───── ❝ Chapter Three❞ ────

Anne awoke to the sound of rustling papers, her eyes fluttering open to an unfamiliar ceiling. She lay on a soft, luxurious bed, the ermine-lined velvet against her skin a stark contrast to the cold wood of the scaffold she last remembered. The warmth from a nearby hearth seeped into her bones, dispelling the remnants of her agony.

As she took in the opulent surroundings—a grand bedchamber adorned with rich tapestries and gilded furnishings—she realized the transformation was complete. Her heart raced as she tried to make sense of it all.

A figure approached, casting a shadow in the dimly lit room. It took her a moment to recognize the person, not as Anne, but as Adieya. She was no longer Anne Boleyn; she was Adieya now. The realization was both thrilling and terrifying.

"Good morning, Empress. How are you feeling today?" the figure asked, her voice soft and familiar.

Adieya sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as a sudden pain shot through her neck. Instinctively, her hand flew to the source. "I am well, Galina. Just a slight pain in my neck."

The room flooded with morning sunlight, revealing its ornate gilded walls and plush velvet furnishings. Adieya gasped as she discovered she could understand and speak Russian—a language unknown to her as Anne Boleyn. In the jumble of thoughts, she realized the woman in front of her was her principal lady-in-waiting and close friend.

Galina's concern was palpable as she moved closer. "I will get you something for your pain. Was it the nightmares again?"

For a moment, Adieya was lost, unable to comprehend Galina's words. Then, a flood of painful memories rushed through her mind, causing her body to shudder and tears to gather in her eyes. "I can't seem to stop them, and they hurt so much. When will they be over?"

As the pain of the person she now inhabited washed over her, Anne realized that Adieya's childhood filled with suffering and hardship had shaped her into the strong ruler she was. She knew Adieya still bore emotional scars from the violent deaths of her father and brother. Anne felt Adieya's lingering grief mingling with her traumatic memories.

"I know they hurt, especially with our upcoming trip. The memories must be even harder to bear," Galina sympathized, giving Adieya's hand a reassuring squeeze. "You are strong, my lady. Stronger than you know."

Adieya felt heartened by her lady's steadfast support. She took a deep breath, composing herself before the tasks of the day.

Adieya froze, unsure of what to say or the destination of where they were going. "Where are we going again, Galina? The nightmares seem to have clouded my head," she admitted.

"It's alright, it happens sometimes. Especially after last night, you were thrashing around and nothing we did would wake you up. Anyways we're leaving for our short trip to Denmark within the hour. We'll be there for a few weeks before we travel to England." Galina reassured.

She stood from the bed and walked over to a nearby table that held a silver jug of cool water. After filling an ornate goblet, Galina walked over and set it on the stand next to Adieya. The crystal water caught the sunlight, scattering little rainbows around the room.

Adieya let out a sigh, briefly engulfed in silence as she collected her turbulent thoughts. She knew this trip to England would be pivotal, though its outcome remained uncertain. "Alright, I will be up shortly," she finally replied, her voice filled with a hint of mystery and confusion. After all, she had just been reborn, and the path ahead was shrouded in uncertainty.

Adieya grabbed the goblet and slowly drank the refreshing water, savoring the cool liquid. It was interesting as in England there was never much drinkable water available, so most people drank wine to rouse themselves in the mornings.

Lost in the flood of memories that merged with her mind, one stayed prominent - the night her brother was assassinated at a lavish ball. She could still hear the screams, and see the blood soaking her brother's suit as he gasped his final breath.

The young Grand Duchess of Russia jumped out of bed, filled with panic at the sound of screams and the abrupt end to the music from the ballroom below.

"Where is the Emperor?!" a muffled yet clear voice shouted.

Quickly she opened the door to her chamber and snuck out into the halls. After seeing no one was around the young Duchess of just three years of age ran through the castle to the stairwell that led to the ballroom. To hide from anyone that might look to the stairwell she moved to the shadows, close enough to the wall she would not be spotted, but far enough to see everything in the room.

