August 1900
Tsarina Alexandra was brushing her hair in front of her vanity table, dressed only in her nightgown. Deep in thought, she didn't notice when someone entered the room. It wasn't until she caught an image in the mirror that she realized she wasn't alone. Startled, she jumped up with a yelp and turned to see who it was. To her relief, it was just her husband. She placed a hand on her chest and glared at him. "What were you doing sneaking up on me, husband?"
"You're mistaken, my love. I wasn't sneaking up on you. You looked so deep in thought that you didn't even notice me opening the door," Tsar Nicholas II said with a smile. He gently led his wife back to her chair as he began preparing for sleep.
The tsarina brushed her hair until she was satisfied, then lay down next to her husband. She remained silent and simply rested beside him.
After a while, the Tsar couldn't take the silence anymore, he asked, "So, what were you thinking about?" He turned to face his wife in bed, clearly wanting to chat with her.
"I'm just worried about Alexei," murmured Alexandra. "He's just… I don't know. So quiet? He didn't even play that much when he was younger. I overheard the maids gossiping about our son, saying he was sitting with each foot placed on opposite thighs, his back perfectly straight, and hands resting calmly on his knees. Do you think he's doing that because he's in pain or something? It's not normal for a boy his age to sit like that, is it? I'm afraid there's something wrong with him. You know Alexei; he doesn't talk unless someone asks him a direct question. Even then, he keeps it brief. It's like he's retreating into himself. I'm also concerned that this will spark gossip around the court about our son."
Tsarina Alexandra couldn't shake the persistent knot of anxiety tightening in her chest whenever her thoughts drifted to her only son. Alexei is five years old now, yet he remains a quiet boy. He rarely speaks unless prompted, and even in the presence of other children playing, he tends to keep to himself. Ever since his birth, she proudly shared stories with other noble ladies and friends about how well-behaved he was, only crying when he was hungry or needed to be changed. Now, she finds herself wishing her son would behave more like other children, being noisy and a bit unruly.
When she gave birth to her eldest daughter, Olga, she experienced for the first time how challenging it is to take care of a baby. At first, she felt confused by how different the experience was. She initially thought it was simply because she had a baby girl this time. However, after discussing with her friends and noble ladies at court, she learned that they all found parenting to be hard and exhausting, especially if they didn't have wet nurses. They assured her that there was no difference between boys and girls, both would crawl, walk everywhere, and pick up anything they could hold.
In contrast, her son behaved differently. He would sit quietly when an adult was around, choosing to hold his books instead of playing with the toys scattered nearby.
When she gave birth for the third time, her suspicion that her son was very different was confirmed. Her third child was unruly and would often cry for things she couldn't have, unlike her son, Alexei. Though she loved him dearly, she couldn't shake the thought that there might be some health issue affecting him. She recalled their travels to Scotland, France, and Darmstadt, during which she had asked doctors to examine Alexei. All three doctors confirmed that he was in good health. Even her grandmother, Queen Victoria, scolded her for being overly paranoid. Her grandmother appreciated Alexei for being quiet and well-behaved during their visits. As a mother, she could only hope and pray that her son was truly healthy and that there was nothing wrong with him.
—--
"Hello? Alexandra?" Nicholas II gently nudged his wife when he noticed that she was zoning out after expressing her worries. He often had to comfort her each time she fretted needlessly, despite the doctors confirming numerous times that their son was healthy. She still struggled to let go of her anxiety, especially since her son behaved differently from other children.
"Ah?" His wife was jolted from her thoughts, clearly embarrassed for spacing out right after her rant. He sighed and comforted her. "Don't worry about our son anymore. He's okay. In fact, I was just with him a while ago, and he answered every question I asked perfectly. I think our son is a genius, he loves books and tends to isolate himself. I've heard that's what geniuses do. I just hope he stops isolating himself, as he will need friends when the time comes. Anyway, try not to show this side of yourself to our son, as it might hurt his feelings."
