Weeks had passed since that night where Bruno and Heidi ca to terms with the fact that they were getting old beneath the beauty and tranquility of the sleeping sun, and now the man and his family found themselves in Saint Petersburg.
Officially, Bruno had been sent to the capital of the Russian Empire to oversee the current agreent of joint industrial, technological, economic, and military cooperation. A force of German soldiers had been dispatched to help train the Russians with their latest batch of armored vehicles, dostically produced via tooling, technical data packages, and engineers provided by the German Reich.
Sure, the engineers and their stay were temporary—just for a few years—giving the Russians ti to begin mass production within perfect specification before returning to the Reich. But Bruno's visit was far more temporary.
And while his generals, officers, and soldiers aided Russia in understanding the new military reforms Germany was developing in this more peaceful era, along with testing new equipnt and tactics together, Bruno and Nicholas were sitting peacefully within the Winter Palace, discussing matters of family rather than war or diplomacy.
But their discussion was an unimportant matter between two friends. No, the real important scene was taking place within the estate grounds—the gardens, to be precise—which were completely covered in snow.
Prince Alexei Nikolaevich was a boy who had been described in Bruno's past life as shy, good-natured, intelligent, and even playfully mischievous. He had been stricken with hemophilia since birth, and quite a severe case at that.
He suffered silently, never once letting his condition cloud his thoughts or judgnt, let alone allowing it to compel him to cruelty—when so many others in his privileged and prestigious position would casually find themselves engaging in such degenerate and destructive behavior.
The boy was now nearing the age he was when he was brutally and rcilessly executed by the Red Army along with his entire family—without provocation or justification. That being 14 years old at this point.
The massacre of the Romanovs was one of the most tragic and unjust regicides in history. For all of Nicholas's failures as a leader, many of which were no fault of his own, he had never been a cruel monarch.
Sure, when crowned he was most certainly unfit for the job due to his complicated upbringing, but by all accounts he had been a good man trying to do his best to stabilize an impossible position that he inherited suddenly and forcefully from the death of his father—who had done nothing but abuse and neglect him in ways that made him fundantally incapable of ruling.
Yet that cycle of abuse and neglect did not follow him into his own family. He was a good father, who doted on his children and loved his wife. In turn, his daughters doted on their younger brother Alexei. The young Tsarevich was the golden apple of the family's gilded eyes.
It was perhaps because of his frail condition and the admiration his family had for him that Alexei was never alone. He was surrounded by guards, nurses, and of course his four older sisters, who understood exactly who Elsa was, who her father was, and treated her with cautionary respect because of it.
Elsa was the exact opposite of Eva. They were separated by a re two years, and yet they were quite distinctive in personality, even if they inherited the sa beauty of their parents. Eva was brilliant, gregarious, and endearingly playful. She had a personality that dragged people toward her and her interests naturally, like the gravitational pull of a bright and shining star in the sky above.
Elsa was as cold as the winter, and completely unmoved by even the greatest spectacles before her—at least while in public.
Contrary to what most thought, this was not because she was smug, arrogant, conceited, or just held general disdain for others. No, she was a deeply timid and shy girl, but understood instinctively who her family was, the respect they commanded, and the powerful enemies they had made, ever lurking in the background.
Her frost-like façade was rely a self-protection chanism against those she did not know and wanted to flee from. Among those she was close with, she was quite different.
Sure, she was still silent and shy for the most part, but at ho—especially when her father was around—she could be found smiling more frequently than she was known to, and was quite playful with her elder siblings, while also being exceptionally caring to her younger siblings who were at least half a decade younger than her.
It was because of this that the two shy and timid characters, who were supposed to get married when they both ca of proper age, were quite the interesting grouping to watch as they were surrounded by other, more extroverted characters who carried the conversation for them.
Alexei, being of that age, couldn't stop glancing at the young woman roughly his sa age standing next to him. She was dressed in a white gown and a matching fur cloak—one designed for the horrific winter weather of Russia—but it exemplified her appearance as a living ice fairy, sothing the boy could not take his eyes off of.
Elsa was the fairest in her family by far—the whitest skin, the blondest hair, and the lightest shade of blue eyes. She was quite literally like an otherworldly being now that she was maturing into a woman, and the Russian heir could not stop looking at her. Sothing that only made the girl more nervous and intimidated, causing her to double down on her frozen façade.
Bruno and Nicholas were subtly watching the disaster that was this "play date," as the Tsar shook his head while pouring him and his old friend so vodka.
"You know, Bruno, at this rate we might have to personally intervene to get those two kids to talk…"
Bruno sighed as he shook his head, revealing the true depths of his daughter's thoughts to the man whose son he was trying to marry the girl off to.
"I know what you're thinking—my daughter is an unfeeling ice princess. It might look like that, but she's a timid little thing. Like a rabbit, her first instinct is to flee when she's uncomfortable or distressed. But she knows she can't do that, so she projects an aura that turns people away. Unfortunately… I think it might have only aided in further captivating your young son… and now… now she doesn't know what to do and is only becoming more nervous…
You know what, Nicholas? I say we have another drink and see where this goes. If it gets bad enough, then we can intervene—but for now, we watch and wait…"
Nicholas scoffed, having just poured the drink while Bruno was talking. He was about to tell his guest that his glass was already full when he glanced over and saw it was empty. It did not take him long to connect the dots, and he quickly poured another cup for Bruno, while also drinking his own to catch up.
"Right… another drink it is, then."
The two old n would watch for a while longer to see if the Goddess of Winter would truly awaken—or if they would have to force it.
The doting fathers, while naturally aware of their children's proclivities, could not possibly guess what was going on inside their heads.
Especially Elsa, who was quietly panicking inside her own mind, unable to fathom how she should react to the impossible circumstances she now found herself in.
"Why is it always so damn difficult to smile when I'm being watched by other people!? Eva, you bitch—how do you do it so effortlessly!?!"
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