The Flaming Tsar and the Magicborn

New Year, New Reign, New Life...or Maybe Not

Several months passed since the death of Czar Alexander III and the ascension of Czar Nicholas II. The year was now 1895. So far, nothing happened despite his worries that his reign would begin with a terrible disaster. But he knew the peace that was present in Russia would not be there for long.

In spite of everything, Nicholas knew that the time would come when the Snoweagles and the seven wolf clans would attempt to usurp his throne. They were angry that their chosen heir, Alexander Smirnov, was not crowned czar when Alexander III died. Nicholas knew he would have to deal with them soon.

Nicholas frowned as another paper was shoved under his hand, awaiting his signature and seal. He had been at this for three hours now and already the requests were daunting. There were requests for a new factory to be built in one town, an invitation to attend an opening ceremony at a newly-built theater in Saint Petersburg later that month, and another complaint from the Snoweagle coven.

"I swear, I must find something to do with them," he said to his valet as he took the letter from Arameus and set it aside. "They are impatient and will not wait for change to happen themselves."

"Yet you may, sir," said Constantine. "You may."

Nicholas picked up another paper from the stack and read it; it was a request to legitimize the birth of the bastard son of a dead minor Russian noble. "Surely we should have punished him for fathering a child with a disabled woman," said Constantine. "This is no way for a child like him to live."

"Yet, he is only seven years old," said Nicholas. "We must handle this case with care." He promptly signed his name and added his seal. He would deal with that case later.

Constantine said, "Has Sir Nichollo given you his answer yet regarding the little one?"

"He hasn't," said Nicholas. "In fact, I don't blame him for not speaking to me; his lady is in deep anguish over her daughter's death. Even the truth about her and her sins has failed to diminish that pain. But his nephew must answer for trying to murder that child."

They both stared at the basket that contained the sleeping baby. She had gotten bigger than when she was born, but it wasn't enough for her. She was still tiny and weak. "Hadassah's strength improves," Constantine remarked.

"Yet, she will never be fully healed," said Nicholas. "Whatever sickness she has, she will carry it for the rest of her life. But to be able to live this long without giving in to her sickness, she has shown remarkable courage to the tragic circumstances in her life."

"We can ask no more from her," said Constantine.

Just then, Maria, the czarina's wardrobe keeper, burst into the room. "I'm sorry to interrupt your work..." she began.

"No, you have not," said Nicholas. "In fact, I was just going to see her myself."

"She is pregnant," said Maria. "I noticed this when I was dressing her this morning."

"Indeed," said Nicholas as he stood up and left his office. Constantine followed him, carrying the baby. They went to the sitting room, where Alexandra was sitting in her easy chair. She was still wearing her dressing gown.

She noticed her husband coming into the room and said to him, "Why are you here?"

Nicholas said to her, "I have heard that you're pregnant."

"That's true, and there’s little doubt the people will find out soon," said Alexandra. "We must hope it will be a son."

"Or a daughter," said Nicholas.

"It matters little these days," said Maria. "Son or daughter, the child you carry will diminish the claim that Alexander has on the throne."

"If you ask me, I know he won't be a good ruler, for he's too much like your father," said Constantine. "No ruler should be like the one before him, but he should carve his own path."