. While staying with our father at Stavka, the high command of the armed forces, he would eat and enjoy eating whatever the soldiers ate, watch parades and stand in guard as a real soldier would. Whenever the pains started afflicting him, he would always try to hide them for as long as he could.

He admires the brave and loves listening to war stories… but is literally scared of everything. The terrible illness he inherited from mama made her coddle him his entire life. To a certain extent, papa coddled him as well. Alexei has never been allowed to play tennis or even ride a proper two-wheeled bicycle, and although he has indeed been disciplined, this has always been done in an irritatingly gentle manner. My sisters and I were taught to behave much more straightforwardly.

Every time Alexei, Masha, Nastya, and I played with our toy guns, my brother would be the first one to leave the game after becoming scared of the fake shooting sounds. He is easily scared by people who yell at him, and recently, back in the cabin of the ship, he confessed to me that being carried by anyone other than Maria terrified him, as it reminded him of the way our parents' murderer had carried him. That unscrupulous man had then proceeded to stitch my brother's wounds without any anesthetic, so it is understandable he fears any stranger who carries him may intend to hurt him.

And yet, today he did everything he could for me. He fought bravely with his weak body against a healthy grown-up much like David did with Goliath… just without succeeding, and for that, he was hit mercilessly.

We can't put our trust in these men not to hurt us again. Even if they decided not to, I know they will kill my brother and probably me as well sooner or later, when we are no longer of any use to them. God has given us a clear sign that He wants us to escape by making it plausible.

"You are going to need to bite something, you can't make any sound", I take a pillow from the bed and give it to my brother. "Use this pillow."

Alexei obeys, biting down the pillow hard, and I start cleaning his ear wound and broken lip with a ripped piece of cloth and the bottle of vodka. He manages to avoid making noise very well, so I encourage him by telling him he is being very brave and give him a stern look whenever a sound louder than usual escapes him.

I tie up his ear as tight as I can. Then I advise him to hide his lips constantly to apply pressure on the wound in his mouth. I toy with the idea of cauterizing his ear wound with the lamp, but I wouldn't know how to do so properly or which parts to use.

I clean the bite wound of my shoulder, many times. I use what is left of the bottle. I can't believe he did that to me. That man can't be human. He has to be part animal or beast of some sort. I can't let him touch me again. I can't let any man do so, I decide.

I check Alexeiʼs legs, especially the leg which the horrid beast kicked. He yelps a lot, so I try to avoid touching, even by accident, any of the damaged parts. The swelling on his knee is pretty bad. I don't know how many weeks it will take for him to be able to straighten it up again. Swelling on his outer thigh is also beginning to form. It is only going to get worse when he rides the horse, but these are extreme circumstances. As soon as we are able to, I will make sure he rests.

"Listen", I say to him. "We are going to escape." He shakes his head.

"They are going to wake up and beat us!" He exclaims in a whisper, trying not to make much noise.

"Not if we do it quickly, without making a sound", I assure him. "Now, I know it is painful for you to limp so I am going to help you do so, but you have to make an attempt to walk down the stairs and then outside. We are going to ride the horses."

"But I don't even know how to ride without someone holding the reins for me!" He cries. "Tatiana didn't even think I would have been able to swing! And look at my hands! I won't be able to hold the reins, I am going to fall off the horse! Riding is much harder than swinging!" He shows me his injured and stitched hands. They are beginning to scar a little, but they do cause him trouble holding food utensils.

"You can do it", I say. "I have seen you trying to grab the fork, you are not completely incapable of doing so. It is manipulating it that troubles you." I probably sound more sure than I actually am. The truth is, I don't know if he will actually be able to hold the reins, but this is a life or death situation. "Besides", I continue, "you will use your legs more than your hands." The last part is true.

Alexei pouts, looking straight into my eyes, and when he sees I am not changing my mind, he starts sobbing. His fear could ruin everything. "But I don't have enough strength in my legs Olenka!" He weeps inconsolably. "It is going to hurt! Can we escape on foot?"

Is he joking? He can't walk, and I am almost unable to.