Emperor Nicholas stood abruptly from his throne at the sound of the voice and walked to the edge of the dais that held the thrones. It was missing Adieya's, as very few people in the castle and much less the people of Russia knew of her existence. But that voice was familiar to her father, she could see it in her father's eyes. While he never expressed his emotions on his face around his nobles, if you looked closely and knew what to look for, his eyes showed everything.

"Damyon, please, don't do this!" His voice broke as he pleaded. The man in front of him was someone he did not want to fight, but if it meant keeping his family, fight he would.

"And why should I not? You have betrayed Russia. The people are dying, starving, and scared. And yet here you are throwing lavish balls for the rich and titled. But in your people's worst times, you leave them to fend for themselves. The people will no longer watch as their friends die beside them. Do something, or the people will do something instead."

"Please, Damyon, I am doing all I can. as quickly as I can. I know the people are desperate, but I can only do so much!"

"But it's not enough!" Damyon yelled, tired of all the excuses he had been given through the years. "We all are tired of waiting for your promises! Promises that have never been fulfilled! The people have been talking. Something I also have been wondering. Where is your loyalty to Russia to its people?"

Nicholas calmly replied, "I am loyal to every person who calls Russia home, but loyalty must be returned. Why must I be loyal to you if you are not loyal to me? Do you keep true loyalty Damyon?"

"I am loyal to Russia, you may be her ruler, but I refuse to acknowledge your loyalty to Russia. Russia doesn't need another like you. Maybe this will teach you a lesson."

Damyon raised his arm, a hidden pistol now revealed in his hand. Nicholas's eyes widened when he saw the gun. And then the shot rang out. There was silence for only a single moment as time stopped. Damyon watched as the single bullet pierced its victim, but within a second of it hitting its mark, Damyon ran out the door he had come through. Suddenly everything became real once more.

Emperor Nicholas looked down to see if the bullet had hit him, but he felt no pain.

"Otets." Father.

He looked over to his only son. Alexei's hand was red covering the middle part of his ribs, but the red was quickly spreading through his clothes. He fell to the ground as the pain became too much. As soon as people noticed that the Tsarevich had been shot, all hell broke loose. People were screaming, crying, and running around the room as the guards tried to the everyone calm and out of the room so the Tsarevich could be tended to.

Slowly but surely physicians arrived to help the quickly bleeding out Alexei. But it was too late. Alexei's lips moved to say one last word as he spent his last breath. Adieya knew she couldn't say anything but as tears rolled down her cheeks someone pulled on her arm. "We got her, let's go, he's waiting for her outside."

Adieya shuddered, pushing the gruesome images away.

Galina's voice punctuated the silence, pulling her back to the present. "This just arrived from England," she said, waving a piece of paper. "It's a letter from Charles. He's anxious about Mary since the harlot is carrying another child."

Mary - Catherine's daughter - echoed in Adieya's mind. She had to negotiate this delicate friendship without faltering. As she read the letter, she realized Charles Brandon's persistent presence and balancing her relationship with Mary, who had been an adversary in her past life, was a change filled with anticipation. From Catherine's account, she sensed that Mary and Charles needed her more than she realized.

"Our priority should be Mary's safety upon our arrival. She is in a vulnerable position. King Henry wouldn't care if anything happened to her now," Adieya said pensively. "When do we set sail, Galina?"

"Within the hour, Adieya. I understand the importance of Mary and Charles in your life, and your intent to guard them."

As Adieya finished dressing, her ladies-in-waiting fussed and fluttered around her. She appreciated their dedication but sometimes wished for a moment of solitude. As if reading her mind, Galina shooed the other ladies away to finish the packing.

Finally, alone, Adieya wandered to the window overlooking the sea. The cries of swooping gulls mixed with the crashing waves below. She said a silent prayer for the journey ahead and the role she must play. However daunting the task, she would not show weakness.

