16

If Tatiana knew something, she didn't show it. The pressure of staring eyes and waiting for her snap or tease wasn't a new feeling at all. In fact, both girls had found a sport out of it as children- who could make the other snap first? Ana usually won, making her sister stalk off in a huff, but they weren't children anymore and as much as Ana wanted to deny it, things certainly had changed. She wasn't sure if she could play that game anymore.

"If you want to say something, just spit it out," Ana said, keeping her eyes trailed out of the window.

She had pushed herself to ride with Tatiana back to the house as her car was finished first. There was no chance of her staying behind longer and on her own when John Shelby was still in the house. She wouldn't think of him.

"Don't act like I wasn't there yesterday," Tatiana said.

"Don't act like I don't know why you were there too."

Tatiana couldn't help but laugh, making Ana scowl. "That's funny. I saw the look on John Shelby's face. Poor boy was hurt."

"He's not a child. He's done enough shit in his life to know how to take care of himself," Ana said.

They were silent for a moment and Ana braced herself for what she knew her sister would snap back with. She had shut her down at all. Tatiana was smiling, her eyebrows raising in surprise.

"That doesn't mean you're not too involved."

"What makes you think I'm too involved?" Ana said, her voice wobbling from anger at the end.

"We were close once."

Tatiana's words made Ana swiftly turn to look at her. They had been close, but not in the way that phrase would usually mean. They understood each other. There personalities were similar, they hated the same people, wanted similar things.

"Things have changed."

She could no longer say they were close. Tatiana wanted power, Ana could see that much from the way she hung around Tommy more than she had any other man at home. At one time, Ana would have said she wanted the same. But now, she wasn't sure. She just wanted to do the right thing, whether that was good or bad, it wouldn't ever matter.

"I see the way you look at him. It was like you wanted to reach to him, but if you did, he'd be too far," Tatiana said, and Ana snorted.

"You'd never make a poet."

"Don't joke, Anastasiya," her sister snapped.

"I thought we were past that," she growled through gritted teeth. She hated the way she used her full name to draw out an answer.

"Apparently not. Not if you can't tell me a truth that I already know."

"Alright! Fine. I admit it." She wasn't sure what she was admitting to, but she knew it was the truth either way. "How is it different to Thomas, his brother, with you?"

She expected Tatiana to turn and glare at her, to snap and order her not to mention the man. But she did no such thing. She was amused, unaffected, and Ana was almost jealous.

"I have no emotion with him," she said. "You have too much sister."

"Don't you think I already know, Tatiana. I know." Her voice settled. "It scares me."

She spoke the truth.

"Be like the old Ana. The Ana who would sooner cut at him than look at him twice. The old Ana wouldn't have cared, wouldn't have been affected."

"The old Ana was left out. Used," she snapped, but Tatiana chuckled icily.

"Not anymore."

"I understand." Ana nodded. "Why do you think he looked so kicked?"

The image of John's shock played over in her head. He had looked hurt as if she had betrayed him with her words. But then she remembered last night, of the darkness that had over come his features as she let him in, ran her hands down his back. He looked blissful, relieved actually. She wouldn't talk of that night.

They eventually stepped out of the card, sliding out onto the driveway and setting there way to the front door of their Aunt's house. Before she could open the door, Tatiana patted Ana's cheek. The action reminded her of their grandmother.

"That's my baby sister," Tatiana said, as she lead them into the house. "You know Petrovna blood cannot love."

"You know that isn't true, Tatiana." Their mother stepped out into the hallway, making Tatiana scoff. "I am Petrovna, and I love my daughters."

"You are no Petrovna. You and Aunt may have married into the same family, but she was made for it. You are not Petrovna as we are," Tatiana barked, a snarl on her lips as she glared at her mother.

"Anastasiya."

Tatiana stepped in front of her sister. "You don't love us, stop lying."

"Stop deceiving us, Tatiana. I love you more than life." Ekaterina chose to step back, staring coldly at her daughter.

"You love your own life more than anything. You're lying to us about something," she said.

"Perhaps it is not me who is lying. But it is dear Ana who is being lied to," her mother turned to her, letting her face drop into a soft frown as she beckoned her to move to the library, where they had sat for tea once.

"Don't listen to her," Tatiana hissed.

"Stop it. Stop it, both of you." Ana was sick of it. "I will not listen to it. I am back to how I always was. That means no more sides, no more deceit."

Both her mother and her sister's face dropped. Her jaw was clenched. She felt like she was being pulled apart from each side.

"Petrovnas do not love, we survive," Ana said. "And that means I will listen to myself, not either of you."

She left them in silence at the bottom of the stairs as she moved toward the library. The musty smell of the old pages greeted her as she entered the empty room. It was unused, still untouched and sparkling new as it always had been.

It didn't take another minute from when she sat down, for her mother to burst in, sliding herself into the seat opposite.

"Darling, Ana. You do love me," Ekaterina begged. The false softness made Ana feel sick.

"Stop playing me, mama," she muttered, her head turned to look out of the window. It was dreary outside, as it almost always was, and even that would have been more pleasant that the dense feeling in the room. "Tatiana is right. I am being lied to."

Ekaterina sighed, keeping her voice small. "I didn't lie to you, my darling, I just didn't tell you. I wanted to wait until the right time."

"Which is now," Ana insisted.

Her mother paused before she spoke. "Your Aunt and Uncle are lying to you. I know because they lied to me too." Ana didn't know whether to believe her or not. "They don't want to help us to be able to go home one day. They want to use the stolen jewel for themselves."

Her reasons couldn't be right, surely?

"No, that's not true. They trust me now. They're buying weapons."

"They're deceiving Tommy Shelby," her mother pressed, his name felt foreign coming from her lips.

"So what do you want?" There had to be something.

"I want to steal the jewels back. To use them for good."

Of course, her mother couldn't have come to England just for her daughters, or their safety. There was always something else. Always something to further their name in some way. They were all the same. Always would be. But still, Ana would listen.

"I need to tell you something, my dearest." Ekaterina kneeled in front of her daughter, her hands encasing one of Ana's. "At home, there is a man waiting for me. He is not your father, but he loves me."

"He will help us in this fight."

Ana's silence hadn't been expected. But she already knew about her mother's affair, even when her father had still been alive. Tatiana knew too. It wasn't exactly a secret.

"You used to speak about him, if I can remember. Tatiana hated it," she said.

She couldn't remember his name, but she remembered his face. She would see him around the house, for business, was always the reasoning, but the sisters always knew. The man was in no way attractive: his hair was a dirty grey, his face sagged with age and misery, and his voice was deep and drawling. He had nothing against their father. There must have been something of him that her mother wanted.

"But you need to help me do this," her mother shook her hand pleadingly.

Ana shook her bead. "I don't know if I can."

"They trust you."

"That's not what I mean," Ana said.

It wasn't that she didn't have the capability to do it, because she did- she could easily steal the jewels. Ana didn't think she had the want to do it, a good reason or the trust in her mother to do it. It was better her mother thought her wary than unsure of her family.

"I will give you time, my dear," Ekaterina said, and she left the room.

Ana had to think about it.

Could her mother be telling the truth? She wouldn't be surprised if her Aunt and Uncle were just searching for a way to get money, rather than help with the revolution in any single way. But did she trust her mother? What would she even use the jewels for? And the priest, what was his stance in all of this?

The questions were whirling around in her brain so fast that it ached. She held a hand to her head, feeling the flush of her skin. She would have to think fast.

𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔, 𝚒𝚖 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚒𝚝! 𝚡