"If we escape on foot they will use the horses to follow us when they wake up and catch us in no time", I explain. "Riding gives us an advantage over them. Besides, walking will also hurt you, maybe more so. I know you are not supposed to ride. I wouldn't be asking this of you if we were not in so much danger."

Alexei still looks unsure. "I don't want to escape, they will kill us!" He whines. "And where are we going to go anyway?"

I have no idea. We stay silent for a few seconds.

"Go without me", he says solemnly after having steadied his breathing. "It is me they want to kill and you that they want to hurt, they won't chase you if you go alone."

I don't buy his act. He is terrified of being alone. He also knows I would never leave him on my own free will. He is just too scared to escape and wants to convince me to abandon the idea, knowing what to say in order for me to do so. Smart boy, but a little bit manipulative.

"Come", I say to him as I wipe his tears, more as an order I give with my authority as an older sister than as a suggestion. My firmness somehow manages to soothe him a bit, although he still looks incredibly anxious.

I put his right arm around my neck. He is shaking so much, poor thing. I grab the lamp and help him limp, making sure he uses his bad knee as little as possible. We walk down the stairs, my brother breathing a bit too loudly. I am barely holding on myself though, so I don't scold him.

There is one last thing I must do. I sit my brother on one of the wooden chairs.

"What are you doing?" He whispers, terrified. I look at him and put my index finger on my lips as I get closer to Tabakov and take the knife lying by his side. Then, I carefully pull the revolver out of his belt. My brother watches me in absolute awe.

We slowly walk out of the house. To my great surprise, the sun hasn't completely set yet. The sky is yellow and orange. It has also stopped raining, but the grass is still wet. I leave the lamp right outside the house. It will only make riding harder.

We walk to the backyard where the horses are being kept in the stable. I tell Alexei to sit close to me and wait for a few minutes as I prepare the horses.

I stare at the weapons I have stolen and sigh. I was given a pistol by my father. This was a long time ago. I was forced to give it up before we sailed for Ekaterinburg, something I regret a lot now, but I also wonder if it would have been of any use in this situation anyway. My aggressors were also armed, after all. Still, I can't help but fantasize for a moment about pointing my pistol at Tabakov the first time he enters the room. I imagine myself scaring him off, scaring all of them off. I imagine myself escaping with Alexei before any of them can touch me, all thanks to my small pistol, given to me by my dear father.

This revolver is different, bigger, but it can't be much harder to use. I examine the gun to deduce its correct use and make sure there are bullets. Then I look at the knife.

I understand we may need these weapons to defend ourselves out there, but the thought of shooting, or worse, stabbing anyone in real life, even a man as wicked as Tabakov, makes my stomach turn. I don't think even papa ever killed anyone with his own hands. No, I don't think I would ever be able to shoot at someone or sink a blade deep into their skin, but I can definitely see myself scaring potential attackers away, just like in my fantasy.

"What are we waiting for?" Alexei asks. I explain to him how to use the revolver. Having no pockets in my dress to keep it, I place it inside one of the pockets of his sweater, intending to grab it if we are ever in any danger. Finally, I slide the knife underneath the ribbon tied around my waist, also hiding it.

"Stay here, I am going to saddle two of the horses", I say, pointing at the saddles hung inside the stables.

Saddling the horses proves harder than expected. I have never done so on my own before. I feel impatient to leave already, but the horses don't know me, so I have to force myself to be kind and patient, petting them gently and sweet-talking to them.

If the rapists wake up, that will be the end of it. I don't have a plan. I pray that they don't, and I feel Godʼs presence clearly for the first time since I woke up. No, it is not the end.

I take out the first horse, a brown one, the one I consider the meekest.

"Mount, this one seems nice, it was the easiest to saddle", I tell Alexei. "Use your good leg first and then lift the other one, I will keep the horse still."

It takes lots of coercion to get him to do as I said. My brother is afraid, and he considers himself incapable of accomplishing anything despite my repeated reassurances and help offerings. I grow increasingly desperate, looking back and forward many times to see if they are already following us.

