Royal Heritage

Royal Heritage

By

Theodore G. Rork

Royal Heritage

Theodore G. Rork

All rights reserved

Copyright © January 2016, Theodore G. Rork

Cover Design Copyright © 2016, Just Write Creations; Jo-Anna Walker

Edited by Chrissy Szarek

Theodore G. Rork

Arlington, Texas

Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

No part of this book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including, but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Paper Dragon Publishing or the Author.

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9971752-0-2

Print book ISBN: 978-0-9971752-1-9

Published in the United States of America

First eBook Edition: January, 2016

First Print Edition: January, 2016

Table of Contents

Title Page

DEDICATION

PART ONE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

PART TWO

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

PART THREE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

PART FOUR

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

PART FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

PART SIX

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

PART SEVEN

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

PART EIGHT

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

CHAPTER FORTY

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

EPILOGUE

A NOTE TO THE READER

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

DEDICATION

To the millions of young people who never got to experience life due to the ignorance of wars.

PART ONE

CHAPTER ONE

RUSSIA 1903 AD

Tapping his foot and fidgeting, thirty-five-year-old Elias shouted at his twenty-six-year-old wife, Maria I told you in plenty of time for you and the children to be ready. Now I can tell by the crowd’s noise they’re almost here. Quick now, stand on these chairs and boxes I set by our store’s window. Be careful you don’t fall. Stay still.

Elias had to help his wife to climb on the chair, because of her long dress and her short height. She stood almost one foot shorter than his five foot-ten inch frame.

Their six-year-old daughter, Olympia, complied with Elias’ order. Their four-year old son, Giorgios made a game out of seeing how many times he’d climb up and down his box.

His father took a deep breath before scolding him. Giorgios, get back up on your box and stay put or I’ll get the wooden spoon. Elias smirked. The spoon had been an instrument for improving family manners for generations.

The child froze. He was no fool. When Elias said he’d get the wooden spoon, that meant Giorgios was going to get his hide tanned. Unlike when his mother merely threatened it.

That’s what I’ve been telling him I would do to him all morning. He didn’t want to wear his best suit because today isn’t Sunday. Maria spoke through clenched teeth, as not to draw the crowd’s attention.

The whole family had dressed in their Sunday’s finest for this special occasion. Maria was stunning in a red walking suit made from a wool silk-like material. It had buttons down the middle, from her black velvet collar to her lower torso by a row of black velvet covered buttons. The edges of her sleeves and coat hem were trimmed with black crocheted silk. Her matching skirt was of modern design, its hem rested on the tops of her black leather shoes instead of dragging on the ground. She didn’t wear the normal large hat that would interfere with showing off her upswept lustrous black hair styled in a pompadour style.

Elias was dressed more conservative. He wore a dark grey wool silk-liked material knee length frock coat. His trousers were black brushed cotton. Surrounding his waist was a burgundy-colored vest. The black paisley ascot complemented his black moustache and goatee. He’d wanted to wear his top hat, but thought better of it when Maria had told him, It will hide your face in the photograph.

Olympia wore a white silk taffeta long-sleeved dress that reached her ankles, while white cotton stockings covered her legs.

Giorgios was wearing a belted white-colored long sleeve jacket with a large collar that laid flat on his shoulders. He wore matching color short pants with white cotton socks that covered his legs up to his shin. On his feet he wore over the ankle black shoes.

The family looked their best, of course, and Maria would probably be heard shouting, Don’t get your clothes dirty, to one or both of her children, but more likely for the mischievous little boy.

Son, I told you yesterday, the Tsar and Tsarina would be riding in their carriage down our street and would be passing in front of our department store, Elias said, while pointing. See the photographer with his camera across the street? I hired him to take our picture with the Tsar."

The department store consisted of the three lower floors of a five-story building. The upper two levels, housed apartments for the two families with the top floor being utilized by Elias father, sixty-eight-year-old Theodoros and his mother, fifty-eight-year-old Sophia.

For five generations, the family owned the store. Passed down from father to son, and was located in an exclusive section of Saint Petersburg on Nevsky Prospect Street.

Elias was the only son of Theodoros and would inherit the store.

As far back as any of the family grandmothers, the verbal keepers of the family history, remembered, they’d been affluent for centuries. As with many Greek descendants living in this part of Russia, stories abounded they had ties to Alexander the Great.

Giorgios gazed in the direction of the photographer and shrugged his little shoulders. Only one thing mattered to the small boy, the sound of the horse’s hoofs. Soldiers. Troops on horseback, like the lead toy soldiers he played with every day.

The crowd started to oooh and aaah when the mounted Imperial Guards appeared on white horses. Each guard dressed in a scarlet outer coat opened at the neck and with wide sleeves, black trousers, black polished boots, tall black fleece hat topped off with a red crown and a gold-handled sword on their belt. Behind the first squad of Imperial Guards, came the open gold leafed carriage carrying the Tsar and Tsarina.

The ruler was splendid, in his all white formal uniform adorned with golden rope braided epaulets. A gold trimmed satin sash crossed his chest, pinned with numerous smaller medals, a gold braided belt. On the left side of his chest, he wore three large, intricately designed medals. Hatless, and with a well-trimmed beard, he half-smiled to the crowd.

