Home, love, family

by Gabros

… there was once a time the Romanovs had it all. This is just the story of Anastasia and her siblings before the revolution. Prequel to Light at the end of the tunnel.

20. Bloody Sunday

This chapter is quite dark when compared to the previous ones in this prequel. Trigger Warnings in the end notes.

Grand Duke Konstantin Konstantinovich Romanov is one of the many grandsons of Nicholas I. He may be among the most respected members of the Romanov family today, but ever since he was a little boy, Konstantin has felt different from the rest. While the other Romanovs boys waited impatiently for the day they would be required to join the military and bragged excitedly about their appointed regiments, Konstantin was completely enraptured by letters, music, and art.

The Grand Duke is an artist, a patron, and a talented pianist, the great Russian composer Tchaikovsky having been among his closest friends. Konstantin has founded several Russian literary societies and translated many foreign works into Russian. As an accomplished poet and playwright, he takes great interest in the direction of his plays.

Captivated by all types of beauty, Grand Duke Konstantin wrote a poem about Grand Duchess Elizabeth expressing his admiration for her when she first came to Russia to marry Grand Duke Sergei. Since then, Konstantin has been a close friend to both Elizabeth and her husband.

The Grand Dukeʼs artistic side and devotion to duty endeared him to both Alexander III and Nicholas II. The Tsar loves and respects his cousin. Konstantin and his wife are amongst the relatively few Romanovs on intimate terms with Nicholas and Alexandra, who find Konstantin's devotion to his family absolutely admirable, especially when compared to the playboy lifestyle of many of the other Grand Dukes.

Konstantin is indeed a loving and devoted husband and father. He married Princess Elisabeth of Saxe-Altenburg, now Grand Duchess Elizabeta Mavrikievna, in 1884. Known as "Mavra'' by friends and family, she lives with her husband in Pavlovsk, one of the many palaces of St. Petersburg.

The couple has seven children.

Prince Ioann, called Ioannchik by friends and family, was born in 1886. As the eldest, he tends to be the most dutiful and religious, spending most of his time studying Russian Orthodoxy. Born a year later, Prince Gabriel is a sickly young man who ironically finds himself fascinated by the army. Despite their differences, Gabriel and his older brother are inseparable.

Princess Tatiana was born in 1890 and is currently the couple's only daughter. She is a quiet girl with a talent for piano, an instrument Grand Duke Konstantin taught her to play. Prince Konstantin was named after his father, from whom he inherited a great love for theater. He is a sweet and responsible boy.

Prince Oleg is the brightest and most creative out of his siblings. He loves writing poems and making up games and stories for his family, especially his two youngest brothers, Igor and Georgy, born in 1894 and 1903 respectively. The two lads are among the few constant friends and playmates of the Tsarʼs daughters.

But as exemplary and outwardly perfect as Konstantin may be, he has a secret that torments him deeply. A secret that would break his dear Mavra's heart into a thousand tiny pieces.

The truth is that he has never felt drawn to women. No lady has ever aroused his passion, not even his admittedly beautiful and devoted wife.

It all started back when Konstantin was a young man serving in the Imperial Guards. His first homosexual experience felt natural and desirable in a way his duties to the mother of his children never did.

The Grand Duke has made great efforts to repress his inclinations, what he calls his "main sin", but despite his great love for Mavra, Konstantin hasn't been too successful lately, having instead become a steady visitor to several male brothels and bathhouses in St. Petersburg.

No one suspects a thing though. The respectable Konstantin attended the heir's christening along with his family. His 14-year-old daughter Tatiana made her first official court appearance in full Russian court dress wearing long white gloves, a string of her mother's pearls around her neck, and a satin kokoshnik with a large bow atop her hair.

His sons also went to the christening, the excited young Igor wearing a military attire similar to the one that had made his little cousin Maria take one of his brothers for a real soldier a few years ago.

They all watched as Olga and Tatiana rose to the importance of the occasion, remaining solemn as judges throughout the four hour ceremony.

Olga blushed with pride as she walked with her grandmother the Dowager Empress Maria Feodorovna to the font holding a corner of Alexei's cushion.

Despite not being even nine yet, Olga captured her first heart that day. Eighteen-year-old Prince Ioann Konstantinovich was completely besotted with her.

"I was so enraptured by her I can't even describe it", he wrote to his mother Mavra. "It was like a wildfire fanned by the wind. Her hair was waving, her eyes were sparkling, well, I can't even begin to describe it! The problem is that I am too young for such thoughts and, moreover, that she is the Tsar's daughter and, God forbid, they might think that I am doing it for some ulterior motive."

Nicholas and Alexandra are immensely protective parents. They are enjoying every second of their daughters' childhood, and to even consider pondering about their future marriage prospects in a serious manner would be unthinkable for them. When they are ready to do so, however, they will want nothing but the best for their daughters. They sometimes dream of having each of them sit on a different European throne and make incredibly witty jokes about it. A proper Russian Grand Duke or a foreign prince who is not next in line are the least they would be willing to accept for any of their precious highborn daughters.

Prince Ioann will not stand a chance for many years to come. He may never.

Oo

Tsarskoye Selo. September, 1904.

The spirit of God dwells inside the Mauve Room's atmosphere of love. Of this Alexandra is sure. She is sitting on her favorite sofa, holding her baby son in her arms, and smiling at her daughters, who rest comfortably around her, eager to nurse the family's newest addition. The oldest three each brought one of the room's many lilac chairs closer to the couch, but little Anastasia is sitting on the arm of the sofa with her head lovingly laid on her mother's shoulder. The youngest Grand Duchess gets to have the best view of her little brother this way.

A nanny found the four girls tip-toeing to the nursery already in their nightgowns. They intended to peek into the crib to inspect their baby brother. It had all been Olga's idea. Despite being a bit past their bedtime, Alexandra couldn't help but grant her daughters their wish upon learning of this.

When a smiling Nicholas walks into the room, the little Grand Duchesses instantly switch their attention to him, squealing with joy. The Tsar gathers the four girls in his arms with a bit of difficulty and kisses each of them one by one.

"Has our baby been good today?" Nicholas lays his daughters down gently.

"Oh, yes, papa!" Maria beams. "He is always good!"

"But not as good as me!" Three-year-old Anastasia extends her arms. "Kiss me again papa! Kiss me again!"

Nicholas laughs wholeheartedly, having no choice but to do as he is told. He lifts his youngest daughter and gives her a quick kiss on the cheek before laying her back down.

The little girls follow their father as he moves to greet their mother.

"My brother has been delirious with happiness for weeks", Nicholas kisses his wife on the lips. "He likes to joke and say he is retired now."

"Well, a huge weight has indeed been lifted off Misha's shoulders", Alix smiles, but then her brow furrows just slightly as she looks down at her son. "But you, my sunbeam! Oh, you will have to carry that terrible weight instead!"

"I will make sure he is well prepared for it", Nicholas soothes her. "We will teach him about his future role with anticipation."

"I already taught him a word, papa", Olga informs her father with pride.

"Is that so?" Nicholas grins at his eldest daughter as he takes Alexei in his arms. "Which one, darling?"

"He wasn't saying anything, Olga", Tatiana looks up at the baby as she follows her father around, "he is just a tiny cute little baby."

"He was", Olga insists, "he said 'God', I taught him that because I am his godmother, and he needs to learn about our loving God."

"That is amazing, dear, I am very proud of you both," Alexandra shakes her head without meaning to, revealing the fact she doesn't quite give credence to what Olga just said.

Nicholas kneels before Alix's couch, and his four daughters gather around him to look at the baby, making faces to catch his attention. Alexandra smiles down at her husband and children from the sofa. Baby Alexei's eyes travel from one sister to the next. From his sisters to his father, from his father to his mother. No smile leaves the parents and sistersʼ faces as they gush about the little one for a while.

"May I take Alexei to the nursery on the way to my office, dear?" Nicholas asks his wife. "I want to spend every possible moment with him."

"Must you leave already?" Alix inquires in a dejected tone.

"Don't leave, papa!" Five-year-old Maria exclaims.

"I have to", Nicholas strokes his daughter's hair with one hand as he looks at his wife with sad eyes. "There is so much to do. I only came to say goodnight to my beautiful little princesses", he smiles at his daughters before continuing. "Uncle Sergei has sent several alarming documents from Moscow. There seems to be a lot of unrest in the city, so not even this pretty little fellow has quelled it." Nicholas tousles Alexei's blond hair.

"You work so hard papa!" Olga exclaims in admiration.

"It is nothing compared to what our brave soldiers are going through far from home, deary," Nicholas smiles at his daughter.

"Your uncle is far too pessimistic", Alexandra shakes her head, this time in disapproval. "Didn't he see the crowds at the christening? The people love their sovereign, Nicky dear. Scaremongers are capable of inventing all sorts of nonsense to force you to do things their way."

"It is possible," Nicholas admits, "but I must still read everything I am sent."

"Very well dear", Alexandra sighs. "Take baby, I will go see him as well in a few minutes."

Oo

Alexandra tucks her four daughters in bed after praying with them for quite some time. Tonight is a special one. At her daughters' enthusiastic insistence, she will allow the little pair to have a sleepover in their older sisters' bedroom.

While Olga and Tatiana are already cuddled up under the blankets of Olga's cot, Maria and Anastasia are still having trouble standing still on Tatiana's. They are just too excited.

Lying down on the sofa, Alexandra begins telling a story at Maria's request.

"Close your eyes," she whispers, and the two oldest girls do. Maria eventually lies down and closes hers. Only after some motherly coaxing does the little Anastasia do the same. "Once upon a time in St. Petersburg", Alexandra begins, "there lived a very generous, gentle, and pious Tsar."

"Is he papa?" Little Maria asks, failing to keep her eyes closed.

"No, dear," Alexandra smiles. "Papa is indeed generous, gentle, and pious, but this is another Tsar. Snow was falling, covering the streets with a white veil. The stars were shining and the trees and golden bridges shimmered under the moonlight. Cathedral bells were ringing, and all over the land people sang 'God Bless the Tsar'…"

"Was there a war?" Olga inquires.

"No, my darling, there was peace, you see," her mother replies, "but everyone was excited because the Tsar had arranged a ball for his four beautiful sisters."

"Oh!" Anastasia cries with excitement, already knowing where the story is going.

