After our morning classes were over, Geoffrey managed to escape his obsessive girlfriend and walked me to the cafeteria. He looked very embarrassed that I had seen him with his possessive girlfriend.

"I'm sorry that you had to see that," he apologized in a quiet voice.

I stared at him, surprised, before I frantically shook my head, cutting his apology off.

"There's no need to be sorry. It's not your fault."

"I just hate that she's obsessed with me," Geoffrey ranted. "Just because she's pretty doesn't mean that she can control everything in front of her."

I gave him a confused look.

"Then why don't you break up with her if she's getting on your nerves?"

Geoffrey winced, his face turning a bright shade of pink.

"It's not that easy, Stacey. Vivienne can get a bit. . . . violent if you don't agree with her or if you don't do as she says."

"No wonder she's possessive," I said with a giggle. I then turned serious. "But, really. You've got to break up with her soon, if you want to get out of this unhealthy relationship."

"I know. But it's not gonna be easy, I'll tell you that."

Before I could say anything, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around and saw another girl that I didn't recognize. She had light-brown hair and hazel eyes. She smiled at us.

"Mind if I join you?" she asked. I noticed that the girl had a thick German accent. She gave me a toothy grin as she spoke.

"Nathalie!" said Geoffrey. He had a bright grin on his face. "Good to see you. Where have you been all morning?"

"I had a dentist appointment," she answered. She then looked bitter, her shoulders slouching. "Unfortunately, they're saying that I'll need braces soon."

"Dang, man," said Geoffrey as he shook his head. "That must suck."

Nathalie grinned.

"Tell me about it. But, the good news is, they're allowing me to get diamonds in my braces."

"Diamonds, huh? That must be very expensive."

"Yeah, but both my parents and insurance will be able to cover for it," she said, waving his comment aside.

Geoffrey turned in my direction and introduced me to Nathalie.

"Stacey, this is Nathalie Saxe-Coburg, heir to the Belgian throne."

"Hi, nice to meet you," I said. I stuck my hand out and she shook it.

"Finally nice to meet the future queen of Russia, as well," she added.

"Oh, trust me, Nathalie. I'm not ready for that just yet," I said with a laugh.

We got into the line for lunch and eventually made our way to our tables. Seconds later, Rosalie appeared, forcing me and Geoffrey apart to the point she nearly sat on him. Geoffrey looked quite embarrassed, looking anywhere else but her.

"Vivienne, please," he said in a frustrated voice. "Not here. I'm trying to eat my lunch. And I can't exactly eat my food while you're sitting on my lap."

Vivienne pouted. This time, she did as he requested, and got off his lap. But unfortunately for me, she forced herself in between the two of us to the point she nearly shoved me off the bench. I sighed with impatience and looked away.

                                                                                     .｡*ﾟ+.*.｡ ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+

I collapsed on my bed after dinner, clearly exhausted from both today, and what all was on my mind. But slowly, during the night, I could hear voices waking me up. But at first, I thought they were from my dream.

"Anastasia, dear," said an adult female's voice. The voice sounded soothing, though it didn't sound familiar at all. "We need you to wake up."

"Wake up, Anastasia! We need to talk to you!" a young, male's voice insisted.

"You need to listen to us, Anastasia," another young female's voice added. "We need to tell you something important!"

Slowly, I began to stir awake. Once I had woken up, I turned to face the edge of my bed, and almost screamed. Instead, I scrambled over to the back of my bed in shock, staring at the pale, translucent ghosts in disbelief. They looked oddly familiar. But then, my eyes widened.

Hold up! Aren't they —?

"Don't be afraid, dear child," said the adult female. Once my eyesight had thoroughly adjusted, I could see that the female one who had been speaking looked like Alexandra Romanov, the mother of the five children.

"Who. . . . Who are you?" I asked, though I knew very clearly who they were.

The five dead family members glanced at each other.

"You don't remember?" said the youngest. He was a boy, around thirteen years old. His voice sounded grave, and still developing. His voice cracked in between words because he was still growing. "We're your ancestors. I'm Alexei, and I was supposed to be the next Tsar of Russia, before the Bolsheviks attacked on that fateful night."

A sudden chill ran through my body. The murder of the Romanovs still sent chills down my spine every time it was talked about. Suddenly, without warning, tears began to stream down my cheeks.

Why was I crying? I shouldn't be crying over something stupid. I wasn't even involved in the shooting of my family.

The family glanced at each other, looking concerned. Even Anastasia, who never really felt sorry for anyone, looked saddened by my sudden reaction.