His wife initially struggled with her feelings but eventually nodded. He sighed at this and was about to sleep when his wife asked, "What about the rumors? The maids are already talking about it."
"Don't worry, I'll take care of it. Let's just say our son is using my secret method to become more handsome. Don't you think he looks handsome like me? I'm a bit concerned that he might surpass me in the future. He's also taller for his age. Tsk tsk." His wife smirked at that, and he returned the smirk. "Anyway, are you feeling calm now? Let's get some sleep." His wife eventually nodded. He then shifted to a more comfortable position when he heard his wife's voice again, "I can't sleep. I heard the army is moving into Manchuria."
It seems that sleep will elude him once more. After finding a comfortable position to talk, he began recounting the matter. He never expected that ruling could be so difficult, from the stampede that followed his coronation to the social unrest that ensued. The death of his brother, Grand Duke George Alexandrovich, brought him profound grief and sorrow. Fortunately, his wife has been there for him, and the economy is thriving.
November, 1900
The night was unusually dark in the dirty, narrow slum street in St. Petersburg. The barely visible moon in the sky can't penetrate the tightly made houses with roof extensions. At most, the occasional candlelight coming out from the door and window cracks of the dwellings provided some illumination.
A boy, with a hood and mask, calmly navigated the alleys as he headed for his destination. The boy met people with different kinds of features along the way, the most prominent of them all were skeletal figures, so thin and frail that a mere touch might break them.
After a few turns and cautious glances over his shoulder, he finally arrived at his destination, a small, weathered hut nestled between two slightly larger houses. Its door was barely visible in the dim alley, half-hidden by shadows and age. He knocked in a deliberate, coded rhythm. Moments later, a small peephole slid open with a soft scrape, and a pair of eyes peered out. The sound of multiple locks clicking open followed, and the door creaked inward. The boy slipped inside without a word and quickly shut the door behind him.
Alexei took his hood off but left the mask on, he calmly scanned the room. The girl, who opened the door, walked toward the frail boy in the bed. He looked at the corner and saw the twins who stood up after seeing him. He didn't say anything and just stood there. After a while he uttered "Let's begin."
He took the sack behind him and gestured to the girl to take it. Bread, some apples, and a few leftover foods he took from the kitchen of Winter Palace are within. The twins, Sergey and Ivan began setting up the table with papers, dip pens, fountain pens, and books. Alexei sat beside the table and began checking the papers writing, what he saw was crooked letters barely forming words and another with misspellings, barely readable. He didn't say anything, just picked up a book and handed it to the girl who returned with her youngest brother, Petrov, after storing the food. "Anna, begin reading from chapter three." With that, Alexei began multitasking. Listening to Anna's reading while correcting some pronunciation and teaching the twins with Petrov proper writing.
After 2 hours of reading and writing studies, he began teaching them self defense. He didn't dare teach them extreme skills, these kids are still developing, so he had them practice the basic approach of how to defend themselves if they can't outrun their opponents. 1 hour later, he stopped the training and told them to sleep after wiping the sweat off their bodies. He gestured for Anna to follow him. After walking to a corner, he sat down and gestured for Anna to do the same.
"Any news?" What Alexei needed the most is information, not the general, exaggerated and censored news everyone can read in the newspaper, but the news people will often dismiss in high society. The kind of news the lowest of the lows shared, beggars, pickpockets, drunkards, washerwomen and stable boys. They share not headlines, but fragments when pulled together can unravel far greater.
Anna, who is already adept at gathering this seemingly unimportant information, began her report. "Mother Terisiva next door got injured while…." Alexei just sat there and listened without interrupting her. And when she finished. Alexei stood up and uttered a "Thank you, I'm going." He was about to reach the door when Anna behind him said "Wait. I forgot one last piece of information." He gestured for her to continue "Someone is handing out pamphlets south of the slums a while ago. I tried to get one but they're already out by the time I was there."
He didn't say anything for a few seconds before telling her "Get one next time, and find out who they are without asking the obvious. I believe you're already good at this. You're doing great Anna" He patted her shoulders and walked out. Alexei didn't see the small smile radiating from the face of Anna.