To his left sat the smiling Tsarina, looking less ostentatious in her dress than her husband. Her high collar silver colored organza, and taffeta silk dress was adorned with only one piece of jewelry; a simple gold cross that hung from her neck.

Elias made eye contact with his family said, Everybody cast an eye towards the camera across the street and smile when the Tsar passes in front of us.

When the family received a copy of the photograph, they all made remarks about it.

Giorgios grabbed the picture from his father and stared at it. I can’t wait until the kids see me in a picture with the Tsar. He bounced on his toes.

Elias chided his son for rudeness and took the photograph back.

His wife peered at it and shook her head. It’s a shame the picture isn’t in color. My red dress I was wearing looks gray. Maria gave a heavy sigh.

The photographer had a copy painted with water colors, but it made the picture appear more like a poster than a photograph. Your Athena-type beauty looks good in any color, my dear, Elias said and kissed her on the cheek.

She returned the kiss.

My skin color looks gray in the picture and our brown eyes look black. When will they ever have color pictures? said Olympia.

It’s because of our Greek heritage, beautiful olive complexions appear gray in pictures, said Maria with a proud smile.

Maria, you were right about me not wearing a hat. I can clearly see my face in the photograph, Elias said.

The next day, in each of the store’s main windows, sat two framed eight by ten photographs of Elias’ family with the Tsar and the Tsarina. A sign next to the photos read, Free copy of a photograph for any purchase over twenty rubles.

This tactic made that day the most profitable ever for the store. Elias and his family enjoyed being celebrities, for no one had ever seen a photograph of the ruler with commoners.

The photographer had cropped the photo, to make the picture appear that Elias’ family, and the Tsar and Tsarina were the only people in the picture.

Giorgios stood in front of the store’s window smiling. Look, everyone, that’s me in the picture with the Tsar! His soldiers are like mine!

The adult customers laughed at his antics, but the children stared at Giorgios with awe. Elias stood nearby, with his chest thrust out.

Theodoros, Elias’ father, wore a pinched expression called out, Elias, come with me to the store’s basement.

Uh, oh I bet he is upset because I didn’t ask him to be in the photograph with the Tsar.

Elias entered the basement and saw no workers present. That’s odd. Father, let me apologize for not telling you about us having our photograph taken with the Tsar.

Speaking in Greek instead of Russian, Theodoros said, Son, that isn’t the reason I brought you down here. I want to discuss something important with you. Your photograph, and your reversing the layout of the store has increased our business, so now it will be much easier to sell the store.

For the last year, Theodoros had turned over the management of the store to him. Elias’ first order of business had been to change the layout of the store that had been in existence for decades, but not without argument with his father.

Elias remembered it like it was yesterday. His father had insisted he hadn’t needed to change what had always worked, but Elias’ plan had increased profits.

He’d changed the section of goods geared toward the children to be the first a person saw upon entering the store. Parents wouldn’t get out of a purchase by a nagging child if they couldn’t do the rest of their shopping without agreeing. He’d also placed the women’s department in a more female-friendly location, so the ladies could browse. The new floor for the men’s department hadn’t made sales suffer. Men tended to go right to the items they wanted to buy, and they did still did without complaint to Elias or his father.

Sell the store? Elias asked.

Shhh, speak in Greek, not Russian, I don’t want anyone to know what we are saying, said Theodoros.

Elias whispered in Greek, Dispose of the store? What do you mean?

With you running the store, now I spend more time in the café, listening to the political talk. I hear there will be a revolution soon. To overthrow the Tsar.

Elias gasped. No. Father can’t be right. "A revolution? I never heard anything about a revolt." With each word, his voice shot up.

Dammit! I told you to keep your voice down. Theodoros growled and pointed his finger in Elias’ face.

Sorry, Father, but what are you talking about? he whispered.

The rumors are that a rebellion by the Russian peasants against the Tsar is imminent. During those times, people tend to take the law into their own hands. They will likely burn and loot. Therefore, we must sell the store and our apartments as soon as possible. We must save the family’s fortune.

Elias leaned closer to his father. When we sell everything, then what will we do?

Leave Russia for a safer place.

Where is that?

Greece, the home of our heritage.

Elias’ head spun and he swallowed hard. What will we do in Greece?

Open up a new department store in Athens.

Is Mother aware of this plan?

No. I wanted to tell you first. I will tell her tonight when we go to bed. She will be too sleepy to argue with me. Don’t say anything to your wife until I tell your mother.

CHAPTER TWO

As they settled in their bed that night, a restless Theodoros, delayed bringing up the subject of selling the store until his wife, Sophia, appeared almost asleep.

We are going to sell the store, he finally announced.

She bolted up in bed, her face tight. Sophia threw back the covers, and turned to him. Are you crazy? What do you mean sell the store?

Theodoros told her the same thing he’d explained to his son, except his intentions for them to peddle their personal belongings. He didn’t want to throw oil on the fire.