"Why are you crying, dear child?" Alexandrina asked. She kept her voice calm, probably to not make me any more anxious than I was now.

"Sorry," I answered through my tears. I tried desperately to wipe them away with the back of my hands. "I've heard of your story. You didn't deserve it. You didn't deserve the brutal demise you got."

"You shouldn't be sorry, dear," said Alexandrina. "It was not your fault."

"I know," I replied. I sniffled, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. "But you guys are my family, and it just seems almost. . . . surreal to even think about what happened." I paused, making sure to take a good look at each of my family member's ghosts. "Which Romanov survived? And are the rumors true?"

"What rumors, dear?" said Alexander. He had a deep voice. A voice that sounded soft-spoken and calming.

"There are rumors that one of you guys survived. Mama won't even talk about the six of you because of how bad your past was."

The six of them glanced at each other.

"Me," Anastasia finally answered. She grinned, though at the same time, she looked a little guilty.

"And me," said Alexei.

"I had a feeling that it was one of the younger ones," I said. I sat criss-crossed on the soft, plush bed and put my chin on my hands.

"Yes," said Anastasia. "I lived in hiding somewhere away from Russia, where I had two more children of my own. I never told anybody about myself. Of course, our murders were a shock to everyone around the world. I hid in an abbey in Czechoslovakia. There, the nuns of the abbey raised me and kept my identity a secret, until World War Two was about to begin. Then, I fled to America. Once I was sure that it was safe, I moved back to Russia under another identity. I was older, more mature than I had been before. So no one really noticed, unless you looked really closely."

My face fell when I remembered what Mama said about my Papa.

"Papa was assassinated," I said in a quiet voice. I avoided any eye contact with all of the ghosts. "Just a few months before I was born. And I now know why Mama doesn't like talking about our past, because of how grim and brutal it was."

"She had the right to be upset," Tatiana piped up. It was the first time I heard her speak up.

"I know. But I wished that she told me beforehand. But she told me she didn't want the paparazzi or the assassins to be after me, either. Just like they were with Papa." I paused, wondering why the heck these spirits were here. If they weren't here to answer questions about the past, they must be here for something else. "Can I ask you something?" I finally asked, though I was hesitant.

"Anything, dear cousin," Olga replied. She was the eldest out of the five children.

"I have a feeling that you are not here to discuss the past family affairs. What are you all really here for?"

This seemed to have caught the five off guard.

"Well, we were actually here to give you a warning," the girl who looked a tiny bit older than Anastasia, replied. She had gorgeous big eyes. And I was pretty sure that her eyes were once blue. Her hair was up in a half ponytail, and definitely early 1900s style. Her full lips were tilted upwards into a nervous smile.

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

"Warning? What warning?"

"Watch out for Vivienne Anjou, dear," Anastasia replied. "She's becoming quite a threat."

"What will happen if Geoffrey decides to break up with her?" I asked anxiously.

Although I didn't want to ask that question, I knew that I wanted answers.

"Whatever it is, it'll be nothing good," Alexei replied, sighing heavily. "We know he wants to break up with her. But at this point, it seems nearly impossible for him to

"We know that he's an innocent kid, Stacey," Tsarina Alexandrina added gravely. "If anything bad happens to him, we know who's behind the attack."

"And she's after the British throne, and the royal family's riches," Olga added.

"She wants to marry Geoffrey just for that?" I asked. I couldn't help but give a snort of laughter of disbelief. "I know she's controlling, but is she really that controlling?"

"Apparently so, dear cousin," Alexei answered.

"Just look after him, and you will be greatly rewarded," Tsarina Alexandrina added.

"Rewarded?" I echoed, surprised. "Rewarded, how?"

Tsar Alexander's russet brown eyebrows raised slightly. Despite their transparent appearance, I could see faint colors showing through.

"You'll see," he answered mysteriously.

"We've got to go now, dear cousin!" Alexei piped up. "But we're sure that we'll see you again, soon!"

"Soon?" I echoed.

I didn't know what 'soon' meant. Days? Weeks? Months? Years? In Heaven when I die?

"What do you mean by 'soon'?"

"When you've succeeded with everything, dear," Tsarina Alexandrina replied.

"How will I know when that will be?" I asked anxiously.

"You will know. We promise."

"We've got to go now, dear cousin," said Olga. "But you'll see us again soon."

And with that, their ghostly appearances began to fade until they'd completely disappeared altogether.