From that moment on, life changed so quickly that it made my head spin. Early one morning, before anyone else in the royal household had arisen, George and I, along with Mathilde and our servants, began the long journey from Tsarskoe Selo to Paris. To me, it was exciting, like the Wild West adventures I'd grown up hearing about. George, however, seemed sad about leaving his family, and even Mathilde, usually so lively and gregarious, seemed unusually solemn as well.
I wondered how on earth she'd be able to go through with it. How could she carry a child within her body for nine months, give birth to it, and then relinquish it for others to raise? If our roles had been reversed, I wasn't sure at all that even concern for the child's safety could have brought me to do such a thing.
As I gazed, fascinated, at the scenery passing swiftly outside the window of the train, I couldn't help but daydream about what it would be like to finally be George's wife, to love him as my mother loved my father, as women have loved men throughout the ages.
"We won't be able to consummate our marriage until after Mathilde gives birth, you know," George told me. "If you were to conceive before her own baby is born, it would ruin the whole plan."
"Of course." I swallowed my disappointment. "Mathilde told me she had spies, and that was how she knew about Alix's hereditary blood disorder."
George nodded. "My father's first cousin, Sergei Mikhailovich. He's in love with Mathilde and would do anything she asked him to do. His brother, Sandro, is engaged to my sister Xenia."
"But they're cousins!"
"Yes." He seemed puzzled that I was surprised. Then I remembered that Ashley Wilkes and Melanie Hamilton had been cousins, too.
We reached Paris, George located a justice of the peace, and within half an hour or so, we were married. Just like that. No church, no minister, no flowers, no music, no wedding gown and tuxedo, and no guests, only Rufus and Sadie as witnesses.
As soon as the ceremony was over, George took me into his arms and kissed me deeply, using his tongue for the first time. "At last you are mine, dearest Bonnie," he murmured. My disappointment over the plainness and bare-bones formality of our wedding instantly forgotten, I felt desire well up within me. The day we could finally surrender to our passion seemed impossibly far away.
George's eyes met mine, and in them I saw the same frustration I myself felt. Abruptly he let me go.
"Come, let's explore Paris," he said quietly. It was indeed a wondrous city. In addition to the Eiffel Tower, there were museums, gardens, boutiques, large shopping centers, cozy little cafes, and many, many other places to visit. I truly felt as if I were on my honeymoon.
By the end of that first day, I was exhausted. In a room at the inn, I sat at the table with a paper and pen before me, intending to write to my parents, but I fell asleep after writing the first line. The next thing I knew, i was lying in bed with the sun streaming in through the window. With a start, I realized that it was already morning again.
"So, Mrs. Romanova, did you sleep well?" laughed George. I saw that he was sitting beside my bed, and that before me was a tray with coffee and a croissant.
"I don't even remember how I got here." I noticed that I was still wearing the clothing I'd had on the previous day.
"I found you slumped over the table and carried you to the bed and tucked you in." George was freshly dressed in immaculate clothing and smelled of soap and aftershave. I felt another wave of desire flood over me, one even more powerful than the one that I'd felt the previous day.
"I guess yesterday must have really worn me out." I saw that his eyes wouldn't meet mine. "I was going to write a letter to my parents, and then suddenly..." The memory of the previous night made me yawn.
George chuckled softly. "There will be plenty of time to do that later. Wouldn't you like to see more of Paris first?"
"Oh, yes!" I exclaimed.
"Hurry up and finish your breakfast, then." George smiled and patted my knee affectionately.