A week later
Nicholas returned to his office with heaviness in his steps. Meetings with his ministers always left him drained, especially now, when his recently appointed prime minister was pushing for reforms that did not sit well with him.
Although the prime minister was capable of suppressing peasant uprisings and highly effective in stabilizing the empire. His reforms were much less to be desired.
Just thinking about the meeting that had adjourned moments ago was enough to give him a headache. Different factions within his government had vehemently opposed the prime minister's plans, while the man himself remained stubbornly fixated on seeing his reforms succeed.
In the end, Nicholas had been forced to intervene personally, if only to prevent his ministers and advisers from tearing into one another.
He loosened his collar and sat down on the chair behind his desk when he noticed his aide, Boris, stood near the door, hands in front of him fidgeting while shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He had been with his aide from childhood till now so he knew what those small movements meant.
"Out with it." Nicholas said calmly, setting his gloves aside. "You clearly have something to say. What is it this time?"
Boris stiffened for a moment, then bowed his head slightly, "It has nothing to do with what was discussed in the meeting, Your majesty. It has something to do with the tsarevich."
Nicholas's eyes narrowed. "What about my son?"
Boris chose his words carefully. "I've heard that some of the grand dukes and your cousins, led by your uncle, Grand Duke Vladimir, were displeased after learning that the tsarevich is set to study under various ministries, and the Okhrana at such a young age. The grand duke himself even approached the Dowager Empress, hoping to persuade you to reconsider."
Silence settled over the room once Boris finished.
Nicholas's expression darkened, his fingers tightening against the edge of the desk. "So they think they have the right to decide what my son may or may not learn," he said coolly.
Boris said nothing. Afraid to escalate the rising anger he knew his Tsar was feeling at the moment.
"Leave them be," Nicholas said at last, his voice firm. "I will not have my uncles or cousins deciding Alexei's future for him. If I let them decide what happens to my family. I might as well abdicate and hand the empire to them on a silver platter.
He inhaled and exhaled sharply, trying to reign in his anger. "I'll have a talk with them. Is that all?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," Boris replied quietly.
Nicholas waved a hand dismissively. "You may leave. I want to be alone."
Boris released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and bowed deeply. "As you wish, Your Majesty."
When the door closed, Nicholas rubbed his forehead and leaned back in his chair. His gaze drifted to the ornate patterns carved into the ceiling as his thoughts wandered. His uncles and cousins, bound to him by blood, yet increasingly eager to add to his burdens, pressed heavily on his mind. They had been nowhere to be found when the empire teetered on the brink of collapse only a couple of months ago. Yet now, as order was slowly being restored, they were showing their claws once more. Not at him, infuriatingly, but at his son.
They surely thought me weak, and not like my father. He muttered under his breath.
The mere presence of Alexander III had been enough to cow those around him, including family members. The grand dukes avoided him instinctively, their ambitions curbed the moment he entered a room. Those who dared oppose him learned swiftly what it meant to incur his wrath. His father had drawn an unmistakable line where family was concerned.
Where he did not or could not? Nicholas exhaled slowly.
The iron restraint that had once kept them obedient had died alongside his father. Nicholas knew that he could not be what his father was. The hulking figure who always carried with him the air of authority.
He remembered when his father held up the collapsed roof of the dining car when their train derailed, saving him and his siblings. He could still recall the image of his father at that time, standing above all of them, shouting at the top of his lungs to evacuate immediately as held the collapsed roof. From that day on, he had wanted nothing more than to become the kind of man his father was, decisive, feared, respected and strong. A ruler whose presence alone could steady the people around him.
But as the years passed, he came to realize how far he fell from that ideal.
He did not command rooms with a glance. He did not silence opposition with his voice alone. Where his father had inspired obedience through sheer force of will, Nicholas relied on compromise, persuasion, and patience. Where Alexander had been a mountain, Nicholas felt like a man constantly shoring up cracks in fragile walls.
Nicholas had hoped that his family could cover up those cracks. Helping him govern the empire where he lacked the most. But he soon realized that was just a delusion. Ambition, entitlement, and self-interest guided them far more than loyalty or duty.
He could only think of one reason that motivated his uncle, Grand Duke Vladimir, to target his son.