A soft knock at the door broke the silence. Adieya turned to see a young kitchen maid entering with a covered tray. "Your morning tea, Your Majesty," the girl squeaked with a clumsy curtsy.

Adieya smiled gently at the flustered girl. "Thank you. Please set it there."

As the maid prepared the ornate samovar and porcelain tea cups, Adieya made polite small talk, hoping to set the girl at ease. She learned the maid's name was Katya and this was her first week working in the palace. By the time Katya made her exit, the girl's nervousness had faded into a shy smile.

Adieya settled into a plush chair and inhaled the tea's aromatic bergamot scent. The hot liquid warmed her as she mentally prepared for the pivotal journey ahead. So much weighed upon this trip to England - old ghosts, new alliances, and Russia's place in European affairs. She sent up another prayer for wisdom and discernment with each soothing sip.

The toll of a distant bell echoed as Adieya set down her empty teacup. She knew preparations would be swift for their departure to Denmark. Her connection with the English nobles and the precarious position Mary Tudor held was common knowledge among the castle's staff. The urgency of their mission was reflected in the hustle of servants loading trunks and supplies onto the ship bound for Denmark.

Soon after, Galina and the other ladies burst into the room, signaling Adieya to finish getting ready. They moved rapidly, each aware of her role and the gravity of their situation. More than mere servants, these women were Adieya's trusted confidantes - fiercely loyal and privy to her secrets. The entire castle staff was aware of Adieya's harrowing past, a past the Russian populace remained ignorant of. They knew the importance of the sole surviving heir to the Romanov line - the little girl who witnessed her brother's brutal murder. Even retired staff members passed these stories down, heightening the air of suspense and importance surrounding Adieya's journey.

Amid the bustling activity, Adieya maintained her composure, betraying none of the turmoil roiling within. Outwardly she exuded the image of an elegant, unruffled empress - the role she was born to play.

Today her ladies adorned her in a bright crimson gown embellished with intricate golden flowers. A delicate satin cape cascaded from her shoulders, and rubies glittered at her throat and wrists. As her ladies secured the jewel-encrusted kokoshnik tiara atop her dark locks, Adieya assessed her reflection in the full-length mirror. The vision gazing back portrayed none of the lingering trauma and uncertainty she harbored within. Here stood a powerful empress, regal and self-possessed.

The morning was marked by an unusual silence, interrupted only by occasional inquiries about the perfect fit of Adieya's travel attire. She could hear seagulls cawing outside, and suddenly a black raven swooped down onto the window ledge, poking his head inside her chambers. Shock filled her, as it was almost as if the glossy bird knew she had died as Anne Boleyn and been reborn into this role.

As soon as Adieya's ladies approved her travel ensemble, they took their leave, although Galina stayed behind for a few private words.

"Are you certain you're prepared to face them, Adieya?" Galina inquired, her eyes radiating concern.

"I will endure whatever comes, Galina. Mary needs me, and I cannot turn my back on her in her time of peril. If confronting ghosts from my past is required, I shall meet that test."

A look of admiration shone on Galina's face as she squeezed Adieya's hand gently. "No matter the storms ahead, I will remain at your side."

Comforted by her steadfast friend's devotion, Adieya proceeded with her head held high to the council chambers. As they traversed the grand corridors, liveried guards and courtiers alike bowed in profound reverence to their esteemed empress. Though she had not yet reached her twentieth-seventh year, none could deny Adieya's undeniable power and acumen. She commanded awe and deference in any setting she entered.

Upon arriving at the engraved mahogany doors of the council chambers, the sentries swiftly pulled them open, compelling all within to stand respectfully. As Adieya took her seat at the head of the long table, she noted anxiety and anticipation etched on the weathered faces of her advisors.

"Rise and be seated, councilmen. Let us commence this meeting with haste. I recognize of our collective busy schedules on this eventful day, but what matters require my attention before departure?" Adieya declared.

A chorus of "Imperatritsa" or Empress echoed around the chamber as the men resumed their seats.