Alexandra continues narrating the tale of this almost mythical Tsar who ruled all over Mother Russia and her peoples with kindness and justice. She tells her daughters how much the people adored this wonderful, wonderful Emperor. A benevolent ruler who had ended all poverty throughout his nation and was always willing to help whoever came to him asking for aid. His reign had brought about a Golden Age of art, literature, music, and prosperity for all of his subjects.

"Only the best of that music was played at the ball", Alexandra explains. "This great Tsar invited four handsome princes from four distant lands to attend, and when they arrived, each became completely besotted by a different sister of the Tsar."

"Yay!" Maria claps. The three other girls giggle.

"The eldest was wearing a beautiful light blue gown", the mother smiles at Olga, who smiles back. "The second wore a sparkling purple dress, the third wore a yellow…"

"Can't it be green?" The five-year-old complains.

"Yes, Maria", Alexandra strokes her daughter's cheek. "The third sister wore a pretty green dress, and the youngest wore a yellow one."

"And pink!" Anastasia adds.

"The youngest daughter wore a yellow and pink dress", Alexandra indulges her child. "And so, these four sisters were invited by the princes to dance, and dance they did. They twirled around all night. By the time the party was over, the four sisters had fallen madly in love with the four princes, so they decided to marry them, becoming the rightful queens of four different and beautiful kingdoms."

Alexandra describes each of these lovely lands, where the four sisters would triumph as generous Christian rulers, beloved by the people of their adoptive motherlands, as great as their tall, brave, and strong brother, who would create a magical tunnel for the sisters to visit their beloved Russia and each other any time they pleased. And so, the five siblings and their spouses lived happily ever after.

As the end of the story approaches, Alexandra tries to surprise her girls by revealing that this great Russian Emperor bore the face of their beloved little brother Alexei, now a handsome young man. She doesn't truly succeed at making it a surprise, but the four girls end up loving the story nonetheless.

The sleepy Grand Duchesses are already lying under their blankets when Alexandra approaches their cots again. She grabs Olga's hand and kisses it many, many times, doing so quicker by the second, practically attacking her daughter with the kisses until she is playfully pretending to eat her hand. The four girls begin laughing incredibly loudly, but none of them louder than Olga.

Alexandra does the same thing with Tatiana, Maria, and Anastasiaʼs hands. The youngest girl ends up loving this playful silliness so much that she begs her mother to do it again. Alexandra, as usual, indulges her.

Once her daughters have fallen asleep, Alexandra tiptoes out of the room with a huge grin on her face.

Oo

Earlier than usual the next morning, the Tsarina is more than ready to breastfeed and cuddle her sunbeam again only to find that standing by her baby boy's cot is one of the nursery maids holding a wad of red lint and wearing a disturbingly troubled expression.

Breathe, Alix scolds herself, just breathe. The slightly dim light may be giving the lint its deep crimson appearance, she thinks. It is only the lighting.

Then she walks closer, and her heart skips a beat. She lets out a gasp without meaning to. It is definitely not the dim light.

"It is coming from his navel, Your Majesty", the nursery maid curtsies. "It started just a few minutes ago. Would you like me to send for the doctor?"

Oo

Having completed their daily lessons and spent time knitting for the soldiers, Olga, Tatiana, Maria, and Anastasia start playing a variant of hide and seek in the playroom, a variant that the girls themselves invented and consists of hiding the dolls while someone covers their eyes and counts to ten.

Supervising the little Grand Duchesses are their nannies Maria Vishnyakova and Alexandra Tegleva, whom the girls refer to as Shura. Alexandra is a young woman of twenty. With dark hair, full lips, and a long face, Tegleva isn't what most would consider a beauty, but the way her features blend makes many think of her as pretty, quite unlike the unfortunate Vishnyakova, who is slightly older. Both women are wearing long beige dresses with embroidered adornments and puffy mutton sleeves.

Olga is counting now. "One, two, three", her eyes are closed as she leans on a wall, about to count to 30. The first three numbers are always enunciated slowly, without rush.

Tatiana and Maria look calmly for the perfect spot to hide their dolls, whereas the little Anastasia runs from one place to another amidst excited giggles.

"Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen", Olga keeps counting. Tatiana leaves her doll behind a shelf. Maria and Anastasia keep running around the room in search of a good hiding spot. "21, 22, 23", the eldest continues.

Eventually, Anastasia leaves her doll behind a stuffed bear sitting on the counter. Maria doesn't know where to put hers though. She tries to imitate Anastasia, but the latter will not stand for it.

"No!" Anastasia pushes her sister away. "Mine! Mine here!"

Maria's pout makes Tatiana's heart break. It causes Maria Vishnyakova's heart to break too, which is something the second eldest daughter of the Tsar can see in her nanny's eyes.

"But Nastasia", Tatiana pleads with her youngest sister before the woman watching over them can. "Both dolls can be hidden close by."

"No!" The little Anastasia crosses her arms with great firmness.

Olga keeps counting. Maria grows increasingly desperate as she runs from one side of the huge room to the other, pouting and whining in frustration.

Tatiana rushes to her little sister's aid. "Here, my darling", she gently guides Maria to a spot under the sofa, where the relieved girl hides her doll.

"See?" Shura smiles, endeared by what she just witnessed. "Your big sister helped you, how nice of her!"

Maria smiles at her nanny and then hugs Tatiana tightly just as Olga begins searching for the dolls.

The Tsar's second eldest daughter is very mature for her age and has a sweet and nurturing disposition. On one occasion, the Standart officers gifted the imperial children rabbits, but this upset Tatiana.

"How would you like to be squeezed into a tiny cage like that?" She asked one of the men in tears, and turning to her governess, she added: "Do tell him how wrong it is to hurt the poor little thing."

The rabbits were freed in the Crimean countryside. Ironically, the officers had just rescued the rabbits from a snake. Had they been told, the girls would have thought that much worse than a cage.

Oo

The made-up game is a success, and the girls spend a good portion of the evening running, hiding, and screaming with joy and surprise upon finding the toys. Eventually, Shura and Vishnyakova are left with no choice but to allow the little girls to expand their fun to the entire second floor, where their rooms and those of the maids are located. It is difficult for these two nannies to keep up with their young charges when the rules of the game change rather abruptly, becoming instead about catching each other.

Olga chases after Maria through the corridor and catches her for a last time. The grumbling Maria refuses to admit she has indeed been caught though, and she keeps running instead of accepting her defeat. Hearing Maria's complaints, Tatiana stops in her tracks and smirks at Olga from the opposite side of the corridor. Olga giggles in acknowledgment, for they both know exactly what to do when their little sister gets grumpy. They jump for her in an instant.

"We will have to punish you Maria!" Tatiana cries.

"Torture!" Olga puts her arms around Maria's chest and picks her up. Tatiana follows suit and lifts her little sister's legs from the opposite side, leaving a squealing Maria face up and far from the ground between her two older sisters.

"Come, Nastasia, come!" Olga spots her youngest sister behind her.

"Yes!" Tatiana follows suit. "Attack her! Attack her!"

It wasn't actually necessary for them to invite Anastasia to do anything. She already had a devilish grin painted on her face. The giggling three-year-old rushes forward and starts mercilessly tickling Maria, whose screams become as loud as her sistersʼ laughter.

Shura too laughs out loud at her charges' mischief. It is Maria Vishnyakova who intervenes, worried Maria may be genuinely upset rather than amused by her sisters' antics.

Everything seems to be fine this time around though, and the five-year-old Maria starts laughing as soon as she is back on the ground. The girls and their nannies keep doing so for minutes.

Oo

The four sisters are back in the playroom. Olga and Tatiana are happily brushing their dolls' hair. Maria and Anastasia, on the other hand, are playing together in a different corner of the room. Maria's new doll has beautiful golden curls, whereas the three-year-old Anastasia is, very predictably, playing with her bald old Vera again. Both Olga and Tatiana find their little sister's love for that ugly thing amusing and quite often whisper in each other's ears to joke about it.

The day has been jolly and mostly normal, but the two older girls have sensed trouble as well. Olga is the first to put this suspicion in words. "Something is wrong with mama", she says to Tatiana. "I think she is mad at us." Their mother hasn't come to visit them today. Neither has their father. Why? They always do.

At first, Tatiana doesn't want to believe it. How can her kind, affectionate mama be mad enough not to spend time with them? Something like that has never happened before. And what could they possibly have done to make her angry? Well, she did scold them for making too much noise earlier…

And just two days after Alexei's birth, a recovering Alexandra started getting intense headaches caused by the joyful Maria and Anastasia, who would make an awful amount of noise by the bed whenever she was nursing her son, so after scolding and warning his two youngest daughters about this to no avail, Nicholas forbade them from entering their mother's room to see the baby. For a day or two, until Alexandra recovered, only Olga and Tatiana were allowed in.

Tatiana is glad her papa did this for her poor mama's sake and feels proud about having behaved way better than her little sisters, but she suspects Maria and Anastasia were not too pleased about it. Maria was really sad. Still, Alexandra made sure they both understood the reason why she couldn't see them.

If she were angry or ill, Alexandra would have already talked to or sent the four of them a little note explaining everything.

Tatiana knows her mama. "I don't think she is mad, Olenka", she strokes her older sister's hair, and Olga hugs her tightly in response. "She was sad, mama has been crying."

"How do you know?" Olga asks.

"Her eyes were red." Tatiana becomes sad. Both girls stay silent for a few seconds.

"Oh, no!" Olga suddenly cries, pulling away from the embrace.

"What?" Tatiana asks.

"What if Sonia is sick again?"

The health of their mama's friend Sonia Orbeliani hasn't been the best recently. Sometimes she falls very ill and even gets feverish. Alexandra always takes care of her.

"It could be", Tatiana looks down, feeling bad for both her mama and her mama's friend.

"We should pray to God for her to get better, Tanechka", Olga suggests. And the two young girls do so.

Olga longs for Miss Eagar. She is moving back to Ireland, having stopped working for them a while ago, and Olga already misses her almost constant presence and wisdom. They have other nannies, but none is replaceable. It is hard losing people, and Olga can only pray fervently that they won't lose Sonia, at least not too soon. Miss Eagar promised to write, but one can't send letters from heaven.

Oo

Tatiana lies awake on her cot, unable to sleep. It is not only because her mama is sad and Sonia may be sick. She also misses her little brother. The four sisters haven't seen Alexei much today, and it was hard enough for the seven-year-old to accept she wouldn't be able to visit the baby in the nursery any time she pleased.

