.Literally NO historical sense here, all of this is made up, ALL OF IT. I actually considered making her Genovian or Esperanto or something. So, no Russians get all mad.
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She was lovely, he mused. The way Ekaterina flitted about the ballroom, introducing them to others, always graceful and poised. Her English and German were almost perfect, with a charming accent. Not only was his fiance polite, shy, and beautiful, but the politics involved were perfect as well. What better sign of friendship between Austria and Russia than to have the emperor engaged to the csarina? For a month now, they had been engaged, and while it was no fiery romance, the situation was about the best Aleksander could hope for. She joked about how she would be proud to add yet another surname to the list- Ekaterina Lyubochka Dmitri Gennadiya Ferdinand.
It wasn't love, but it could be some day. They were compatible, they liked each other, and that was enough.
Kat grabbed his elbow and steered him towards the waltzing couples, her gown rustling.
"I take it you want to dance?" he asked sarcastically. She smiled embarassedly and curtseyed, extending a slender gloved hand. He bowed and took it. For a while they danced, then decided to take a walk in the garden.
The music filtered softly through the windows, and a fountain trickled quietly. Kat began to fiddle with her lacy fan, a sure sign of nerves.
"What's the matter, Ekaterina?"
"Oh, nothing. I'm being very silly. I was just wondering, why do you never talk about the time you spent as a prisoner of war?" They sat on an ornate wooden bench.
"I had a friend then, like a brother to me. But he's dead to me now. I don't like thinking about him."
"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to pry." Her blue eyes widened, and loose tendrils of dark hair blew around her face.
"No, you musn't apologize. It was no fault of yours. There was just- a tremendous sort of betrayal. He lied to me about his very nature."
The Russian teenager nodded, and in a brave attempt at anger, said, "Well, you were quite right to cut him loose, then!"
Aleksander sighed, taking her small hand.
"Yes, quite right."
The next day, they went to a public park. The couple had been talking about the weather, books they had read, and other pleasant topics of conversation when a crowd down the path grabbed their attention.
"Do you think it's a protest of some kind?" Kat asked fearfully. Alek squinted in the direction of the group.
"Well, they're all women," he remarked. One rebellious teenager had some kind of voice amplifying beastie, and she began hollering about voting rights. He heard some kind of chant, accompanied by clapping. Ekaterina looked torn, as if wanting to support her gender, but not wanting to yell loudly. They began to march down the lane, tailed by a brave reporter. The sufferagettes ignored him, chanting, "Repeal the Cat and Mouse Act!" One woman, however, grinned widely at the camera, posing with her picket sign. Alek resisted the urge to laugh- she was wearing bloomers.
His fiance smiled shyly. "I should like to support them, were they not so violent."
"Oh, Kat, they're terrorists. You musn't think like that."
"And who are you to tell me how I must think?"
The woman with the bloomers cheered, "You tell him, lass!" as she passed them.
Kat blushed bright red.