Trigger Warnings:
-Flashbacks/references to rape.
-Some period typical anti-Semitism from the main characters.
Olga Nikolaevna Romanova.
My brotherʼs leg still hurts, but I canʼt bear the thought of leaving him sitting alone for even a second, what if those people take him while I am away? No, I cannot let him out of my sight. I ask him to come with me to look for a place to stay, and he leans on the walls or sits on the sidewalks as I knock on the doors of each street.
My efforts have proven fruitless. The townspeople donʼt know us, and they are understandably apprehensive about having two strangers stay the night with their families, even if one of them is a cripple. I won't reveal our identities though. I am not going to make the same mistake ever again.
We come across small groups of red guards. I am inevitably turned into an anxious and blubbering mess every time that happens, but for some reason, despite my discernible terror as I walk away from them and drag my brother with me, they donʼt seem to notice anything different about us. Thank you, God.
The town is big enough for me to keep searching for a place to stay, but I am so exhausted I almost collapse on the ground next to Alexei.
There are dozens of homeless people around us. Some of them are falling asleep on the same sidewalk we are sitting on. I start crying out of fear and nervousness. I am not prepared to be homeless and live out of the pity people have for my sick brother, who is again rubbing his bad leg.
"I donʼt like it when you cry Olenka", Alyosha wipes away one of my tears.
My baby brother has been moaning in pain for hours and yet he is the one trying to console me. That endearing fact only makes me feel all the more miserable. I continue weeping as Alexei resumes his attempts to soothe me, caressing my cheeks with words of encouragement.
The sun is starting to set, but at least there are streetlamps, so we will not be completely in the dark.
"Why donʼt we ask for more money to pay for an inn?" He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
"I don't want you to keep begging", I wipe my tears, knowing too well I may have to allow him to do it again tomorrow. "And I don't think we could collect enough money begging to pay for a room." I may even have to swallow my pride and start begging as well in the future.
"Well, how else can we get money?" He asks. "Do you think it would be a good idea to sell my boots? Remember, the bandit said we could get money with them."
"Not at all, you need them", I state. "I really don't know how else to get money, maybe I could get a job and ask our employer for a place to stay. There are lots of small factories in this town."
"We can work."
"I will do the work", I correct him. "You have to rest. Let us go before everything closes."
We stand up and walk. He uses his crutches.
"But once I get better, I can work, right?" He asks.
"Sure, you will!" I mess with his hair.
I am not so sure about the idea. How are we going to get a job so soon and at this hour? But I can't give up. I do not want us to sleep on a porch again. At least I can try.
Oo
I start asking every owner of every shop I encounter if they have jobs available. I have no luck. I ask all of them to provide us with a roof in exchange for free labor. Most of them assure me there are other places we can go to for that kind of arrangement, but no one tells me where.
My brother and I come across an ironworks building. I can feel immense heat coming from inside the edifice. It is mostly men working with the iron rolling mill, but I also see a woman. I tell Alexei to wait outside before entering the facility.
One of the workers approaches me. I panic and step back, trembling. He is just walking so very fast towards me.
"What is it?" He asks me in a harsh manner. It is clear that he thinks I am not supposed to be there.
"Can I talk to the supervisor?" I ask.
"I am the supervisor", he looks as if it gave him the most pleasure in the world to reveal that.
"I would like to work here for a few days", I keep my head low, hoping to appear meek and maybe inspire some pity. "I don't need any money, just a place to stay for me and my sick brother."
"What in Godʼs name would you be useful for?"
"I can do any manual labor, just tell me what", I say.
"Show me your hands", he orders, and I do so.
"You wonʼt be useful", the man asserts condescendingly. "I am sorry."
"Why not?" I ask, losing my patience.
"All right, I will show you", he grabs my arm and I almost faint from the fright, but the man simply leads me to the woman, who is taller and larger than the average female. Her hair is covered by a headscarf similar to mine, and she is wearing a black skirt. "Show her your hands", he says to her. The female worker does as she is told and extends her hands.
"Touch them", the man tells me, and I do. They are rough and filled with burn scars. "Maria has worked here since she was fifteen", the man continues. "She is used to this. You wouldnʼt last here for a week."
He has a point, but that does not mean I canʼt adapt. She did. They all did, didn't they?
"How do you know? You havenʼt even let me try yet!" I protest, and this makes all of the workers who were listening to the conversation start laughing for some reason.
I walk away slowly, bursting into tears without fully knowing why. For a moment, the fact that I was looking for a job was not the real reason they were laughing at me.
It was something far more sinister. I was completely helpless again.
Probably blushing out of anger, I glare back at the man before stepping out of the building. "Thank you for your kindness", I curtsey mockingly, not caring anymore if doing so makes them suspicious. I tried to sound sarcastic, but the tears in my eyes and the lump in my throat made the sentence come out rather pathetic.
Alexei looks at me with concern when I return. He has seen my tears.
"They didnʼt give you the job?" He asks.
"No", I shake my head. "Letʼs go."
I wipe my tears, and we keep walking.
Oo
"There are other jobs", I say after a while, smiling at my worried brother. "Maybe I can work as a servant."
