The last Duchess

chapter two

Alexander Palace, Tsarkoe Selo, Russia, 15th June 1917

The guards lurked everywhere. Smirks, that had malicious intention hidden, played on all their faces. What once had been our beautiful home was now a prison, discomfort and fear lay all around us, trapping us in a furious cycle. Days pass by merged into one; birthdays are spent as a regular day, they are filled with chores and working the garden, only the few hours at the end of the day are we a family again.

Some of the guards throw rocks, one once caught little Ortipo, Tatiana now refuses to walk with him outside now. Besides Papa, I am the only one who will walk the full length of the now heavily guarded garden. The breeze stills blows, my hat is secured on my bald head, and the flowers are still bright and alive, almost as if nothing has changed, but everything has changed.

I hold a book to my chest, as I walk around, I feel the guards burning stares on me but I still pay them no notice. I walk around for a little while, before I hear them starting to laugh, at this I raise my head and look at them. Their shrill laughs echoed around the empty garden, and an uneasy feeling overtook me and I turned to leave before being met with a body of a guard.

I took a stumble backwards and my book slipped from my arms, I regained my position and reached for my book, but he was quicker. His hands touched all over the book, flicking through the pages not caring for any of it.

"For darling Olga, from Aunty Irene." He mocked bitterly, a heavy Russian accent occupied his words, he mispronounced some of the English words clearly not having spoken it before, but he powered through, determined to mock and shame me.

I didn't speak any words, but I glared, with all that was left of my dignity, I glared. He had a sly smile on his face, and he seemed to be enjoying the little game he was playing. I sighed.

"Can I have my book back, please?" I spoke, not letting my emotions affect my tone. His grin grew more, and his eyes almost sparkled with his evil intentions.

"Sure." He replied, his smile still plastered, he bowed dramatically, the book being offered from his hand, I reached for it but it soon flew from his hands. He had thrown it to the other side of the garden, my eyes followed it and red paint drawn on the garden wall caught my eye. My mouth dropped.

It is a scrawled out painting of Rasputin sodomizing my mother, they are painted in a way to look like as if they are enjoy such a vile act. My first instict is not anger, but to have a nauseous feeling. Soldiers to the side are laughing, my throat feels as if it is closing up. And the soldier from before seems to be bathing in the glory of my embarrassment.

"Do you like it? I thought a lovely garden needed a lovely painting!" He exclaimed, an annoying happiness in his tone, as I stared fixated on the drawing. I hate it, he has portrayed them so vilely.

"Oh now come on, if you're so amazed by it, I'm sure I can make one of you, I'll pose with you and all! Oh wait, or do you want another go with the heretic? Have you and your sisters all had a turn with Rasputin, your mother certainly has!" His voice is drawling, scurrilous. I feel tears prick at my eyes, and I clench my jaw and shake my head side to side. His breath is tickling now at my bare neck. He raises a hand to my face to stoke it, but I shrink away from him.

"Oh come on now. You don't have to be ashamed, no one else is here." He announces, his patience running loose. He tries to cup my face now, I shiver away from his touch, his sticky warm breath still tickling at my skin, his crude words playing in my head. His once malicious grin is now replaced with a scowl.

"Now listen-" He starts but before he can finish a rock flies from an open window at his head, he turns around in an instant, no longer am I his priority and I breathe a sigh of relief. He rubs his head, before landing his eyes on a window.