August 19, 1919
The hardest task that Olga, Empress of All Russias, had to do was to announce that her two youngest sisters had to be "transferred elsewhere for private reasons". As she expected, the newspapers burst with articles about the Split, as the incident was called within Europe, America, and Russia. Naturally, this led to rumors spreading about what had caused Olga to exile Anastasia and Maria together. Every single instance of rumor or news had begun to worry the Empress…
"Grand Duchesses Out!"
"The Schism Within the Romanov Dynasty."
As so, the news articles read, Olga had possibly had an argument with her sisters that ended in a fight- a theory that came close to the hidden reality of what had happened. And to her chagrin a few months later, her distant relatives within the Vladimirovich branch voiced doubts about her ability to rule… and her alleged refusal to find a consort.
"The recent actions of our Empress can be placed into the realm of doubt… for she had broken ties of blood within the Romanov family. Furthermore, she has not yet announced her male consort as Tsar! Without a Tsar, we will not have stability in the monarchy!"
In defense of Olga, her uncle, Grand Duke Michael, gave a statement in defense of her. "Our dear Empress is already courting Dmitri Pavlovich, a suitable candidate for The Tsar of All Russias. The marriage and heir will arrive soon enough."
Her other relatives, the aristocrats, and the common people watched for signs of the upcoming marriage. And that sign came soon enough: a surprising photograph leaked from the Alexander Palace… Dmitri Pavlovich kneeling with a small box in his hand before his fiancé, the Empress!
A week earlier…
Dmitri Pavlovich grinned at his fiancé, Olga Nikolaevna Romanova. She stood before him in a prim, white Victorian dress with dark blue floral patterns on its collar and hem, and her mouth was agape in a silent gasp. A tear ran down one cheek on her face… but not from despair or sadness.
"Oh, Mitya!" she shouted, placing a hand on her pounding heart.
"Olya… will you keep me waiting? It's getting cold outside, dear," he teased.
Olga squealed, jumping up with joy. She would never be alone anymore on earth! After her father had died from the 1912 Livadia Palace Raid, she had felt lonely, overworked, and saddened… but not anymore. With Dmitri Pavlovich, she had first disliked him for his playboy tendencies and mischievous attitudes. But she had to admit, the light of his social, energetic, and kind persona attracted her! And after years of courting, she had fallen in love with him! She did not have to marry a faraway prince such as Prince Carol… her dream man had been beside her since her girlhood. Dmitri Pavlovich would cherish her and help her through the burdens of life. He would give her his love, something that she had lacked since her father died.
She kneeled before Dmitri, then took the ring before placing it on her fourth finger of the right hand. This would symbolize the goodness to come in their matrimonial union, a union of body, heart, and soul!
"I love you, Dima," Olga said, snuggling her head into Dmitri's tuxedo.
"And I to you, my Empress," Dmitri said, grinning with watery eyes.
And so, their heads slowly drifted towards each other. Their lips met, and a surge of some feeling went through their beings! They both understood that it was considered improper for a lady to kiss her fiancé before marriage, but propriety be damned! They loved each other. The marriage would come soon enough!
The sound of a woman clearing her throat startled them. They broke the kiss, flinching. Olga made a startled gasp. Dmitri could only look for a couple of seconds with a surprised face with his blue eyes wide open! The two royals relaxed soon enough, as they recognized Tatiana and Marie Feodorovna.
"My eldest granddaughter… finally found love!" the Dowager Empress exclaimed.
"I am terribly happy for you, Olya! May I take a photograph?"
"Yes!" Dmitri and Olga said, huddling together.
And so, Tatiana raised up her Kodak Brownie camera, a small yet extraordinary device of its time. She told her elder sister and her now husband-to-be to smile. With an audible click, the first photograph was taken. Tatiana waited for the photograph to develop before taking it out. Forever immortalized in shades of black, gray, and white was a moment of love. It would be a new beginning for the young Empress of Russia.
"Now kiss, I would like to take a picture of that too," Tatiana said, smiling as her grandmother laughed.
"Tatya!" Olga groaned.
"Come on, there is little chance that the public will somehow receive a private photograph."
"I would not mind," Dmitri Pavlovich said, chuckling.
"You too? Well, I suppose…"
Dmitri then leaned his head closer to Olga, who also felt as if an invisible force was pulling her to him. She leaned her face forward until her pug nose touched the narrow nose of her fiancé, feeling strange. But it felt so right. Both of them could feel their hearts pounding in anticipation, and their warm breaths washed over their faces.
"So, are you- mmph!"
Dmitri felt Olga press her lips with gentle pressure against his, feeling soft and warm. He soon relaxed as he wrapped his arms around Olga by the torso, pressing back with his lips. He felt Olga press her tongue between his lips, and he gladly allowed hers inside. Their tongues touched. Both of them hummed in delight, and they opened their mouths wide for an even more passionate French kiss. Soon, their hands began to drift upon each other, over every curve and every part of their torsos. A blushing Tatiana, who had taken the picture moments before, stepped back in slight discomfort… how awkward!
"Olya, Mitya… you may stop now. Perhaps save the affection for the wedding night?"
"We will, sister," Olga said, before turning back to kiss Dmitri Pavlovich again.