Her voice wavered. What if you are wrong about a coming revolution? What would we do?

What if I am right and we don’t sell? We would lose everything to this revolution. Theodoros needed to convince his wife he was correct.

With a long, low sigh, she bowed her head.

Theodoros leaned over and kissed Sophia on her forehead.

I got one question. How are you going to take the money out of the country? We don’t trust banks, said Sophia.

He flashed a playful grin. I’m going to buy gold with the money and hide it on ourselves and the family.

Did you give any thought as to how much the metal would weigh?

Sighing, he said, I said gold because of its trade value in any currency. But you are right about the metal weighing too much to conceal.

Sophia looked Theodoros straight in the eyes with a face that seemed to shine. Why not exchange the money for diamonds? They would be easier to hide.

Theodoros reached over in bed and kissed his wife on both cheeks and patted her rear end. Thank you, my darling, for coming up with the answer to take the money out of the country.

The next morning after breakfast, Theodoros gathered his son and daughter-in-law together in his apartment. He laid out their plans. When he got no reaction from his daughter-in-law, he assumed his son had told his wife about selling the store.

With the department store doing such consistent business, the sale only took a month to close. They sold the store, both apartments, and their furnishings for the sum of a half a million rubles, the equivalent of a quarter of a million American dollars.

Now that we’re settled into the hotel, there is one other thing I need to tell you. We will need to sell or give away all the excess clothing we own. Theodoros paced after releasing the shaky words. He sucked in a breath and waited for the women’s reaction

Sophia let loose her fury on him. What, are you crazy? You want me to give away all my fine clothing? No. That I will not do. You made me sell all my beautiful furnishings, and I didn’t protest, but now I draw the line. I’m sure Maria feels the same as I do.

Yes, I do, said Maria, but with less vigor.

"Quiet down and I will tell you why we need to get rid of our excess clothing. If we leave Russia with massive amounts of clothing, then the customs agents would become suspicious when we told them that we’re on holiday. Then they would search us thoroughly and find the diamonds. Then we would lose everything."

What diamonds? Elias yelled.

Theodoros smiled. Your beautiful mother came up with a solution as to how we can get our money out of Russia without customs finding out.

I will not argue with you, because what good would it do? Like all Greek men, you’ll get your way. Theodoros’ glowing words about his wife must have softened her attitude about getting rid of her excess clothing. Maria also nodded her head in surrender.

There’s one more problem. Where can we purchase diamonds that are worth a half million rubles without causing suspicion? Theodoros said.

Why not go shopping at Faberge’s jewelry store and buy a pennant or a broach that contains many diamonds? Then we remove the gems and sell the gold pendant, Sophia said.

A cautious Elias warned, Don’t forget they need to be expensive to ensure the diamonds are real.

The gems will be real and clear. We are shopping at Faberge, not a grocery store, Sophia admonished.

Let’s all get dressed in our best clothes and go shopping at Faberge’s, Theodoros said.

What about the children? Sophia asked.

I’ll call down to the desk and get someone to take care of them until we return, said Maria.

Theodoros slipped on his black Victorian tailcoat over a gold brocade vest and high-stand collared white shirt. The most expensive ensemble he owned, and favorite. Although, it was a bit tighter around the midsection than he remembered. The black bow tie matched his silk Victorian top hat. It was necessary to wear the most formal wardrobe for the wealthiest store in Russia.

Sophia stepped out of their room, pulling on long, black deerskin gloves. The large matching purse hung on her arm. Her floor length, ruby taffeta skirts swished as she walked, and the fluffy onyx blouse slimmed her protruding belly and breasts. Do you think this cameo pin is too much? she asked, adjusting the jewels at the top button.

Seems fine. The pin will help pull off the appearance we need.

Sophia was reaching to knock on her son’s door, when it opened and out stepped Maria and Elias.

Are my clothes fitting for Fabergé? Maria asked her mother-in-law. She seemed to be holding her breath.

Maria had dressed less pretentious than her mother-in-law. She wore a black twill bustle floor-length skirt, a white cotton fluffy-sleeved blouse, black velvet narrow belt, ruffled wrist lace gloves. At her side, she carried a brown sequin purse and on her head, a cognac-colored Victorian touring hat.

Yes, very much so, Sophia said with a sincere smile. She was happy that her daughter-in-law had not out dressed her.

How about me, Mother? asked Elias as he spun around to show off his clothes.

Elias was wearing a steel-blue suit with a black and white plaid vest. An Edwardian club collar white shirt with a blue bow tie. In his left hand he held a blue glass handle walking stick for protection.

Beautiful, my son.

Enough of the fashion show. Can we please hurry before all the diamonds are sold out? Here take this, Theodoros said, handing Elias a medium-sized saddle leather suitcase that contained half a million rubles.

They were ready to go. Destiny awaited, or were they just trying to trick fate?

CHAPTER THREE

Elias, pay the cabbie, said Theodoros as the four of them stepped out of the carriage in front of Faberge’s store.

Theodoros studied the four-story Art Nouveau stone building muttered with a sullen stare, "I can’t figure out why they make a big