26th November 1894.
Alexandra's Point of View
'Alicky!' someone was calling me. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. Today is my wedding day. I am to wed Nicholas Alexandrovich Romanov, Tsar of Russia. Nicholas suddenly materialized in front of me, in full regalia of the Hussars, his regiment, complete with his medals and the orange sash of the Order of Hesse und Bei Rhein. His face glowed with happiness. He extended an arm towards me. 'Come,' he whispered, 'Mother's waiting outside.' I rose and followed him.
The Dowager Tsarina and Nicholas's brother, Grand Duke Michael were waiting for us in a closed coach. I tried to climb in gracefully, assisted by Nicholas. 'You look magnificent!' he complimented me. I smiled in reply, anxiety returning, as the carriage trundled towards the Winter Palace. A short while later, we were all assembled in an orderly manner, with my mother-in-law taking my hand. Nicholas followed us, a procession of extended family behind him. At a glance, I could make out Ernst, my brother, together with our sister, Irene, and her husband.
As Nicholas entered the Palace and stood at the dais, his mother gracefully extended a hand to help me up. It was a cumbersome task to gracefully glide up stairs in my heavy dress. My eyes scanned the room as I attacked the staircase with grim determination, and focused on the two priests bearing trays containing our rings.
Father John Yanishev, the imperial clergyman was standing next to them, clearly officiating the ceremony. As I walked over to stand next to Nicholas, he bowed his head, and I followed suit. Father John sprinkled holy water on us, announcing our betrothal to the gathering and blessing our union in the eyes of God. The priests handed us our rings and we exchanged them thrice, anticipation building up inside me as we knelt as one and spoke the fateful words.
'I, Nicholas Alexandrovich Romanov, take you, Alexandra Fedorovna, as my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in times of happiness and times of strife, from this day till the day I die. This is my solemn vow.' His clear voice resonated through the hall, as I recited the same in a breathless voice.
Prince George of Greece and Grand Duke Michael held the nuptial crowns for us, as we walked around the lectern, knelt again, said a short prayer to the Virgin Mary. And, quite suddenly, when I rose, I was not Princess Alix any longer, but Tsarina Alexandra of Russia, Queen Consort to Tsar Nicholas II of Russia, and wife to my beloved Nicky.
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