RE: BLOOD AND IRON

Bruno and Nicholas were practically in a contest to see who could get more intoxicated as they sat on a perch above the gardens below, sheltered from the elements, gazing upon their two children, both of whom were silently casting a gaze toward one another at the exact moment the other looked away.

It was an infuriating prospect, because it was clear there was something between the two young nobles—one a prince who would inherit an empire, and one a countess who, in a few months’ time, would be a princess in her own right. The perfect match for the future Tsar of Russia. But both were reserved by their very nature and couldn’t be compelled to act in a way that felt daunting to them.

Barely into their teenage years, the two of them were most certainly what one would call apprehensive toward the idea of embarrassing themselves. They were far from mature enough to understand that it didn’t matter what anyone else thought of them or their behavior so long as they acted true to their own desires, beliefs, and most importantly, in a way that aligned with their internal sense of virtue.

Nicholas was seemingly exasperated as the liquid in the bottle rapidly vanished with each passing minute. But Bruno, a man who had a keen eye for things—especially those close to him—noticed that his daughter was subtly working up the courage to say something.

It was clear by the way she silently fidgeted with her hands that she wanted to speak with the boy next to her about anything, but just couldn’t find the strength to do so, least of all with the entire entourage following them.

However, just when Nicholas was about to break from the awkwardness of it all, someone made a move—a single gesture to drag Elsa out of her shell and force the girl into a topic of conversation that she was far more comfortable speaking about in the company of others.

It was, of course, none other than Alexei’s eldest sister, Olga Nikolaevna, who in her younger and less wise years had developed some shallow feelings toward Elsa’s father—a man who was still, in her own eyes, the greatest hero she had ever laid eyes on.

Years had passed since Olga and Bruno had regularly communicated. She had been used by the man rather mercilessly as a stepping stone to get the attention of the Tsar, who was the real prize in the world of geopolitics, especially when Bruno was already a happily married man.

Olga had long since gotten over her misplaced childish affections toward the man. As she grew older, she realized they were more akin to a deep respect than actual, genuine love. Even so, she couldn’t help but ask about the man after seeing how dreadfully awkward Elsa and Alexei were behaving.

“Pardon my interruption, but Elsa, I do have to ask—as I am very curious—just how close are you and your father?”

A rather strange question for anyone who did not know the history between the Grand Duchess of Russia and Germany’s most feared Field Marshal. But one that caused her younger sisters to sigh in lament and shake their heads, feeling this might be a sign that Olga had never truly recovered from Bruno’s silent rejection of her “feelings.”

On the contrary, this was an attempt from Olga’s perspective to force Elsa out of what was clearly a frightened, shy, and nervous state by approaching a topic she was more comfortable entertaining.

The plan worked as well as it possibly could have—but much to Olga’s chagrin—as Elsa began to open up about her family life, much to the Grand Duchess’s personal dismay. The ice princess immediately roasted her in the most brutal manner possible, while still maintaining respect for her position—almost as if it were completely unintentional.

“My relationship with my father is quite well, thank you very much… So much so that he told me all about you, and how you used to chase after his coattails when you were my age…

Quite honestly, Your Grace, it is a bit… unbecoming of a woman in your position to pursue a foreign nobleman of lower birth who was already married with children when you had your first encounter… Some might even say it was shameless, even—if one were so inclined to engage in such scandalous gossip. Not that I am the type of woman to do so…”

Olga felt like she had just been struck by an artillery shell as all of her sisters looked at her in shock. They all knew the girl had been crushing hard on Bruno when she was younger, and they mostly understood it to have been a phase. But for Elsa to so ruthlessly rip into her like this was not something anyone had anticipated.

Alexei, not being aware of his eldest sister’s inclinations toward his fiancée’s father, was shocked—but also saw this as a chance to make trouble for the young woman. He innocently looked at her in a way that only those close to him knew was completely intentional before adding salt to the mortal wound the Grand Duchess had just received.

“Sister, are you telling me you actually chased after a married man who was nearly twice your age? Why have I never heard this before? And you have the gall to ask the man’s daughter about her relationship with him? I can’t help but wonder what exactly your intentions are with such an admittedly bold but… naïve endeavor…”

Olga knew her little brother was screwing with her, but she could do nothing but stutter in her defense as she realized she had been completely outsmarted by the two little brats who had conspired against her.

Hoisted on her own petard, so to speak, the woman simply smirked and laughed as she brazenly admitted to it in a way that completely defused the munitions that Elsa and Alexei had pointed in her direction.

“That’s right. I’m not ashamed to admit it. When I was your age, Elsa, I did fancy your father… I was a foolish little girl. But I would be careful making fun of me for that, because I’m not the only one in that regard. In fact, if you mock me, you are also mocking Princess Victoria Louise of Prussia, the Archduchess Hedwig of Austria, and Princess Sakura of Japan…

We even had our own little alliance at one point—a bunch of foolish little girls stricken by your father’s passive charm. So you would best not say another word, lest you might unite the combined might of the Central Powers against you!”

Elsa’s jaw practically dropped to the floor as she witnessed the shamelessness of the Tsar’s daughter, openly admitting she had a childish crush on her brother’s fiancée’s father. It was an absurdity she never thought she would see.

And the look on Olga’s face was not one of shame—but pride. There were no words to describe what she was witnessing. She honestly did not know how to react. That is, until Alexei and all his sisters broke out into joyous laughter, allowing Elsa to finally realize that it was acceptable for her to do the same.

Olga simply looked up to where Bruno and her father were seated, giving them an almost indiscernible wink before helping the entourage along further into the garden. The Tsar looked over at Bruno and made a statement after seeing this—one that made Bruno choke on his alcohol to the point he began coughing violently.

“You know… My daughter Olga is still without a husband. Have you ever thought about having a mistress here in Saint Petersburg?”

Bruno practically fell to the floor from the sudden comment, the fiery vodka spreading through his lungs in the most painful way possible. Trying to recover from the bombshell of a statement, he could only glare.

Seeing how Bruno was not the slightest bit moved by the offer—or even finding it humorous—Nicholas could only sigh and shake his head as he admitted he felt very sorry for his own daughter.

“That poor girl. She just had to fall in love with the one German nobleman who actually took his wedding vows seriously…”

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