Chapter 3
As soon as the small jet lands in Russia, we are greeted by high sunshine and a pleasant temperature.
The tour guide is waiting at the front of the car, wearing a very well-tailored black suit that looks very uncomfortable and hot for the day.
I look at myself and see myself dressed in a sundress with sandals on my feet .
I walk toward him in soft steps, linked in my brother’s arm.
He reaches out his hand quickly, taking mine gently and leaving a soft kiss on it, and then shakes hands with my brothers.
“Good afternoon. I’m going to be your guide for the next few days.
If there’s anything you need, let me know!
” I nod instantly and get inside the car, followed by my brothers and the guide.
We left the airport and were greeted by the beautiful streets of Moscow.
We drive to the Four Seasons Hotel Moscow, in a relatively quick journey.
Staff are already waiting for us at the hotel entrance, rapidly picking up our bags and taking them to the presidential suite.
As soon as I entered the suite, I rush to the large window in the living room, looking out at the breathtaking city view of Moscow from above, smiling with the presence of my two brothers next to me and feeling truly happy.
“I intend to visit all the imperial palaces. I hope you’re aware of that!” I hear Lorenzo’s deep laughter behind me as he approaches, accompanied by Vincenzo, both standing by my side so that they can enjoy the view with me.
“No one would expect anything less from little Princess Mancini!” Vincenzo says in a hoarse voice, trying to sound more solemn, causing Lorenzo and me to burst into laughter.
“I’m glad you know. I can’t wait to step on the same ground that the imperial family did, where the Romanovs lived. It must be amazing!” I want to understand how they lived before their lives ended so cruelly. I want to see the places where they were, where they always seemed so sad and lonely.
“Weren’t they the ones who were shot dead, thinking they were going to take pictures?
” Vincenzo asks with a kind of amusement in his voice, making me get frustrated and sigh out loud.
He’s always had a macabre sense of humor, finding the funny where literally no one else does.
Apart from the fact that certain morbid facts make Vincenzo more interested in certain places, I’ve never understood that side of his personality.
“Yes, they were, and no, they didn’t die in any of the palaces that Chiara wants to visit. We don’t have the house where they died on our itinerary either!” complains the older brother, with a certain annoyance tone, sounding genuinely tired.
“How about we get some rest and go out for dinner later? You look tired,” I say, looking at Lorenzo, who just nods and heads off to his room in our suite. As soon as my eyes land on Vincenzo, I know I’m in trouble. He looks at me with curious eyes and raised eyebrows.
“Why can’t we go and see the last house where the Romanovs lived? You’ve always been fascinated by this family. Nothing makes more sense than seeing the last place they lived! Besides, this place is also part of history,” he says, looking at me and simultaneously tapping his foot on the floor.
“First of all, they were murdered. It’s not like they lived happily in that place, and you really have to stop with this morbid stuff.
You’re starting to scare me!” I don’t give him time to reply, so I leave the living room and head for my bedroom in the suite, quickly taking off my shoes and lying down on the comfortable bed.
I close my eyes and think how lucky I am despite everything.
I can consider myself a happy person. I have family, friends, a house, and food on the table.
The opportunity to travel to the most incredible places.
I got into the university of my dreams, and I’m going to live in a city I love.
And yet, something inside me tells me that it’s not enough.
No matter what I do, it’s never enough; I’m never enough.
I try to think of what I’m missing and why I feel such a void inside me, but nothing comes up.
Maybe love. I’ve always wanted love, the kind that only death separates, like Grannie Daisy’s, but I’ve never even had my first kiss.
I’ve never fallen in love, and I don’t think anyone has ever fallen in love with me.
They say I’m pretty, some even say I’m beautiful, an example of elegance and style, but for what?
It’s never made me find myself. It never made love knock on my door.
It seems that everyone around me is in love or about to fall in love, and I’m on the sidelines as if I were just an observer in my own story.
When I was little, I swore I would be the main character of my story, but today I’m not so sure anymore.
