"We can't let it happen!" I exclaimed, horrified. "We have to tell them right away!"

"Be realistic, Bonnie," George said calmly. "How on earth could we tell them without being dismissed as raving mad peasants? Besides, they're only half siblings, after all. They have different mothers. It's not as if it hasn't happened before, more than once. Abram and Sarai in the Bible, Tutankhamen and Ankhesenamun..." He ticked them off on his fingers as he went along.

"I can't bear to hear any more!" I covered my ears with my hands and dashed out of the room.

Vova and Olga were wed a few months later, in all the pomp and finery befitting their station. In the newspapers we saw all the photographs, Vova stunning in his dark suit with the shiny gold buttons, Olga breathtakingly beautiful in her lacy white gown with flowers in her chestnut brown hair. How lovingly they gazed at one another! Yet how could they not notice how identical their clear blue eyes were?

"As are the eyes of most of Russia's population," George told me when I mentioned this.

Fortunately, a letter arrived from home for me at about this time, which helped to take my mind off the situation.

Dearest Daughter,

We were so happy to receive your latest correspondence. Although we worry that you all are keeping warm in the winter, we are happy that your George is back amongst his people and that all of you are doing well.
Wade's oldest, Sally, presented us with our first great grandchild just two weeks ago. His name is Gerald, and he resembles your dearly departed grandfather so strongly that one would think that he'd actually been reborn.
Your father has finally learned to drive one of those newfangled horseless carriages, proving the old adage that you can't teach an old dog new tricks wrong. Now that he has, we're almost never home. He's taken me to some of the most beautiful and romantic places in the country.
Thank you once again for your lovely letter, and until we hear from you again, please accept all our love.

Your devoted parents,

Mother and Father

As I slowly folded the letter, images of my sunny Georgia filled my mind. Childhood memories of picking blackberries, my arms and legs covered with scratches, dark red juice running down my chin, brought a sudden dark melancholy to my soul. As I sat there, I could almost feel the warmth of the sun on my back, and before I knew it, my cheeks were damp with tears.

I felt the warmth of a hand on my shoulder, stood and was enveloped in George's caring arms. "Thinking about Georgia again?" he asked softly.

I nodded, my face brushing against the soft cloth of his shirt.

"Dear little love," he said as he stroked my hair. "I promise we will go there someday."

Vova and Olga's happiness didn't last long. Communication between the Dowager Empress and her family back home quickly brought the truth to light. There was no Prince Christian of Denmark. Vova had been exposed as an impostor.

Furious, Nicholas immediately banished Vova from the Imperial household and forbid him from attending any royal functions. Loyal Olga followed her husband into exile, refusing to have her marriage annulled as her father had wished.

We took them in, of course. What else could we have done? Despite everything that had happened, I couldn't bear to see the young man I'd raised from infancy cast aside to fend for himself completely, with a wife to support as well.

"You realize, of course, that this doesn't in any way mean that I condone what you've done," I told him. "How could you do it, Vova? How could you marry your own first cousin?"

"I didn't mean for it to happen, Mother. Honestly, I didn't." I saw the deep penitence in his eyes and knew that he was sincere. "But as soon as I saw her, I knew that she was the woman I was meant to be with. I love her with all my heart, Mother, and she feels the same way about me."

Watching the two of them together, I knew that his words were true. Unnatural acts were being committed beneath my own roof, and there wasn't a thing in the world that I could do about it.

Revolution swept the country, and in March of 1917, Nicholas was forced to abdicate. The following August, he and his family were forced to leave the Winter Palace and sent to Siberia.

Another autumn passed, then another winter and another spring, and by the following summer, Olga's belly was swollen with child.