I go from door to door to the biggest houses to see if anyone will take us in. No one does. My brother starts complaining about the pain in his leg. Only then do I dare admit to myself that we are sleeping outside.
While sitting on the porch we may spend the night in, I notice a young girl standing on the corner of the street. She is about the same age as Alexei, possibly a bit older, and she is smiling at us, looking quite friendly. I walk towards her.
"Hi", I say shyly. "My brother and I are new in town, do you know what the fastest way to make money is around here?"
"You need money?" The girl asks.
"Yes", I reply. "I am willing to work really hard."
"I know someone who can help you!" She exclaims.
"Really? Where?" I am relieved by this.
"Follow me!" The young girl turns around and starts running.
"Wait!" I yell. I have to constantly remind her to slow down. My brother canʼt walk as fast.
To my great dismay, upon arriving at the building where the girl apparently works, I find lots of different women wearing various indecent items of clothing standing right outside. Some of them are talking with a group of men. Some are entering the building with said men. Some are leaving with them. Many of the couples are kissing.
Now I understand that the girl wasnʼt smiling at me but at Alexei. It was too good to be true.
"I bet this is a brothel", Alyosha says, and I almost faint. I open my good eye wide and stare at him in shock.
"You donʼt even know what a brothel is", I try not to sound excessively worried.
"Yes, I do", he insists, seemingly proud of himself for this grown-up knowledge. "It is like a house, where women who don't have any money go live and work together, and then men go visit them with their friends to look for someone to marry. They also kiss, look!" He points at one of the couples. They may be kissing in a way that is definitely not appropriate in public, but I still sigh in relief.
"Yes, you are right", I lie.
"Letʼs go in then!" He exclaims.
"No darling, I canʼt work there", I tell him. Then I approach the girl who guided us and tap her shoulder.
"I am sorry dear, but I canʼt work here", I inform her.
"It is alright", the girl looks disappointed nonetheless. "Good luck." She runs into the building.
I feel so sorry for that child. She is younger than my seventeen-year-old baby sister, but there is sadly nothing I can do for her at the moment. If I were still a Grand Duchess, I might have asked my mother to find her work as a servant somewhere or patronize her education in a girlsʼ school. I mourn the loss of my title for the first time since the revolution. At least it allowed me to do something, however small, whenever I saw injustice in the world. I hope, at the very least, that none of her clients are as beastly as Tabakov.
"Why can't you work there?" Alexei asks me. "Oleg said something about the women being nice. He said they were just unlucky, like us. They can probably help us, is it because you donʼt want to kiss anyone?"
"The women that live there do bad things, I am not working there", I declare firmly and without further details. His comparison disturbs me precisely because there may be some truth to it.
My brother stays silent for a few seconds, looking as if he were mulling over what I said. "Maybe you could tell the girls that you donʼt want to be kissed", he suggests.
"Let's go find another porch", I change the subject. He pouts when he realizes we are sleeping outside again after all, but he doesn't complain out loud.
Oo
We wander through the city aimlessly for a few minutes. The sun has now fully set, and I see fewer and fewer people around as time passes, which is scary, but I don't want to sleep on the first porch I find. I want to make sure it is at least clean first.
My brother is groaning and complaining so much that he is driving me crazy. The pain has only increased by the minute and little is left of his temporarily pleasant mood earlier. He is close to throwing a tantrum, and I canʼt say I blame him.
By the time we finally find a clean porch to sleep, it becomes clear that he is having another attack. I lie down next to him and prepare myself not to sleep.
Oo
July 23th, 1918.
I tried to stay awake to comfort Alyosha as he cried out in pain, but I failed. I wake up to see his dear face bathed in tears.
Alyosha hasn't slept, and he is still moaning and coughing. I can't take him with me to search for a job today. I will have to try my luck and leave him lying here. Please God, send someone to help us.
I keep exploring the town, going from door to door looking for a job without any luck. A man makes me an indecent proposal. I run away from his porch bursting into sobs. A woman refuses to take Alexei in after learning that he can't work. People complain about having too many mouths to feed already. Damn this! I have fasted enough times before to be more than capable of handling the lack of food, but Alexei needs strength to heal!
Having no other choice, I end up making my baby brother beg for what will probably be our only meal of the day like I promised myself I never would. I pray that the people passing by are not as heartless as to ignore him now that his face is contorted in a grimace of pain and he can barely hold back his sobs as he extends his trembling hand.
Alexei sits and begs on the corner of each street we visit as I keep looking for a job, but despite his pitiful tears, coughs, and moans, he gathers just enough money for one soup. I eat and force him to do the same, what more can I do?
Oo
July 24th, 1918.
The feast of Saint Olga of Kiev and my name day. I hope God has something good planned for us.
My brother and I wake up lying on another porch. He didn't sleep well today either, poor boy.
We do find hope and peace for a few hours. Alexei and I confess our sins and have obednya inside an actual church for the first time in months. For this alone we may be luckier than our sisters. The priest blesses us and a miracle occurs. Alexei's pain diminishes for a while and his mood becomes relatively cheerful after taking communion. I take this as a sign that God is looking after us. I have already prayed for Olga of Kiev to intercede before us, so everything will be alright one way or another.
