Darya Grigorevna Gavrikova

I’m Darya Grigorevna Gavrikova, or Dasha, if you’re not trying to sound like my governess. I’m a junior, though most people think I’m older. I was born and raised in Toronto, though my roots run deep into old Russian aristocracy. My family used to be dvoryanstvo, until the Bolsheviks tore everything apart. They fled to Paris, then Canada, and rebuilt their fortune from scratch. Now we live like royalty again, at least on the surface.

My parents are intense. My father runs a finance empire, and my mother is obsessed with legacy and perfection. I’m the youngest of three. My brother is a professional golfer, and my sister a competitive figure skater. Both of them are perfect in my parents’ eyes; obedient, polished, successful. And then there’s me.

I’m expected to become a competitive alpine skier. Because apparently, two professional athletes in the family just isn’t enough. I used to love skiing, and I still do when I’m allowed to do it my way.  It can be wild, risky and freeing. But my parents are slowly draining the joy out of it with their relentless expectations, rigid rules, and suffocating aspirations.

On top of that, I’m forced to excel academically, play piano and violin, and speak Russian, French, and English perfectly. Failure isn’t an option in my house; punishments are frequent, and swift. It’s like a daily routine at this point…

A few years ago, my parents sent me to live with Leah, some girl they thought would be a good influence. Instead, she became a glimpse into a life I wasn’t allowed to have. She had freedom. She had choices. I saw what life could be like without being constantly watched, corrected, punished. Even in Vancouver, my governess followed me like a shadow, making sure I stayed in line.

Now they’ve sent me to O&P. Another attempt to “fix” me. Another place where they hope I’ll be molded into the perfect knyazhna. But I’m done being their porcelain doll. I don’t want to be someone else’s masterpiece. I just want to be me.