Yesterday, There Were More Of Us (Old Work)

Yesterday, There Were More of Us (Old Work)

Chapter 1: Yesterday, There Were More of Us

Alexander Palace, St. Petersburg, Russia…

January 1, 2177

They were all sitting down, all of the adrenaline had drained out of them when they were sitting in their separate limos, and now they were in shock from the events that happened a few hours before.

No one saw this coming, except the a few within their ranks.

And that was the number one thing all International Elites fear the most: traitors.

Which is how all of this happened.

Now Nikolai Romanov was thinking about it, The Late Cosmo de Lafayette looked somewhere off in the distance above the reporters and paparazzi.

I guess we’ll never know , he thought.

People around the world call it The Great French Assasination for several reasons: it took place in Paris, many French International Elites were dead via assasination, a motivated personal plan was set up by Holy Queen Georgette of Britannia, thousands of French dead, acres of land and building were razed to the ground. Furthermore, many of the IE’s who had survived it and now were either safe in their country or somewhere in France suffered injuries. And the cherry on top was that Lyanna de Lafayette and Alexander Hamilton were captured by the Sheridan’s Rangers.

Tonight was supposed to be a fun night as any International Elite Reunion Gala, but instead, it was full of heartache, tears, pain, bloodshed, and serious diplomatic decisions that will change everything as they know it.

His daughter, Yelisaveta, glared vehemently at them, “I told you all,” she spat at them, “Britannia was going to do something sooner rather than later.” She threw her arms up in the air with suppressed anger, “Now look where that got us: this shithole of a mess.”

A loud exasperated sigh rang through the near silent room, “Yes, you did Lisa,” she punched the bridge of her nose to try to calm herself down, “but we couldn’t have done anything at the time, I told you that ,” she tried to reason with her but to no avail.

The figure skater glared at her, “Well I’m sorry, your Royal Majesty ,” Liska sneered, “I guess I overestimated your power, Sasha.” Before the young Tsarina of Russia could retort, a fist slammed down to an armchair. “Now isn’t the time of dwelling in the past and blaming others,” looking directly both at their daughter and ruler, “we need to make a decision on how we’re going to respond to this for the entire world is looking at us.”

“Grigor is right,” all eyes turned to the third eldest, “we either ignore this whole situation or go to war, both choices will result in bloodshed and scrutiny on both sides of the spectrum, and the entire world.” Evgeniya Brazauskienė, stated with a tone that meant business and absolutely no dilly dallying.

With that, they laid out the fate of Russia for the next few years…

~.~

Osaka, Japan…

December 12, 2164 (13 years earlier)…

Nothing could stop her from smiling, even when her cheeks started to hurt. How could she not? She had just won the Junior Grand Prix Final of Figure Skating with a total score of 219.67 points, her now personal high score.

The sound of trumpets roared through the air, mixing with all the cheerings of everyone in the room.

“ISU Figure Skating Final 2163 and 2164, Osaka, Japan, victory ceremony Junior Ladies,” Mr. Suzuki announced in English, while another, Ms. Takahashi, repeated in Japanese.

Everything was set on the ice: a red and white podium with the symbol of the Grand Prix of Figure Skating Final 2164 logo, three medals on three trays carried by three girls, three flowers carried by another set of three girls, all under a gray rug.

The male announcer started, “Third and winner of the Bronze Medal, representing Russia: Yevgenia MAKARAVERA!” Zhenya skated on the ice just as they said her name, her full blue dress sashayed while the background music of River Flows in You by Lorenzo de Luca, then skated to her place on the lowest part of the podium.

“Second and winner of the Silver Medal, representing Russia: Yulia KAIDENOVSKYA!” Yulka was wearing a Bridgerton inspired dress with the music of Material Girl cover used in the show, eventually skating back to take her place as second on the podium.

