March 7, 1929. St. Petersburg Railway Station. A train carrying hundreds of passengers stopped as it arrived at the terminal.
The door opened and the chilly breeze of the city welcomed them.
One of the passengers of the train was Rolan, who wore a conspicuous suit that consisted of the traditional uniform of the Chief of Staff of the Imperial Guards of the Winter Palace. He carried luggage in both of his hands. For others, it looked heavy but to him, it was just as light as a feather.
People around him immediately noticed his presence and appearance, as he had appeared a lot on television, standing behind the Emperor of the Ruthenia Empire.
Of course, despite getting unwanted attention from the people around him, he still walked with his usual stride without faltering. He could tell that the others were looking at him from time to time but didn't bother acknowledging their gazes. Unless his guts were implying something.
It didn't take long for him to exit the terminal. The moment he did so, he immediately looked upward, gazing at the sky and smelling the breeze passing by him.
At last, he has returned home. This means he can now return to work as the Emperor's personal bodyguard after five months. He extended his leave for one more month as there were things that needed his attention. But now, everything is settled.
He returned his gaze back to what was in front of him and noticed a vehicle pulling up near him. With just a glance, he can tell that it's a vehicle from the Winter Palace. The royal family's armored vehicle, the Beast.
If that vehicle is here, that means. Rolan observed his surroundings and noticed the presence of the Imperial Guards as well as the Foreign Intelligence Services disguised as civilians. They were all looking at him with scrutinizing eyes as if they were already expecting him to come out of the railway station.
Judging from their numbers, Rolan can tell easily that it's not the emperor welcoming him back. The forces deployed in the station are plenty and wouldn't be able to counter a coordinated attack from terrorists or foreign syndicates.
So if it's not the emperor then who is coming? Rolan could only wonder about such thoughts. Well, he'll know the answer to that as soon as the Beast stops right in front of him—.
The Beast's wheels stopped rolling and the moment it did, the door opened, revealing a person inside. A woman, with silver hair flowing gently down her shoulders and dressed in an elegant, Victorian white dress. Her dignified expression is enough information for him to deduce that the person in front is one of the Grand Duchesses of the Ruthenia Empire. Her Imperial Highness, Christina Romanoff.
Rolan gulped as the memories of them together flitted through his mind. It was one of his embarrassing moments in his life as his brother, the revered emperor of the Ruthenia Empire almost caught them doing what he shouldn't do to a Grand Duchess.
"Rolan, welcome back," Christina's voice softly said, prompting him to snap out of his daze. "Have you been waiting outside for so long?"
"No, Your Majesty. I just arrived at the station," he answered politely, inclining his head to her in greeting. As expected, she returned the gesture, a small smile tugging on the corner of her lips. Rolan couldn't help but notice that she was even more beautiful than before, making his heart skip a beat once again. Oh no, he shouldn't think such things. Is an adopted commoner having such romantic thoughts with the Grand Duchess? Not acceptable.
"You should come inside and warm yourself up. The air outside is freezing you know? Christina offered, patting her hand on the seat next to her and gestured for Rolan to sit.
Rolan tilted his head up, looking at the princess. What is this unusual scenario? A princess asking him to sit next to her? This is beyond his understanding. Yes, there are instances where they are close to one another such as offering her a drink in Moskva and going along with him as he looked for a unit in an under-construction skyscraper, but those are just precautions to protect her from unwanted threats. There's no hint of intimacy that sparked between them—Oh, there is one.
"Really, Your Imperial Highness?" Rolan asked once more, wanting to make sure that he heard her right.
"Yes. I personally came here to pick you up anyways. Let the guards handle your luggage and sit next to me," Christina replied, emphasizing each word as if the mere idea of someone sitting beside her was nothing.
For Rolan, it sounded like an order. So, he complied, handing his luggage to the Imperial Guards who approached him before sitting in the vacant seat next to her. He closed the door and placed his hands on his lap. His fingers tapped atop it lightly, feeling awkward and shy. He glanced cursorily at Christina, looking relaxed, a complete emotion from him. Has she already forgotten the thing?
"Uhm...Your Imperial Highness. I did not expect that you would pick me up personally. I'm honored," Rolan bowed to her again.
"Don't mind it, you are our family's shield. This much is nothing. In fact, I asked my brother if I can pick you up myself. Because you know, no one seems to take the initiative. Though don't think of it in a negative way, my sisters are excited to see you again. They are preparing a banquet to celebrate your return."
Rolan's mouth hung open slightly, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The royal family going out of their way just to receive him back to the Winter Palace? This is beyond unexpected. Why are they making such an effort to a man who decided to leave them in the air because he thought he had failed to protect them? It was shameless of him to do that and he realized it while he was on his way back to St. Petersburg.
"Uhm...Your Imperial Highness...aren't you all pushing it this far? Why are you investing so much effort to welcome a lowly man like me?"
Christina's expression turned serious after hearing his words. "Rolan, I remember telling you that you call me by my name and not my rank, didn't I? And what's with that question? It's natural because you are an integral part of the family. Without you, my brother wouldn't live long."
Rolan looked down somberly as he studied his past. "Have I really protected your brother? Five years ago, when the emperor signed the Infrastructure Bill that would transform this nation. A Black Hand operative was waiting outside with a sniper. I jumped out to shield him but it was he who received the shot. I failed my duty back there…In fact, I haven't done any notable feats for your family. All I did was stand guard behind your brother all day—Ou…Ouch!"
Before he could finish his depressing words, Christina pinched his cheeks.
"Rolan, what's with you today? All that sulking and reminiscing. Your simple act of jumping in front of my brother was enough that you are willing to sacrifice your life to protect him. It was a noble gesture. And if you felt guilty when a Yamato militia attacked our convoy on our way back to the embassy, that is not your fault, it was the Yamatos. So don't be sad, that's unbefitting of your reputation as the Reaper," Christina said with a motherly voice, comforting him.
Rolan let out a stiff chuckle. "You might be right. I'm sorry for showing you this pathetic side of mine, Your Imper—I mean, Christina."
Christina smiled at him warmly. "You don't have to apologize. We all have our pathetic side that we don't want anyone to see. Well, now that you are fine, let's head to the palace."
"I agree."