Out of her sisters, Tatiana is the only one for whom the wonder and fascination brought about by the novelty of having a new baby brother has not yet diminished, if it ever will.

It is not that her sisters love the baby any less, but Tatiana has come to notice none of them seem to miss him as much as she does whenever they have lessons or are unable to see him for any other reason, not even Maria. Well, Tatiana does miss him a lot, sometimes even while knitting or sewing.

Olga is often busy with schoolwork, sometimes eager to learn more than she is required to. Whenever she is free to do so, Olga will read, sing, play the piano, or be up to some mischief. She can easily distract herself. Tatiana knows. Tatiana talks to her older sister everyday because almost everything related to their lessons is a tiring chore unless she does. And so, she knows. Olga's favorite topic of conversation is not solely their brother but something different almost every hour, and despite being one of his godmothers, Olga doesn't mind being unable to see Alexei each and every hour of the day.

Little Anastasia was utterly disappointed when Alexandra told her the baby was far too young and frail to play those wild and lively games of hers like her sisters and cousins, so a few minutes a day to say hello to Alexei, kiss him, and imitate his baby movements would be more than enough for Tatiana's youngest sister.

Maria is, without contest, the most affectionate with Alexei. Not even Tatiana kisses him as much. Only Alexandra's fussing over the baby of the family matches Maria's, and yet Tatiana has noticed her five-year-old sister becomes easily upset whenever he cries, so much so that as long as she is assured the baby is going to be fine and happy again soon Maria will appear relieved rather than distraught when the nannies take him away. She doesn't seem to miss him much either, at least not when her dolls and sisters are around to play with.

Of course Maria didn't like it when Tatiana told her she too could sometimes be a real crybaby about every tiny little thing, even though it was the truth. Even Olga agreed. That is why Maria got mad about the perfect ending of "The Little Mermaid", Tatiana remembers. That is why Maria dislikes Sonia Orbeliani. Sonia is always teasing and pulling pranks on everyone and Maria is the only one out of the four sisters who can't stand it. She is a bit alone in that, Tatiana thinks. Olga, Tatiana, and Anastasia like Sonia, considering her very nice and funny. Little Anastasia is fiercely protective of Maria despite being younger though. On one occasion, she even teased Sonia back after the latter caused Maria to become upset. Tatiana smiles at the memory.

The seven-year-old Tatiana has something more in common with Maria now. She is alone in something for the first time ever. Alone in her almost infinite enchantment with her beautiful baby brother. So captivated she is that a slightly wicked idea crosses her mind. Tatiana tries to brush it off, she is a good girl after all, but it is far too tempting.

Very slowly and carefully so as not to wake Olga up, Tatiana rises from her cot and sneaks out of the room she shares with her older sister. She briefly considers returning and waking Olga up so that they can both visit their sleeping baby brother in his cradle together. Olga knows how much Tatiana misses the baby everyday. She may even be understanding of Tatianaʼs urge to see him.

After all, Olga was the one who came up with the idea of visiting baby Alexeiʼs cradle past her and her sistersʼ bedtime, but only for the sake of Maria and Anastasia, who were gushing about how much they wished to see him.

Maria and Anastasia are younger and much more childish than I am though, Tatiana reconsiders. I am a big girl of seven already. Tatiana doesn't want Olga to start treating her as a little sister who does silly things. They are best friends.

It is much later as well. The little pair must be fast asleep by now and Tatiana doesn't want to wake them up. She doesn't want to wake poor Olga up either. That would be mean.

Tatiana tiptoes through the corridor all by herself, feeling naughtier than she has ever felt in weeks, months, or even years. The last time she did something quite as naughty, Tatiana had been accompanied by her sisters and Cousin Ella, but this is her own idea. What will mama think of her? Tatiana hopes that if her mama does find her, she will just smile and let it be like she did last time.

As she draws near her brotherʼs room, Tatiana starts hearing voices, so she hides behind the door, panicking. She may have to go back now, for her plan is probably ruined.

"It may be nothing", one of the voices is saying. "But whatever it is, none of this is your fault." Papa.

Tatiana peeks in and sees her mother weeping before Alexei's crib, her father standing on the opposite side.

"But you know it is", Alexandra shakes her head frantically. "I am the one who has brought her family curse down upon this innocent angel!"

Curse? The young Tatiana opens her eyes wide. Has her baby brother been cursed?

"Sunny, darling", Nicholas approaches his wife, "you mustn't think that way."

"Who but me, Nicky?" Alexandra's voice grows high pitched.

"Blaming oneself does not help, Alix, and the doctor said the little one should get better in no time, you will see."

Tatiana can't hold back her gasp any longer. "Mama", she walks out of her hiding spot and enters the room, no longer caring about getting scolded. "What is wrong with the baby?"

Both Tatiana's parents turn to face her. Nicholas was already sad, and soon he becomes worried about his daughter as well.

"What are you doing awake, sweetling?" He wonders how much she might have heard and gives her a sad smile that seems to reassure her for a second.

There is too much pain in Alexandra's eyes though, such an intense and unfamiliar turmoil that for a moment the little girl grows frightened, almost feeling as if her mother were a complete stranger. The Tsarina stares at her daughter, the turmoil turning into absolute horror.

"God help me!" Alexandra bursts into a sob. "What if that thing is in you too, or…? Oh, Nicky, what have I done to them all?!"

When the crying Tsarina moves forward to hold her, Tatiana's heart fills with more pity than it ever has. The girl runs into her mother's arms and allows her to pick her up.

"I am sorry, my baby, I am so sorry", Alexandra murmurs over and over again as she squeezes her daughter so hard the child starts having trouble breathing. "Forgive me, forgive me."

"Don't cry mama, don't cry", Tatiana kisses Alexandraʼs cheek repeatedly in order to comfort her. The seven-year-old's face ends up becoming wet with her mother's tears.

Then Alexei cries. Alexandra flinches. She carefully lays her daughter down and rushes to gather her son in her arms.

"Your baby brother will be fine, darling", Nicholas goes over to Tatiana and picks her up, reassuring her. "He just may prove to be… delicate."

The girl watches as her scared mother anxiously soothes Alexei and her own eyes fill with tears. That is the same baby she has fallen so in love with. He still has that silky blond hair that glows in the light like the sun itself. His brilliant icy blue eyes move around comically as he tries to focus, just as they always do, especially around Olga.

Alexei coos, much too loudly for such a tiny body. For once, Tatiana doesn't laugh when he does. Her tears have rolled down. "But, but…" Tatiana hides her head in her papa's neck as she whimpers, "but Nanny Maria says it is difficult to bathe him because he is always moving around so much, and… and, and he is so strong, and… and Nanny Shura says he is full of life and God's love."

"And so he is, my little cherub, and so he will always be, do not worry", Nicholas kisses his daughter on the cheek, and after soothingly carrying her around the corridors and stroking her hair for a few minutes longer, he tucks her back into bed and returns to his wife.

Oo

Tatiana doesn't fall asleep on her cot. She sneaks into Olga's instead, not caring about acting like a silly little sister this time. The sound of her weeping wakes the older girl up.

"What happened?" The worried Olga puts her arms around her younger sister. Tatiana tries to explain everything in tears, but fails to do so thoroughly. She is way too upset. Olga sympathizes nonetheless and squeezes her little sister in response. "Don't worry Tanechka, God is watching over him and so is his angel."

Olga recites an Orthodox prayer for the sick, and after planting one last kiss on her sister's cheek, she lies back down, persuading Tatiana to do the same. The two girls cuddle and try to rest, Tatiana finding comfort in Olga's prayers and soothing.

Tatiana will always have her parents and big sister to count on, and Olga understands her concern for the baby. They will both make sure that angel they both adore is always well.

But as reassuring as this is, the thing Olga may never understand is the moment Tatiana shared with their mother. Olga didn't see the horror in her eyes or witness her most vulnerable moment. Poor mama needs us so much, Tatiana thinks. She needs us to be obedient and stand strong in the face of this curse that may yet prove to be more terrifying than anything we have ever experienced. Tatiana feels she is and may always be alone in that understanding.

Oo

"Nicky, are you awake?" Alexandra whispers to her husband, who lies in bed next to her.

"Yes, sunny", he tenderly kisses his wife's forehead as he takes her into his arms. "I am having trouble resting while knowing our baby is unwell."

"Supposing it is…"

"We have to pray and hope for the best, sunny. It may still be just a small cut or something. You heard what the doctor said, babies can have extremely tender skins."

"I know but… Nicky, you know it can be, I have told you why", Alix props herself up on an elbow and looks down at her husband with an agonized expression that only the darkness of the room conceals. "What if…?"

"We will find the cleverest doctors in the country and the world if needed", Nicholas cuts in.

"No amount of medical treatment will help", Alexandra's voice betrays her fear. "There is no cure."

He remains silent. The thought crosses Alexandra's mind that her husband is angry at her, but she brushes it off immediately. It is she who is drowning in guilt and self-loathing.

"Nicky, if it is hemophilia, it's all my fault", her voice breaks into a whimper.

"Don't ever say that again, we have discussed this already and you know I hate it when you talk like that", Nicholas sits up and draws his wife into a hug. "If our son does have hemophilia, darling, it is God's will and we have no choice but to accept and learn how to live with it."

"It doesn't matter how much we accept it", Alexandra cries, "the people won't accept it, they will never accept it, you know how superstitious they can be, they will say I have tainted the dynasty, they will reject our baby, the plotters in court..."

"There is no reason for the people to know", Nicholas assures her. "In fact, no one needs to know. We will make sure no one ever knows, no one we don't trust. Our girlies will, of course, have to be told, they should learn as soon as possible how to be discreet in the presence of outsiders and careful around their baby brother. Our doctors need to know as well… and perhaps your sisters too, they will understand our situation better than anyone. Irene may even have good advice to give."

"But our poor baby boy, Nicky, how he will suffer!" Alix sobs now. "Irene… her eldest, the pain he… and little Heinrich… I can't bear the thought, Nicky, I truly can't!"

"If the worst is to come, sunny," Nicholas strokes Alexandra's back, "I am sure you will be able to bear it. You have survived unspeakable losses and came out an amazingly loving mother. You are the strongest woman I know, and I will be there to bear it with you."

