Leaving

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The presence at the St. Petersburg train station was small, just as Anastasia had wanted. The only people that had come to see her off were her top commanders, her grandmother, and Virtanen. She hadn't wanted Virtanen there - had specifically said that he was not invited - but her grandmother hadn't listened to her: she'd brought him, anyway. She was practically dangling off of her arm, her head lovingly on his shoulder as some servants loaded Anastasia's luggage onto the Czar Train, the armored train she'd designed before leaving Czechoslovakia meant to provide the Czar, whoever it might be, with the comforts and protections of home while on the move. The only people that would be on the train that particular day, though, were some of her guards and a few select servants: she didn't want to leave St. Petersburg, the city she'd worked so hard to keep, alone, without people she trusted in it in case... something happened.

"I'll say it again, Anastasia," Maria said gravely. "I don't think it's a good idea to leave the city, right now. The citizens need a strong hand, here: need I remind you of all that has happened even while you were here?"

Anastasia's eyelid twitched. "You don't. And you'd be wise to never mention it, again."

Maria seemed surprised, but Anastasia didn't much care: it was the truth.

"Don't worry about the city," General Horacek said with a pleasant smile. A smile that Anastasia had to fight the urge to smack right off of his stupid face. "St. Petersburg is in good hands, your grace: you have my word."

Zelenko gave Horacek a sideways glance.

She raised an eyebrow. What the hell was that about?

A man wearing a crisp, blue uniform walked up to Anastasia, giving her a salute. Judging by the uniform, she supposed that he was the train conductor.

"The train is ready to leave when you are, your grace," the conductor announced.

Anastasia nodded. "Thank you." She looked around the platform for any other servants that were still loading the train. She didn't see any: it looked like they were finished. "We'll leave the moment you return to the engine."

"Yes, your grace." He ran off to the engine car, blowing on a shrill whistle that echoed throughout the empty station. That, she supposed, was her cue to leave.

"We'll see you when you get back, your grace," General Horacek gave a quick bow. "Safe travels."

She nodded, then hopped onto the train.

The car she got into was the royal sleeping car. There were two beds in it, both attached to the walls, with plush mattresses, silk sheets, and down pillows. Simple, decorative, wood paneling lined all of the walls, and each light was surrounded with a crystal fixture. On all of the doors was the Romanov family crest, the enamel practically glowing in the light of the car. It was the only royal sleeping car on the train, thus far, but she'd designed another sleeping car, should she ever get married and have children. The Czars of Russia after her would travel in comfort and luxury, just like the ones that came before her.

She sighed as she plopped down on her bed, taking a swig from the bottle of fine scotch that sat on the nightstand at the head of her bed. She hated traveling: she was never quite sure what to do on trains. And now that she didn't have her men on the train with her, helping her plan the invasion of her country, she really didn't have anything to do.

And when she didn't have anything to do, she would inevitably start thinking about her family.

She couldn't let herself do that.

She sighed as she took another couple of swigs of bourbon and curled up in the bed, wrapping the blankets around herself as if they would shield her from the memories. She was going back to the place where it all started. She was going back to Yekaterinburg, back to the house where her entire family was killed, where her entire life changed forever. The memories were going to come back in their full power.

She felt a hand gently brushing her head, the way her mother used to when she was trying to get her to sleep.

"Have courage, Nastya." It wasn't her mother's voice she heard: it was Rasputin's. "Be brave: this will all be over, soon."

Go away, she begged as she squeezed her eyes tighter. Please, God: make him go away!

She fell asleep, terrified of what she might see if she woke up.

***

Sasha hated trains.

He especially hated the trains that left the city. The metro was bad, but at least you'd eventually get off. Like, within the hour. But, not with those cross country trains. When you got on those trains, you would be on that stupid thing for hours, maybe even days. All of them were the same: the cars for the common people, people like Sasha, just had benches for you to sit on. Three, to be exact: two along the wall, one in the middle. With just enough room to walk through to the tiny bathrooms by the doors. Food would get passed out every once and awhile, but it was never much: just a piece of stale bread, maybe with some cheese if you were lucky. And your luggage? Never safe. You had to take it everywhere you went on that train, even go so far as to sleep on it, or something was going to end up getting stolen.

And he was going to be on that train for far too long. One and a half days, to be exact.

He sighed as the train left from St. Petersburg station. What was he going to do? He couldn't sleep: there were too many crying children on that train, and he was too worried about his luggage for that, anyway. He didn't have any books: he thought it was a stupid hobby. The only thing he had was his knife and his gun. And a small chunk of wood.

So, he pulled it out and began to carve.

"Careful that the wrong person doesn't see you with that," a babushka sitting near him warned. He would've guessed that she was around seventy, and judging by the look on her face that made her look like she'd just sucked on a lemon, she'd seen quite a bit of shit in her time.

"Don't worry about me," Sasha said. "I'll be just fine."

Besides: this knife would be the least of their worries.

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Hello, everybody! Here's chapter three of five for today. I hope you all enjoyed it :D

Now, as promised, I'll be giving you guys some information on my next project. This one will have the first few chapters posted right about the time "The Last Romanov" is finished, and is similar to this one, in that it's an alternate, steampunk history. But, we're going to the other side of the world from this one, and we're going years earlier: 1895 to be precise on the year, and Japan and Korea to be exact on the place. This story will have it all: mystery, political intrigue, civil unrest; all the things you love about this story, with a little addition: love. Coming to you at some point in the next few months: Meiji Steam! I hope it'll help you get over this book ending...

Anyway, as always, be sure to vote and comment, and stick around: we've got two more chapters for you tonight :D

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