The Last Summer

I wrote this for a writing challenge (just for fun). You had to choose one of your favourite historical persons and write about them. Since I had so much fun writing it, I decided to share. Enjoy ( hopefully ;-) ).


P.S.:I put the solution at the end (if needed).

The last summer

When I’ve folded the last of the linen, my hand lingers a moment on the fine fabric. Usually, this chore belongs to the girls, but I’ve shooed them away, eager to give my hands something to do, hoping the simple task will sooth the turmoil in my head.

I turn to the closet behind me and start to stack the freshly washed linen inside, deeply inhaling the scent of summer and the sunshine and remembering the precious half an hour we were allowed outside today. It had been raining this morning, but when we stepped outside the sun had come out, warming the fresh and clean air. My hand rested on Nicky’s forearm and I could feel the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt. “See my Love? Summer has finally arrived against all odds. I told you so. Everything is going to be alright.” I nodded, knowing he needed my consent, maybe even more than I needed his soothing but sadly empty words. Then I closed my eyes and left the ugly wooden fence and the neglected shrubbery behind, travelling back through the years for a few precious moments, to a time where Nicky and I strolled through parks far away from here, careless and oblivious of any trouble life would deal us.

I close the door of the closet and my gaze slips to the dresses of the girls. They have lost colour, and I notice that the seams are worn. Anastasia is growing so fast now that she will need new ones soon, anyway. Perhaps next Christmas-

I shy away from the thought and turn around to the narrow iron bed. Alexej is softly sighing in his sleep. For a moment I watch the gentle movement of his chest, hoping that the signs of a cold he had shown this morning won’t turn into something worse. There is a small crease on his forehead, and I wonder if he is still in pain. Rasputin would know, he always knew, but he is long gone. Gently I stroke back a loose lock of his hair. Soon he will turn fourteen, no longer a child and not yet a man. In my heart he will always be my baby, the child I fought so hard for. Though fate gave finally in, it keeps mocking me with the constant threat of taking him away from me again.

I leave the room and step into the hall. From the girl’s room, I can hear Olga’s clear calm voice. She is reading aloud to her sisters. From the quiet giggling of the younger girls, I can tell that it’s not the bible. Olga is a great reader, and soon her voice will lull the girls to sleep, so there is no need for me to step in and disrupt their secret pleasure.

There are no windows in the hall, and no one has lit the candles on the walls, so the darkness surrounding me is thick and almost impenetrable. I reach the top of the staircase, and while my foot is slowly searching for the first step, a thought lets me stop midmotion.

I will fall.

I will fall, and the darkness will swallow me, ripping away everything and everyone I ever loved or cared about.

My throat gets tight. My fingers clutch the cold and splintery bannister while my body leans toward the darkness before me, longing to stop fighting against the inevitable.

Then the moment passes away. Cool air fills my lungs. I straighten my back and slowly descend the stairs.

A warm light guides me to the saloon. One of the windows is ajar, and the room is filled with the sweet scent of lilac.

Nicky is sitting in his favourite armchair. A book is resting on his knees while he is watching the slowly descending darkness outside. When he notices me, a gentle smile appears on his face, the one I know so well and love so much.

“Are you alright, my Love?” his voice sounds tired.

I nod. “Of course.”

We are both liars.

Spoiler: Solution

Tsarina Alexandra Feodorovna (Alix of Hesse)