While walking home, Alexei thought about what got into him when he took these four brats under him. It started 3 months ago when he decided to visit the city at night after reaching level 2 body cultivation. With a hood and mask on, he slips the guards and expertly maneuvered the walls of the palace. After that, he's out, walking towards the city center where people can be seen rushing to where they were going. He walked around the city center, noting some notable sites and streets. It took him a while to cover all the areas. When he checked it was still early, he decided to visit the slums. There, he found people toiling the night out for scraps. Whores calling for customers, children looking for pickpocket targets, gangs bullying someone and elderly lying beside the streets waiting to die. The sight didn't shock Alexei, he is used to this. In fact, the view is nothing like the savagery of the cultivation world.
When he moved from alleys to alleys, he arrived at the damp site. Children loitering around, looking for things that they could exchange for coins. They seemed careful enough not to intrude into each other's territory, but a large group of youngsters caught his eyes. Ganging up on four children. When the youngsters were done, they left. The four children helped each other stand up, noticeably brothers and sisters. They patted their clothes and checked each other's wounds and bruises. It seems they were used to it, but one of them is still crying from the beating. The girl, who appears to be the eldest of the group, hugged the boy who was crying. The other two, held up their tears. Alexei watched their interaction from afar as they eventually sat down and touched their stomachs. Obviously starving.
Fascinated by their vulnerability and weakness. Alexei was brought back when he was still innocent in the cultivation world. Due to his defenseless and powerless nature, was easily bullied and humiliated. Weakness has no place in that environment. That's why he easily held onto the man who helped him in his darkest moment. To the point of being used and betrayed by that man without a second thought.
Alexei chuckled ruefully to himself and decided it would be them. He had been thinking of finding his own subordinates outside of the palace, he just didn't expect to work on it so soon. He would've preferred grown men and literate, but they'll do. He just had to teach them letters and basic arithmetic. Their current situation made them easy to manipulate, especially for those who recognized the opportunity and were unburdened by conscience.
He was sure of one thing, though. He would not become the man, whom he hated the most.
Alexei snapped back to reality as he turned into a narrow alley, only to find a group of rough-looking figures loitering in the shadows, eyes sharp, posture tense, the kind that invited trouble without needing a reason. Fortunately, they didn't notice him. Without hesitation, he slipped away. He knew better than to test his luck. As capable as he was for his age, he was still just a child.
When he was out of the slums. He moved directly in the direction of the palace. "It's time to go home." He thought.
After arriving at his room, he cleaned himself thoroughly. While drying himself, Alexei looked at the bruises from the training. He didn't know what kind of disease had been plaguing his body but with just a light bump, bruises would appear on his skin. When he got injured and cut his fingers, two and a half years ago, blood would flow continuously even though he had already applied first aid. Thankfully, he was alone or the maids would freak out and report it to his parents. He didn't like being watched all the time because he needed to cultivate. It would hinder his progress.
He channeled his qi on the bruises, after a few minutes, they were gone. He thought about what would become of him if he can't cultivate in this world. This disease will be the death of him. And he might not reach old age, again. Fortunately, he was sure that by the time he was 10 years old. This disease will completely heal.
While he lay down in his bed. He muses about his circumstances. He was sure that this Alexei was the youngest of the children of the last emperor of Russia. He knew at least that much. But now he is the eldest. His sisters, born after him, still followed their original names from his first life. It brought him mixed feelings, he didn't know how to react to them, but he will still do as expected of him as an elder brother, protect them.
He remembered the way his mother looked at him with concern. She would always ask if he felt discomfort anywhere, as if she had a modern monitor that could alert her whenever his illness might act up. But he never let her find out the truth. He would never reveal his bruises and wounds. He had seen it happen to others, the way the sick were no longer treated as people but as fragile objects to be protected, monitored, and pitied. He couldn't stand it. To her, it would be love and care, but to him, it felt like a cage. He didn't blame her, though, she was his mother. Nonetheless, he wouldn't give her any reason to confine him. He loves his freedom so much that he won't let anyone take it from him, even his family. And what's worse, to have a tsarevich who is sickly spread throughout the empire, that would be a disaster.