"I don't want to try for another, Nicky," she confesses. "Regardless of what happens I…"

"Your health", he finishes for her before kissing her hair. "I understand, I will be careful the next time we…"

"It is not just that", she sniffles. "If baby is ill… oh, Nicky! Trying to have another would feel like anticipating our sunbeam's death in advance, and I love our treasure just as he is, Nicky, I really do, he is so perfect, I don't want anything bad to happen, I don't want us to give up on him so soon..."

"Never!" Nicholas soothes her, trying but failing to sound sure of himself. "We will do everything in our power to protect him, sunny, he is going to pull through, you will see, with faith in God everything is possible."

Nicholas and Alexandra lie back down on their bed, holding on to each other as if their lives depended on it. They are still unable to rest.

"St. Job the Long-suffering", Nicholas suddenly says.

"What?" Alix is startled.

"I was born on the feast of St. Job the Long-suffering. It is not you, sunny, it is me."

Oo

"Alix and I have been very much worried", Tsar Nicholas recorded in his diary. "A hemorrhage began this morning without the slightest cause from the navel of our small Alexis. It lasted with but a few interruptions until evening. We had to call the surgeon Fedorov who at seven o'clock applied a bandage. The child was remarkably quiet and even merry but it was a dreadful thing to have to live through such anxiety."

It started on September 8, but the Tsarevich has been bleeding on and off for two days already. It is now certain. Nicholas and Alexandra's chubby, healthy-looking baby seems destined for a short life.

Hemophilia condemns its sufferers to bleed longer than a healthy person would when hurt. The lightest bump can trigger painful attacks of internal bleeding that may prove fatal because of an inability of the blood to clot. A hemophiliac can hemorrhage for hours and days on end resulting in painful and rock-hard hematomas. Should their joints bleed, hemophiliacs will suffer excruciating agony before being permanently crippled if such episodes become a common occurrence, for once blood enters a joint, it wreaks total havoc, damaging the bone and the surrounding tissue.

Hemophilia is a capricious disease, completely unpredictable. It is pretty much impossible to prevent attacks. A small bump or cut can be no cause for concern one day, and then the next day, a similar injury will leave the sufferer bedridden for weeks. Months and even years can go by without a minor episode, and then suddenly, a dangerous attack will ensue, and so will the difficult task of keeping the victim alive.

The Tsar and Tsarina are under no illusions. They know about hemophilia's effects on its victims. Nicholas can not bear that his only son, his lovable Alexei, stands condemned by medical science to either die at an early age or become an invalid. He would never falter in his love for his wife, but that doesn't stop Alexandra from blaming herself due to the fact Tsarevich Alexei inherited the deadly illness from her family.

Both husband and wife fear for the dynasty as well. They fear for their son's future claim, and most importantly, for Russia. If Nicholas and Alexandra's opponents were to ever find out an invalid is next in line to the throne, they could be emboldened to promote other family members as more suitable heirs. Disunity would then ensue, leading to unimaginable troubles. To make matters worse, Alexandra is already unpopular, and what little popularity she has gained after giving birth to Alexei would most likely vanish if everyone knew just how precarious his health truly is and the fact she is the cause of it.

The imperial couple has been compelled not only to keep their son's illness a closely guarded secret known only by a close circle of family members and loyal retainers, but to continue living in the cocooned Alexander Palace at Tsarskoye Selo as if on an official self-imposed exile from St. Petersburg, an exile neither Nicholas nor Alexandra suffer from.

A few days followong his son's bleeding incident, the worried Nicholas had to leave his Tsarskoye Selo nest briefly, upsetting Olga. Alexandra was more than ready to comfort her husband with letters though.

"What joy your sweet letter brought me", Nicholas wrote back to her. "I found it in the afternoon, and in the evening, before I went to sleep, such a wonderful surprise from our baby. The tiny shoe and the little glove smelled like him so sweetly, and the photograph I had not seen before is charming; the resemblance is remarkable. Thank you many, many times, dear, for your foresight that moved me so much. Only the wife can come up with something like this to bring pleasure to her hubby when he is away. Your telegrams calm me down very much, and I feel closer to all of you as I receive news from you twice a day. It was hard to leave you yesterday. I had to gather all my will…. I was so amazed and moved by Olga's behavior, and I could not even imagine that she was crying because of me before you explained the reason to me. I now begin to feel lonelier without children than before—that is what being an old, experienced papa means!"

Oo

The little Alexei recovered quickly, so the rest of the year was fairly happy and mostly uneventful for the Romanov family. Alexandra and her daughters kept knitting for and playing with the soldiers. The little pair invented new games and stories. The big pair were busy with their lessons at times, but they had more than enough free time to write to their grandmother, cousins, and aunts regularly. They often went horse riding, and once winter made its presence known throughout Tsarskoye Selo, Olga and Tatiana started ice skating on the artificial lakes of the Alexander Park, frequently doing so with their beloved father. The girls have lots of fun holding hands, trying not to fall, and laughing at each other when they inevitably do fall anyway.

Sonia Orbeliani has been well. The girls and their mother have spent a considerable amount of time with her.

But what the whole family agrees on is that the best part of the year has definitely been baby Alexei. He absolutely adored his first Christmas, which was very noticeable, much to the little girls' delight.

Beautiful fir-trees decorate Tsarskoe Selo during Christmas time. One of them is put up downstairs in the Empress's Big Living Room, another one is placed upstairs in the nursery or playroom, and a last one is set up upstairs in the servantsʼ quarters. The first fir-tree to be lit is the one in the nursery when the children get their presents.

These holidays, furthermore, the Metropolitan came to visit, and not only did he give both Olga and Tatiana a prayer book, but he also gifted the five children another wonderful Christmas tree that baby Alexei truly loved.

The special tree has a light inserted at the top, making angels rotate when it heats up. From the moment he first saw this, the months-old baby boy has been mesmerized, his big eyes focusing in disbelief. Little drives his attention away.

The four girls also loved the tree, and when Tatiana saw her little brother's reaction to it, she begged her mother to let her carry him closer so he could see better. The delighted Alexandra consented, not without making sure her daughter was properly supervised around the baby first.

The imperial family has spent many joyful hours indulging little Alexei together, the big pair often taking turns holding him in their arms. The two girls can show their brother the lovely tree from up close that way, they can watch him smile as his curious gaze meets the flying angels. Maria and Anastasia will then look up at him with adoration as he tries to touch the tree, their parents standing around watching, beaming with pride and waiting for their turn to hold the family's tiny treasure.

Despite his incredibly young age, the four sisters already love playing with Alexei. Anastasia enjoys trying to make him smile by clapping, showing him her toys, or making funny faces at him. She rarely fails.

Throughout Christmas season, the imperial family attends several lavish receptions, the little Grand Duchesses wearing their most elegant white lace dresses. Diplomats, aristocrats, and members of the army are among the many guests of these prestigious palace parties, some of which are organized for poor and orphaned children, who get to see their Empress in a beautiful court dress and receive magnificent presents from her.

The Russian Orthodox celebrate the nativity on a later date than Catholics and Protestants do. Christmas dinner is usually a rather private family affair. Nicholas, Alexandra, and their children eat in a small room outside of which there are Cossack guards standing on duty. Once the dessert has been served and enjoyed, the Emperor and his wife will leave the room and ring a bell, signaling to the imperial children that they are now allowed to rush outside and run towards the Christmas tree, next to which there is a table with a white tablecloth and presents lined up on top. This year, Anastasia pushed and screamed her way to becoming the winner of the noisy and joyful race.

The next morning, the spirit of Christmas was felt all throughout the Alexander Palace as the sisters giggled and played together with their new toys, the little Alexei observing them and making little cooing sounds. With great delight and pleasure, Nicholas and Alexandra watched as their children enjoyed themselves.

It has been a Christmas like no other for the four young girls. They have gotten to share it with the family's newest addition. Alexandra and her daughters have enjoyed singing Christmas carols to baby Alexei quite a lot. Olga has given her little brother lessons about the meaning of Christmas, walking him through each tradition as if he could understand her. Tatiana never misses the chance to kiss the child's cheeks as she carries him from place to place.

Still, the babyʼs illness often troubles Olga and Tatiana. Anastasia is still too young to understand the true gravity of the situation, but Tatiana remembers with horror the night she accidentally found out about it. Olga, on the other hand, takes the conversation she and Tatiana had with their mother a few months ago very seriously.

"You must be very careful", Alexandra told her two eldest daughters. "Always, in every situation. If you are the one carrying him, you hold him gently and make sure neither his little feet nor arms get bumped into anything. If the little pair is close to him, make sure they behave themselves and don't move around too abruptly, not near him, you know how mischievous they can be, especially Anastasia."

"Yes mama", Tatiana replied, sounding incredibly decisive for someone as young. "I will always, always take care of him, and nothing bad will happen to him ever, ever, ever."

"I know you will, both of you are responsible little girlies", she paused, smiling at them, "well, not so little anymore."

"Yes", Olga grinned.

"And what was our most important rule?" The Empress raised an eyebrow in mock sternness.

"Not to tell anyone", both sisters answered at the same time.

"Exactly dearies, this is a private family matter, not something to share with strangers."

For the first time since she could remember, Olga didn't feel smug about having had an important, grown up conversation with her mother excluding her little sisters. She simply felt a sense of purpose, of having an important mission trusted to her.

Maria didn't react well to the news of her brother's illness. "Is the baby going to die?" She couldn't help but cry. Her devoted sisters and mother soothed her easily enough by explaining to her that nothing bad would happen if they were all careful with him, also further motivating the little girl to follow her mother's rules on how to behave around the infant.

Christmas has gone by, but the tree is still up in the playroom where Olga and Tatiana sit cross-legged on the ground, knitting and embroidering items for the soldiers. The four little girls are still obsessed with their new baby. Opposite from the big pair and close to the tree are Maria, Anastasia, and baby Alexei, who had been laid by the nannies on an improvised crib made up of cushions so that his big sisters can crawl around him.

"How funny of Masha to send that letter to Cousin Dmitri", Olga smiles.

"It is good that she is writing more and more", Tatiana replies.

"Yes, but remember that time she told us that he looked 'so much like a soldier' in his new Chevalier Guard regiment uniform?" Olga smirks. "You know what that means, too bad he likes Cousin Irina."

"Olga!" Tatiana giggles. "Just because she always marries a soldier in our games doesn't mean she likes every soldier!" Despite her playful scolding, Tatiana can't hide the amusement her sister's comment has aroused in her. She starts laughing with Olga, both looking over their younger sisters with fondness.