Last year, he had banished the grand duke's eldest son, Kirill, from the empire, stripping him of his imperial allowance, titles, honors, and decorations. Kirill had contracted a marriage with his own first cousin, Princess Victoria Melita, without Nicholas's permission and was in violation of the Russian Orthodox ban on marriages between first cousins, an act strictly forbidden under imperial law, and he had reacted with decisive severity after the advice of his mother and council.
His uncle, Vladimir had protested furiously, resigning in his posts and howling in outrage, but Nicholas for the first time had stood his ground against his uncle. The exile was enforced not just to punish disobedience, but to preserve the order he had deemed necessary for stability within his own family and the broader empire.
He had hoped that his decisive actions would earn him a measure of respect from his family, but it seemed that hope was misplaced. He would have to speak with his uncle soon, and he wondered whether he could still hold his ground against the inevitable tirade. The irony of it all was almost laughable, an emperor who could still be scolded by his own uncle. Nicholas made a mental note to visit his mother and consult his advisers, to seek their counsel and to consider whether banishing his uncle from the empire could be done without provoking serious repercussions.
With a heavy sigh, Nicholas shifted his gaze back to his desk, where a folder titled Agrarian Reform lay waiting. He was reminded that another problem still demanded his attention.
Straightening in his chair, he reached for the folder and began scrutinizing the reforms his prime minister had so casually added to his problems.
—---
November 3, 1906
Alexei walked the halls of the Winter Palace as he made his way toward the palace gardens. He wore his standard uniform, prim and proper, the dark fabric pressed to perfection and trimmed with subtle silver threading that caught the light of the chandeliers overhead.
At his side hung a ceremonial sword, its scabbard adorned with understated engravings, the hilt bearing his house's coat of arms and resting comfortably against his palm as he walked. Though ceremonial in name, the blade itself was well-balanced and keen, a symbol of both readiness for battle and steadfast defense.
Slightly behind him padded two wolves, their movements silent and fluid, as though they belonged to the palace as much as its stone walls. The black wolf, Trezor, moved with a calm, watchful presence, his dark fur absorbing the light as sharp eyes surveyed every corner. He kept to Alexei's left, his name. meaning safety, fitting him perfectly. On Alexei's right strode Katya, her white fur pristine and luminous, a striking contrast to the dimmer corridors. There was something serene in her gaze, something untainted, yet beneath that calm lay something primal, a force she could unleash the moment her master commanded it. Though not yet fully grown, both wolves were already large for their age, much like their master himself.
A few steps behind the wolves followed Nagorny and Sednev, their posture alert yet controlled as they walked. They maintained their distance, occasionally casting wary glances toward the animals. Even with constant exposure to the wolves, they could not help but remain cautious, a single bite to a vital area could mean severe injury, or even death. They had witnessed how the tsarevich trained the wolves alongside the imperial huntsmen and understood just how dangerous they could be. For all of the tsarevich's strange brilliance and flair, this was by far the most unsettling of his talents.
Though imperial huntsmen had aided in their training, the wolves always looked to the tsarevich for instruction, as if they had been taught long before any formal training ever began. The short time in which the wolves learned basic commands and gestures only deepened their bafflement, so much so that even the imperial huntsmen were bewildered. When asked about it, the tsarevich merely remarked, almost casually, that he must have been fortunate enough to find genius wolves. The imperial huntsmen accepted this explanation without hesitation, for they too believed the wolves to be unusually intelligent.
Nagorny and Sednev, however, sensed that something about it all was amiss. Nevertheless, they were trained to remain silent, and silent they would be.
Just a few nights earlier, the tsarevich had asked them a simple yet unsettling question, to whom did their loyalty truly belong to? They had answered without hesitation, that they were loyal to the tsar, and that as the tsarevich, such loyalty naturally extended to him. The tsarevich, however, had not seemed pleased with their response, dismissing them immediately after they spoke. Even now, they could not understand what they had said wrong, for they believed their answer to be honest and proper.
Still, despite that moment, the tsarevich continued to treat them as he always had. For that, at least, they relaxed.
Alexei saw his family at once as he exited the palace. His mother and father sat beneath the shade of tall trees, Nicholas relaxed yet observant beside Alexandra, while his grandmother and aunts occupied nearby chairs, their dresses arranged carefully against the grass. As usual, his uncle was nowhere to be found. His sisters were present as well, playing a short distance away, their laughter carrying softly through the garden.
