Anastasia Romanov |Lesbian Story| (The Sequel)

Chapter 27

Trotsky and Krasnoff along with the other important members of the Circle were gathering in the Phoenix Hall. Our spies had been doing reconnaissance in Kremlin and delivered enough needed reports from their espionage.

In two-day time, it was going to be Anastasia's older sister's coronation. The two generals had convened our brothers and sisters to discuss the plan. Now we were crafting the biggest Machiavellian operation that had never been carried out before by our movement.

The mission would be in motion before sunrise. The Hunters would attack during the royal parade. If somehow the first attempt failed, we would activate the second plan and finish the job inside the cathedral where Alexandra Romanov would be crowned. However, there was this unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach that wouldn't go away. My unfettered heart was torn between my credence of justice and my feelings for the younger Romanov.

How could I be engaged in the act of obliterating her family and still have the decency to look her in the eyes again? Yet I was powerless to stop the inevitable.

After the meeting, we gathered for the super. I ate lightly as I was sitting there with my mind tormented by the battling thoughts. Then I felt a cold hand on mine and I looked up to find my godfather staring at me gravely.

"I know this is a difficult time for you, Vale," he said with empathic violet eyes, "but our future is partially in your own hands while the rest will be up to the circumstances that laced together. I want you to remember this, daughter, that whatever happens to you or me, there is never bloodshed that is not intended for the greater good."

"I understand," I said in a stoic voice. There was a brief moment of silence between us, then he turned to the others and raised his cup.

"For the Land of the Firebird!"

"For the Land of the Firebird!" they echoed chorally with great energy. As soon as I decently could, I excused myself from the table and set off to the hospital wing, a large, quiet, dimly lit space where Anastasia laid like a Sleeping Beauty.

Once I'd reached it and dismissed the nurses, I let go of my steeliness that had supported me throughout the day and went inside. I expected Lyra to be there as always, but she wasn't. My feet moved towards the heartbreaking sight. Anastasia looked like a distant star in the sky. With a long sigh, I eased myself onto the chair by her bedside.

She looked a lot paler. Her skin was like white plaster in an abandoned house. How long were they going to keep her in this state? I reached out to stroke her cold cheek with the back of my fingers. As expected, she felt like ice.

"This is going to be a long deep sleep for you," I said in a voice barely above a whisper, "and when you wake up, everything will change."

I thought of the deceitful plan I had conspired with my people. This would be a knife that cut us apart forever for nothing destroyed love faster than a betrayal.

"I called you a monster," I said, ignoring the quiver in my throat, "but it's not you, it's me. I was so plagued with hatred and vengeance that it blinded me from seeing the goodness in you."

I took her hand in mine and laced her slender fingers with my own. Then I brought them to my lips and kissed them softly, hoping that somehow the warmth would comfort her through this void of nothingness.

"I don't know what to do, Anastasia," I said helplessly at last. Anastasia could not hear me. She would never know how desperately I needed her. My chest grew tight with sadness. I tried to hold back the wild anguish that had been inflicting me night and day, but burning tears kept flowing from my eyes like a surging spring. I let myself give in to an uncontrollable sob and buried my face in my arms beside her.