"Muah!" The little Anastasia leans to kiss one of baby Alexei's chubby cheeks. The six-month-old has grown quite fat. His hair has also grown, turning slightly darker and more reddish with each passing week. It now resembles three-year-old Anastasia's lovely strawberry blond and is curling adorably over his forehead.

"Muah!" Maria follows, planting a kiss on his opposite cheek. Alexei moves his hands and feet under the blanket, looks up, and smiles at his sisters, making them giggle. "He likes it!" The five-year old gushes, looking between her little brother and sister.

"Now at the same time", Anastasia suggests, and both sisters lean over to kiss Alexei again, this time simultaneously. "Muah!" They exclaim.

"Careful", Tegleva reminds the girls with an amused expression. Maria Vishnyakova, Shura, and two more nannies are standing or kneeling close by, anxiously watching over the three youngest children.

Alexei makes a loud sound, convincing his sisters that he appreciates their tenderness. They kiss his cheeks again.

"For how long will you two be doing that?" Olga laughs. It has been little less than an hour since Maria and Anastasia started their silliness.

"He is going to become annoyed and start crying", Tatiana adds with a grin.

"Nope", Anastasia shakes her head proudly. She knows, much to her and Maria's delight, that their baby brother has been cooing and smiling nonstop ever since they began this affectionate little game of theirs.

"Muah!" Maria and Anastasia keep kissing and hugging the baby amidst giggles, their nannies making sure they don't actually squeeze him.

When Nicholas and Alexandra enter the room, Olga, Tatiana, and Anastasia rush to hug them. Maria doesn't move. She takes her little brother's hand and stares at him with lovesick eyes as she waits for her parents to come.

"What do we have here?" Alexandra asks her four daughters as she hugs Olga. "Is the little man doing well?"

"He woke up from a nap an hour ago, Your Majesty", one of the nannies says.

"Yeah!" Anastasia is being held in her father's arms, for once writhing to be let go. "Let me show you! Let me show you!" Nicholas lays her back down, smiling. His little girl is too excited.

The parents beam with pride as Maria and Anastasia show them their new game. Olga and Tatiana giggle at the sight.

"Muah!" The two youngest girls exclaim as they kiss Alexei. "Muah!"

"Oh, my darlings!" Alexandra cries out, her heart overwhelmed with love. "You two are so sweet, so loving."

"Our little Alexei is so lucky to have such loving sisters", Nicholas jokes.

"We like him," Anastasia raises her arms up in celebration, "that is why we are giving him lots of kisses!"

"And hugs!" Maria adds, and they both keep showering their younger brother with kisses on the forehead and cheeks complemented by gentle pats on the stomach. "I think he really likes us giving him many kisses and hugs."

"It seems so", Nicholas grins. His little Alexei turns around and smiles widely at Anastasia just as she straightens up after having kissed him.

"He loves us!" Maria clasps her hands together, and when she kisses Alexei again, the baby starts making a sound that is far too loud and far too close to that of laughter. He had never laughed before.

"Look mama!" Tatiana points at her brother, looking between him and Alexandra. "He is laughing!"

"He is!" Nicholas exclaims. The two parents are so endeared by what they are seeing and hearing that all they can do for seconds is smile at their son and nod their heads frantically. He truly is laughing at the faces Maria and Anastasia are making, or at least trying to, his cheeks becoming pinker than usual.

The whole family kneels closely around the cushions where Alexei lies. Nicholas puts his arms around Olga and Tatiana, who are squealing with excitement.

Alexandra takes her sunbeamʼs small hand in hers, her two youngest daughters still playing with him. "My love, how are you?" She speaks to him. "Do you like your sisters? Yes you do!" She finishes using a silly voice and then kisses the baby, who is now blowing bubbles with his mouth and moving his little legs and arms.

"From the moment they wake up they are asking to see him, Your Majesty", Shura says with a grin, causing Vishnyakova to nod in agreement. "Right girls? You wake up and the first thing you do is try to see him, you would be there in his face all day long if we allowed it."

Alexandra looks at each of her daughters and then shakes her head playfully. The four girls chuckle.

"We also tickle him", Anastasia proceeds to show her mother how. The baby's laughter becomes louder. From the opposite side of the cushion crib, Maria places her palm on Alexei's chest and shakes him gently from left to right. Alexei stares directly at Maria as his laughter keeps going stronger than ever. Maria smiles back, widely, and she too begins laughing when Alexei extends one of his arms to touch her hands and face as if to play with or show affection to her as well.

Tears of joy well up in Alexandra's eyes at the sight.

"Oh, papa!" Olga lays her head on her father's shoulder. "He is so happy!"

After a few more minutes gushing around Alexei and trying to make him laugh, the family leaves him in the care of his nannies. They head outside to go ice skating on the frozen ponds of the Alexander Park.

Oo

St. Petersburg. January, 1905.

Winter transforms the Empire's capital immensely every year. Gone are the autumn leaves, the wheeled carriages, and the sound of the river flowing. They have been replaced by frozen canals, icy roads, and a blanket of snow covering both the roofs and the ground. The carriages wear long blades instead of wheels. Now the horses slide them through the streets.

Gone with the summer is Sudayev's optimism. Nothing has changed in his workplace. The conditions are as grim and dangerous as ever. His salary is low and the debt he has accumulated these past few months is high. He is trying hard not to think of that right now though. Like several other people around him, Ivan is ice skating with his brother and children on what used to be a fairly big canal. Maria decided not to come because she was worried about falling and losing the baby she is now expecting.

The cold stings their faces, but otherwise, Ivan, Ilya, Kostya, and the five-year-old Dmitri are sufficiently warm in their light brown fur-lined sheepskin pants and coats, black woolen scarves and gloves, and dark fur hats. Even the little Sonya has come. She is little more than a year old, but the precocious little girl already walks, and her brother is holding her by the hand, teaching her how to skate on her old miniature blades, a pair that used to belong to one of Ilya's children. She often falls, but her older brother is always there to catch her, and even if he were to fail, her winter clothes are thick enough to soften any blow.

Together, Dmitri and Sonya giggle their way around several groups of people skating nearby. They are slightly ahead of their elders.

"Slower!" Ilya skates behind the children. "And don't go over there, Dmitri! The ice is thin!"

"It is never thin enough for what you fear this time of the year, brother, relax", Ivan pats Ilya's shoulder before accelerating just enough to reach his two children and then place himself right in front of them, skating backwards to be able to look over them both.

Despite having to keep an eye on both his children to make sure none of them gets hurt, it is only at times like these that Ivan gets to put his mind at ease. It is likewise a relief to know that Kostya is slowly coming out of his shell and enjoying life in the small ways he is still able to.

"Are you two having a good time?" The father asks his children.

"Yeah", Dmitri nods, smiling. "Sophia is loving it! I think she is learning, I am teaching her almost all by myself, papa!"

"I am glad, Dima", Ivan pats Dmitri on his hat-covered head, almost unable to believe he almost gave up on this by doing something that could have landed him in jail or worse. Ivan does miss the friendships he made among the anarchists and worries they may resent him for cutting ties with the movement, but all in all, he does not regret his decision.

The family slows down near the edge of the canal. On the street and close to the frozen water stands a robust old man with a long beard. He wears a bandolier with special cups tied in and holds a big copper kettle. He is selling sbiten, a hot winter beverage of a dark purple appearance made up of honey, jam, and spices that is advertised with loud calls.

Holding the little Sonya in his arms, Ivan approaches the man and asks him for four cups of the sweet beverage. As the man begins to serve them, Ivan watches as his son skates nearby. Dmitri's short size has allowed him to sneak right under people's legs several times, making them lose balance or at least shriek in surprise.

"Dmitri Ivanovich Sudayev, apologize!" Ilya yells at his nephew, but Ivan just laughs.

"Tell your uncle you can do whatever you want, Dima", Ivan shouts so that his son can hear him. "Tell him, 'leave me alone, uncle!'"

Baby Sophia makes a good attempt at uttering those same words out loud before her brother can.

"Leave me alone, uncle!" Dmitri all but chuckles at Ilya as he keeps skating dangerously close to a couple of lovesick teenagers. Ivan and Kostya both laugh at the sight of the lad protecting his sweetheart from Dmitri as if the latter were a dangerous mythical creature.

The man selling sbiten starts handing over the cups, now full. Ivan gives Kostya's to his brother Ilya so that the latter can help the disabled man drink. The father catches sight of his Dima mimicking the young couple he almost hit at full speed, exaggerating the girl's loud shriek and acting out the boy's excessive worry for the girl, who honestly seemed perfectly fine. Ivan almost chokes on his drink laughing.

"Look at him, Ivan", Ilya grumbles, "look how disrespectful he has become." But if anything, Ivan is proud of his son's fun loving personality.

Dima pulls more pranks than any child Ivan has ever known, frequently making such witty comments that even the adults and strangers around him laugh. On one occasion, Dmitri placed a cockroach inside Ilya's cap shortly before he put it on, this without anyone noticing. Ivan still chuckles at the memory of his brother jumping, running from one side of the flat to the other, and touching his hair over and over again in a desperate search for the insect. Last winter, Dmitri soaked Andrei's spare pants in water and then hanged them outside. The next time Andrei needed them, the trousers were completely frozen, more similar to a sculpture than a pair of pants.

Ivan is indeed proud, and he is also relieved that nothing they have gone through has managed to break Dmitri's spirit. Only the sbiten vendor demanding his pay distracts the father from his happy memories. Ivan lays Sophia back on the ice and puts a hand in his pocket, only to feel it empty. He quickly checks his other pocket, but to his horror, it is also empty. Anxiously, Ivan asks both Kostya and Ilya if he lent either of them the money earlier.

"Did you take it for some reason, perhaps?" He insists. "I will not be angry."

"No, Ivan", Kostya replies. "Are you sure you didn't leave it at home?"

Ivan shakes his head and then directs an apologetic look at the man selling sbiten. The vendor's expression becomes stern. What is Ivan going to do now? Should he and his family make a run for it now that they still can in the hopes that the man won't call the police? And where the hell is that money? Even a single ruble means the world to a family like his, he is already working fifteen hours a day and his salary hasn't increased a kopek!

Ivan feels something tugging his shirt and looks down.

"I am a sly fox!" Dmitri extends his arm and gives the many coins he has taken back to his father, who for seconds is too stunned for words.

"That boy will go far!" Kostya laughs. This time, Ilya laughs too.

