The rain had stopped momentarily, but a light
mist and heavy gray clouds still hung in the air. On the streets of
St. Petersburg, peasants went about their work despite the
unfavorable weather on this 6th day of March, 1913.
It was the 300th anniversary of Romanov rule of Russia and
preparations were being made for a grand celebration at the
nearby local Orthodox cathedral. Watching this scene unfold from a story or two above was a girl of about fourteen years, Marie Nikolaievna. Marie stared wistfully out the window on that dreary morning. She was hoping to catch a glimpse of that certain young man; the object of her latest crush. It was really too bad that she did not know his name, but that somehow did not seem to matter to her. Thinking about how handsome the young man was, and how strong his arms must be, Marie became oblivious to everything else; she did not notice her sister Olga’s presence until she had tapped Marie on the shoulder.
"Oh!" Marie said, startled, turning to see her elder sister there. Olga was in white, as was Marie, and the younger sister could not help but feel just a little jealous. Olga, the oldest of Marie’s siblings, was growing into a very lovely young woman. At eighteen, Olga stood tall and stately, with a natural grace (and slightly aloof attitude) of a queen or princess. Her chestnut blond hair was piled rather regally upon her head, which was held high upon a slender neck. While Olga was beautiful, Marie was merely pretty. The younger sister resembled a cherub; she was slightly plump, always smiling and had rosy red cheeks and bright, sparkling eyes. Those eyes were a dark blue and large enough to warrant the nickname of “Marie’s saucers.” Her light brown hair curled gently, framing her round cheeks, and was just long enough to have covered any wings a cherub may have had. Both Marie’s physical appearance and her loving demeanor had earned her the title of “our Angel.”
"Who are you pining after today, Mashka?" Olga teased, using Marie’s nickname. Marie was constantly picked on by her family for her numerous innocent infatuations, particularly with young officers of the Russian Imperial Army or the Guard’s Crew.
"No one." Marie said, blushing and turning away from the
window. She quickly shut the curtains behind her back and smiled at
her elder sister. "What are you doing in here? Surely you have to
finish your hairdo or something...” Marie tried, in vain, to
subtly coax Olga out of the room. I'm going to miss him if he comes
by, she thought to herself sadly.
"I just wanted say good morning to my sister! Besides, don't I look stunning enough already?" Olga laughed, twirling in her gown. She knew very well that Marie was desperately trying to expel her from the room without being forceful, but Olga found the nervous smile and perpetual blush on her sister’s face entirely too amusing to leave.
"You would look stunning... except for that nose of yours." As soon as she had said it, Marie covered her mouth and tried to surpress giggles. The look on Olga’s face was priceless, and even the angelic Marie could do nothing but laugh. Olga appeared un-amused. She put one hand on her hip and pointed at Marie with the other.
"Now, Mashka, I will not have you insulting my humble stub!" Olga managed to say with a straight face, but then started laughing. Olga’s stubby little nose was the one flaw in her classic beauty, and like Marie’s crushes, was a source of constant teasing from the family. Angelic Marie, despite knowing full well that Olga was always picked on for her “humble stub,” instantly felt awful for her comment.
"I'm sorry, Olishka darling." Marie said, trying to make up for it. "You do look stunning, as always." She added, as she averted her big blue eyes to the floor.
"I can take a hint, I'll leave..." Olga answered with a wink. Marie gently pushed her elder sister out of the room, and ran back to the window. Just as she was about to gingerly lift the curtain, a screech from the bathroom caught her attention.
