The Lives Of The Romanovs

A Summer's End

Olga

The last couple of weeks in France were nice. We took many photographs and had several beach days. All four of my boys were badly sunburnt with many of the other children. Nevertheless, we had an excellent time. But August 30th came quickly and that meant it was time to go home to Russia. I was rather ecstatic to go home. I wished to see Irina Alexandrovna and even Felix Yusupov to tell them all about our holiday in France.

"Tatya, this holiday was amazing! But we will go to Livadia next Summer. We were too far away from Russia for too long." I nodded to her as we walked down the stairs with our suitcases. The Norwegian, Romanian, and Dutch royal families left earlier this morning. The rest of us were practically running around to make sure we were properly ready to leave.

"Madams, let me take those." The footman said.

"Oh, thank you." Tatiana smiled as we handed him our suitcases. Oleg and Lyokha came running down the stairs behind us while laughing.

"Boys, be careful on the stairs. You may fall." I scolded them.

"I cannot wait to go home! Where is Papa at?" Oleg asked.

"Him and some of the other men went into town for a little while. It is not a big deal. Oh look, their car is pulling up now." I pointed to the front doors. Igor, King George, Dmitri, Papa, Vladimir, David, Georgie, Henry, and Bertie walked into the room. They all had wan smiles on their face, like mischievous children. I furrowed my eyebrows and approached Igor.

"What is that look for? My Goodness, what did you do?" I groaned. Igor cupped my face in his hands.

"Olenka, will you always love me? No matter how stupid I am."

"What did you do, Igor Konstantinovich?"

Henry snickered. "Yes, what did you do, Igor?"

I pulled Igor into the sitting room across the hall. The group of men just so happened to follow us. They kept snickering and whispering to each other. As they shut the doors to the sitting room, Igor started taking his shirt off.

"Oh Goodness, what are you doing?" I gritted my teeth.

Igor smirked. "Let us do this here."

"Oh, not appropriate." I lightly smacked his shoulder. "Not in front of our elders."

Igor winced in pain as she pulled off his shirt. He the turned around and revealed a large eagle tattoo. Spread from one shoulder to the other. Each shoulder were the wings and the body of the eagle was in the middle. There was a Romanov crest snuck in on one part and a Russian flag as well.

"Christ, she is going to murder him. This is the best way to end the holiday." Bertie crossed his arms and laughed.

My mouth hung open as I scanned his tattoo. By instinct, I slapped Igor's head.

"Ow!" Igor shouted and coward.

"Why would you do that?! Oh, you look like a criminal! This was the largest mistake you have ever made!" I yelled.

"But it looks manly." Dmitri stuck up for him.

I scoffed. "It does not look manly! It looks as if he has been in prison. How could you do this to me?!"

"We all thought it would be a good idea." Igor shrugged.

"Who cares what they all think? I am the one that has to look at you! I am very embarrassed right now." I buried my face into my hands. I would not have minded a smaller tattoo. But it was very large. I did not want my boys to become delinquents as they grew older because of Igor's rebellious tattoo. He was going to be a bad influence on his own children. And the worst part? It would be ok his body forever.

Papa deeply exhaled. "Olga, it is not horrible. And Igor is not a criminal. It shall stay covered for most of the time, so the tattoo will be hidden."

"But Papa, it is immodest. I admire your tattoo, but it is not large. But look at his. How long did this take?"

Dmitri snickered. "All god damn morning. Igor nearly cried like a little bitch getting it done." He pulled a cigarette out and lit it. I looked at Igor with a disappointed expression. I walked passed the group in the main hallway with everyone else. It was not that Igor got a tattoo, but he did not tell me he was going to. And it would be on his body for the rest of his life. That was quite embarrassing not just for him, but for me.

As it was time to leave, there were several bows and handshakes exchanged. I caught Vladimir and Eudoxia sneaking a kiss behind on of the pillars on the stairs. Anastasia and Sir Greystone were exchanging flirty messages and whispers in each other's ears. If I did not know any better, than I would assume they were secretly in love with each other. Actually, that would not surprise me.

"It was great to see you again, my dear cousin. We must write more often." King George held his hand out to Papa. Papa grinned and gave a large hug to King George instead. They held each other tightly for a moment.

"Oh, Georgie. Even at our old age, we are still twins without being twins." Papa laughed.

"We always have been. We always will be." They parted and shook hands for the last time. We then got in our car and started to drive away. The chances of us staying at the castle in France again were small. But the memories would always remain. The laughs we all shared this Summer would always be here. Sometime later, we finally arrived at the train station and boarded the Russian Imperial Train. Finally, I was able to speak Russian. I was tired of speaking English and French.

That night, I sat in bed and started reading. Igor was changing his clothes. He stood in his Navy blue trousers and his tank top. He slid his tank top off. I could see the tattoo, but it was different. For some reason, the tattoo made him look more muscular. His back muscles were defined as he was searching for his pajamas.

"Wait Igor, stay right there." I demanded. Igor furrowed his eyebrows and stood there. He looked over his shoulder at me.

"What is it, Olenka?"

"Nothing...just...perhaps the tattoo was not as bad as I thought it was. I like it on you

Igor smirked. "I knew it would grow on you. God, I am so glad we are going home. I want to sleep in my own bed."

"I, as well. Come on." I pat the bed. Igor finished putting on his pajamas and crawled into bed. We quickly fell asleep with no more words to be spoken.