The relief is temporary though. Only a few hours go by before Alyosha is crying out in pain again, and his coughing has only gotten worse. We have no luck finding a place to stay, but Alexei earns enough money begging to buy another soup for us to share.
We keep walking, it becomes dark, and soon we find ourselves surrounded by Jews. I recognize them by their black clothes and hats.
"Are we really going to work for the Jews?" Alexei frowns as he asks that, sounding both fearful and curious. I know the Jews are not trustworthy, and that they are more likely to be revolutionaries. If any of them recognize us, we may be in serious trouble.
"Why not?" I reply. "We are in no position to be picky right now." Alexei shrugs.
I do feel some apprehension, but we have already walked through most parts of the town.
We arrive at a jewelry store. The Jewish man is about to close. He is a redhead with a big glowing beard and looks around 50 years old.
"Good night", he greets me and my brother when he sees us approaching. "Do you want to buy or sell anything?"
"No, no", I answer. "We donʼt have anything to sell or want to buy anything."
"How can I help you then?" He asks, observing us carefully. He is probably wondering what happened to my face but is too polite to ask.
"Would you accept me as a servant?" I blurt out without further introduction.
"A Christian? Of course not!" He is startled, as if the idea itself were bizarre.
"Why not?" I ask, beginning to feel discouraged.
"I don't think it would work out, my family and friends would object", he explains. "It was also illegal for many years, you know? It can be dangerous for us as well, so we are not accustomed nor comfortable with it."
His rejection offends me more than that of any of the other store and factory owners. I donʼt like the way this man dismissed me on the basis of my faith as if it were something undesirable… but then again, who am I to complain about that? Perhaps this is the way Jews felt whenever they were rejected from universities due to quotas or were not allowed to live in certain regions of the country. I never really gave any of that a second thought before... and, illegal?
"Why was it illegal?" I inquire.
"Christians made it so", he replies. "You tell me."
"I am tired! It is not fair!" My brother exclaims in frustration. "Papa should have changed that stupid law!"
My heart skips a beat and my good eye grows big. The man studies us carefully. Alyosha is definitely getting scolded for that slip if we make it out of this town alive.
"Well, I guess I better find a Christian to take me in as a servant", I lower my head, not knowing what else to say. "Thanks anyway."
I turn around and grab my brother by the collar of his jacket. We are leaving as fast as we can.
"It is worth a try", the jeweler agrees. "Although, if you allow me to be frank, I donʼt think anyone in their right mind would employ you as a servant."
I stupidly look back at the man for some reason. Why? Did his words offend me? Is the urge to be polite that has been instilled in me from birth more powerful than my sense of self-preservation? Am I simply curious about what he has to say?
"It is easy for someone who has been hiring people for years to see that you are used to giving orders", he continues. "It would be very hard for you to receive them after having been groomed since childhood to either marry a head of state or become one."
Paralyzed by fear, I look down at my brother, who has the same frightened expression on his face. Then I open my mouth, willing to beg this man on my knees not to turn us over, but the redhead raises his palm and keeps talking before I am able to.
"Yes, I know you are both humble, have a good attitude, don't think yourselves superior to those who serve, and are willing to work just like anyone else to make a living", his voice is soft and friendly. "But you have been served your entire lives. You were told there was a special, untouchable place for you in the world. That way of thinking doesn't easily go away. On the contrary, it can endure and grow stronger through hardships. Even now, talking to me, from the bottom of your hearts, you are convinced that things should fix themselves, that the ways of the world should change on their own, all to grant you satisfaction. I suspect you seldom think instead of ways to change, improve, or act to accomplish whatever it is that you seek. People from high class are bad at serving. They are disobedient, resentful, unreflective, ambitious, entitled, and susceptible. They miss the comforts they feel they rightfully deserve and are supposedly destined to get back someday owing to the way they were born and raised. They always believe they are working hard when at times there is nothing further from the truth, and they create difficulties with the other servants due to their unacknowledged obsession with being the best at what they do." The man shrugs. "But that is just my experience hiring those kinds of people", he adds.
I almost forget why I was afraid. He simply lectured us as if we were his children, and in a kind way as well. He is perhaps kinder than any of the people we have encountered since we arrived at Kambarka. Only the priest we met today at church and the woman who gave me the three kopeks so I could buy a second soup were as kind.
My brother seems fascinated. No trace of fear is left in his eyes.
Peter the Great used to call Jews rogues and cheats, and yet it was not one of them who tried to sell us back to the reds. I feel like a little girl again, around the time Alexei was born. The Russo-Japanese War was raging on. I had heard stories about our sailors being drowned and was very upset, so I told my nanny that I hoped all of the Japanese would be slain by our soldiers. Miss Eagar kindly explained to me that there were lots of innocent women and children in Japan who didnʼt know how to fight. Only after learning that the Japanese had many things in common with us and even an emperor like my father did I understand that they were people just like us.
I do not think this man is going to turn us over, even if he is a Jew and did recognize us. But still, almost none of what he said is helpful, and to be honest... what does he know? We haven't told him everything we have been through. I tried to find a job, I tried! It is hard!
