She’d come so far in the last three days. Men like Dimitri and his friends had been willing to die for her, because they believed she could make the world a better place. Could she? It was a sobering thought, one that had resonated deep within her. She owed those men and so many others, but she didn’t want to help the world out of guilt. She wanted to change the world because she wanted to help.
Kenzie covered her mouth with one hand, tears glimmering in her eyes. “I think you’re ready.”
“I am,” Elena said softly, but it meant much more than Kenzie could ever know. Elena drew in a deep breath and stepped into the hall to meet her destiny.
Dimitri paced the hall anxiously. Below him, a set of grand stairs led to a large ballroom where the ambassadors of a hundred nations mingled and sipped wine. Light music played from a small orchestra, and Dimitri felt every note move through him as he waited for Elena to leave her suite of rooms.
“Dimitri, you must be calm.” Maxim caught his arm and halted him. “Remember, this appearance is a statement. A statement of fact. It will not do for the press to see you so uncomfortable.”
Dimitri nodded, regaining his composure.
A door down the hall opened. Elena emerged, the diamond tiara of her great-great-grandmother resting upon her brow as she walked toward them.
In a blinding flash, he remembered the portrait that hung in the palace that had been his childhood home. The portrait of the young grand duchess, Anastasia. He saw the duchess so clearly in Elena’s features now, and he wondered how he had ever missed it. His breath halted in his lungs. Kenzie had outdone herself with the historical re-creation. It was as though Anastasia herself was walking toward him.
As Elena reached him, he and Maxim bowed formally to her. They wore tuxedos so that he and Maxim could blend in a bit easier with the guests attending the dinner. Until Elena had a chance to speak before the members of the UN, there was still the potential of danger.
“How do I look?” Elena’s tone was as tense as he felt.
“You look radiant, kiska,” Dimitri assured her. “Are you ready to change history?”
He offered her his arm. Elena straightened a little, tranquility smoothing over her face. She nodded.
They descended the stairs, and thanks to a perfectly timed press release a few hours ago by Sophie Lockwood’s news connections, the last descendent of Anastasia Romanov entered the crowd at the United Nations humanitarian awards gala and had every eye in the room fall upon her with excitement. Dimitri held Elena’s slightly trembling arm as face after face turned her way.
The reaction of only one person truly mattered tonight. The Russian ambassador, Fyodor Turgenev. His junior advisor leaned in to show him something on his phone and to frantically whisper in his ear. The ambassador’s eyes moved from the phone’s screen to Elena as she proceeded through the room. Within seconds, men and women crowded Elena, desperate to speak with her. The secretary-general of the United Nations, Mr. António Guterres of Portugal, reached Elena first and bowed.
“Miss Allen. I was just informed by my staff that you are scheduled to address the guests before we present the awards. If you would follow me.” He waved for her to follow him, and Dimitri let go of her arm. She proceeded alone with the secretary-general toward the main dais.
The Russian ambassador sidled up beside Dimitri.
“Very clever of you, Mr. Razin,” the man said softly, just loud enough for Dimitri to hear. Dimitri smirked. There was nothing the man could do to him here.
“I’m sure you’re aware of what happened in Colorado. Not one of your agents survived.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Of course not. Nevertheless, I think you will find it will not be so easy to get to Elena again after this.”
“She is certainly about to catch the world spotlight,” Turgenev conceded. “For a time.”
Dimitri played with the golden phoenix ring around his pinky finger, drawing the ambassador’s attention to it. “Look around this room, Ambassador. Every man and woman bearing one of these rings here tonight stands between you and Miss Allen. The White Army is back, and our numbers are greater than you realize.” It had been a true miracle earlier that day when Leo had told Dimitri that he’d managed to contact more than three hundred members in the last week, and they’d all promised to come for the event. Dimitri had never seen so many men and women from the White Army in one place before. According to Leo, there were nearly ten thousand members spread out across the globe, and all knew of Elena and had sworn to aid her in whatever cause she chose to fight for.
The ambassador cast a glance around. Nearly a hundred men and women in the ballroom had their eyes trained on him rather than Elena. Each wore the same signet ring.
“What is it you want, Razin? She will never rule Russia. The age of monarchs is over. Even in countries that cling to the traditions, they are merely powerless figureheads. The house of Romanov can never be restored.”
Dimitri flashed him a dangerous smile. “She doesn’t want or need a throne. But she will claim the hearts of every man and woman out there who believes in a better future. The strongest rebellions burn with the fire of hope.”
The ambassador scowled. “You may be protected here, but you won’t have this protection on Russian soil.” Then the ambassador spun on his heel and stalked away, shoving several delegates out
