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Raspawtin

Anastasia had always loved to play hide-and-seek. Well, mostly she liked to_hide_ - the 'seek' part always seemed to happen organically, as servants or others noticed that she was missing and began hunting for her... though she'd found that, as of late, their search had lost a certain amount of intensity, and it often took them quite a while before they 'noticed' that she'd disappeared again. She didn't mind, though - it was the hiding she enjoyed. Being found usually just meant another stern talking-to about proper decorum for a Grand Duchess of the Russian Empire, and being escorted back to the room she shared with her older sister, Maria, so that she could get on with her studies, do needlework, and otherwise be _terribly_bored.

Fortunately, the Winter Palace was full of great hiding-spots, especially for a sleek young Ermine like her - she had to be careful that her snow-white fur didn't peek out, of course, but she'd only gotten better at that. From her hiding-spots, she would watch and listen as the Palace life carried on - overhearing the servants' gossip, the government ministers whispering in the corner, or even catch her older sisters, Olga and Tatiana, on their way to some appointment or assignment. At such times, she had to struggle to resist the urge to leap out as they passed and give them a scare - a struggle she did not always win.

She learned a great many things, as she peeped and eavesdropped from the various nooks and crannies she always managed to squeeze herself into - far more than she might have learned from her dull old tutors, she felt certain! The maids, in particular, were fountains of knowledge, forever gossiping while they worked, or at least pretended_to work. And the most _intriguing bits of information that passed between them usually concerned Rasputin - a close friend of her family.

Anastasia had known Rasputin for as long as she could remember. She dimly recalled him visiting the nursery when she was very little, and giving his blessing to all four of them. Even back then, she'd found him... scary, but also something else that she didn't know any words for. The tall, stately bat certainly looked intimidating, with his night-black wings draped about him like a ragged cloak, but his rodent-like face wasn't that strange, and his golden eyes... they burned with an intensity she hadn't seen in anyone else. That was where the other thing she didn't know what to call came from. Her mother, the Tsarina, called it 'holiness', but Anastasia wasn't sure if that was quite the right word.

Still, scary or not, he was their friend - that much was clear. He looked after her little brother, Alexei, the Tsesarevich, whom both of her parents doted on - he'd been terribly sick, once, and he was still easily fatigued and prone to bouts of illness, but he'd apparently improved much thanks to Rasputin's holy powers of healing. Considering all that, it had been really surprising to hear how the_servants_ spoke of him - seeing as they largely didn't seem to share the Empress' high regard for the tall, stern-faced bat.

Well,most of them didn't, anyway. She heard several servants quietly call him a 'mad monk' or a 'charlatan', claiming that her mother was 'wrapped around one of his creepy little claws'. A few of the maids, though, seemed to hold him in a rather different sort of regard, though. "Oh yes... he took the time to share a sermon_with me last night, out in the gardens..." she heard one cream-colored, thick-furred dog whisper to her colleague, a red squirrel with a huge, fluffy tail peeking out from under her skirt. Her friend seemed less than impressed though, rolling her eyes with a slight chitter. "You too? Unbelievable..." she muttered. "You _do realize you're just one among, what, probably_hundreds_ of femmes around Saint Petersburg, right? Nevermind that he's married! And it's not like he's going to help get you a raise or a cushy job somewhere..."

The dog, however, seemed unconcerned with these accusations, shaking her head vigorously enough to send her long, soft-looking ears flying. "That's not what it's about!" She declared, her voice rising a bit above their usual whispers. "He just... makes you feel like nothing else can. Wrapped in his wings, the cold of the Russian night just melts away - and you with it." A wistful expression appeared on her face as Anastasia peeked at her through the curtains she was hiding behind, and she sighed. "If I could but share his bed every night, I would ask for nothing else in this world - neither riches nor status."

She had paused in her work as she spoke, her feather-duster now clutched to her heaving bosom, while her squirrel-friend rolled her eyes and groaned. "Say what you will, but I think there's more to a male than how good he is in bed..." she declared. "Still, I guess no-one's ever accused the Empress of having poor taste, huh? Lucky her, having him around all the time like that..." She'd then shaken her canine friend out of her reverie, and quickly polished off the nearby dusting before moving on, heads close together, their whispers now out of Anastasia's hearing.

That exchange rather bothered her. What did beds have to do with anything? Sure, Rasputin's thick, black fur did look like it might be cozy to snuggle up to on a cold night, and those wings would probably work as a nice, heavy blanket... but it couldn't be that_great, could it? And what did her mother have to do with anything? Surely, _she slept together with Tsar Nicolai, her father - and it seemed unlikely that Rasputin frequently stayed the night like that, even if he did often stay over 'till well into the evening.

It wasn't the only time she'd overheard such things, though, and her confusion only grew. She couldn't ask anyone about it, though - then she'd have to admit that she'd been eavesdropping, which was apparently 'terribly unladylike', or so she'd been told on the few occasions she'd been caught at it. Thus, when she was seven, she decided it was time to investigate further. She'd overheard various references to Rasputin 'spending time' with her mother in her private study - and she knew some decent hiding-spots in there. So, the next time she heard her mother, the Empress Alexandra, excitedly mention that Their Friend would be coming by for a visit today, she snuck in there - hiding herself in a corner, behind a chair that usually stood against one of the room's tall bookshelves.

It was still early, though - she didn't want to take any chances this time, instinctively sensing that getting caught here would earn her a proper thrashing, so cutting it fine was out of the question. For a while, she crouched uncertainly behind the chair, in the empty room, wondering if her mother and Rasputin would actually show up at all. No doubt, they'd go to check on her little brother Alexei first... and then maybe a walk in the gardens, which her mother so loved to show off... something might draw them away before they even reached the point of retiring to the study!

Then the door creaked open, and she heard a grumbling servant enter to sweep out the room's fireplace, then stacking up fresh firewood there and lighting it - spreading a warm glow throughout the study even as the servant again retired, shutting the door firmly behind him. Relaxing, Anastasia settled down, finding a comfortable spot in the corner with her legs tucked in and her tail wrapped around them. If the fireplace had been lit, it meant that the room would soon be used. As it grew warmer and more comfortable, she found herself beginning to doze off, as she sometimes did while hiding - and since it'd likely still be some time before her targets arrived, she saw no reason to resist...

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PREVIEW ENDS - want to know what she'll see and learn in that room? Then check out the full story on my Discord-server, link is on the front page.