The Paleys (1921-1927) - An Alternate Romanov Story

Unwanted

Vladimir had never felt this anxious at any wedding celebration before, a fact that troubled him as he moved through the grand hall, holding a glass of wine that seemed to empty faster than he could keep track of. He knew he was drinking too much, but it seemed like the only thing that was able to calm his nerves as the guests kept pouring in and he waited for the fateful moment in which Tata would descend the stairs along with the rest of her family.

While he waited, he glanced at his sister, Irina, standing near the room's far end. She had handled the flood of introductions and polite but scrutinizing gazes with remarkable grace, even after the awkwardness of her earlier interaction with the Yussupovs. Watching her now, with her poise and elegance, filled Vladimir with pride. She was carrying herself like a true princess, navigating the stifling atmosphere of royalty with a strength he both admired and envied.

Nearby, Natalia was chatting happily with Irina Alexandrovna, after the two of them had found common ground in their shared love of fashion. It was good to see her so at ease, although it was hardly surprising that her radiant smile lighted up the entire room and drew people to her. There were too few moments like this lately, moments when they all could be in the same room, now that all siblings were more or less scattered around Europe, and Vladimir held onto the sight of it, wishing he could somehow share in their calmness.

But his mind was elsewhere, flickering back to the anticipated arrival of Grand Duke Michael. Any moment now, they would walk into the room. Natalia had travelled with Tata from Paris, but while his sister had continued her journey to Tsarskoe Selo to meet with the rest of the family, Tata had remained in Petrograd at the Winter Palace. It had been months since he'd seen her, and the thought of facing her now, in the middle of this crowd, made his chest tighten.

Despite his conversation with Dmitri, he still wasn't sure what he would do when Tata finally arrived. The kiss they had almost shared had left him more conflicted and confused than ever, and the weight of that memory had followed him ever since. He was no closer to resolving his feelings, no clearer on what to say to her—or if he even should say anything. His grip tightened around the glass as he tried to push the thought away.

Suddenly, the sound of an announcement broke through his thoughts.

"Crown Prince Carol and Crown Princess Olga of Romania!"

Vladimir's stomach dropped instantly. The air seemed to thin as the couple entered the room, and for a moment, everything faded away. He hadn't expected this. For two years, he'd managed to avoid seeing them together. Hearing her name was painful enough, but seeing her now, walking into the room arm-in-arm with her husband was a different kind of torment altogether.

He gripped the glass tighter, his knuckles white against the stem. He could feel bitterness rising in his throat, sharp and raw as if no time had passed since the day she'd chosen Carol. Why him? The question flooded his mind again, even though he had spent countless sleepless nights trying to find an answer that made sense and trying to move on. Now, it all seemed like a waste of time because it only took a glance at them for every old wound to open again, and for the pain to return in full force.

His eyes found Olga almost immediately. She hadn't changed much—still beautiful, her posture as regal as ever—but there was something different about her. She seemed more mature now, more sure of herself, with a quiet confidence that hadn't been there before. Yet, despite that change, the sadness in her eyes—the same sadness that had first drawn him to her years before—was still there, more evident than ever. It was a deep, aching sorrow, one that seemed to have only grown with time, and seeing it again made his heart twist painfully.

And then, just as he was about to look away, he saw it—Olga was searching the room. Her gaze swept over the crowd, pausing here and there as if she was looking for someone. His heart tightened, unwilling to believe she might be looking for him.