He made his way toward them together with his dogs ahem wolves.
"Father. Mother." Alexei stopped at a respectful distance and bowed his head.
"Grandmother. Grand Duchesses."
He straightened and briefly turned toward his sisters, offering them a small smile and a nod. They returned it with eager curiosity, their attention already fixed on the animals at his side.
For a brief moment, all eyes were on him, then, almost in unison, their gazes shifted to the wolves.
"You're finally here, son. I thought you had given up already and secretly set your wolves free somewhere," Nicholas said at last, a playful smile tugging at his lips.
Alexei shrugged. "You wish, Father." He gestured toward the wolves sitting calmly beside him. "See? They're very well behaved."
Olga and Tatiana were about to run toward their brother, but their mother stopped them.
"Olga. Tatiana. Don't," Alexandra called out.
Their handmaids intervened in time, gently guiding the girls toward Alexandra and Nicholas.
"Get on with it now, Alexei, so you can send them away," Alexandra added, pulling Olga and Tatiana close while casting wary glances at the wolves.
Alexei smiled apologetically at his sisters, then looked to his father, who gave him a small nod.
The grand duchesses watched the scene unfold with clear intrigue, while his grandmother offered him a gentle, encouraging smile.
"Alright."
Alexei stepped farther away to give them a better view. He took two disk-shaped objects from Sednev, met the wolves' gazes briefly, then hurled the disks in quick succession toward an open stretch of lawn. Instantly, the wolves sprang forward, bolting from their positions and following the disks' trajectories with swift, powerful strides.
The wolves reached the fallen disks almost at the same time. With sharp, practiced movements, each clamped the object gently between their jaws before pivoting in perfect unison. Grass bent beneath their paws as they sprinted back.
Trezor returned first, stopping precisely before Alexei and lowering his head to place the disk neatly at his feet. A heartbeat later, Katya followed, mirroring her brother's action. Both wolves stepped back and sat, tails slightly wagging, their eyes fixed solely on him. He crouched down and gave them a gentle rub.
"Good job." He said with a smile.
A murmur rippled through the gathered family and servants.
"My goodness…" Grand Duchess Xenxia breathed, waving the fan in front of her.
Even Alexandra, still holding her daughters close, could not hide the surprise in her expression.
Nicholas leaned forward slightly in his chair, his earlier amusement giving way to open interest. He called toward the huntsman standing on standby nearby. When the man approached, Nicholas asked, "If wolves are capable of this, why have they never been trained before?"
The huntsman wiped the sweat from his brow before replying. "This is an exception, Your Majesty. Wolves are usually extremely difficult to train. Even after long periods, they may still bite, and their behavior is unpredictable. I cannot explain these two, but they are… unusually well behaved and intelligent."
"Hm…" Nicholas murmured, thoughtful, before waving the huntsman away.
Alexei continued. With a subtle gesture, the wolves rose at once and began to walk, pacing in a straight line across the lawn. When he clapped, they stopped instantly, turned, and walked back toward him along the same path. He demonstrated several more commands, each one met with flawless obedience. By the time he finished, his sisters were clapping enthusiastically.
"Brother, that was amazing!" Olga called out. "Do it again!"
Alexei shook his head with a soft laugh and smiled at them as he walked back toward his family, the wolves following close behind.
"Well?" he asked, sitting beside his father and taking a sip of water Sednev handed him. "What do you think, Father?"
"You put on quite a show, my son," Nicholas replied, pride evident in his voice.
"You must still be careful with them, Alexei," Alexandra added firmly. "And do not let your sisters touch them. Is that understood?"
Olga looked as though she might protest, but one glance at her mother's expression made her fall silent. She turned to her brother instead and pouted.
Alexei returned her look with an apologetic smile before nodding to his mother. "Understood. Does that mean I can keep them?"
"For now," Nicholas said seriously. "But if they bite anyone, they will be sent away immediately. The huntsman warned me that wolves are unpredictable. I will have Sednev and Nagorny report to me if they misbehave."
Alexei smiled faintly at that. As if. "All right."
They spoke for a while longer before Alexei rose from his seat and went to play with his sisters.
"Do you think Alexei will grow as tall as father?" Grand Duchess Xenia chimed in suddenly as they watched the children. "It won't be long before he reaches your height, brother."