Eventually, I grab his arm as he steps on the stirrup with his relatively good leg. He then lifts his other leg, finally mounting the horse hesitantly. I had to help him with one arm while keeping the horse still with the other. In the end, I was left completely exhausted. I may scold him for this later when we are out of danger.

Once Alexei is on the horse, I help him with the reins. He relaxes, as I can tell by the steadiness of his breath, and manages to keep the horse still.

I walk towards my horse and remember there are three of them. The men will probably steal horses from other peasants to follow us, but letting the third one go may buy us some time. They won't have any horses ready waiting right outside.

I take the remaining horse outside and let her go. She doesn't run, but it takes no time for her to wander off. Then I get the additional idea of throwing the third saddle away, as far away from the surroundings of the house as I can. I don't know if that will help much, but it is something.

I feel an agonizing pain under my belly and lower when I mount my horse. I have to breathe deeply several times before it becomes in any way manageable. I have not ridden astride since I was a very small girl on a donkey. I am used to riding side-saddle, but the peasants don't have a side-saddle. I will have to improvise. I pray this isn't too hard.

I squeeze the horse gently with my calves, and it moves forward.

Oo

We both ride the mares slowly, away from the cottage, through the village, and into the fields. There are few villagers outside, so it must be late. I hope none of the ones who saw us say anything too damning.

I decide not to wander too far away from the river, as I know most villages are located near bodies of water.

My heart is racing. The hardest part is over… that is, until riding inevitably causes Alexei another attack, but there are many problems I need to solve before I start planning how to deal with his impending health crisis.

My brother is no longer crying. Neither am I. I don't have time to think of my own misery right now.

Alexei seemed nervous to be riding a horse alone for the very first time, but I reassured him by staying close to him at all times. He has slowly gained more confidence though. We are now galloping far away from the village and into the woods.

The fresh air and the excitement of doing something as fun, dangerous, and previously forbidden to him as escaping a bunch of violent villains while horseback riding appears to have made Alexei forget about the pain for a while. My brother isn't smiling, but he seems at ease, probably thinking of this as an adventure like those in many films he has watched.

I am glad for my brother, but I also worry the confidence will start getting to his head, causing him to do something stupid and dangerous like he did when he sled down the stairs in Tobolsk, which surprisingly isn't what provoked his subsequent attack on that occasion.

My fears are not unfounded. Once in a while, Alexei starts going way too fast, faster than me. I scold him harshly, shouting at him whenever he does so. If we don't ride together, I will lose sight of him.

My lower body hurts again, sharp pains making me feel as if it were happening all over again. I force myself not to remember with each gallop, trying to think of happier times instead. My sixteenth birthday, dancing, my sisters, riding bicycles with the little pair inside the palace, Aunt Olgaʼs parties, snowball fights, my friends back in Petrograd...

I look behind us. I can no longer see any trace of the village from here. My environment has been transformed. All I can see are huge green pine trees. I feel like I am truly safe from harm for the first time in months.

Thank you, God. You decided to send us these trials for a reason. I know that, but it is so hard to remember when your mind and body are clouded by suffering. I use my right hand to cross myself quickly before putting it back on the reins.

All of my troubles disappear for minutes. After almost two years, I have escaped. It is so surreal. I feel a rush of excitement at the prospect of having to make my own decisions on what to do next for the very first time in my life.

The sound of a wolf howling in the distance brings me back to reality.

I look around and acknowledge the fact that we are now in the middle of the Siberian woods with only the far away sound of the river to guide us. The sun is almost set and I have no plans for what to do next. Where are we going to sleep? What are we going to eat? What are we going to feed the horses? Is that wolf near? Are there others around? We are in no way safe. Freedom comes with a huge price, a responsibility I am not sure I will be able to bear.

At least it is not winter.

We need to find another village soon, but where? I don't know these woods.

Oo

The horses have already slowed down, and they will eventually get tired.

"Where are we going?" Alexei gallops next to me.

"We need to find another village", I tell him. "The easiest way to do so, I guess, will be by getting closer to the Kama River, there must be more villages there."