His father, well, from what he observed, is a family oriented man. In terms of ruling though? Indecisive, passive and naive. What could he expect from a man who brought his empire down and had his own family killed? Nothing. Nevertheless, he is still his father. Judging him felt almost cruel. Maybe it was never truly his fault, but the consequences were real, he can see it from his nightly experience outside the palace. And now, here he was, trying to piece together how it all happened… and if all of this could ever be made right. He would not focus on saving the empire, though. If it could be saved, good. But if not, he would prioritize himself and his family first.
When he asked himself in the past if he had someone he cares about in this world. Apparently, he has now. The power of family bonds really runs deep whoever or wherever you are. He just hopes it won't ruin him. If he dies young as well in this new life. He would give himself an epithet, "The man age could never claim, but circumstances always could." If he ever lived again, that is.
He fell asleep then after.
—-
The next morning….
The maid moved with deliberate slowness through the silent halls of the palace, her footsteps muffled by thick carpets. Beside her, a small girl walked excitedly, clutching a small size stuffed toy to her chest, her gaze fixed on the door towards the end of the hallway.
At last, they reached their destination and came to a halt before a tall, ornate door. The maid raised a hand and knocked softly, her voice gentle but clear.
"Your Highness, I'm coming in."
She pushed the door open with practiced care, but before she could enter the room, the little girl suddenly bolted past her and slipped inside.
The maid let out a quiet sigh, the corners of her mouth twitching with resignation. Without a word, she followed the child into the room.
The little girl ran into the bed after she saw it, climbed, and then crawled towards the sleeping figure. She looked at the sleeping boy for a moment before lightly tapping the boy's cheek. ""Browther, wakey browther."
Meanwhile, the maid walked to the window and drew back the heavy curtains, allowing a soft glow to filter through the windows.
Alexei, who was pretending to sleep, had no choice but to open his eyes when the light reached his face. He looked at the girl who was about to give him a light slap, smiled and sat up. He reached out and ruffled the girl's hair who was giggling after she saw him woke up.
"What is Olga doing here, Anya?" He said to the maid who finished drawing all the curtains.
"She insisted on following me after she heard I'm going to wake you, Your Highness." Anya said and then added. "Her Imperial Majesty requests your presence at breakfast"
"Alright." With that said, he reached out to the toys displayed beside the bed and handed them to his sister "Play with these, Olga. I'm going to wash up first." He ruffled his sister's hair one last time before going to the wash room.
Minutes later, he came back refreshed, dressed in his most comfortable clothes, free of the elaborated styles and stiff fabrics that marked his station. The weight of formality doesn't appeal to him. As long as it's not a formal occasion, he would wear his comfortable clothes, ordered and requested from the royal seamstress.
"Come, Olga." He reached out his hand to his little sister, which she happily took. They left the room and made their way to the dining hall, followed by Anya.
Dining hall…
His mother narrowed her eyes the moment she saw what her son was wearing as he entered the hall. Alexei paid it no mind and greeted them with ease.
"Good morning, Father. Good morning, Mother."
He guided her sister, Olga to her seat, then walked over to his one-year-old sister, Tatiana, and gently pinched her cheek. She reached out her arms, clearly wanting to be carried, but he acted as if he didn't see it and continued on to his assigned seat, settling in quietly to wait for breakfast.
His father, seeing that everyone had arrived, said, "Let's pray." He led the prayer himself.
Alexei bowed his head as well, joining in silently. But to whom was he praying? He wasn't sure. Still, he offered a quiet prayer of gratitude, to whatever force is responsible for his repeated reincarnation.
After his father finished the prayer, they began to eat. Alexei took a small portion of everything on the table. He had a big appetite, but he never ate much in front of his family. Instead, he would usually slip into the kitchen after a formal breakfast or dinner to ask for another meal from the chef. By this point, the chef was already well acquainted with Alexei.