"When did you take them, Dima?" Ivan asks as he pays the vendor. "And how? I didn't notice you doing it, a very well executed mischief, my boy, was it not?"

"I am a sly fox!" The little boy exclaims with pride again, wearing a mischievous grin.

"Yes you are, Dima!" Ivan hands the child his cup of sbiten. "I am so proud!" Dmitri takes a sip of the beverage before sharing it with Sophia.

Once the Sudayev family and their friend Kostya have finished drinking their sbiten, they return the cups to the vendor and keep skating forward. When Sophia becomes tired, Ivan carries her in his arms the rest of the way back home. All but the little girl chat as they skate.

"And look papa", Dmitri takes two wallets out of his pocket. "Look what I also took without anyone noticing."

"How…?" Ivan's eyes open wide.

"I was going too fast for them to notice! You will be able to pay all you owe now, right papa?"

"Oh, no, little one", Kostya shakes his head, "you can't do that."

"You little…" Ilya stops on his tracks with a sudden and harsh movement of his skates. He then glares at his brother. Ivan and Kostya have both slowed down. No one is smiling anymore. "This is all your fault, Ivan!" Ilya exclaims. "This is your doing and yours only, this is what you are teaching him!"

Dmitri looks between his father and uncle with concern. This was supposed to be fun. This was supposed to solve all of his family's problems, not make them fight.

"Don't be ridiculous", Ivan's voice is firm, but his true feelings regarding the situation are quite different. He doesn't think his brother was being ridiculous. At all. "Look, Dima", he kneels down in order to be at his son's level, as if they were equals. "It is true that sometimes I steal little things for you when we don't have enough money for them, but that is for grownups to do, alright? It is dangerous, and if someone saw you…"

"They didn't see me, papa!" Dmitri reminds his father.

"I know, but you won't always be as lucky, and, and…" Ivan remembers he hasn't actually had a serious conversation with his son about jail or even the police. He decides to do so sometime later. "Shop owners have plenty of money, Dima, whilst the people you stole those wallets from may need them more than even we do. Imagine how worried they will be when they find out their money is gone, imagine how sad your papa would be if his money had really gone missing today, you should think about it."

"Is that it?" Ilya shakes his head and frowns. "Ivan, he is not going to listen to you if you are not consistent with your…"

He keeps talking, but Ivan simply rolls his eyes as he tries to pretend his younger brother's lecturing on how to raise his kids isn't irritating him. Perhaps Ilya is making a fuss out of nothing. Besides, there is plenty of time for Dmitri to learn in which circumstances it is forgivable or even adequate for him to break the rules and when it is that he must instead behave like a responsible member of society. The child is only five, and Ivan isn't going anywhere.

Oo

The birth of an heir has brought about joy, but no luck. The morale of Alexei's "godfathers" deteriorates day by day. The Japanese bombardment has been way too successful, the Pacific Fleet is mostly gone, and Nicholas has more than once wondered whether he should order his Baltic Fleet to cross the ocean to face the Japanese.

The Grand Duke Alexei Alexandrovich has little clue of what to do, and he is still the General-Admiral of the Russian Imperial Fleet. As a strong opponent of naval reform, the Grand Duke is considered partly responsible for each disaster. In 1904, the windows of his St. Petersburg place were smashed, and later that same year, the audience of the city's French theatre hissed him from the building.

To make matters worse, when it was finally decided to transfer the Russian Baltic Fleet to the Pacific Ocean, the fleet commander Admiral Rozhdestvensky almost involved Russia in a war with England.

Not only were the English allied to the Japanese already, but Admiral Rozhdestvensky had been much aghast by Japan's surprise torpedo attack on the fleet at Port Arthur and worried such tactics might have a sequel. What he suspected is that Japanese ships flying false colors would slip through neutral European waters to deliver the Russian navy another blow. In order to avoid such happening, Admiral Rozhdestvensky ordered extra lookouts posted from the moment his ships left home port. Steaming at night through the North Sea in a state of alert, a couple of Russian captains suddenly found themselves surrounded by a flotilla of small boats. Without asking questions, their guns sent shells crashing into the frail hulls of what were actually British fishing boats sailing the waters of Dogger Bank. Two fishermen were decapitated.

The Russians soon realized their mistake. Admiral Rozhdestvensky, however, was so scared that, rather than picking up the survivors, he steamed off into the night. Britain was understandably outraged, but Nicholas, already irritated by the English diplomatic support of Japan, was in no mood to apologize. "Yesterday I sent a telegram to Uncle Bertie, expressing my regret," he wrote in a letter to his mother, "but I did not apologize… I do not think the English will have the cheek to go further than to indulge in threats."

The Russian Ambassador in London, Count Benckendorff, recommended that Great Britain and Russia submit the matter to the International Court at The Hague. Nicholas reluctantly agreed, and Russia ended up paying £65,000 in damages.

Because Russia's economy has slipped into a severe recession, the workers' living conditions have only worsened since the beginning of the war. Production, foreign trade, and government revenue have all declined as well, compelling companies to dismiss thousands of workers and increase pressure on those they retain.

In consequence, homelessness and poverty have increased, and the tsarist government's only response has been asking zemstvo leaders to organise charitable relief. Food prices in the cities have also risen, but wages have failed to grow correspondingly.

As if this weren't enough, factory owners arbitrarily impose fines for lateness, failing to meet production quotas, and even trivial offenses such as toilet breaks and talking or singing during work hours.

The strikes and riots continue, the Tsar's authority shaking everywhere.

As the siege of Port Arthur reached its end, students and workers kept going out and protesting while liberal intellectuals demanded a constitutional reform. The new Minister of the Interior, Prince Pyotr Dmitrievich Svyatopolk-Mirsky, has advised the Tsar to concede to an elected legislative chamber.

"If you don't", he warned him during a meeting, "the change will come in the form of a violent and bloody revolution."

"You know very well I don't insist on autocracy for myself", the Emperor replied gravely, sounding as if he were giving a sermon, "I do so solely for the good of Russia." After a brief pause, and knowing very well he was backed up by his uncle Sergei, he added: "I will never agree to any form of representative government because I consider it harmful to the people whose care the Almighty has trusted me with." He paused again. "Every option has failed. Let's just build more prisons."

On January 2, Port Arthur surrendered. After this humiliating defeat, everything seemed lost. A wave of protest against mismanagement of the war swept across the country. Revolution was knocking on the nation's door.

There was yet another strike at the huge Putilov Steel Works of St. Petersburg, one that spread until thousands of disillusioned and restless workers were out on strike, hindering the level of production required for the war. Father Gapon was among those swept along. Fate had provided him with a choice, and he chose to act. He couldn't stay silent as thousands of workers and their children died each day under inhumane working and living conditions not fit for animals.

Rejecting his role as an agent of the police, he chose to lead. For almost a week, he has gone from meeting hall to meeting hall, delivering dozens of speeches, amassing support, and day by day enlarging his list of demands in conjunction with a large number of steelworkers.

Father Gapon has, in fact, fully embraced socialism, sharing many ideals with the Socialist Revolutionaries in particular. In spite of this, he still has some faith left in the Tsar, a conditional sort of faith. The Tsar is supposed to be a father to his people. That is what the peasants call him, after all, "batiushka", "little father", and no father worth having would refuse to heed the cries of his children.

Oo

On January 19, a new massive offensive in the Far East was ordered, the same day Tsar Nicholas II assisted the traditional Blessing of the Waters in St. Petersburg.

Walking alongside imperial courtiers and senior members of the Russian Orthodox Church, Emperor Nicholas II was part of a procession down the Jordan Staircase from the first floor of the Winter Palace to the bank of the Neva River for the Blessing of the Waters during the feast of Epiphany, which commemorates Christ's Baptism in the Jordan River.

A temporary wooden pavilion is constructed every year on the embankment facing the steps leading down to the Neva. The Metropolitan of St. Petersburg dips a cross into a hole made in the ice. A small cup is then dipped into the water and presented to the Emperor, who takes a sip before handing it back to the Metropolitan. Lastly, prayers are said for the health of the Tsar and his family. The common people usually flock in order to collect the holy water, which is believed to have protective and curative powers. The Tsarina, Grand Duchesses, and members of the diplomatic corps witness the ceremony from the windows of the Winter Palace.

The blessing is marked by a military gun salute. This tumultuous year, however, an unexpected incident occurred. Among the many blank saluting cartridges was at least one weapon loaded with live ammunition that happened to be aimed right at the pavilion where the Tsar was.

Nicholas stayed calm, only crossing himself upon hearing the shell whizz over his head. A police officer was injured by the explosion. Nobody else was harmed, but four of the Winter Palace's windows were destroyed, the Tsarina and her daughters were terrified, and the Tsar's mother, Dowager Empress Maria, was sprinkled in broken glass.

The subsequent official investigation concluded that the incident had been an accident caused by negligence, as the artillery hadn't been properly cleaned after target practice two days earlier. Not everyone believed this though. There had been many assassinations and attempts against government officials lately, and blank salutes aren't traditionally aimed right at the Emperor.

Oo

St. Petersburg. January, 1905.

"Fellow Russians, look around you!" The priest proclaims loudly. "Our country is in chaos. This war with Japan has been a mistake, a complete disaster. You are not the only workers who have been on strike these past few months, but the police mistreat us whenever we try to speak up. It's freezing, but most of you can't afford to heat your homes, and many of your children go hungry! How much more of this can we take?!"

Dmitri stayed inside the flat playing with Sophia, and so did most of the neighborhood children, but all of the adult residents of the Sudayev brothers' community are outside, crowding around Father Gapon. Elevated above them by the steps leading up to one of the several living quarters he has visited today, the priest rallies the workers with an extravagantly theatrical vision:

"The time is right. I will personally lead you, my flock, in a march to the Winter Palace, where I will meet the Tsar himself and hand him over a petition on behalf of the Russian people. I have been spreading the word around, and now I am urging you to join your fellow countrymen in this large gathering."

The crowd murmurs. Some seem to embrace the idea wholeheartedly, Ilya and Maria amongst them, while others, like Ivan, are a bit more skeptical. He has decided not to protest though. It may work for all he knows, and he is glad the priest has finally decided to do something about their situation.

"You have planned a revolution all on your own?" A man asks. "Will you provide the weapons too?"

"No, no!" Father Gapon seems startled by the question. "This is not a revolution, this is a peaceful protest. We seek to convince the Tsar to hear us and speak with us. There will be no revolutionaries allowed, and no armed civilians either. In fact, I have already sent letters informing the government of our upcoming procession."

