The Kings of Us [boyxboy - DISCONTINUED]

Prologue - Let The Bad Times Roll

PROLOGUE—LET THE BAD TIMES ROLL

A threatening darkness was quickly emerging over Ipatiev House.

It pierced the walls and shone through the windows and it was dancing like tendrils of fire.

Outside, the sky was clear and twilit, sprinkled with stars, made blurred and amorphous by the sweltering summer air, that swept through the growing, industrialising city of Yekaterinburg like a plague.

The House was a pristine white, with intricately carved arches and ornate layers of ledges and patterns and concaves. It lay on the top of a prominent hill, and it was as silent as a dead thing.

Light slipped into the small, dark room of shifting shadows at the back of the House.

"What is it?" the small boy said, swathed in thick blankets. He had a dainty face and hair of beaten gold and eyes of unbridled blue.

"Nothing big," the man said, his face gaunt and tight and pale. "The chaos has escalated here in Yekaterinburg, more than anticipated. They want us in the basement whilst they wait for transport to take us to somewhere safe."

"Why then, father, do you shake terribly?"

The man leaned in close to his son, and whispered, "The Czechoslovak legions are closing in, and they think they are on a mission to rescue us. They don't want that. They don't want us to escape, because we are their enemies now. We threaten the entire system they are fighting to create just by living. We are the phantom remnants of Old Russia. Our claim to the leadership of the country is legitimate, cemented in centuries of rule. The only way for them to eliminate the threat is to kill us."

The boy pressed his lips together and processed what he had just heard. He wondered whether some form of you lived on after death, or whether Heaven and Hell were real. He could not contemplate not existing anymore, and, he thought, I would rather go to Hell than cease to exist.

"Which is why I have been conspiring to ensure our safety as a family. I have bribed one of the guards to write and send a letter to my cousin, George, asking him whether he would help us and protect us. He said no, because he fears it would undermine his rule. He will not allow me or your mother to enter his country, but, as a godfather to your sister Tatiana, he said that he would protect you and your sisters. He will give you new names and wealth, and you will get a second chance at a happy life."

"No," his son said ardently, "I will not go and leave you and mother to die."

"Me and your mother will be fine, Alexei. We're not out of options yet. I will continue to bribe the guard to send word to every member of my vast family. They will help, and we will see you again. But, alas, maybe not for some time, at least not until the wars stop."

"I don't care," Alexei spat. "I will not risk it. We will find some other way—we will wait until help is granted and we will all leave together. Olga, Tatiana, Maria and Anastasia will not agree with this, either. They too will refuse."

"I haven't told your sisters," Nicholas said. "And I will not. I am telling you because you are my son and my heir and for the good of our family and our country you will do what I say."

Footsteps and hushed voices were echoing through the corridor.

"We must get to the basement," he said, pulling out a shirt interwoven with gemstones, pants, and a tunic to put over. He sat on his son's bed and gently lifted his crippled body into a sitting position, damaged from an accident in Siberia months ago.

Alexei sat quietly as his father dressed him.

"When do you think they would have tried to kill us?" he asked as his father carried him bridal style along the corridor, and then descending down the steps into the basement.