The Sisters Of The Court

Chapter 79: Scarlett

St Petersburg, 1917
I sit still as a little doll in the big bed, something is happening but I don't know what. Images float in front of my eyes as if I was hallucinating, Horrible images, Blood in the snow, a man laying still on the ground. I hear the door open and a man comes in. My heart starts racing, what does he want from me? There is no one here to protect me. "Your grace, a letter." He gives me the letter and back out of the room in a hurry. I trace my fingers over the eloquent handwriting, I wonder who it could be From?
****
My Dearest Natasha,
I have heard of your condition and I hope you are well enough to read this letter. I admire you too much to hear of you in such a state now please listen. You have not been implicated in this in any way, Dmitri and I have not uttered a word against you. Rasputin is dead. It is over forever. I hope you will get better soon and that this letter may help.
-Your Faithful Admirer,
P.F.Y.
*****
Tears roll down my cheeks as I close the letter, he is right. It is over. I surprise myself with my clarity of mind, how could I have been so weak as to break down when my family needs me? Just because of-Rasputin dying. I feel weak still but I get myself up out of bed as my legs shake underneath me. I dress myself in my signature purple, the sign of nobility. I buckle my shoes as my hands shake, I can't control what my body does but I couldn't care less right now. I get my hair under control and put on my makeup, making my eyes look wider then they are. I Look exhausted but at least I've managed to pull myself together. I raise up my chin, I'm a grand Duchess and I am not insane. I open the door and keep my posture straight as I descend down the stares, slowly but determined. As I get to bottom of the stairs I look at a telegram sitting in a bowl.
*
Nickie Stopped At Stavka. Proclaimed You As Emperor. Meeting At Winter Palace.
*
My mouth drops open and I stare at it. Where is Michael? Has he already gone? I quickly race back upstairs and change into a black dress, the colour of mourning. Now is not a good time to be flaunting the colours of nobility. The sacrifice we made, killing Rasputin? The personal and public sacrifice we made? Was it for nothing? Just for the monarchy to collapse underneath us as if it was built on Quicksand. I hurry back downstairs and Michael stands at the bottom of the staircase staring at me. I can barely bring myself to look at happen, I had a breakdown, I was not deaf. I heard his conversation about divorce, now that I am not in that state as he so valiantly put it maybe he'll bring it up. I won't let it happen but that is irrelevant now. My husband is the emperor and I am his wife, the empress. We cannot look as if we hate each other if there is any hope of saving the monarchy. "I'm coming with you." I say simply and he starts to say something but I hold up my gloved hand to stop him. There is no time for explanations. I walk quickly to our automobile and get in holding onto the strap of my pocketbook tightly. Michael sits next to me and we sit in silence while I look out the windows in horror. Buildings are on fire, people lay in the street wounded or dead, people are breaking windows just for food. I look upon it horrified and turn to Michael, "Once you accept the position, we must speak to the people directly. We must parley with the leaders of this-this party. We have to help them, open us up to them." I say sternly, force will only aggravate the problem. The problem is that the people feel closed off the from the imperial family, uncared about. Which is true from what I see. "I'm going to leave it up to the people, if they want a monarchy or not." My jaw drops and I look at him astonished. Abdication? The people decide? No monarchy? Fury rages inside of my chest, how dare he? How dare he be too much of a coward to try? I raise my hand to slap him across the face and I do it as hard as I can, "Michael, this isn't about us or any petty problems we have. This is about the country. You are the last hope for the monarchy." I snap at him and he grabs my arms angrily. "No. You listen to me, I am proclaimed, not you. I will decide." He snaps back at me before letting me go. I can't breathe, can he really be this stupid, this uninformed? The car stops at the gate to the winter palace and I get out as Michael screams at me to get back in, I ignore him as I watch the angry people, russian people around me. A young girl stands with her child in her arms, the child is obviously dead. I approach her and she looks at me sadly, she only looks about 17 years old. I take off my cape and put it around her shoulders, she points to the palace and says the Russian word for father. I wonder if one of the nobility is her child's father. Someone grabs my arm and spins me around, Michael towers over me angrily but I stay put. I'm staying here. Where we should have been all along instead of hiding in our palaces. "Either stay here or go and leave me be, this is where we both belong. With our people." I wrench my arm away from him and turn back to the people. I gently take the child from the young mother, the poor child is frozen to death. I say a prayer over it and shut its eyes, "Go home. It's dangerous here." I tell her and she nods to me before disappearing into the crowd. Michael is gone out of sight, yet our automobile still sits in front of the gates. I put the child in the backseat, He deserves to be buried honestly. I Look at him sadly, this could have been any of my children. A few tears slip down my face as I order the driver to return home and come back with any food he can find. I can't help them all but the emaciated living skeletons lining the streets make me disgusted at our inhumanity. An old man sits on the curb next to the street with blood seeping from him. I quickly rush to him and rip off the bottom of my dress wrapping it around his arm. He smiles at me, a simple smile and I help him get up off the curb and sit him down against the fence as someone throws a Molotov through the fence landing in the snow resulting in an explosion. The old man reaches up to touch my cheek and smiles, "Thank you for your kindness, it is too late now." His hand drops from my cheek and I watch him silently. We have caused this. Us. The nobility. We have caused this carnage and killing. Whatever happens to us we deserve it. All of a sudden two men come and drag me onto my feet towards the winter palace as I yell for them to let me go. They deposit me in a small room where Michael sits at the desk. Several men sit around him and I stare at him with the pen in his hand. I know what he's going to do. He's going to abdicate and we'll all be killed because of it. Not that some of us don't deserve it. I watch him sign it silently and the tears roll down my cheeks, grieving for the country we have just lost and the uncertainty that is coming. What next?