Fortunately, I do remember what direction to head in order to get closer to the river, and we have not ridden away but parallel to it.

"No, I mean after that", he says.

"I don't know. It is too early to be worrying about things like that. You need to recover before we even think about traveling any further. We need to find some loyal people willing to take care of us. After that, perhaps we can ask someone to help us sneak into the closest city that is occupied by the White Army. We will be safe there, at least for a while."

Alexei smiles. "Yes!" He exclaims enthusiastically. "And when we tell them everything the reds have done to us they'll ki…"

"Shut up! Shut up!" I yell at him, feeling flushed. Tears flood my eyes. "Don't ever mention anything that happened today ever again! To anyone! We will never tell anyone what they did! Never! Never! Never!" I start crying again.

Shocked by my outburst, Alexei doesn't press the matter further. I don't even want to speak to him right now.

He saw. I feel hollow inside. He will never see me the same way, and I don't want to think about it. I want to forget. I want to pretend I am oblivious. That everything is the same.

We head closer to the river and start to cool down the horses by letting them walk around slowly and relax. I get off my mare when she stops breathing fast and her skin is no longer hot and sweaty. Then I help Alexei get off his own horse, subsequently also helping him sit on the grass close to a tree to lean on.

The horses start feeding on the grass, and one of them wanders towards the river. I worry they may go too far, but they need to rest.

The sun has completely set at this point, so it is extremely dark. The only source of light we have is the reflection of the Waxing Gibbous moon on the water. I sit next to Alexei, wipe my tears, and sigh.

I hear another wolf howling and begin to grow scared. My whole body is sore from all the horse riding, and I can tell my brother feels even worse. He is rubbing both his legs and has been moaning for a while.

"What do we do now Olenka?" Alexei asks me.

"Wait, let me think", I say.

We could make a fire. Alexei learned how to, more less, I think it was at Stavka… but where will we get the firewood? And even if we succeed, what if the men are already looking for us and see the smoke?

Walking close by, my horse snorts and holds her head high. I feel something move near us and hear someone stepping on the grass. It is none of the horses.

I stand up slowly and take the revolver from the pocket of Alexeiʼs sweater. He looks at me with fear in his eyes as I head towards the trees from where I heard the sound, my mare walking beside me.

Suddenly, a man appears. I scream and jump, dropping the revolver in fear.

I take a better look at the man. He is a short peasant in his late forties with a long black beard, black boots, and a traditional kosovorotka shirt. Papa would wear similar clothes at home sometimes.

"Who are you, young lady?" The peasant asks, holding a lamp close to my face. I sigh. Even the horse seemed frightened by my short, high-pitched scream. How will I ever protect my brother like this? I pick up the gun. "You don't have to be afraid", the man continues. His voice is calm, but a chill still runs down my spine as I think of the worst possible outcomes. What is he doing in the middle of the woods? "What happened to your face?" He inquires.

"We don't have any money! We don't have anything!" I take several steps backwards, shaking my head and arms.

"Calm down!" He exclaims. "I just went out for a walk. My village is right over there", he points in the direction from which he came with his index finger, and I almost faint from relief when I see smoke in the distance. I cross myself.

My mother always said that peasants are the real Russians, loyal to the Tsar. Nothing like the revolutionaries from the cities. I hope she was right.

"My God!" I exclaim, bringing my hand to my chest. "Why didn't you say so before? I thought you were a bandit or something."

He seems offended by my assumption, but before I can apologize, I see my brother limping towards us. He probably heard the commotion.

"Sit down! Rest those legs", I scold him, pointing my finger at him. He slowly sits back down on the grass.

"I am sorry, I didn't mean to offend you", I say to the stranger. "I am the Grand Duchess Olga Nikolaevna Romanova. We have escaped imprisonment and have gone through horrible things. We are so scared right now. Please forgive us, but we need help, somewhere to stay, just for one night if you want."

I confess my identity without thinking, trusting my mother blindly regarding her faith in the goodwill of the average peasant. I am too afraid of spending the night outside in the woods to be suspicious of anyone.