"But what do you recommend us to do?" I ask, but then, feeling a bit self-conscious about sounding entitled, I add: "If you don't mind advising us."
"I can only tell you what I would do in your situation", he says. "Look for something to sell. When I got to this town, I started buying jewels from people who needed money, then I started selling them at a slightly higher price. After that, I hired craftsmen to work repairing watches, jewelry, and pretty much any object people brought to fix. When I started making more money, I hired people to make the jewelry."
"But where did you get the money to buy the jewelry?" Alexei asks.
"I asked my uncle for a loan", the man answers. "The interests weren't high because we were family."
"But we donʼt know anyone around here who would give us a loan", I protest. He puts his index finger on his chin and starts thinking.
"Mm…let's see", he begins. "What would I have done if I didn't have an uncle? Well, I think I would have gone to the forest and searched for edible berries, then I would have sold them to people passing by or street vendors who have no time to search for berries."
"But that takes a lot of time and it is getting late", I point out.
"You young people are always so impatient", he scolds us. "Wait a while."
"All right", I say, smiling, but a little bit disappointed. "Thank you for the advice."
"And what if there are no berries in the woods?" Alexei inquires again.
"Well, there is always something you can find", the man starts. "There are rabbits…"
"Let's go Alyosha", I shake my head at my brother and chuckle. It is getting late, but Alexei stays to listen to the man for a few more minutes as he explains how well rabbits can sell and where they can be found.
"Good luck", the red-haired man finishes with a grin as he hands my little brother a few kopeks. I smile.
"Thank you sir", Alexei beams as he expresses his gratitude.
"Thank you very much indeed!" I raise my hand to wave goodbye to him, and then we move along.
He is one of the good ones, as mama used to call decent Jews. It is probably because he believes in God. Our friend Grigori used to say that all faiths come from Him. I guess it is mainly the godless we should be wary of, although they are harder to spot.
When we lose sight of the small shop, I start regretting the fact I didnʼt ask for the manʼs name. I am making a list in my mind of all the people who have helped us so that I can come back someday and reward them. I wanted him to be there. I will never forget his face though, or his glowing beard, so maybe there is still hope for him.
"Are we going to the forest for berries?" Alexei seems adorably excited by the prospect despite the discomfort on his legs.
"No", I smile at him as I shake my head again. "Yes… well, it is unlikely, but maybe, I donʼt know, we may have to in the future."
I ask Alexei to hand me the kopeks so that I can count them. Having done so, I take a deep breath and sigh, slightly disappointed. We may have one or two meals secured tomorrow without trouble, but I donʼt think we have enough money for even one night at an inn.
I may not have much experience holding real money in my hands or doing the actual buying in shops, but that doesn't mean I am completely ignorant about the concept. My siblings and I received allowances, mainly for gifts, and mama would advise us on how to spend them wisely.
I think it would be more prudent to save the coins for an emergency or lay all the money aside so that we can travel on a ship once we have enough gathered. I tell this to Alexei, who agrees with me.
We have to start looking for yet another good-looking porch to sleep.
Oo
We have walked just a couple of blocks away from the jewelry when we encounter the three men I had seen before staring at us. This time, the woman isnʼt with them.
"It is the people from the cafeteria!" My brother exclaims just as the man with the brown beard points his index finger at us.
"Let us go the other way", I tell Alyosha, and we walk through the empty street in the opposite direction from which they came from.
I know it is useless. My brother is using crutches. They are going to catch us sooner or later.
"Do you want me to point the gun at them?!" My brother panics.
Alexei could indeed point the revolver at them, but the idea scares me, what if they are armed as well and only use his actions as an excuse to shoot us? They are dressed as civilians, but that is irrelevant. They could very well have something hidden. I shake my head at my brother, and we keep walking. He seems relieved.
"Wait, girl!" One of the men yells from behind. "We are not going to hurt you! We are friends! We will help you!"
Right. If I wanted to kill someone, that is exactly what I would say. We keep walking.
"We will help you! We have morphine!" A different voice yells. My brother turns his head around and slows down slightly.
"What are you doing? Keep walking!" I scold him. I know he must be in a lot of pain to consider lowering his guard just because someone offered him morphine, but we have no reason to trust them.
"We were sent to look for you!" One of the men exclaims in English, and I finally stop walking. Alexei sighs in relief as he does the same.
"We come all the way from Ekaterinburg," the man has a British accent, and he is walking closer and closer towards us. "There were thousands of different rumors about your present whereabouts, which is why there are dozens of people like us searching for you."
I turn around, and my brother follows my lead.
The man talking is in his thirties. He has green eyes and light brown hair. His mustache is similar to the one papa had, but he has no beard. Behind him are the other two men. I recognize one of them. He is the man with the brown beard who was analyzing me the most in the cafeteria.
"We are not going to hurt you", the British man whispers in English once he gets close to me. "My name is Charles Lamb. I am one of the British intelligence officers tasked with looking for the imperial family after they went missing from Ekaterinburg two days ago."
I am so scared. What if this is a trick? What if he is not on our side anyway? What if he is some sort of English mercenary who works for no one and plans to ransom us? What if we can't trust him?