With that thought in mind, I leap out of bed and quickly free myself from my dress, heading for the bathroom, filling up the bathtub, and dropping some salts.
I feel my body submerged in the warm, fragrant water, and I feel my muscles relax.
I close my eyes and slowly let my body slide down the tub until my head is also submerged.
I open my eyes, and they burn slightly because of the salts.
I close my eyes again and remain under, mentally counting down two minutes, then slowly raising my head and taking a deep breath.
I think about how easy it would be to actually end everythinginmy life, and I immediately push those thoughts out of my head, getting out of the bath and running the clean water from the shower through my body.
I put on my pajamas and lay down on the bed, watching the curtains close and the room go dark.
I cover myself comfortably and try every which way to get my brain to stop, but nothing seems to work.
I wake up to Lorenzo and Vincenzo arguing about something I don’t understand.
Annoyed, I put the pillow next to me over my head in an attempt to drown out the sound.
Realizing that it has no effect, I sit up in bed and pick up the remote control, opening the curtains and being graced with the night view of Moscow.
I get out of bed and head for the living room, watching my two older brothers argue over a slice of pavlova . I approach quickly, pick up the plate with the dessert, take a bite, and bring it to my mouth, savoring its sweet taste. I feel two pairs of indignant eyes on me.
“That’s the end of the discussion!” I affirm calmly, sitting down on the sofa between them. “Where do you want to go tonight?”
“I was talking to the receptionist, and he recommended Turadot. I’ve been looking at the pictures, and I know you’ll love it, Chiara!” Lorenzo is always the one who tries to plan everything. I knew that he would’ve taken care of our meal, typical big brother.
I quickly look up the restaurant on Google, and for a moment, I lose my breath. The dining room is round-shaped and astonishing, with walls and a dome covered in golden baroque ornaments. This sight alone makes the restaurant worth the visit.
“It looks perfect. I can’t wait!” I say, running into the bedroom, opening my suitcase, inspecting what’s inside, thinking about what would be suitable for the evening.
After dinner, we walked back to the hotel, enjoying the view of the city and the cold night air.
I think about all the people who have been here before me, whether they enjoyed it, whether the trip was worthwhile, whether they managed to find themselves.
I take a deep breath and try to push these thoughts away and focusing on my brothers, but something in me won’t allow it.
I feel uncomfortable and watched. I look back over my shoulder and see a tall, strong figure disappear into the dark of night.
I hasten my steps, following my brothers, scared of being left alone.
The next morning, I made my first visit to the imperial palaces.
I had never seen anything like them before, and I felt a strange sense of belonging, perhaps because I had read so much about them.
I tried to imagine the princesses running through the corridors, living their lives, whether they would be happy there or lonely.
I know better than anyone that not all the money in the world or luxurious houses offer any certainty of happiness.
I admired the collection of imperial jewels as well as some clothes that are still in the archives.
I heard stories I had never read before, and I cried when I entered the room of the last Romanov princesses, wiping away the tears before anyone noticed.
I tried to imagine the fear they must’ve felt when they were taken from their home and made their family prisoners.
The anguish and anger they must’ve felt at having their lives taken away from them, with no way of stopping it, being simply born at the wrong time.
Over the next two days, we continued our journey through Russia’s imperial palaces and museums, visiting them all and seeing all the records, rooms, jewels, and clothes that remained.
On the fourth day, in the evening, we were finally treated to a beautiful ballet show.
I gaze at the stage with all the colors, dancers, and classical music.
I feel like I’m in a fairytale, where everything is in perfect condition.
I’m mesmerized by the dancer’s movements on stage, and I feel like crying; I’ve never seen something that was so beautiful and painful at the same time.
I feel my brother’s stare weighing me down, maybe because of the tears flowing freely down my cheeks, but I can’t look away from the stage.
I feel as if there’s a magnet pulling me toward it, not letting me go.
Once the show is over, I jump up from my chair and enthusiastically applaud the dancers on stage, throwing them the flowers I bought outside.