More than one simultaneous conversation can be discerned among those in the crowd. The people have questions.

"What does the appeal contain?" One of the voices inquires louder than the others.

"A list of grievances", Gapon replies, "so that the Tsar can understand what exactly it is that torments his people."

"Because the ministers know nothing!" A woman shouts.

"Look at my children!" A man holding his small son and daughter in his arms tries to get closer to the priest. The people around them move over, allowing them to come through. The small family looks tired and dirty. "My boy and my little girl are hungry! My wife cannot work while pregnant and I don't make enough to provide for them no matter how long I work and how hard I try… will your appeal help us, father?"

"Yes!" Gapon replies solemnly. "Fairer wages, sick leave, better working conditions, and an eight-hour work day are among the demands."

An eight-hour workday. Ivan would kill for such a thing. Discussion ensues among the crowd again. This time, everyone seems to be taken with the idea of marching to the Winter Palace together.

"I am all for it", Ivan says. "You say you have spoken to several other people already, have many agreed to join the protest?"

"You are not alone in this, the people of Russia are awakening!" Gapon proclaims. "And when they do, the despotic and irresponsible government and the capitalist exploiters, crooks, and robbers will stand in the way of the Tsar and his people no more!"

The crowd cheers. The priest can see it so clearly. There, on a balcony above a vast sea of hopeful Russian women and children, their little father will, as in the Russian fairy tales, deliver his precious people from their evil oppressors. He tells the people so.

Maria doesn't read minds, but the priest describes everything so vividly that she has the same image in her mind. She looks over to her smiling husband and kisses him. Ilya then touches her growing belly gently. Oh, what a dream! It would be so exciting to actually meet a Tsar! And if he agrees to the petition, maybe this new child of theirs will get to live, and do so better than anyone else in her family has.

The petition will also demand a constituent assembly, universal suffrage, universal education, separation of church and state, amnesty for all political prisoners, and an income tax. Gapon didn't talk to these workers about any of this though. Members of the Assembly of Russian Factory and Mill Workers such as Ivan and Ilya are aware of the documentʼs contents and even had a role in its drafting, but Gapon knows not all workers are as politically minded, and he hides or reveals information accordingly.

Oo

Father Gapon informed the government of when the march would take place and asked for the Tsar to be present to receive his petition. Mirsky was alarmed. He and the other ministers had an impromptu meeting to discuss the situation. Petitions to the Tsar can be made in the written form following a special protocol, but protest of any sort isn't usually condoned in the Empire, much less a demonstration as big as the one Gapon claims to have planned. Then there is the fact neither Mirsky nor the other ministers trust this bizarre socialist priest. Even assuming his motives are genuine, there is little chance a crowd as enormous will be orderly. And what if they try to break into the Winter Palace?

These were the concerns that plagued the ministers. Asking the Tsar to receive the petition as Gapon had intended, however, was not even taken into consideration. Even the reasonable suggestion of having some other member of the imperial family receive the petition was rejected. The ministers then contemplated plucking Gapon from among his followers in order to place him under arrest for his illegal rally, but after the Prefect of Police informed them that this would be next to impossible, Mirsky and his colleagues could think of nothing to do but bring additional troops into the city in the hopes that matters would not get out of hand.

The sovereign was, as usual, residing in the Alexander Palace. Only the night before the protest did he learn about it for the first time from Mirsky, who advised him to remain in Tsarskoye Selo for his own safety, assuring him that the upcoming procession was no cause for concern and that everything was under control in the city.

"Troops have been brought from the outskirts to reinforce the garrison," Nicholas wrote in his diary. "Up to now the workers have been calm. Their number is estimated at 120,000. At the head of their union is a kind of socialist priest named Gapon. Mirsky came this evening to present his report on the measures taken."

For a brief moment, he contemplated being there, on that balcony, but Alexandra reminding him of the latest Blessing of the Waters dissuaded him. "You don't need to put on a theatrical act and compromise your safety in the process", she said. "There are proper ways to make requests."

But it was the memory of his late grandfather that extinguished Nicholas's remaining doubt.

Oo

St. Petersburg. January 22.

An icy wind blows through the streets of St. Petersburg as the Grand Duke Konstantin emerges from the bath-house.

"How many times must I beg God for forgiveness?" He mutters to himself. Every penance is meaningless. He always sins again. Eventually. "Now I will return home to my wife, too sullied to kiss her trusting lips, and yet I will, and I will tell her lies and spend the rest of this Sunday praying like a Pharisee in the Temple."

Disgust and shame. The familiar emotions rage in his head. Then comes remorse. He steps out onto the open street and is startled by a patrol of Cossacks galloping nearby. Konstantin almost wishes they were coming for him, to expose him for his degenerate hypocrisy and free his wife. But deep down, the Grand Duke knows no one will come to save him from his own flesh. Half the city is on strike, and several factories are currently run by anarchists and socialists.

The Cossack patrol has passed by when Konstantin sees a group of Hussars, among whom is Prince Mirsky. Konstantin quickens his pace, walking now with rounded shoulders and his head down, so unlike the Grand Duke he is, all in an attempt not to grab the minister's attention. He fails miserably.

"Your Highness!" Mirsky exclaims. "It is dangerous outside today!"

"What is happening?" Konstantin asks. Safe in the knowledge he hasn't attracted suspicions, he regains his composure.

"Some deranged socialist priest plans to march along with his large group of followers to the Winter Palace in order to petition the Tsar."

"His Majesty isn't in the Winter Palace", Konstantin frowns. "He is at Tsarskoye Selo."

"I know," Mirsky nods. "It is safer there, and Your Highness should return home as well. Even assuming most of the people mean no harm, there is no way of telling what may happen with a crowd this huge let loose in the city, we are taking very strong measures but..."

"Strong measures?"

"There are soldiers stationed at each of the Neva bridges. If the crowds attempt to cross..."

"You will shoot them?!" Konstantin gasps in horror.

"It won't come to that", Mirsky defensively replies. "We have everything under control. A few warning shots will be more than enough to disperse everyone. Now if you will excuse me, Your Highness, I must carry on, but I insist that Your Highness returns home."

"Yes, of course."

Konstantin sees more troops passing along after the Minister of the Interior leaves. He makes sure they are out of sight before hurrying towards the carriage that always awaits him several blocks away from the brothel or bath-house, not close enough to arouse suspicions.

The coachman has barely turned the corner when he has to stop the carriage. Konstantin looks through the window. The amassing crowds are blocking the route, he observes, but it doesn't seem to be something they are doing deliberately. There are just too many of them, happy workers with no aggression on their faces.

After a few minutes of trial and error, the driver figures out how to move among the crowd, but at a turtle's pace. Every street is as full as the other, and at some point, the horses become too frightened to walk. For almost an hour, Konstantin is stuck inside the slow moving carriage until he can't stand it any longer.

"Wait for me here", Konstantin pushes the door open. "I'll walk ahead to see if I can find a clearer route."

"Are you sure, sir?" The coachman asks. "It may be dangerous."

"Don't worry, I will be back soon."

The atmosphere is peaceful and even joyful. The way men, women, and children smile and greet one another reminds Konstantin more of a church procession than a protest. He sees amongst them a red haired man carrying a skinny black haired boy over his shoulders. Next to them are two other men, one of whom is holding in his arms a little girl who seems no older than a year old. Her red hair indicates they are all related in some way. A pregnant woman wearing a white headscarf and a light blue dress walks alongside them holding an icon of the Theotokos in her hands.

A perfect picture of innocence, Konstantin decides, and they are not alone. There are several families with small children marching, and most of them carry religious icons too. Others hold in their arms images of the Tsar and Tsarina, from small portraits to huge banners asserting their loyalty and allegiance to the little father and little mother of Russia.

The workers have burst into songs that ring through the streets. Songs of peace, faith, and loyalty to the Tsar. No place could be less dangerous.

Feeling something tugging at his sleeve, Konstantin looks around, and then, seeing no one, he looks down as well.

"You're a gentleman, sir", the tiny old woman beside him wears a toothless smile, "I can tell by the cut of your clothes, so elegant!" Konstantin smiles at her. "Could you even be a prince?" She raises her eyebrows in expectation.

Konstantin nods. The woman's innocence and lack of hostility makes him forget for an instant that he fears being recognized.

"Tell me, sir," she continues, sounding adorably excited. "Have you ever met His Majesty?"

"Yes," Konstantin replies. "He is my friend." The old woman gasps, clasping her gnarled hands to her wrinkled face in awe. She abruptly grabs Konstantin's hand and kisses it many times reverently.

"That is amazing, amazing!" She cries. "You probably see him every day! But today is a blessing, sir, do you know why? We're going to show him how much we love him, and we do hope we will get to meet him, so he can show us he loves us too, because he does love us, doesn't he? Do you know if he loves us, sir?"

"Yes," Konstantin's heart aches. "Of course he does."

"I knew it!" She gushes. "And if he knew how much we suffer, he would help us, which is why we must see him, and when we tell him how bad our conditions are, he will change them for us!"

"If he can", Konstantin stutters after a brief pause, both humbled and disturbed by her blind faith. "But you must understand, it is not always as easy."

"Of course it is, he is God's anointed one!" She laughs. "He can do anything!"

Konstantin wants to reply, to tell her that Nicky is no more nor less a miracle worker than she is, that his friend is nothing but a man burdened with an enormous responsibility and constrained by several powers of opposing interests. He wishes he could explain that Nicholas is a flawed man who may have darkness hidden beyond a facade of perfection, maybe even as much so as Konstantin himself… no, not as much, but every human sins nonetheless. And yet the old babushka's stare is so hopeful that Konstantin doesn't dare utter a word that might disillusion her.

All the Grand Duke does is smile. The woman smiles back and moves along, her voice joining the rest of the people in singing yet another hymn.

Oo

A Cossack messenger gallops through the square towards a couple of colonels, also on horseback, who are stationed in front of the infantry guarding the Winter Palace.

"The troops have already ordered the people to disperse but it seems most of them can't hear us", he informs them, nearly out of breath. "I have already tried to inform them that the Tsar isn't at the palace, but to no avail, it doesn't matter if one or two listen, there are way too many, and they are singing out loud."

"Where is the priest?" One of the colonels asks.

"At the front of the procession, they should be arriving at the square within minutes, and you know what the regulations say regarding how close they can get to the palace."

