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

An Earnest Conversation

Alexei shuffled his feet, looking more awkward than Irina ever remembered him to be. He cleared his throat, the sound barely audible above the rustling of his clothes. "I, um... I heard about Natalia," he stuttered, lowering his voice to a hushed whisper. "Uncle Misha wouldn't allow me to come before, but I just had to see her. I promised myself that if she pulled through, I would visit."

A spark of warmth ignited in Irina's heart despite the dire circumstances. "That is very kind of you, Your Majesty," she replied softly. "Natalia has been weak, but there seems to be some improvement today."

The air was heavy with fears and worries neither dared to voice as they both looked at Natalia's frail body. Irina stood up from the bed and gestured for Alexei to sit in a nearby chair. He sat down but remained restless, his eyes constantly darting around the room without settling on Natalia's motionless form. Irina understood his unease; she looked nothing like her lively and vibrant self. It was a shock to see her like this.

A sudden realization dawned on Irina, causing her to pause. "Forgive me for asking," she started cautiously, "but is it safe for you to be here?" The flu had ravaged Natalia, and Irina didn't want the Tsar to suffer the same fate.

Alexei's shoulders slouched slightly, his youthful face clouded with a hint of darkness. He lowered his gaze to the ground and stayed quiet for a moment, deep creases forming between his brows. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely audible. "I've already had it," he admitted. "Earlier this month. In fact, I'm afraid..." His words trailed off as he struggled to continue, "I'm afraid I may have been the one who gave it to you."

Alexei's confession hung heavily in the air, weighed down by guilt. Irina watched him closely, seeing the worry in his youthful features, and she suddenly understood. He wasn't just visiting Natalia; he was carrying the weight of potentially bringing the illness into their home.

Irina's lips curled into a slight smile as she settled into the chair beside Alexei. The movement made him flinch, but Irina spoke softly and gently to ease his discomfort. "It wasn't something you could control," she reassured him.

Alexei's eyes met hers, silently asking for confirmation. Irina nodded and continued, her voice radiating warmth. "I'm glad you were able to recover on your own. That flu is nasty and no one should have to go through it. Don't feel guilty about what happened; we can't know for sure how it spreads, and it certainly isn't anyone's fault."

With a sympathetic expression, Irina added, "We were all unlucky enough to be in its path. What matters now is that Natalia is getting better, and you're well enough to be here."

"After what I've been through with... my illness, Haemophilia," Alexei mumbled, the word barely audible. "The flu felt... almost easy, in comparison. Maybe it was a different strain, or perhaps I was just lucky this time. Everyone was surprised at how quickly I recovered."

Irina's face lit up with understanding as she realized the constant threat that haemophilia must bring to Alexei's life. She couldn't even imagine how overwhelming it must have been to deal with a common illness on top of his condition.

"That makes sense," Irina said sympathetically. "It must have been a huge relief to bounce back so quickly."

Alexei nodded, but there was still a hint of unease in his eyes. "It's just... strange," he admitted, lowering his voice. "Being in a sick room and not being the one stuck in a bed. I feel a bit lost." He glanced nervously at Natalia before turning back to Irina. "Is there anything I can do to help? I hate feeling useless sitting here."

A small smile curved Irina's lips. "All we can do now is wait for Natalia to wake up," she said. "But you know how she is, always full of stories and chatter. Maybe she'd enjoy listening to ours instead of doing the talking for once."