My eyes fill with tears out of pure sheer terror. The uncertainty is tormenting. If I trust him, he could betray us like the horrid muzhik and the diabolical woman who made me wash all of those clothes did. If I do not trust him, we may end up homeless for months. What decision could get us into more trouble?
"We have heard rumors that the Tsar is dead", his tone is soft, as if he were trying not to scare us. "Is that true?"
I canʼt think of anything now that he has reminded me of my papa. I start crying and nodding at the same time.
"It has been horrible!" I finally sob. My brother, seeing me cry, starts weeping as well. The Englishman tries to grab my shoulders in a sloppy attempt to comfort me, but I step back.
"Where are the other Grand Duchesses?" The man with the brown beard asks me in Russian. He has kind, wrinkled blue eyes, and his light brown beard already has several white hairs. He must be in his late fifties.
"They stayed in Perm", I cry. "They wanted to take my brother alone to Moscow, but I came with him."
"We escaped because they started mistreating us", Alexei continues, and I worry about what he may tell the men, but he only shows them his bandaged ear, which is now covered in red spots. "They cut me, look, and they beat my sister really bad, and they also killed papa and mama, and our doctor and servants."
I am relieved by his discretion.
"The reds did this to you?" The bearded man asks. My brother and I nod.
"They killed papa right in front of us", Alexeiʼs voice breaks.
"Animals!" The man roars, expressing his anger by swinging his hands and arms around, which startles me. "Scum of the earth!"
I take two steps back and cling to my brother.
"Forgive me Your Imperial Highnesses", the man says as soon as he sees how frightened I am. I am surprised to hear him use our titles, but he may be doing that to make us keep our guards down. "Where are my manners? I am Sergei Volyaovich Volkov, your most humble servant", he introduces himself with a bow. "I worked for years in the Okhrana after fighting in the Russo-Japanese war. Now I work for Charles, and I assure Your Highnesses that he has only your best interests at heart."
"And I am Valeriy Stephanovich Kirilov", the third man is also polite, but he doesnʼt bow. "I am a doctor myself and would like to treat your wounds. My wife is a nurse, she can also help." He is the youngest of the three and has brown hair and eyes.
"You must have gone through countless horrors", Charles speaks again, this time in a heavily accented Russian. "Please, accompany us to the inn we are staying at so that in the morning we can come up with a solution to your present situation."
"Oh, thank God!" I sob, finally allowing myself to feel at ease for a moment, even if I donʼt completely trust these men yet. "You have no idea of how much we have prayed for help! Thank you, gentlemen! Thank you!"
What are the chances they would actually find us? This is God taking care of us. Saint Olga heard my prayers.
Oo
They seem so sweet. Sergei offers to carry Alexei, who shakes his head and keeps walking with the crutches, scared. My exhausted brother has been very apprehensive following the incident with that horrid man who betrayed us, but the way Sergei continues to call him by his title slowly reassures him enough to accept being carried after a while. I take his crutches and hold his hand the entire time.
"I didnʼt recognize you at first, Your Imperial Highness", Sergei tells me as we walk towards the inn.
"You didnʼt?" I ask.
"I only recognized the heir", he explains. "That is the reason I was staring at Your Imperial Highness like that in the cafeteria, my sincerest apologies."
"There is nothing to be sorry for, Sergei, and please call me and my brother by our names and patronymics", I say.
It is understandable that he didnʼt recognize me. My face must be so swollen. I havenʼt seen it yet though…
"Your Imperial Highness?" Sergei speaks again.
"Yes, Sergei?"
"Oh, I am deeply sorry. This is truly embarrassing, but… oh please do forgive me! Here it is… I suspected since I saw Your Imperial Highness with the heir at that cafeteria that Your Imperial Highness was most likely a Grand Duchess, but… I still don't know which one of the four…"
I chuckle at the awkwardness of the situation.
"I am Olga", I introduce myself with a smile, secretly feeling slightly disturbed, but not because of Sergei. Does my face really look that bad? I knew it was unrecognizable... but even for someone who knew I was a Grand Duchess?
"Oh!" Sergei exclaims. "It is a huge relief to know!"
Sergei, Charles, and Valeriy ask us all about our journey. I tell them as much as I can, leaving the shameful parts out of it.
"It is amazing that you managed to get to Kambarka!" Sergei comments. "It is very far away from Perm!"
Our new acquaintances occupy two rooms of the inn. Sergei and Charles make use of one of the chambers, while Valeriy and his wife sleep in the room next door. Charles books another room with two beds for me and my brother as soon as we get to the reception. He also orders dinner for us.
When our room is ready, Valeriyʼs wife, named Anastasia Kirilova, helps Valeriy clean up my brotherʼs ear wound and give it a few stitches. She also gives me some ice to place on my swollen eye as they treat my brother. Alexei behaves very well and does not complain at all. He tries not to cry and almost succeeds as well, poor thing. Once they are done with the stitches, Valeriy and Anastasia bandage Alyoshaʼs ear again.
When Valeriy leaves, Anastasia allows me to borrow some of her clothes. A sleeping gown for tonight and regular clothes for tomorrow.