For the next hour, Adieya listened and ruled on various issues of state - grain shipments, military fortifications, and a proposed university. Throughout it all, she maintained an air of imperial command that Anne Boleyn would have envied. None could detect the lost soul she felt inside.

Only Galina, standing unobtrusively in the corner, noticed the subtle signals of Adieya's discomfort - the white-knuckle grip on her chair, the tension along her jawline, the fleeting shadows in her eyes. But she held her tongue, having pledged secrecy; long ago about her beloved friend's past.

Though accustomed to state affairs from a young age, Adieya sensed tension and worry permeating the room that unnerved even her practiced composure. What apprehensions weighed upon their minds? She resolved to discover the source of their disquiet before embarking.

"Gentlemen, I detect an air of gravity exceeding the ordinary in this chamber," Adieya began. "As your empress, I would know what fresh concerns trouble your thoughts on this morn? Please speak plainly, for time is scarce."

The advisors exchanged uneasy glances until the eldest among them found his voice. "We beg your forgiveness, Imperial Majesty. Anxiety gnaws at us regarding your imminent travels abroad. England seethes with religious and political upheavals. Its king's volatile temper has long been a legend. What assurance can we expect for your welfare in that nest of vipers?"

Murmured words of agreement echoed around the long table. Adieya raised a hand for silence, carefully weighing how to respond. As empress, she understood her counselors' protective instincts, yet her refusal to make the journey was impossible. Mary Tudor's life likely hung in the balance, and Adieya owed a debt from her previous existence.

"My lords, your concern speaks well of your loyalty, and I thank you for it," Adieya began slowly. "Yet as Russia's sovereign, my duty compels me to undertake this mission, notwithstanding the hazards. I will rely upon your wisdom and my wits to navigate England's tangled politics. While in disguise I eluded enemies before - I shall do so again if needed to shield Russian interests."

Her oblique reference to the threats in her childhood provoked nervous whispers around the table. After a weighty pause, the advisors collectively bowed their heads. "You will, will be done, Imperatritsa. We commend your safety to Soter's hands and trust in your discernment."

Satisfied she had reassured them sufficiently, for now, Adieya rose to take her leave. "Until we reconvene then, my lords. Rule sagely and justly for our people while I am abroad."

As Adieya and Galina departed the council chamber, the young empress breathed deep in relief. Handling the well-meaning but overprotective noblemen was the first challenge of many facing her. But she had given them a glimpse of the steely mettle behind her graceful exterior - enough to halt further objections, she hoped.

As Adieya took her leave of the men and made for the castle gates with Galina, the toll of bells echoed through the frigid air. Liveried drivers held open the doors of an ornate troika carriage hitched to three spirited horses. Galina entered first, then turned to assist Adieya. But as the Empress gazed back at the soaring white towers of the palace, she felt an unexpected pang in her heart - a longing for the only home she could recall.

Sensing her hesitation, Galina squeezed her hand gently. "I cannot fathom what you feel inside, my dearest friend," she whispered so only Adieya could hear. "But I vow to stay ever at your side, no matter the storms we face."

Comforted by her steadfast loyalty, Adieya lifted her chin and entered the carriage with her head held high. But as the horses lurched forward and the scenery began sliding past in a frozen white blur, trepidation still whispered darkly in her mind.

The next hours flew by as Adieya bid her family and homeland farewell for the coming months. Flanked by her small group of hand-picked attendants, she set foot upon the majestic ship destined for Denmark's friendly shores. There she would rest and regroup before crossing the Channel into England's serpentine court.

Standing on the polished deck as the vessel slid away from the dock, Adieya kept her gaze fixed on Russia's fading coastline. She whispered one more prayer into the biting sea wind and felt Galina squeeze her arm supportively. Come what may in that pit of vipers, she would not falter with her loyal company to steady her. Anne Boleyn's tragedy would not be Adieya's fate - she vowed it with every fiber of her being. Her destiny awaited across the waves, and the remains of Anne drifted away, leaving only memories.