"Do they seem violent?"

"No, they are just walking."

More and more Cossacks return to the square on horseback after having scouted the procession.

"Gapon has these people mesmerized!" One of them exclaims.

"Here they come!" Another Cossack follows.

"They are close!" A third one informs the infantry guards.

"If that priest thinks he is passing through our lines and storming the palace with nothing more than a cross and a deceiving chorus of 'God Save the Tsar' he's sorely mistaken!" A colonel speaks roughly.

"They outnumber us by the thousands", the other colonel says, shocked. "I am ordering my men to load their weapons, this could get out of hand quickly."

The messenger then asks the first colonel for his orders.

"Confront them again, but we need a display of force in order to disperse them, follow me", he replies, galloping towards the procession and taking several other mounted guards with him.

Oo

Dmitri has had a very exciting day. He may not be very good at it, but the five-year-old likes to sing, and he has sung a lot of hymns today. His aunt Maria's excitement is also contagious, and even more so for a child. All he knows about Tsar Nicholas II is what he has been taught by Aunt Maria, but he is anxious to see him in person, even if it is only from afar. The Tsar is a very powerful man who is going to help his father and uncle. Dmitri wonders if he will give the children presents as well, since he is rich and lives in a giant palace and all. He truly hopes so. Dmitri didn't get anything this Christmas, and he would really love to have a toy train.

The procession moves in a compact mass, getting closer by the minute to the Winter Palace. Many people walk locked arm in arm. Gapon walks ahead, holding his cross. In front of the priest are his two bodyguards and a young fellow with dark eyes from whose face his hard labouring life has not wiped away the light of youthful gaiety. Some of the women insist on walking in the first rows in order to protect Father Gapon with their bodies should anything happen.

On the flanks of the crowd run the children, Dmitri among them. He is playing tag with the other boys and girls, giggling as he tries to catch and avoid being caught by those around his age. The boy is delighted by his surroundings. He has never seen so many people in the streets before. Almost everyone is happy and friendly, talking and singing. Right now, they are singing "God Save the Tsar" again.

A group of mounted Cossacks approach the crowd and Dmitri becomes frightened. He listens to adult conversations. Cossacks are very mean and like to whip people, which must hurt a lot.

"Go back!" One of them yells at the crowd. "The Tsar is not at the palace! Everyone turn around, you are not allowed to be here! Turn around goddamnit!"

Several other mounted guards start shouting the same thing, some of them also calling the marchers obscenities. Dmitri would feel embarrassed if the other children didn't also look scared.

"Not at the palace? How disappointing! It is not fair!" Dmitri complains to Victor, a boy his age and one of his new friends. "My papa, uncles, and aunt should know, they will be very mad!"

Truth be told, Dmitri doesn't believe the Cossacks. Aunt Maria always says there are villains around the Tsar keeping him away from his people, and these must be some of them. Dmitri is proud of having figured this out on his own and can't wait to tell Aunt Maria about it. He wants to kiss Sophia and hug her very, very tightly as well. It has been almost an hour since he last did it! And he has a new idea on how to make her laugh.

The boy also wants his father to carry him over his shoulders again. It was nice to look down and see the huge crowds and their many different crosses and icons of Tsar Nicholas II from up there. Now he wants to get a good view of the beautiful Winter Palace as it becomes bigger and bigger, to imagine what it would be like to live somewhere as wondrous. He already got close to the square while running with his friends, but he would like to see it with his beloved papa.

Dmitri runs ahead of the other children, making his way through the masses of marching men and women. His family is almost at the front, with only one or two lines of people ahead of them.

The men guarding the Winter Palace grow noticeably amazed and frightened by the size of the crowd and the speed in which they march. The mounted Cossacks who approach the people shout instructions for them to disperse, but their warnings are drowned out by the chanting and friendly talking of the far more numerous procession, so they fall on deaf ears.

"I do not see the Tsar", a woman marching behind Father Gapon says.

"He must be inside the palace", the priest replies.

Dmitri gets to his father, who is holding Sonya in his arms. Ilya and Maria are there too, and so is Kostya, who no longer cares about people seeing his scars. Most of the people living in the flat have come too. All of them greet the child smiling.

"There you are, Dima!" Ivan kneels to kiss his son on the forehead, quickly, so as to keep walking. "I was worried you might have gone too far, are you bored?"

"No", Dmitri takes his father's hand. "I just wanted to be here with you when we got to the palace."

"Oh, sweetheart!" Maria exclaims. "Are you excited?"

Dmitri nods. "Can you carry me over your shoulders?" He asks his father, but Ivan doesn't hear him.

"Igor! Igor! The guards of the palace are approaching us", The father speaks out loud to the man walking in front of him, sounding worried. "Could you ask Father Gapon what is happening?"

But before Igor is able to answer, the priestʼs loud voice is heard throughout the first few rows of the procession.

"We are here to speak with the Tsar!" Gapon holds up his petition in clear view. "We come in peace!"

The troops stop. A row of soldiers gets down on one knee, another line of military men tucking in behind, standing. They raise their rifles and point them towards the crowd.

"Stop!" Father Gapon stretches his arms out. "Stop! Stop walking! Stop!"

Ivan opens his eyes wide and with one hand grabs Dmitri by the collar of his winter coat to drag him behind. Ilya, Maria, and Kolya have already halted.

"What are they doing?" Maria asks her husband with a panicked voice.

"What is happening, papa?" Dmitri is too short to see the danger, but Ivan's fear is noticeable, and it is making the boy afraid. "Why do we have to stop?"

"Stop!" Gapon keeps screaming, both at the soldiers ahead and the crowds behind. "Stop!"

Suddenly, Dmitri is pushed forward by a woman who has also been pushed herself. The child falls to his knees and is almost trampled by two men behind, but he recovers quickly, standing up in order to cling to his father, only to gasp in horror upon discovering his family is nowhere to be seen. Unbeknownst to him, they have been pushed further ahead. The crowd at the back is unaware of the new developments and cannot hear Gapon's pleas. They keep moving, oblivious, packing themselves in behind and forcing Gapon and those at the front of the line to keep moving forward.

In front of the guards, a frantic looking colonel gives the signal to open fire. The shots begin to ring out and several people at the front, mostly women, fall instantly.

Dmitri covers his ears and cries as he searches desperately for his father, but all the five-year-old can hear are gunshots and dreadfully loud shrieks of horror, and all he can see are people falling, running, pushing, and trampling each other in panic. He dodges most of them but is once tackled to the ground amidst the chaos and almost trampled again. He runs towards the edge of the wide way in order to escape the terrified crowds as they begin to retreat.

All of the sudden a piercing cry of alarm arises as a company of Cossacks with drawn swords appears right in front of Dmitri, who screams in fear. They seem angry, they seem hateful. There is rage in their faces. They don't want us here, the child thinks. They gallop rapidly towards the people, trampling them with their horses, lifting their swords and hacking the screaming men, women, and children, anyone within arm's reach.

Dmitri turns the other way around and keeps running amidst hundreds and hundreds of terrified people. He starts sobbing, crying for help, screaming out loud, calling for his papa, for his uncles, for his Aunt Maria, and without noticing, for his mama.

The troops continue to fire even as a colonel yells desperately for them to cease. Moans, curses, and shouts fill the air as the people run away from the Winter Palace, many of them carrying blubbering children or wounded loved ones.

"Nicholas wants us dead!" A shaken woman screams in anguish.

"The Tsar will not help us!" Several others cry. "The Tsar will not help us!"

Oo

The tears may still be constantly clouding his sight, but it is only now, after the barrage of gunfire has gone silent, that Dmitri notices most of the snow has turned red.

He keeps walking, still crying, still hoping to find his father among the dozens of men, women, and children weeping over those who have fallen, those who can't weep any longer. He finds corpses instead.

Some of the bodies would appear to be asleep if it weren't for the crimson snow around them, some others have thick red gashes in their necks or faces. Those corpses scare Dmitri so much he always looks away as soon as he encounters them, and yet they still aren't as scary as the heads belonging to the trampled, most of whom were children like Dmitri himself. Some of his new friends…

The women and children's cries are deafening, especially those of the injured. The ambulances have arrived, sledding between the living and the dead. They consist of horse-led covered wagons with red crosses painted on the curtains. People lurch their way to the doctors and nurses, calling for assistance for themselves or their loved ones, but the medical workers seem overwhelmed by the great number of wounded and the absolute carnage of the scene.

Dmitri comes across a young man screaming over his wife's body, a woman howling and rocking a lifeless little corpse, and a lost toddler crying for her mother just as he was a few minutes ago. Dmitri wants to help that tiny little girl, but he doesn't even know where his own father is. He doesn't even know if he is still alive or whether he has been sled away from the square on one of those ambulances.

More and more tears well up in Dmitri's eyes until he is weeping inconsolably. It is not fair, the child thinks as he wipes his cheeks over and over again, I wasn't even stealing or doing anything wrong this time.

He doesn't want a train anymore, all he wants is to go home.

"Papa…" Dmitri whimpers, wishing some grown up around him would help him find his dad, would help him at all, but for the first time in his life, he is aware that this may not be the case. His whimpers turn into sobs. "Papa!" He cries. "Papa!"

If my father is still around, Dmitri thinks, he should be looking for me right now, he has to.

Dmitri keeps walking, searching, crying. Leaving the square of the palace, he steps on something that doesn't feel like snow. Curious, he looks down to see a blood stained and bullet riddled icon of Nicholas II.

Trigger Warnings: police brutality, shooting, violence, deaths (extras), child deaths, and blood.

Oo

-Guys, I noticed long before I wrote this, but way after I came up with the idea, that there is another author who wrote about Dmitris father being present during Bloody Sunday. I swear I didn't rip it off from that person lol, just to be clear. Bloody Sunday is a fairly popular and known historical event and the timeline fits, so it makes a lot of sense for two people to get the same "headcanon" independently from each other.

-Many dialogues and other parts of this chapter were inspired by Christina Croft's "Most Beautiful Princess", an excellent book about the life of Grand Duchess Elizabeth Feodorovna. Some others were inspired by a thread on the Alexander Palate Time Machine discussion forum.

-The one scene with Tatiana was directly inspired by another book called "The Princess of Cannon Beach" by Kathryn James.

-As to the information on the war and such, it was mostly taken from "Nicholas and Alexandra" by Robert K. Massie.

-Of course I was inspired yet again by even more cute family videos on YouTube.