Grand Duchess Olga, seated beside her, nodded in agreement.
"Are you calling me short, sister?" Nicholas asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, please," Xenia replied with a playful smile. "Do you truly think you're that tall?"
Nicholas shook his head and returned his gaze to the children. "At this rate, he may even surpass his grandfather's height."
"Hm," Xenia murmured, nodding thoughtfully.
They fell silent for a moment before their mother, the Dowager Empress, spoke.
"Have you two given any thought to whom Alexei might marry in the future?"
Both Nicholas and Alexandra were caught off guard. They had not thought or talked about it, perhaps intentionally avoiding the subject altogether.
Nicholas did not answer. Instead, he glanced at his wife, silently prompting her to respond. Alexandra sighed before speaking.
"We haven't considered it yet, Mother. We both believe it's still far too early."
"There is no harm in beginning to consider such matters," the Dowager Empress replied calmly. "I will have someone begin compiling a list of suitable candidates. You both should be aware that your uncles and cousins are growing unruly. They disregard your authority and have the audacity to interfere in your personal affairs, including your son. It is best to be prepared."
The atmosphere grew tense at her words.
Nicholas and Alexandra fell silent, but it was Nicholas whose expression darkened the most, a deep frown settling on his face. The talks with his uncle Vladimir had not gone as well as he had hoped. Instead, it was Nicholas who found himself at a disadvantage for most of the exchange. His uncle had rallied much of the family to his side, uniting them in opposition and pressing Nicholas to reverse a decision he had already made, to end the exile of Vladimir's son, Kirill.
He had sought his mother's and council's advice on the matter and ultimately reached a decision, he would at least restore his cousin Kirill's title as Grand Duke, while maintaining the exile, for the time being. He could not simply revoke an order he had already issued so soon after giving it, yet he had little choice but to compromise. Many of his uncles and cousins, holding influential positions within his ministries and the military, had sided with his uncle, and he could not afford open conflict within the family, especially now, when the empire had only just survived a revolution and were still recovering from it.
The thought of compromising, of softening an order he had already given, rubbed painfully against his pride. Even if the concession was not blatant or glaring, he could see the ridicule and mockery lurking behind the smiles and polite expressions of those who knew what had transpired. He was certain the whispers were already spreading, that he was incompetent and incapable of managing even his own family as its head.
He offered a rueful smile to his mother and sisters before turning his attention back to the children. At least here, surrounded by his immediate family, he could still find a measure of peace.
His mother, the Dowager Empress, failed to notice the subtle change in her son's expression, her attention wholly captured by the children at play, particularly her grandson.
"Look at my grandson," she said fondly. "With looks like that, princesses across Europe will be lining up to marry him."
Grand Duchess Xenia, who had noticed her brother's earlier expression, seized the opportunity to steer the conversation away from uncles and cousins. "You're right, Mother. I've noticed his skin is especially smooth, without a single blemish. Oh, how I wish I had skin like that."
"Exactly," the Dowager Empress replied with a pleased smile, lifting her teacup. "I can't wait to see the faces of those princesses when they lay eyes on my Alexei."
Having successfully redirected the conversation, Grand Duchess Xenia indulged her mother's fantasies, and the two spoke lightly for a while. Eventually, however, the Dowager Empress Maria seemed to recall something and turned her attention back to her son.
"It is good for Alexei to visit and observe the various ministries as part of his education, my son," she said. "But are you certain about including the Okhrana? I heard he will begin his visit there in a few days, after finishing at the Ministry of Finance."
Nicholas met her gaze and nodded. "It has already been decided, Mother. I've heard that Alexei has been doing well during his visits and observations. I see no reason to stop now. Alexei also mentioned that he might find inspiration for his writing by reading past reports and recorded plots."
"I see," Maria said slowly. "Still, those reports can be… heavy. Aren't you worried he might write something detrimental to the empire, or to himself?"
Nicholas shook his head. "I've already assigned someone at his publishing house to oversee censorship, should it come to that. Alexandra and I also read his stories before they are published. You needn't worry, Mother."
The Dowager Empress sighed, lifting her teacup to soothe her dry throat, then turned her gaze back to the children playing on the lawn.
—-
Author's note: I'll try to post chapter 17 next week. But if I can't, see you all next year. Happy holidays.