Tsarina ∣ Ruler!Reader x Russia

𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫

Ivan carried (y/n) inside of the cathedral that she was crowned. People who were praying stopped, watched him walking towards the priest. The priest was shocked, seeing a dead body in the tall man's arms. He came closer and placed the body on the marble platform. He placed (y/n)'s arms on her belly. He turned his head to the priest. 'Keep an eye on her until I return.' he said with a cold voice. The tall man left the building, leaving questions on people's minds.

The priest looked at the corpse, it didn't take him a while to recognise the body. He put his hand on his mouth, tried to hide his confusedness. Who was that guy? How he find this corpse? How, when, why her majesty is dead? He turned his eyes to the crowd. They were as confused as him. He walked in front of the marble platform and tried to continue. He opened his bible but corpse did distract and discomforted him. He was looking back to the corpse to the bible, the bible to the corpse with the corner of his eye until the man returned with sunflowers in his hand. 

He slowly walked through the hallway. People were silent, watching the priest and the man. The man stopped in front of the priest. 'Please, move aside.' he mumbled. The priest took a step to right. The man approached the girl, placed sunflowers on her hand. He leaned and put a kiss on the purple lips of the beautiful yet so cold corpse. He started to caress her (h/c) hair. 'Goodbye, sunflower.' he whispered into her ears, knowing that she won't hear that. Maybe that's the reason for his sorrowful face.  He turned his back and left the cathedral once again, and never returned. 

Ivan arrived at the palace. There were no Baltics or his sisters. He wondered, why (y/n) damned him with loneliness. He entered her old office and walked to the window, started to watch the garden. 'There is a good spot for a grave...' he thought and started to plan her grave and tombstone, how he would plant sunflowers and place some pebbles around it. 

The door was opened. The count entered the room with a boy. He didn't bother to greet them. 'Ivan, this is-' Ivan interrupted him. 'Imposter.' he muttered. 'the successor.' the count continued. 'She had great plans, you know. Education... bringing art to Russian court...' he mumbled and turned his eyes to the boy who came closer to him and waiting for a handshake. 'I won't let you down, mister Russia.' the boy said. Ivan gave him a cold glare. 'Da, you won't.' he said and picked up a diary on the desk and gave it to the boy. 'It once belonged to the empress.' he said. 'Everything you need to do is written there.' he added and didn't blank or discontinued staring at the poor, shaking boy. 

Later that day, Ivan came for (y/n)'s corpse. The nuns dressed her in white, combed her hair and washed her body. Ivan gave them some money and thanked them and returned to the garden. 

He did a good job at guessing her sizes, the grave was perfect for her. He placed her on the soil gently and started to fill it. When it was done, he put a stone on it. This will take some time. 

He spent all his month in the garden, no one dared to ask him what was he doing. The perfect memorial in his mind was complete. A statue of her on the marble platform with Russian patterns, sunflowers around her grave and two long candles placed on the platform, burning bright. He sat in front of it. He had two glasses and one vodka bottle. He put one for her and one for himself, filled it and raised a glass for her. 'Long live empress (y/n)' he mumbled.