She also begs me to let her check if I have any other serious injuries. I thank her for her kindness but refuse to cooperate.
I donʼt fear nor mistrust Anastasia for evident reasons. She is a woman. But I really donʼt want anyone poking around and examining with interest everything they have done to me.
Oo
I help Alexei take a bath. Poor thing was terrified because for an instant he thought I would allow Anastasia to assist me.
His legs and arms look terrible. Swollen and unnaturally colored. He can barely move them, let alone have them washed without yelping in pain. I am worried sick for him.
Having helped Alexei dress and then lie down comfortably on one of the beds, I am finally able to take the long shower I did not realize I needed until my entire body was wet and covered in soap.
I start washing every part of my body with relief. Now I can finally get the feeling of those hands out of my body. I will erase all traces of that day. I will remove them, make them go away, make everything go away...
It is cathartic at first, until I touch a bruise for the first time. Cleaning everything properly will be painful. I have big, blue and purple bruises spreading through my inner and outer thighs. Dozens of bruises on my arms, waist, and hips, some of which, to my great disgust, look like fingers. The biggest one is still on my chest, where I was shot. It hurts now more than ever. That devil beat me there over and over again with the handle of his revolver. I cry out at the memory. I feel as if it were happening right now.
The bruises are all over my body, in places I would be too embarrassed to mention, in places I can't even reach. Now I know how Alexei must feel essentially every day. They are not always dangerous, but he regularly has to deal with a painful bruise or two somewhere.
I reach down there with my soapy hands… and it is so painful. So painful. I donʼt know whether the pain is caused by injuries or by the haunting memories.
Both, I decide. It is both. The physical pain is very real, and I remember how it felt so clearly that I burst into sobs.
The more time I spend in the shower, the more I come to realize it wonʼt work. I will never get the feeling of those hands out of my body. I will never erase the traces of that day. Not until the bruises and injuries heal… maybe not ever. I start scrubbing myself frantically at the thought. It is painful, but not as painful as the bruises and the memories of that day. This is worse than any nightmare I have had.
I scrub my skin raw, so hard that even the unbruised parts become pink and painful to the touch. By the time I realize I am hurting myself, the harm has already been done.
I don't feel cleaner. I come out of the shower feeling more worthless and spoiled than ever, only to cry out in horror as soon as I look at my face in the bathroom mirror. For the first time since the incident, I have been given time and space to genuinely think about what happened to me without rush or fear of death.
Now I have seen my face. I have seen the marks that prove it, the marks those men left in my arms, legs, torso, neck… they touched and touched with a lustful need to possess and hurt every inch of my body. To hurt me. I have felt the pain those marks left.
It happened. I stay inside the bathroom to cry and wash my face, almost hoping that if I bawl my eyes out just enough, my aspect will be back to normal by the time I look in the mirror again.
It happened. First I just weep, then I sob. The pain that this obvious realization causes me is unbelievable.
It happened. My life itself doesnʼt even make sense anymore, but I know there is someone out there who wonʼt care about that, not for now. Someone who needs me. I canʼt stay here forever. Grudgingly, I start using the towel to dry.
I put on the clothes and brush my wet hair. Then I wash my face again and try to compose myself before stepping out of the bathroom.
Oo
"Would you allow me to give your brother a morphine injection?" Anastasia is examining one of Alexeiʼs legs. "A very small dose, of course, he was just telling me that this leg, especially the knee, is causing him a lot of pain."
I can see that the food has arrived. The tray is on the table in front of the beds.
"Are you all right Olenka?" My brother sounds worried. He has probably noticed my red eyes. I nod at him and smile for his sake.
"Yes Anastasia, thank you", I sit next to her on the bed Alexei is lying on. "But a very small dose to help him sleep tonight. I don't want him growing too dependent."
"You know", Kirilova whispers in my ear as she takes out the syringe from her nursing bag, "you are not the first woman I have met in your… situation. If you get into more trouble as a result, I can help you."
"What… what do you mean?" I ask, feeling exposed. I know that any rational adult is capable of deducing the full extent of what happened to me, but I donʼt appreciate being reminded of this.
"You know…" Anastasia repeats, "get rid of it." I open my eye in realization. No, I could never do that.
"No, no, thank you", I answer. "It is too early to tell anyway."
"That is all right", she says. "But if you change your mind early enough, I can help you." I nod, but I would never change my mind.
"Get rid of what?" Alexei asks as Kirilova injects his leg.
"Nothing, darling", I tell him. My brother frowns at me, but he doesn't say anything.
"I am going to tell the men to come back so that we can discuss where to go tomorrow", Anastasia stands up, throws the used needle into the bathroomʼs trashcan, puts all of the things she used back in her big red bag, and leaves the room.
"What do you think sunbeam?" I ask my brother. "Where do you think we should go now?"
"To the Crimea!" He gushes, and I smile at him. I knew he would say that.
We haven't been there in a long time. My family and I would spend most of our leisure time in Crimea, and there is still no other place in the world I love more. The clear blue skies, the mountains, the flowers, the beach…
We had a palace there, Livadia. "In St. Petersburg, we work, but at Livadia, we live", I used to say.