He was enjoying his breakfast when his father spoke.
"Last time, on your birthday, you asked to join the hunting retreat in the Bialowieza Forest this spring. Your mother agreed, but you won't be firing any guns. Is that acceptable to you?"
Alexei offered a rare smile and replied, "Yes, Father." Then he turned to his mother. "Thank you, Mother."
His mother, Alexandra, unaccustomed to seeing her son smile, felt a quiet joy rise within her. She silently praised herself for making such a wise decision. Smiling, she said, "As long as you're happy, my son. But you must listen to the people that we will assign to you during the hunt. And you" She looked pointedly at her husband "don't let yourself be swayed if Alexei tries to charm you into letting him fire a rifle. I know you, one pleading look from him and you'll give in."
His mother took a sip of her tea and continued, "Look at your son. You let him choose and request his own clothes from the royal seamstress, and now look what's happened, he hardly wears anything proper anymore. He's only five years old, and you're already spoiling him far too much."
Nicholas was momentarily speechless, quietly wondering how the conversation had shifted so quickly from their son to himself. Still, he smiled and replied, "Of course, a rifle is dangerous. I won't let him fire it, even if he cries."
Not that he would, Nicholas mused. His son hadn't cried since he was two.
"Good," his mother said, satisfied, and resumed eating.
After that brief exchange, they continued their meal in silence. Once they had finished, each quietly sipped their preferred refreshments, until his mother suddenly spoke again.
"Alexei, I'm hosting a party in the palace garden this afternoon, and you will be joining me. The other ladies will be bringing their children, and I expect you to play with them. Is that understood?"
She placed particular emphasis on the last part, clearly leaving no room for refusal.
It seemed his mother was preparing to introduce Alexei to the court, positioning him, perhaps, as part of her growing influence. He let out a quiet sigh, then replied, "Yes, Mother."
"Why are you sighing? You act far too much like an adult already, Alexei, and clearly, you are not," his mother chided. "You need to have friends. They'll be important to you in the future, especially if they are loyal."
Before he could respond with his agreement, she continued, "Oh, Your father and I found tutors and attendants for you. Since you love books so much, you might as well begin your lessons. As for your attendants, they'll accompany you on your daily activities and protection. I'll introduce you to them after the party this afternoon."
His mother simply wouldn't stop talking. But deep down, Alexei was secretly pleased. He was eager to start learning, and this would give him a reason to explain why he could eventually read so fluently. Until now, he had only been pretending to look at the pages of the book. As for his attendants. He just hopes they won't be so nosy in the future.
"Thank you mother." He replied.
His mother was about to speak again when a knock sounded at the door. Boris, his father's personal aide, entered.
"I apologize for interrupting your breakfast, Your Imperial Majesties," he said with a bow, then walked over to his father and whispered something in his ear.
When Boris finished, his father grew momentarily thoughtful, then rose from his seat.
"I'm sorry, my dear," he said, addressing his wife. "It seems I have to attend to some matters of the state."
He offered her an apologetic smile as he stood, then leaned down to kiss her forehead. "I'll see you this evening."
One by one, he kissed each of the children on the forehead, Alexei included, before making his way to the door and quietly leaving the room.
After his father was gone, his mother rose from her seat and turned to the maids. "We're finished here. Please take the children to the nursery. And Anya, make sure Alexei is properly prepared for the party this afternoon."
With that, she bent to kiss each of the children, lingering a bit longer with Tatiana, who was reaching up to be carried. She had no choice but to comfort the baby for a while before finally leaving the room to prepare for the party.
Alexei felt a quiet sense of relief once his parents had gone about their own affairs. He was never quite comfortable being the center of attention during conversation. He followed his sisters to the nursery and played with them for a while before turning to Anya.
"I'm tired. I want to sleep." He told her.
Anya gently guided him to his room. Once she was gone, he waited for a moment to be sure, then sat cross-legged in a lotus position and began to cultivate. He still had a few hours before lunch, and the afternoon party.