"And that boy must be the heir, I imagine", he points at Alexei, who nervously follows the conversation.

"Yes", I answer. "Will you help us?"

"Do you honestly want me to believe you have no money?" He asks, and my heart skips a beat. I no longer know if we can trust this man, and I already gave him our identities.

"I swear!" I exclaim. "The reds took all of our money and jewels away!"

"What about that shiny thing?"

I stay silent for a while, startled and confused. Then I remember my motherʼs golden bracelet. I look at it and my heart sinks. My mother had an identical band, and she gifted each of her daughters a replica. My three sisters and I still have them because the Bolsheviks could not take them off our wrists.

"No, please!" I beg him. "It was given to me by my mother, I just lost her, and it doesn't come off, here, try it." I extend my right arm.

"All right, I believe you", he gently replies. "If you are alone and without money, you can spend the night at my house, my wife will be pleased to give you something to eat, and you can sleep in the granary."

"We would be very grateful", I thank him. "We can't give you anything, because, as I have said, we have no money, but we could come back someday and repay you."

"For me, that is enough", the man says. "My name is Pyotr, by the way."

I put the revolver back in Alexeiʼs pocket and help him get on his horse before mounting mine.

"Give me the reins", Pyotr says, and we both do. He guides our horses through the forest until we arrive at his village. I thank God when I see that it isn't the same one we left.

Pyotrʼs wife hears us approaching and comes out of the wooden house.

"I found this young man and woman alone in the woods", Pyotr tells her. "Give them something to eat." He helps Alexei dismount. "Go ahead and into the house", he says to me. "I will take care of the horses."

I was wrong about this man. He is nice.

Pyotrʼs wife and I carry Alexei into the house, a traditional Izba smaller than the one we left. Warm and cozy.

There is only one big living room with a similarly big stove, but no chimney. Opposite from the stove are icons, candles, and embroidered towels set on a table. A little girl of around twelve years of age sits on one of the chairs. She is working on some kind of embroidery.

The woman helps Alexei sit down at the table next to her daughter before she and I also sit.

"What happened to your face?" She asks, looking at me in a strange way.

"We have gone through a series of trials", I reply. She is probably more than capable of figuring out the nature of those trials by herself. "The people who did this may be looking for us right now", I add, hoping she and her husband will let us stay for more than one night. This would give Alexei time to recover.

My brother is rubbing his leg, frowning and moaning every now and then. He is clearly in pain again now that the excitement is over.

"I see", the woman says. She is in her late thirties, slim, dark-haired, and blue eyed. She later tells us her name is Uliana.

Uliana is a truly hospitable woman. She allows us to use the pit latrines outside and provides us with plenty of water to wash our hands. Once my brother and I have relieved ourselves, she offers us fish soup.

I can tell Alexei is uncomfortable with our humble lodgings and picky about the food, but fortunately, I don't have to force him to eat. He is also polite at all times.

This is a truly primitive part of the country, but most peasants still endure the same rudimentary lifestyle I had heard and read a lot about with interest before but never experienced firsthand.

Uliana explains that she and her family sleep on the floor or on the benches, the stove keeping them warm. They don't have any pillows. Sometimes they sleep on top of the stove when it gets particularly cold, which is fascinating.

Alexei is already talking to the little brunette girl, asking her what they do for fun in the village. I smile at him. Then I remember what he saw and my chest tightens. I wish I could know what he is thinking... I change my mind. I don't want to know.

"Is there anything else you need?" Uliana asks me. I put aside all of my dark thoughts.

"Yes please, is there any dress you can give me? This one is too big for me", I reply.

"I will see what I have", she says.

Uliana is as slim as I am, so the clothes she kindly offers me fit very well.

The new sarafan dress is blue, and so is the new ribbon keeping the knife close to my waist. It may seem immature, but considering the circumstances, blue is a color I prefer to red. Uliana also provides me with white linen garments to wear underneath and a headscarf the same color.

