The day was typical; after dressing I ate breakfast in my sitting room before taking a walk in the garden. I wrote a letter to Mashka when I returned to my study, then I went to my studio to sit at my easel. I was working on a painting of a valley full of flowers, but I couldn't get the shading of the trees right. I wrote a letter to my aunt, Olga Alexandrova, inviting her to come to my palace for tea the following day, so we could discuss my work. She was a gifted painter, who has guided me in improving my skills.

I had a luncheon with some friends, noble ladies. We discussed the new fashions and trends thriving in America at the time. It was typical small talk, and when it ended I listened to my gramophone while embroidering. I was joined by Tatiana and her children for tea.

"Hello, Tatya, how are you?" I greeted her.

"I'm well, and you?" She replied.

"I'm fine, thanks."

Her little five year old daughter approached me and wrapped her little arms around me. "Hi, Auntie Nastasia!" She exclaimed with a giggle. I took her tiny hand and led them to my balcony where tea awaited us. We chatted, and the children told me about all the games they learned from their governess.

The reason why I don't want children isn't because I do not like them. The reason is that I don't think I would be a good enough mother. Being an aunt is easy, and perhaps more fun. They always are excited to see me, and I can spoil them instead of having to raise them. I don't think I'd be able to take on that responsibility. I surely don't know how all of my siblings knew instantly how to be good parents.

Dmytri took the three older children on a walk. I held the little one year old baby in my arms as I chatted with Tatiana.

"Have you heard about Alyosha?" She asked.

"What about him?" I replied, concerned. Something happened I was not informed of?

"He hit his head, and he's already started bleeding. Dr. Botkin and Derevenko say it's a grave situation."

And I was never informed?

"When did this start?" I asked, trying not to sound offended.

"Yesterday morning when he awoke, he hit his head on the headboard. The swelling started in the evening."

Imagine, dying from hitting your head on a headboard!

"How is he now?"

"In much pain, as you can imagine. I am going to visit tomorrow. Would you like to come?"

My tea with Aunt Olga. I'm sure she'll understand, especially if the situation is grave.

"Certainly," I replied, voice shaking. "Shall I come to your palace at one?"

"Yes. I am sure everything will be fine. These things have happened."

I said nothing. We both silently agreed that in reality, nothing this bad has happened. He's never hit his head before. This we didn't have mental stability to speak into existence. We sat in silence for a few minutes, when Dmytri arrived with the children again.

They fetched their belongings and as Tatiana helped dress the children, Dmytri approached me. "You know about the Tsarevich?" he asked.

I looked down. "Yes," I replied. "I will visit him with you tomorrow." Dmytri nodded.

"Try not to worry too much, Nastasia." he smiled. Easy for him to say. His brother and best friend isn't on his deathbed.

"Thank you," he gave me a quick hug and they departed.

I went to my private sitting room, stunned and anxious. My childhood governess, Shura, entered. She is now my head maid and lives with me. I've known her and her husband, Pierre Gilliard, since I was a small child, and her loyalty and devotion brought her to live with me. We are very close, as she is a mother figure to me. Pierre was the French tutor to my siblings and I, and we grew very fond of him over the years. He now works teaching French at a university in the city.

The Gilliards own a handsome home in St. Petersburg, but most of the time they live here in my palace. They are still very close with my family, especially Alexei, considering Pierre spent the most time with him.

"Shura," my voice shook. "It's Alyosha. He's in a grave situation."

"Oh, Lord, what happened?" her eyes widened with concern.

"He hit his head and is bleeding and swollen. I am going with Tatiana to visit him tomorrow. He's never been hurt this badly before, not at Spala or when he nearly broke his ankle when he was sixteen."

Shura attempted to recover from her shock as we sat down on a sofa.

"I've never felt this way before. Something in me says... this is the end. I cannot lose Alyosha!" I continued, tears filling my eyes. Shura wrapped her arms around me as I wept.

"Oh, Nastya. He is in God's hands. Always remember that, dear." she spoke softly.

"And what if he will be with Him soon?" I replied.

"Then that is His plan." her voice shook. We sat there for a few moments, holding each other, weeping. I know that I wouldn't be able to grieve with her if he passes in the next few days. This could be the eve of a long period of sorrow.

"I'm sorry, Nastya." she wiped her tears. "I don't mean to make it worse by crying."

"No, Shura, this will be hard for everyone. There's nothing we will be able to do to stop it." I replied. Silence fell upon my sitting room. I don't know how much time has passed. Shura stood and began dusting my bookcase. I helped her fold and mend my stockings until I received a call. It was Father.

"Hello?" I answered the phone.

"Nastya? Oh, thank God. Alexei is hurt, and we think it's best you come soon." he sounded tense, which was unusual for him.

"I know. I had tea with Tatiana today, and we plan on visiting tomorrow afternoon."

I received nothing but silence from the other end.

"Are you there, Papa?"

"Yes. Tomorrow afternoon should be good." he replied quietly. He knows he might not be here tomorrow afternoon.

"I'll telephone Tatiana, and I'll come in the morning, will that work?"

"Certainly. And please, Nastasia, be quick. Spala was never this bad, and your mother- she- is so worried she doesn't speak. I've haven't even seen her cry or pray. I think she's resigned to a state of shock."

"Papa, tell Alexei to wait for me. I'm coming tomorrow, tell him to hold on." a lump ached in my throat.

"I will. He'll wait for the schwipsig."

"I love you, Papa, and everyone. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodbye, Malenkaya."

"Good bye." and the conversation ended.

Soon I ate dinner with Shura and Pierre. Perhaps one may wonder why I eat a meal with my maid. How could a grand duchess be so lonely? I am not lonely, they are my friends, and now is the time to tell Pierre that Alexei is dying.

After we began eating, I said, "Alexei is hurt again."

Pierre glanced at Shura before asking me, "Is it severe?"

"Yes, and I am visiting him tomorrow. Would you like to join me?"

"Certainly."

"He hit his head yesterday morning, and the doctors say this is possibly the worst attack he's had yet."

"Even worse than Spala?"

"Yes," I replied, and his gaze lowered. He knows it could be the end. The dinner was mostly silent, the three of us anxious for morning. None of us had anything more to say. We didn't dare speak of our anxieties, for it would be no use. We sat in a small parlor after the meal, Shura and I knitting and Pierre reading. I looked around the room for a moment. I let the peace settle in for a moment, because I know I won't see it again for a long time.

I went to my bedroom to write in my journal and say my prayers. It was about ten o'clock when I got into my bed and began drifting off to sleep.

What seemed like instantly, I bolted awake. "Anastasia!" someone exclaimed in the dark. What was going on? Who was there? My stomach churned as the fog cleared from my mind. This is the moment I would be told my only brother is lying cold on his deathbed. It was finally happening.

Except, it wasn't.