September 19, 1919
Grand Church of the Winter Palace, Petrograd
Olga, dressed in a white, sleeveless dress with a long flowing gown, looked nervously at her reflection in the mirror. Against her tastes, she had been goaded by the Dowager Empress to put on some makeup and blush and a low-cut dress. Despite her initial protests, she relented, after growing weary of the constant nagging for the entire day before. The only person who made this time bearable for her was her love, Dmitri Pavlovich. Despite being distant cousins, they did not mind the fact that they were somewhat related. They had grown to love and respect each other.
The young Empress turned around for a smiling Tatiana to place a single white lilac akin to the ones that grew in Livadia Palace. This particular variant of flower was to symbolize her past childhood, and the guiding light she would become for all Russians. Olga had wanted a white rose to remind her of her mother, but Marie had insisted on using white lilacs. Again, Olga gave in after a whole day of pestering!
Olga looked at her reflection: a young, slender woman of twenty three years. And out of those twenty three years, she had already spent almost a quarter of them without her parents. It was a melancholy thought, but she knew that they were in a better existence and soon to watch her marriage. There, her parents would attend in spirit.
The Empress scrutinized her appearance, hoping that her dark blonde hair was braided well enough. In respect to her Slavic roots, she had braided her hair in a braid that went down to her shoulders, known as the Russian Braid. She may have been a reformer at heart, yet she also held a deep respect for the traditional culture and language of her people. None of those would be lost under her reign. Like her late father, she was proud of her Russian heritage!
"You look stunning, Olya! Dmitri will be driven mad with that low cut," Tatiana said, looking at the mirror too.
"I am not one of those temptresses and haughty noblewomen," Olga muttered, checking her braid one last time.
"I know that it is out of persona for me to say this, but I would prefer doing that to spoil your husband-to-be… that is, if I find love."
"You will find love someday as well as I, Tatya. I am certain of that. And no, Mama and Papa would be appalled at this fashion choice!"
"Mama told me before she passed… that she too, wore a dress that revealed much skin in private for Papa."
"Oh," Olga said, her tone quieter.
"Olga, I want you to have a happy marriage with Mitya. Treat him with love, respect, and faithfulness. And, like Mama, spoil him on your anniversaries," Tatiana said, looking into those cornflower blue eyes.
"I will, dear sister. I am so grateful for your advice."
"Am I interrupting something, ladies?" a familiar voice drawled.
Olga turned around from the mirror, laying her eyes on her handsome husband-to-be: Dmitri Pavlovich. The former playboy, now fiancé of an Empress of Russia, would have never expected to fall in love with Olga, who had an opposite persona from his. Yet, here he was, standing in his ceremonial Imperial Russian military uniform and having a slick crew cut.
The Empress could only stare at her betrothed for what seemed like minutes, stuck by his handsome looks. His drop dead gorgeous oval face, his slim lips, and those wide blue eyes… all of those were wonderful. She felt as if the room got warmer…
"Are you done admiring my looks, Your Majesty?"
"Oh, shut up," Olga said in mock annoyance, grinning.
Tatiana then winked at her elder sister before leaving the room for the Imperial Chapel of the Winter Palace. Olga and Dmitri then took deep breaths before heading out of the preparing room… to a larger room filled with the sounds of Orthodox hymns.
The hushed whispers of the various Romanov relatives, the nobility, and some of the clergy ceased when the guards opened the gilded chapel doors even wider. Some heads, some familiar, glanced back at the Imperial couple: Olga I and Dmitri Pavlovich of Russia. Among the faces, Olga recognized her aunts Olga and Xenia, Maria Pavlovna, and her grandmother.
In front of them, the priest stood, holding a lit candle and ring in each of his hands. After Olga and Dmitri confirmed that they would not be promised to someone else, the priest gave them each one ring and one candle. The rings represented their matrimony, and the candles represented the light of Jesus Christ, a major biblical metaphor taught in the Orthodox faith. According to Orthodox belief, the light of Christ would metaphorically guide the husband and wife in their marriage.
Scores of pairs of eyes watched the imperial couple follow the priest with fluid, coordinated steps to the altar. There, Olga and Dmitri placed their rings on their right fourth fingers. They exchanged them three times to signify the finality of their bonding in flesh, heart, and soul.
Joining right hands, Olga and Dmitri prayed with the priest for the stability and happiness of their marriage, smiling throughout the prayer. Olga enjoyed the warm and welcoming feeling of her hands in his, knowing that now she was his and that he was hers. Her fairytale ending was arriving: unexpected but quite welcome!
With a final collective Amen, the couple were given a cup of sacred wind to sip from.
"Follow me," the priest whispered.
Dmitri and Olga followed the priest in three circles around the altar, representing their eternal bond in the physical life and afterlife. And neither of them would fathom splitting apart!
With a final blessing, the imperial couple were given permission to kiss. And so, they obliged with lips joined for moments. They could hear the sound of joyful weeping of their relatives, some of them blowing their noses into napkins. Even some of the nobles clapped and nodded in approval. But hidden in the crowd was a frowning Kirill Vladimirovich, who did not fully approve of the Empress turned Tsarina…
But that did not matter. Olga and Dmitri had finally found something they had been missing for years: love.
A.N: I hope that my depiction of the marriage did not miss any major details of Orthodox practices, despite the kiss thrown in for creative liberties. The wedding night scenes will later be posted in the other version in AO3, and their daughter will be born in the next chapter!