I change clothes while the little girl shows Alexei all of the things she has made with her own hands. I gift Ulina the clothes I was wearing in return, feeling slightly guilty about doing so due to the fact they really weren't mine.

I continue talking with Uliana about her life in the village as Alexei listens to us attentively.

Apparently, she has lost four children in infancy, and the little girl, also named Galina, is her only surviving child. I feel terrible for her and Pyotr, but I have read that the Izbasʼ unsanitary conditions and overcrowding are the cause of such high mortality rates. I tell Uliana about our escape from the reds and reveal our true identity, but I don't mention what happened earlier.

"I am going to take you to the granary", Pyotr announces upon returning.

This annoys me, but try to hide it. While the soreness in his legs hasn't allowed him any rest, poor Alexei was already trying to sleep on the floor near the stove, and I was so tired I wanted to do the same thing. I don't want to spend the night inside another cold and uncomfortable storehouse.

At the end of the day, however, we are guests here, so I ask Pyotr if he can carry my brother.

"He is going to take us to the granary", I tell Alexei. "Is it okay if he carries you?"

My brother nods, and surprisingly, he doesn't resist or even look scared when Pyotr picks him up. Mama also taught him that peasants are usually loyal. He must feel safe, although perhaps he is just tired and in pain.

Once Uliana has provided me with a lamp to illuminate our way, Pyotr and I walk out of the small house and towards the dark surrounding meadow.

"Take a look", Pyotr says as soon as we arrive at the granary, opening its door.

I lean forward. Almost instantly, Pyotr has the lamp. I feel his hand on my waist and he has taken the knife. When I turn around to complain, he roughly pushes me inside the granary. I fall on my back, almost hitting my head. I scream. Alexei screams. I feel naked again. Back in that room again. I can't think.

I am lying on a floor covered in straw, struggling to breathe. My brother is lying next to me. I don't know how he got there, but I pray he was laid down more gently. All I know is that Pyotr has stolen the revolver as well, for I can't feel it in my brotherʼs pocket.

The man walks out of the granary and shuts the door, and we find ourselves surrounded by darkness.

"What is happening?!" Alexei screams.

I wait for my rapid breathing to steady before standing up. I walk towards the door and try to open it, but I can't do so, not from the inside. We are locked up.

I panic. Will he turn us over? I feel Alexei move.

"Don't move, stay lying!" I yell. I start hitting the wooden walls, the door. I explore the entire granary, searching for a weak spot, searching on the floor for a way out. There is none, but I keep looking for one long after I realize that.

I cry out as loud as I can, for a long time. I don't bother to wipe my tears when I stop.

"Why did he do that Olenka?" Alexei asks.

"I don't know", I answer, feeling completely exhausted. I barely have a voice anymore. The fear disappears, completely. I feel numb.

Maybe this is just a misunderstanding.

"We can't get out", I state the obvious as I slowly sit on the floor. "We will be here until he lets us out, try to rest."

I keep praying in a low voice. I don't understand. Why would God let us escape only for this to happen?

Alexei starts moaning in pain. It must be the hemorrhage in his leg. He is also sneezing and coughing, having come from Ekaterinburg with a mild cold that every following experience must have worsened.

I lie next to him and hug him for the first time since the incident. He hugs me back tightly, with a strength I didn't think he was capable of before. His moans turn into whimpers.

"I am sorry", he cries. "I am sorry."

I kiss his head and stroke his hair in response. Nonstop. Over and over again. Just like mama used to. As if love itself could soothe his pain… and mine. For the first time ever, his presence comforts me as much as I am praying mine does.

"I am sorry", he repeats, and he kisses my cheek. My baby. I pray his pain passes quickly. I pray this is indeed just a misunderstanding. Please God, don't let them hurt us anymore.

I have to stay awake to keep soothing baby. He is crying out in pain now, making me cry for him as well. There is no one to help us. No doctor, no Tanya, no mama…

He is squeezing me so much. I kiss his temple, his cheeks, his nose and eyelids. He kisses my face back.

I have to stay awake, I have to. I don't want to relive what happened today either.