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Anastasia was now looking in the direction of Aleksey’s room, and Marie took this opportunity to quietly walk back to her precious window. She apparently was not quiet enough; Anastasia heard Marie sneaking off and whipped around, her strawberry-blond hair swirling around her grinning face.

"And where are you going?" She asked Marie, as if she had some authority over her elder sister.

"Uh, nowhere, Nastya darling, just to the window, to, uh... See if it is still raining." Marie stammered. Anastasia did not appear to believe that story. She thought for a moment then grinned.

"Tatiana says you've got a new boyfriend."

"I do not..." Marie said defensively, blushing again. "He's just..."

“Mashka’s got a boyfriend! Mashka’s got a boyfriend!” Anastasia sang merrily. "Another soldier, right?" She asked, rushing to the window. "What's he look like?"

"Nastya, really..." Marie began, gently prying her away from the window before she could draw back the curtain. "it doesn't matter..."

"Mashka!" The two sisters heard Tatiana yell. "Do you have my brush?!" Marie and Anastasia simply stared at each other; Marie was dying to look out the window but knowing that Anastasia’s teasing would only intensify if she dared.

"My brush, Marie Nikolaievna!" Tatiana called again. Anastasia looked from Marie to the window and back again, and then sighed.

“I know where it is, Tatiana!” Anastasia finally yelled back. “I’ll go get it!” She started to run off towards the bathroom, but then turned and looked back at Marie. Anastasia puckered up her lips and closed her eyes tightly, in a mock kiss. Marie chose to ignore her.

With Anastasia gone, Marie returned to her window and pulled back the curtain. There, marching with the rest of the guard on Palace Street, was her soldier. Her Imperial Highness, Grand Duchess Marie Nikolaievna Romanova, stared dreamily at her crush. Little did the young man know that the third daughter of Tsar Nicholas II was watching his every move. A smile spread across the face of the Russian princess as she watched the handsome figure march. As the soldier and his comrades marched out of sight, the not-quite-fourteen-year-old Grand Duchess blew him a gentle kiss from this window of the Winter Palace. “I’ll see you tomorrow...” She whispered. The Grand Duchess turned from her spot at the window, and slowly closed the curtain. She could not stand at the window all day, after all, today was the 300th anniversary of her family’s rule of Russia.