Brief Foreword: This is a piece dedicated to the late Grand Duchess Anastasia of Russia, and the urban legend of her survival. In this story, there is a great destiny waiting for Anastasia in America... A place among the stars of Broadway and Hollywood through their Golden Ages. And this is mildly based in historical facts, as it is an alternate history. Enjoy this first sneak peek!
(No worries, this will not interfere with other stories I have online. This is a side project, which will be posted on my Ao3 as well.)
October 1, 1918: 8:30 A.M
Washington D.C
(Anastasia's POV)
For the first time since that turbulent time of the Revolution, the harsh reality I faced became clear. After the long journey away from Russia, there were no more distractions and excuses for myself to ignore it. Now- Now I was lost and alone in an unfamiliar, distant nation from my former homeland, Russia. Well, if Russia could be called Russia anymore. No, it was all dead to me! Everything of my old life had been washed away into history. Like my family that lived only to die, those Russian soldiers that fought in vain, and some dear friends that died long ago.
Yet I was still alive, and what for? I no longer knew who I was anymore. Once a Grand Duchess with her entire world at her grasp, and now a castaway orphan! And this was what it was like to be on the wrong side of history...
It was painful to give even a glancing thought about my dire situation. My breath hitched, as I covered my face into my hands. The thought of all of them being stabbed and shot to death, screaming for help in that gloomy, cold cellar that night... My heart broke. Tears slipped out of the cracks, blurring everything.
My parents, my dear sisters, and even my youngest brother had all perished at the end of June. I knew it would happen soon after the British agents smuggled me out of Tobolsk to England, where I would be moved to America. In April, the rest of my family were moved to that horrid prison the Bolsheviks called a "house". And that murderer they called a commandant had ordered their so-called "execution" one month after their transfer. And what saddened me most was that I never had a chance to give them a proper goodbye.
Why must I outlive my loved ones?
I did not know how long I cried. I smothered my face into the pillow and sobbed for what seemed like hours. Bargaining with God to bring them back would not work. My family was already in a better place, but they were still gone for the rest of my life! They would never grow old and happy!
It ached very much. Yet I needed to cry now so that I would be strong later. I would live for my parents and my siblings watching from above. Poor Mashka... She wanted the most out of all of us to have a family.
"Mama... P- Papa..."
But I could not hear an answer. Between hitching breaths and trembling sobs, I asked God to take care of my late family. That was all I could pray for. Soon, I realized I was truly alone. I had no family, no home to rest in anymore.
With my tears now dry, salty streaks on my face, I laid down again on my hotel bed and closed my eyes. All I could do was wait until a guardian was found for me. They would not be any distant relatives since they were all living far away. They would be strangers to me.
I had my doubts after hearing of the dreadful news that my Mama, Papa, and siblings were all gone from the slaughter. But did I have any other option? I hoped that whoever became my guardian was a kind and trustworthy person...
After some time, I realized that I was hungry. I got off the bed and glanced out of the window. A few stories below on my left, an unfamiliar maroon red car was parked. I squinted below from my windowsill, seeing a lady in a dark blue dress and a white sun hat step out of the car. I wondered if that lady would be my new guardian, as foolish as it was. For at least a dozen times, I had looked down to see well-dressed visitors who simply happened to be hotel guests.
Is this what the mythical Rapunzel felt, cooped up in that boring tower? I scoffed. I should not have lifted my hopes so high.
I went to my small closet, where I had a few daytime dresses. I picked the inconspicuous one that was a plain pastel blue or white- like the rest of the ladies wore. It was tiring to often see passersby in the hotel giving strange looks at me whenever I ate lunch. Everytime they looked at me with goggled, gazing eyes, I felt like Alice in Wonderland- a stranger.
After getting myself dressed, I went out of my room. This kind American guard was more polite than the Russian ones in our former palace. I even knew his name, Franklin, the namesake of a "founding father" for America. He was a tall man with a beard. For a guard, he had some sense of humor. I liked funny people similar to me. Of course I was not "tall", but we both had a sense of humor.
"Rise and shine take two, miss."
I made a brief smile at the guard. "Mister Franklin, please escort me downstairs. I am hungry."
"Of course. I would like some water too."
He escorted me to the elevator. We remained in the elevator without a word, watching people step in or out of our way down. It was fascinating that such things existed in the world. Useful devices had eliminated stairs and feet as ways of going places, and radio had begun to gain popularity throughout the world. I knew that Olenka would have been fascinated by such new inventions. But I tried thinking of something else. The memories of my late family still brought me sorrow.
We went out of the elevator, and we found ourselves in the hotel greeting room. The marbled floors glinted under the electric, glass lights hanging from above. The front desk, where a receptionist named "Dewey" greeted and arranged rooms for various guests...
Music from ragtime singers drifted from a gramophone in the corner. It was a song that I had never heard before, singing of a life finding freedom. Well, I had been freed from the golden cage of royal life forevermore, but it had cost me many loved ones.
But I recalled what I had said to myself not long ago.
"Someday, I shall do something bigger than what I am."
I had begun to step over to the hotel bar, hoping to find myself a drink. I wanted to have bliss again. No! I could not think of my ordeals. I despised the memories like pesky vultures, coming again and again...
But there was the same woman that I had spotted before, sitting with two suited men in fedora hats! Who was she? I did not wait so long to find out.
The woman shook her head, breaking her conversation with the two men. I caught words from what they discussed...
"And the Romanov? I've arranged to find her here..."
I stopped in my steps, surprised! The young American lady was the one who would take me in! I felt strange. I was surprised enough to make my heart pound faster. I felt scared. But I felt another thing. Hope.
"Excuse me, miss? Are you here to see me?"
"Oh, my. She- You are here!"
"Uh, yes?"
The lady turned around, with lips parted and dull cloudy gray eyes wide open. She must have realized who I was, as she stuttered, trying to find a suitable address. But what was I? Not a Grand Duchess or daughter anymore, lady. I was now an orphan and a survivor. Apparently, I struggled to make a well-raised impression with someone who would have been lower than my station in a past life. So I stood there like an idiot, with my mouth agape in silence. I blinked hard, pretending to clear my throat. It was laughable!
Mama would be disappointed if she were there. She would have told me to stop my daydreaming and introduce myself. I took a deep breath. An uplifting of my chin, eye contact, and a straight back would do just fine, Mama said. I did so.
"I am Anastasia Romanova. Sadly, not of Russia or family anymore..."
"Ah. Sorry to hear of your unfortunate turn of life, Your-"
"Please, I would prefer you to call me Anastasia."
"Very well. Would Stacy or Anne do as, say, alternatives?"
The guard nodded down at me. Yes, that would do!
"I like the sound of those names. If you insist, miss..."
"Miss Emily Cora Branshaw. But oh, pardon me. That is quite a mouthful to address me by."
"You may call me Em," she added, smiling at me.
At once, she stood up from the chair. The two guards, as I presumed the two men were, stood to accompany her. I knew they were special American agents. The shorter guard handed me a letter from his satchel.
"The proof of Miss Branshaw as your guardian, Miss Anastasia, until you are of age."
"Thank you, sir," I said, taking the letter.
And Franklin, the friendly guard, then spoke to me. I looked up, seeing him frown.
"This will be the last time I see you, miss. Stay strong, and may you flourish again."
"Oh, thank you, Mister Franklin. Thank you for your service."
I was a bit saddened again, knowing that the guard almost as a friend to me would not be seen again by me. He put out his hand, and I shook it for a final time.
"Come along, Miss Anastasia, and please use the lavatory before we go. It will be a few hours to New York City, where you will live in my family mansion."