Our closest relatives are in Crimea now. Our grandmother the Dowager Empress, our aunts, and cousins. There is only one problem.
"The Germans have Crimea at the moment", I remind my brother. "Remember what mama said once, after all the Germans had done she preferred to die in Russia rather than be saved by the Germans."
"Oh, right", Alyosha remembers, lowering his head. We are both too proud to be protected by the enemy.
"The other option is England, I suppose", I tell him, and his expression becomes thoughtful. "But I think these men are planning to take us east first, to Vladivostok."
"Mama did say that, but didn't papa also say that it was our duty to stay in Russia if we could?" He asks.
"Yes darling, but you have already seen how hard it is to find people to trust. Most people aren't loyal anymore, they have their own ideas about who should rule Russia and some are willing to kill us over it."
"Yes, I know!" Alexei exclaims, sounding annoyed that I am explaining to him something he probably considers obvious after everything we have gone through. "What I mean is, why go to England when we have somewhere safe to be with our family here in Russia? I know the Germans have the Crimea, but refusing to go there because the Germans have it is like conceding it is theirs now forever, and we canʼt lose hope, right? Our allies will win the war for us and we will get Crimea back."
"Alyosha", I try not to sound condescending, "if we go to the Crimea, we will be protected by Russia's enemies. It is not the honorable thing to do, you know that better than anyone, and Charles is a British intelligence officer, so taking us there would put him in danger."
My brother lays the tip of his index finger on his chin and thinks about what I said for a few seconds before answering:
"We don't need Charles to take us all the way, only close enough, didnʼt we travel to this town all on our own? We can do it. We don't need protection from the Russian people by the Germans Olya, only some of them have been bad to us. We can hide who we are for precaution, but the Russian people are good. Sergei and Valeriy are helping us. What about Uliana and the second family of peasants? The man who took us to Kambarka was also really nice, as was the woman who helped us buy the soup, and the guy with the red beard."
He is good at arguing, I give him that. When an idea gets into his head, it is hard to dissuade him. Papa was the only one who could convince him to do anything without having to win an impromptu debate first.
"It is not about whether we need the Germansʼ protection or not, Alyosha", I contend. "They think for a good reason that we do, and they are going to provide it. You know better than anyone that papa wouldn't have wanted us to receive help from the enemy."
"What about Olga and Xenia?" He asks. "What about Babushka? What about the locals of the Crimea?"
"What about them?"
"They are also living under German protection."
"But they didnʼt choose that, Alyosha, the Germans simply arrived."
"Well, I donʼt choose them either", he proclaims with great dignity. "I donʼt want them in the Crimea, but that is where they are right now, which is not going to stop me from joining our family in our homeland. I donʼt choose the Germans Olya, I choose Crimea. Besides, we always get help from the enemy if you really think about it. When our soldiers take an enemy machine gun, we use it, and that doesnʼt mean we side with the enemy. I think papa would understand as long as we donʼt help them back… perhaps we could work and live in a place where there are few Germans soldiers around and then visit our family often!"
I remain silent as I take into account everything he has said, also wondering what other options these men may have for us. I do miss my relatives, especially Aunt Olga. Crimea is the only place we could go where we would truly feel safe and at home, at least as much as we may be able to without Tatiana, Maria, and Anastasia.
"You know what?" I concede after a minute. "You may be right Alyosha, but we need to convince Charles and the others."
"Canʼt we eat first?" He pouts, and I realize I am quite hungry after having eaten only a full soup in two days.
"Yes", I immediately reply as I pinch his good cheek. "Of course we can."
Oo
I never thought the discussion would turn into an ugly and scary argument. Scary for me in particular. Charles and Sergei are both standing in front of my brotherʼs bed, where I am sitting. Valeriy and his wife have already gone back to their room, making this all the more frightening.
I try to sound assertive and forget about how humiliated the ironworkers made me feel a couple of days ago, but this is hard at times.
"My brother and I want to go to the Crimea", I repeat for the third time.
"Your Imperial Highness", Sergeiʼs politeness does little to appease my most likely irrational fears, "Charles has orders to take you to Vladivostok, to the British Consulate, and from there take you to a place of greater safety."
"We want to be with our relatives, not stay in the hands of strangers for weeks", I state. "We have been apart from our family members for far too long, and if we canʼt be with our sisters, we want to meet with our grandmother, aunts, and cousins at the very least. Have a heart and understand our situation!"
"I was ordered to produce a report on the imperial familyʼs whereabouts, Sergei", Charles interjects. "And I already have a source of information good enough to complete my mission." He turns to me. "Sergei, Valeriy, and Anastasia will take you and your brother to Crimea. Sergei will protect both of you with his life. He is well-armed, as are you, I can see."
Charles stares at the revolver, the knife, and the coins lying on the nightstand between our beds. I curse my own carelessness. I removed the gun from Alexeiʼs pocket before bathing him and did the same with my knife and the money when I showered. I had completely forgotten.
The men have, so far, not taken advantage of our carelessness to steal any of our weapons though, which means they probably are trustworthy. I thank God.