Lorenzo’s hand meets my back and gives small push. I look in his direction and see him pointing to our tour guide, who’s calling us out enthusiastically. We cautiously approach.
“Come on; I got you backstage passes to meet the dancers; let’s go!”
I looked at my two older brothers, that were shrugging their shoulders and follow the guide.
We entered through a door with two security guards next to it, which led into a narrow corridor with several doors scattered all over it, and I saw the dancers coming toward us, smiling and waving.
We congratulated the whole team and chatted with them for a while before heading back to the hotel.
I lie in bed and turn over and over again; I feel tired, exhausted, in fact, but sleep seems to be steadfastly refusing to come; I look up at the ceiling and can’t see any stars; I feel frustrated and want to cry, not knowing why.
I jump out of bed and go to the balcony of my room, sit on the chair there, and embrace my legs while looking at the sky.
There aren’t many stars, and once again, the urge to cry takes hold of me; I miss home.
I pick my phone up and check the time, seeing that it’s already past three a.m. Tomorrow, we’re flying to Dubai at eight a.m. I don’t have much time to sleep, so I resentfully get up and go back to bed, finally falling asleep.
***
It’s eight-thirty in the morning, and I’m already on the family jet heading for Dubai, where I’m meeting my best friends.
I look out the window and see the clouds around me; feeling sleepy, but I am unable to rest. I feel alert even though the sense of being watched has stopped; the moment we get on the plane, I check on my brothers, and they are already asleep.
I get my e-reader and read the whole flight.
When we land, I see my best friends out of the window, grinning and waving at me; I grin back and rush out of the jet to hug them.
As soon as we arrived in Dubai, we were immediately taken to the parachute jump site.
The plane and the instructors were already waiting for usand asking about the place from which we wanted to jump.
The options were jumping over the Palm Jumeirah or the desert.
The Palm Jumeirah was chosen, and after some preparation time, we were taken to the small plane.
I looked at my brothers, and they both give me reassuring smiles.
I feel Aurora squeeze my hand nervously, and I smile at her, trying to calm her down.
The moment the plane reaches 4000 meters, it stops in mid-air, and the door opens.
The overwhelming sensation of fear crosses my whole body; I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
When I open them again, I see Vincenzo jumping out of the plane, and Lorenzo follows enthusiastically.
Both my best friends seem a little anaesthetized staring at nowhere, which kind of gives me motivation to move to the door so that I can be the next one to jump.
As soon as I reach the edge of the plane, my stomach turns over, and I have the feeling that at any moment, I’m going to get dizzy.
I feel my anxiety rising by the second, and my mind is spinning; I think about the possibility of dying from lack of air during the jump, and Iwonder if it would’ve been that bad a death.
“Are you ready?” The voice came from behind, and for a moment, I’m startled by how close it is, the instructor looks at me with a smile on his face, when he realizes how startled I am, I nod my head with little confidence, and he smiles.
“On three, I’m going to jump! Come on 1, 2…
” And he just jumps, making me feel that my soul was left on the plane.
I let out a scream that makes my lungs burn, and I think I’m close to crying.
Look down; it’s wonderful; it amazes me with every jump.
I look down, and the fear evaporates from my being; I lose my breath, and I’m dazed; it’s wonderful, the view, the free feeling of being embraced by the wind, the sun beating down on my face; I feel happy, fulfilled, unchained, enchanted.
I hear some voices shouting my name, and I see my brothers a little below me, and I feel overjoyed to ear the happiness in their voices.
When I felt my feet land on solid ground again, I let out a loud laugh from the back of my throat and felt immediately embraced by my two older brothers.
I looked up to see my two best friends flying toward us with big smiles on their faces.
The next morning, my brothers and I were taken to the Burj Khalifa, where we were allowed to climb to the top from the outside, literally standing on top of the building. Just like the day before, I felt complete and fulfilled, hoping that these trips will help me find myself.