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

Every Day

Vladimir

After a few more minutes of heavy questioning about their relationship, Natalia seemed satisfied. She dusted her dress as if some invisible wave of dust had tainted it, told them she needed to do something and started to walk away, leaving Vladimir and Tata alone in the garden.

"You know she's on her way to write every detail of what we've just told her to Alexei, right?" Tata asked with the barest hint of a smile, though her eyebrows were still creased.

"You think so?" Vladimir asked, unable to hide the sarcasm from his tone.

Of course she was going to do that. She would also throw Irina into the mix for good measure once she got a few seconds alone with her, but Vladimir trusted that she wouldn't tell anyone else besides those two.

After his sister left, Vladimir considered if he should feel at least a flicker of hesitation about Natalia discovering his secret relationship with Tata. But he quickly came to the conclusion that he didn't. Not even a little.

Instead, he felt a warm, fuzzy feeling, starting in his chest and radiating to the very tips of his toes — a lightness he hadn't realized he'd been missing. Natalia knew. And, more importantly, she didn't care. She wasn't outraged, scandalized, or disappointed. No, her only grievance had been that they hadn't told her sooner. If anything, she seemed more worried that he might ruin things than Tata.

That realization lingered, and Vladimir's lips curved into a small, thoughtful smile. She had given her blessing in her own uniquely chaotic, Natalia-esque way. And somehow, that mattered more to him than he'd expected.

His family had always been his foundation. Through every storm and upheaval, they'd managed to stay united, presenting an unshakable front to the world. Their house wasn't just a house — it was a home in the truest definition of the word. No amount of status, wealth, or privilege could recreate that kind of harmony, and Vladimir had never taken it for granted. If he were ever fortunate enough to have a family of his own, he knew, without a doubt, that it would have to feel the same.

And on that front, there was no one better than Tata.

She fit. She had fit for years, seamlessly weaving herself into their family's rhythm, understanding its quirks, unspoken rules, and sharp but loving humour. She could match Natalia's wit, outlast Dmitri's antics, and somehow, miraculously, make him feel like less of a stoic bore. No one else had ever managed that.

Once more, he let himself consider it — really consider it. The weight he'd been carrying for the past year, all that cautious restraint and second-guessing, suddenly felt unnecessary. If Natalia could see it, acknowledge it, and start plotting nursery plans with Tata as her sister-in-law, then maybe... maybe it wasn't so impossible.

His eyes flickered to Tata, who was still watching Natalia's retreating form with a bemused shake of her head. The afternoon sun caught in her hair, her face half-lit in gold, and Vladimir's heart skipped for a moment.

"You like that I'm boring," he whispered to Tata when he was sure Natalia was out of earshot.

He said it with a smile meant to be teasing, but he was sure he could not hide how happy her words had made him feel. Tata lifted an eyebrow and tried to hide how giddy the remark made her feel, but it was impossible not to see the red spots forming on her slender and very attractive neck.

"I was just trying to diffuse your sister. Don't let that go to your head."

Still smiling, Vladimir glanced around the garden to ensure they were alone. The distant crunch of gravel underfoot had faded — Natalia had returned to the house. It was just the two of them now, tucked into a quiet, sun-dappled corner of the world. His gaze returned to Tata, and he took a slow, deliberate step toward her, his eyes never leaving hers.