"Thank you so much!" I exclaim. Sergei tries to protest, but Charles speaks before he is able to:
"I am doing this as a personal favor, as I didn't receive any specific instructions on what to do if I actually found any of you free from captivity, which was completely unexpected. I also understand you have suffered enormously and donʼt want to be around strangers any longer, but if I had received orders preparing me for this situation, I am afraid I would have had to follow said orders."
I feel suspicious of Sergei, why did he claim Charles had orders he didnʼt in fact have?
"I understand", I say, "and we are incredibly grateful still."
"You will have to tell me in full detail everything and anything you remember about the location where your three sisters are being kept though", Charles continues. "Right now, I only know the city."
"Sure", I nod. "I remember most of our trip from the house to the port where we took the steamer. I also remember the way from the train station."
"I am not joking, your sistersʼ lives could depend on it", his tone is sterner this time.
"What?!" My brother exclaims.
"What do you mean?" I ask, incredibly worried.
"You are already aware that the Bolsheviks are no strangers to executing people without trial. If something like this were about to occur to your sisters, knowing their location to keep track of their situation could help us prevent a tragedy", Charles says.
"But, but why did they spare us if they were going to kill us later anyway?" I hold back tears. "They said they were exchanging us for prisoners abroad!"
I already suspected it was only temporary, I had even made my peace with it, but now that I have a good chance of surviving, the thought of my sisters being murdered becomes again unbearable to contemplate, as if hope for your own life were also a curse, making the possible loss of your loved ones much more painful.
"Basing my deduction on the current situation of your country, what you have told us about the sloppy way they decided to execute your father right in front of you, and reports we have gathered describing the execution practices of the Bolsheviks, I suspect they spared you and your sisters on a whim, mainly to appease the Germans until the end of the war", Charles explains. "They might as well not have spared you. In fact, the advantages of doing so are quite limited, if they exist at all. You are incredibly lucky, both to be alive right now and to have found me. My superiors are precisely at Perm."
"So you are going to help them, right?" My brotherʼs lip is trembling, his eyes are welling up with tears, and his voice breaks saying the last word.
"I will do my best to convince my fellow officers to launch a rescue attempt as soon as humanely possible, which is why I am departing early in the morning and leaving you with my employees", Charles replies.
"But for the rescue attempt to succeed, we are going to need accurate information", Sergei continues. He has seemingly accepted his orders.
For a moment, I wish I could return to Perm in order to tell them exactly where my sisters are. To make sure they are indeed helped and that this is not just an empty promise. I canʼt do that though, I can't let my brother travel to Crimea alone. I need to trust Charles.
"I will tell you everything", I wipe my tears, praying to God that Tabakovʼs insults werenʼt enough of a distraction to make me overlook any important details regarding the Blue Houseʼs location.
Charles pulls out a large piece of paper from his suitcase, as well as many colored pencils. He and I sit on two chairs, one at each side of the small wooden coffee table in front of the beds.
He maps my sistersʼ location based on the descriptions I give him. I can't help but think my memory has been failing me these past few days, but I do tell him whatever I can remember. Alexei is lying in bed, clearly about to fall asleep, but he also helps once in a while by adding several elements to my descriptions.
Charles succeeds at making a very specific sketch of the Blue House, its garden, the parts we got to see, and how to get there using both the port and the train station as references. He even adds a glossary where all of the important information is written.
Sergei and Charles move on to ask us for information on our daily routine and the look of the interiors.
"I know very little about either of those things", I explain apologetically. "I only stayed in the house for a full day. We were not even allowed in all of rooms."
"Don't worry, what you gave us is going to be very useful", Charles tells us. Once the drawing and the annotations are finished, he starts putting everything he used back in the suitcase.
"Well, I guess we part in the morning, I will wake Your Imperial Highnesses up", Sergei says. "Have a very good night."
When they leave me and my brother alone, I change into my nightdress and tuck Alyosha into bed.
Oo
My brother and I pray together on his bed, thanking God for this huge help and begging Him to keep our sisters safe.
"Are you sad because of those men who hurt you?" Alexei asks me, and my eyes well up with tears. I shake my head to reassure him, which doesnʼt fool him. He leans to hug me just as the first tears roll down my eyes.
I hug my brother back and sob as he tries to soothe me for what feels like hours. He rubs my back and pets my hair, whispering "there, there" or "it will be fine" every now and then. Sweet child. I smile amidst tears.
"Donʼt be sad", he comforts me. "They hate you, but I love you. The sisters love you and lots of people do because you are very kind and smart. They are just bad. God will punish them someday, as well as those who killed papa and mama."
"I know baby", I say with a smile as I pull away. I wipe my tears and kiss his hand. It was going to be the usual simple gesture, but then I continue kissing his hand many, many times again until I am pretending to eat it. Mama used to do that sometimes as she tucked me and my siblings into bed, especially back when we were little. I loved mama so much, I still do… and Nastya would imitate her by doing the same thing, my dear funny little sister, how I miss her.
Alexei giggles, and I genuinely feel better for an instant. Happy even.
"I love you", he laughs.
"I love you too", I tell him, and I kiss his forehead before going to my bed.
My brother seems to have fallen asleep rather quickly, probably because of the morphine. After worrying for a long time about the fate of my sisters, I eventually fall asleep as well.