“First and winner of the Gold Medal, representing Russia: Yelisaveta ROMANOVA-POTEMKINA!” The crowd cheered louder than before, some chanted her name “Lisa, Lisa!”, some waved the Russian flag higher, and some just created flat out noise. Her gold, pink, and purple dress moved along with her as the music of Syrax’s Flight by Ramin Djawadi played but was drowned out by everyone around her. The Russian bowed multiple times, quickly making her way to her place as the winner of the Junior Ladies, but not before hugging her two companions.

“The medals will be presented by our honored guest: Representative Violet Hill.” As the Canadian placed the medal on each girl before Yelisaveta, the crowd cheered respectfully, while they shook hands. As the elderly woman raised the medal, she bowed down for the gold piece to be hung around her neck. Ms. Hill was quite careful of her long hair that was wrapped in a low bun. The temperatures clashing between the cold, youthful one and the warm, wrinkly of the other.

“The flowers will be presented by ISU Representative Maratelle Romano.” This time, the Italian shook their hands before giving out the flowers, each looking identical. “Ladies and gentlemen, please rise for the national anthem of the winner.”

As they sang their motherland’s anthem, the Russian flag was presented in front of them.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you, our medalists!” They all posed for the small group of photographers in front of them.

“We invite the skaters to take a victory lap around the ice.” The winner looked at her friends with a questioning look. While she was down to do it, Yelisaveta wanted to make sure that they were too.

With the biggest smiles they had, they took their time taking their lap around the rink; making sure to high-five the hands in the crowd.

One spectator gave them flower crowns with their favorite flowers: Yevgenia with daisies, Yulia with jasmines, and Yelisaveta with lilies.

After much posing for pictures, it was finally time to get off the ice and do the most painful part of it: the interviews.

Immediately after they got off the ice, they were hounded by one of the three devils also known as their coach. “Zhenya, you’re right leg was off. Yulka, you’re simply not good enough. Lisa, do better than whatever abomination of that bow was.” Ekaterina Tupincina hissed at them, “We practiced this for weeks!” Thankfully, she stopped when a cameraman came a little bit too close, but they all knew that it would be worse later. It was like a switch in her personality when she later instructed them cheerfully to prepare for the hounds.

Flashes were all around, along with the irritating screaming. How amazing , Yelisaveta thought, just after winning the Grand Prix, we get this monstrosity . Thankfully, Yevgenia shut them up by saying -more like yelling- that they will start if it was quiet. They all looked at Lisa, the de facto leader in the room. But as soon as she raised an eyebrow, the yelling resumed.

“How does it feel to win bronze/silver/gold yet again, Zhenya/Yulka/Lisa!”

“Is true that Tupincina another version of Eteri Tutberidze, but worse!”

“Are the three of you going to continue the Russian domination for figure skating!”

“Why do you think that you qualify for the Olympics in the next two years, Lisa!”

The last question struck a nerve in the said girl. How dare they try to downplay her skating? Everyone knows that she’s been undefeated so far since figure skating has been held tightly by the Russians.

Yelisaveta felt the entire room’s eyes focused solely on her as well as every camera. The weight on her shoulders was back, the judgemental eyes of the reporter who asked the question, the worried look that was surely plastered on Zhenya’s face, and  the concealed look of smugness disguised as indifference from Yulka.

Steeling her emotions for the incoming onslaught that will come later, the gold medalist answered, “Since I’ve been able to compete in competitions, I’ve been winning through all of them. This is because the judges see my skating as the best out of all of the girls, and that is shown by the point values that I received. And because of this, I may qualify for the Olympics when the time comes, but we just have to see if I’m capable for the next two years.” Humbling yourself was the best way to get out of that situation, but behind closed doors, her coach will likely reprimand her for that. As long as she doesn’t humiliate herself in public, then that’s all Yelisaveta needs.

The rest of the interviews were a whirlwind of emotions: sadness, anger, disgust, fear, envy, smugness, the list goes on. At the end of it, the three medalists only wanted to go back to their hotel to finally relax from the pressure and expectations, even for a few hours.