“Peter the Great, Catherine the Great. The only other ‘Great’ I can think of is Charlemagne,” Alix observed.
“It’s not an epithet that is frequently bestowed.” Nicholas hesitated before adding, “When I was little, I told my tutor that I would be remembered in history as Nicholas the Great. He said it was impossible.”
“Why?”
“He told me that ‘the Great’ was a term used for people who changed the world, and that Russia was done changing.That it was no use trying to modernize Russia any more than it already had been.”
Alix wasn’t quite certain what Nicholas meant by modernization—building more factories? Changing the political structure?—but decided that the details weren’t relevant. If anyone could change this great giant of a nation, it was the young man before her.
“Of course Russia can change,” she said adamantly. “But it won’t happen the traditional Romanov way, through stubbornness and sheer force of will.”
Nicholas stared at her. “What do you mean?”
“Russia is vast. It may have been enough for Peter the Great to live in a hut and pave the roads alongside his men, but that kind of action won’t work any longer. In Hesse it might,” she added, with a self-deprecating smile. “Did I tell you that every Christmas, I distribute baskets of bread around the village? That’sourway of combating poverty.”
“You distribute baskets of bread,” Nicholas repeated.
Alix reddened. She hadn’t meant to remind him of the disparities in their positions—the fact that her father led a small German duchy, while his father controlled one-sixth of the earth’s surface.
“Yes, every Christmas,” she said firmly, determined not to be embarrassed by something so important to her. “That kind of charity would never succeed in Russia. It would be like trying to stop a torrential flood by laying a single row of bricks.”
“I’m afraid I would run out of bread.” Nicholas flashed her a teasing smile, which gave Alix the courage to continue.
“What I mean is, Peter the Great’s approach won’t work for modern Russia. To change things now requires more thanaction; it requiresideas.And you have plenty of those. It will be difficult, certainly, because everything is more extreme in Russia—your nights are longer, your cold is more bitter, your parties are more…dramatic. You cannot do things by half measure here. But it’s no use trying to make the present along the same lines as the past.”
She flung out a hand, indicating the painted faces of all the long-dead tsars and tsarinas. They were meant to inspire awe, but they suddenly seemed so flat and dull compared to the living, breathing man before her.
“You are here, andyouare the future of Russia. It’s time to look forward, not back,” she finished.
Nicholas was watching her, an unreadable expression on his face. “You know, Alix, you’re more Russian than you realize.”
“There are certain things I would enjoy about being Russian,” she agreed: a bold declaration, though it came out in a whisper.
Nicholas’s eyes met hers. Alix felt something stirring inside her, pulling her forward and terrifying her at the same time.
She took an unconscious step toward him—and as she did, her heel caught in her hem.
For a terrifying moment Alix thought she might crash to the floor; she flung her arms out and closed her eyes, praying she wouldn’t knock over some priceless bronze bust. Then a pair of hands closed around her waist.
Alix should have just let Nicholas pull her upright. But she was flustered, and whipped her head toward him as he turned his cheek away—causing her mouth to brush againsthis.
For a fraction of an instant, Nicholas’s lips softened, before he set her on her feet.
Neither of them spoke. They just stood there for a moment, the only sound the echo of Alix’s heart thudding wildly and frantically in her chest.
Nicholas’s gaze dropped from Alix’s eyes to her lips. The almost-kiss hovered between them, as gossamer and fragile as a butterfly. Alix found that she wanted to snatch it up and hold it close.
Then the tsarevich’s expression shuttered. “We should return to the party.”
Alix hurried to step back, forcing a smile. “Clumsy me! I always trip when I borrow Ella’s gowns, since she’s slightly taller.” Somehow she managed to hide the bitter sting of his rejection, or whatever had just happened between them.
Really, nothinghadhappened, she told herself. Alix had tripped, and Nicholas had stepped forward like a gentleman to help her; that was all.
He obviously thought nothing more of it, so neither would she.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Hélène
