The Paleys (1915-1921) - An Alternate Romanov Story

Fait Accompli

The day after their visit to the Alexander Palace, Grand Duke Paul received a long-awaited telegram from his cousin Grand Duke Alexander. It informed him that the Tsar was expected to arrive in Petrograd later that afternoon and as many Grand Dukes as possible were needed at the Winter Palace. As it was still difficult to enter the city and Paul was, technically, under house arrest, Grand Duke Alexander had arranged for a group of officers to escort him and Grand Duke Boris to their destination.

As they prepared to depart, Vladimir's father once again asked for his son to accompany them. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on both of them as they waited for their transport. Finally, around ten o'clock, the distinct rumble of an approaching car could be heard, flanked by two large trucks carrying armed soldiers.

Vladimir's expression shifted to surprise as he approached the vehicle. Prince Andrei sat next to Grand Duke Boris, his face showing signs of exhaustion and fatigue. His usually impeccable uniform was dishevelled, and it seemed like he hadn't slept in days. However, despite his tired appearance, his eyes held a determined glint.

"The majority of the army and navy are on our side," Andrei announced as the car jolted forward, revealing the cityscape before them. Soldiers lined the streets, their faces inscrutable under the winter sun.

His voice, low and urgent, continued, "The Duma sees Uncle Misha as a potential step towards a more liberal future compared to Uncle Nicky. They've pledged their support in the majority. There are, of course, dissenting voices – radicals who advocate for a complete dismantling of the monarchy, aligning themselves with the Soviets. Thankfully, their influence seems to be waning with each passing day."

Although Andrei delivered the news with a veneer of optimism, his voice lacked any real triumph. Fatigue etched lines across his face, and a nervous tremor ran through his hands. Despite the apparent righteousness of their cause, a shadow of doubt clouded his eyes. After all, he was the Tsar's eldest nephew, and Vladimir knew they shared a close bond. They were trying to save the nation, themselves, as well as the Tsar, but, in the process, they were creating a family rift so deep that none of them truly believed it could ever be mended. A heavy silence settled over the car, a shared sentiment hanging in the air – this wouldn't be a victory for anyone.

Vladimir's father broke the stifling silence, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "And what has the Duma asked for in return for their generous help?"

The question hung heavy in the air, visibly unnerving Andrei. He fiddled with his tie, the once pristine fabric now matching his dishevelled appearance, before finally responding. "Initially," he began, barely above a whisper, "they demand a national referendum within six months to determine the fate of the monarchy."

"A reasonable request," Grand Duke Paul admitted, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. "What else?"

The engine's rhythmic rumble and the occasional cough from a car ahead were the only sounds that broke the agonizing pause.

"They...they want Alexei to stay in Russia for his education," Andrei stammered, "and be tutored by people chosen by the new government. They propose Grand Duke Michael as regent for four years until Alexei comes of age. As for the girls, they don't really care if they stay or go, but they are adamant about Uncle Nicky and Aunt Alix leaving."

Vladimir watched his father close his eyes, the thin skin around them creasing even more. He understood, perhaps better than anyone in the car, the immense pain that would come with such a separation. When he had married his mother, political pressures had forced him to leave his two oldest children behind in Russia while he went into exile in France.

"Alix and Nicky are going to be heartbroken," he said finally, his voice filled with a heavy sadness. "I can't imagine how any of them will agree to these terms."

"It will undoubtedly cause them tremendous pain. Alexei is everything to Aunt Alix; her world revolves around him. This will break her, without a doubt. But considering the mounting pressure within the Duma to put them on trial, exile may be the kindest option." His expression was grave as a harsh reality settled in: "History offers little comfort to rulers who face such public scrutiny."

Grand Duke Paul winced, acknowledging the truth in Andrei's words. "It seems they plan to reduce Alexei to a mere figurehead, a puppet king controlled by their whims," he added somberly after a moment of contemplation.

"That is our understanding as well," Andrei confirmed. "Alexei's education is of the utmost importance to us, and we will ensure it fosters both intellect and integrity. He will be under our protection and considered one of our own."

Grand Duke Paul's expression was firm as he added, "Of course, that goes without saying. He is a part of our family now."

The rest of their journey was accompanied by a heavy silence. The path to the capital was filled with soldiers who respectfully made way for their car. Some even saluted upon recognizing the Grand Dukes amongst them, displaying a mix of loyalty and apprehension.

The Winter Palace, though heavily guarded, exuded an unnerving calm. Inside the grand Saint George's Hall, officers and deputies from the Duma mingled, the latter having granted the courtesy of travelling to the Tsar's domain rather than summoning him to the Tauriade Palace, where the Duma held its sessions. Though the Tsar was yet to arrive, and the abdication was still unconfirmed, a sense of finality hung heavy in the air.

It was then that Vladimir fully grasped the concept of "fait accompli" – a done deal. No one here, not the soldiers lining the streets, not the individuals gathered in this room, would accept anything less. If the Tsar refused to abdicate, bloodshed was inevitable, and Vladimir doubted that burden would weigh easily on the Emperor's conscience.

Their stay in the Hall was brief. They were swiftly ushered into an antechamber, a smaller room housing the key figures of this staged coup. Grand Dukes Michael Alexandrovich and Alexander stood engrossed in documents near a table. Nearby, the imposing figure of Grand Duke Nicholas Nikolaevich, the former Commander-in-Chief of the Army, sat with his brother, Peter, having travelled all the way from the Caucasus to be present. Grand Duke Boris quickly joined his brothers, Kyrill and Andrei. From the Mikhailovich side of the family, Grand Dukes Nicholas and George stood steadfastly by their brother. Vladimir and Andrei joined Feodor, whose tall frame seemed oddly dwarfed by the room's powerful personalities.

Representing the new government, Vladimir recognized the President of the Duma, Rodyanko, and Prince Lvov, the individual both sides envisioned as Prime Minister. The presence of Generals and Admirals served as a reminder of the military's support for the movement. Count Freedericksz, the only courtier present, seemed out of place among the more commanding figures, evident in his uneasy demeanour.

Vladimir glanced at the clock above the fireplace. Almost noon. The Tsar's arrival was imminent, within the next few hours. More than ever, it felt like they were witnessing the final breaths of a dying regime. The anticipation hung heavy in the air, thick with the potential for both resolution and chaos.