THE VALUE OF BLOOD
TIME & LOCATION — 8PM & Ballroom CLOSED to @antonlantsov & @viktorlantsov
When four became three, Anastasia swore they could hear every Sankt cry out at such a loss as if the one that perished held more value than the rest. That the life Ivan could have led would have been far greater than the other three Lantsov children.
‘He should have lived,’ they thought to themself as it was time for them to make their grand entrance into the ballroom. ‘It should have been someone else.’ Every minuscule thought laying more weight upon their chest until they found it would be too much to walk in alone.
“Viktor—” A hushed whisper across the side hall that gave them the perfect entrance; the entrance that royals deserved. They made this exact entrance every event that the palace held, but this one was different as the eldest of them would no longer be a name spoken aloud. “—Anton.” The way their names rolled off Anastasia’s tongue mimicked a prayer as if the singular usage was enough for the Sankts to know that the princess was also praying for their safety and health in one breath.
“Can we walk in together, please? It would be nice to show them how united we are. I have two arms — one for each of you.” Even they knew the tension that had concreted itself between them all, the way their brothers looked at each other differently, almost challenging the other to make a move. They reached out to each of them in one last attempt as the doors were preparing to open. “For me.”