The Paleys (1922-1924) - An Alternate Romanov Story

Growing Pains

Gatchina, June 1921

Natalia

If Irina and Feodor wanted to keep their little romance hidden, they were doing a terrible job at it. Feodor wasn't even supposed to be there, anyway. This was Tata's eighteenth birthday party, the guestlist was extremely selective and none of them had been expecting FEODOR, out of all the people in the world, show up.

Natalia hadn't even been certain if they had any sort of relationship. The fact that they had confessed their feelings to each other and shared a kiss almost a year before, was the only tangible evidence she possessed. Sure, there were cryptic mentions by Irina – she said Feodor was visiting the same beach they always went to when they were in Cannes, that he had returned to Ai-Todor in the Spring, but that his father needed him around the estate, so he couldn't be spared – but ultimately, his absence in Petrograd fueled Natalia's scepticism.

Yet, all doubt evaporated the moment Feodor materialized in the grand ballroom of the Gatchina Palace. Natalia had been in mid-conversation with Irina when the colour drained from her sister's face. Turning, Natalia saw Feodor at the doorway, a nervous energy radiating from him. His eyes scanned the room frantically, searching, until they landed on Irina.

Feodor moved forward, trying to maintain a calm and steady pace, but his legs had a mind of their own and they propelled him forward in a hurried manner as his steps echoed in the ballroom. Irina remained rooted in place, like a statue. Natalia found the whole thing amusing and her lips twitch into a small smile as she watched Feodor's eyes shine with adoration for Irina. With a knowing smirk, Natalia gracefully stepped aside, creating a small stage for the long-awaited reunion.

When he finally reached Irina, their gazes locked in a wordless conversation that transcended the noise of the party. They looked like they had a million words to say to one another, but were too overwhelmed at the sight of the other to know where to start. Their gazes were telling a story, made of longing letters, and a summer kiss none of them had forgotten. And then, Feodor's voice broke the spell, filled with raw emotion:

"Irina," he breathed out.

Natalia had to take another look at Feodor. There was something different about him, a change that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Perhaps it was the way he carried himself now in his uniform, standing tall and confident compared to the scruffy boy she had known during their time in Ai-Todor. Or maybe it was his commanding presence in the crowded ballroom that caught her attention. Whatever it was, time had been kind to him.

They stood like that, mesmerized, for a long time, until something shifted in the air and a hint of realization appeared on Irina's face, accompanied by a blush creeping up her cheeks. Even Feodor seemed to snap out of their private bubble, scanning the room nervously. Natalia followed his gaze and realized that all eyes had fallen upon the two of them, mingled with gasps of surprise and whispers of gossip.

It hit them both suddenly - that they were not alone. With a sheepish cough and matching blushes, Feodor and Irina were forced to confront their true feelings under the scrutinizing gaze of the ballroom attendees. The facade they had built around their romance for months crumbled, leaving them exposed in the centre of the ballroom.

Natalia watched from the sidelines, her heart thudding in her chest as their mother appeared beside Irina. There was something almost predatory in the way she took in the scene, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly as if she'd already pieced together what wasn't being said.

"Irina, darling," their mother began, unable to hide her excitement. "Is there something you haven't told me?"

Natalia stiffened, feeling the nervous energy in the air between them. She glanced at Irina, but she found her smile in place—too calm, too composed. Irina was always good at this, Natalia thought, good at pretending that everything was as it should be, even when it wasn't.