Alexei made his way toward the palace garden, wearing his semi formal attire for the occasion. Even in semi formal, his attire felt stiff and uncomfortable. He would've preferred his comfortable clothes if his mother would allow it. "No matter, as long as he can find an excuse to leave early, that would be great." He thought.
It did not take long for Alexei to arrive. Guided by Anya, he proceeded directly to his mother, who was surrounded by noble ladies engaged in light conversation and polite gossip.
"Good afternoon, Mother," He said, offering a respectful nod. After a brief pause, he turned to the assembled ladies and added. "Good afternoon, ladies."
After that, he looked at her mother again. Not bothering to respond to their smiles and polite return greetings.
She gave him a brief, scrutinizing look, eyes narrowing slightly as she checked for any imperfections in his attire. Once assured that everything was as it should be, she gave a subtle nod and began presenting him to the ladies gathered around her. Alexei quietly remembers every single one of them. Especially the Montenegrin princesses. They were quite popular in the court. He heard maids talking about them.
Following the introduction, Alexei was instructed by his mother to join the other children on the garden lawn. The lawn appeared to have been specially prepared for the occasion, with various entertainers and an assortment of toys scattered around for the children to enjoy.
He made his way to a quiet corner and observed the activities. Some children were playing Gorodki, while others were engaged in card games. The entertainers performed magic tricks to the delight of the crowd. A few children, too proud of their aristocratic background, chose instead to draw or write their letters.
Meanwhile, as Alexei stood watching the entertainers from a quiet corner of the garden, four children, Sergei, Elena, Marina, and Roman, huddled together behind a neatly trimmed hedge, whispering nervously.
Marina said anxiously. "We've been standing here for ages. Someone has to go first."
Sergei, the eldest among them, replied. "You do it, Marina. You're always talking."
Marina nearly shouted. "Not to a Tsarevich!"
Elena, after a moment of thought, suggested. "Maybe we should all go together?"
"Fine." Sergei said with a sigh. "We'll go together. I'll do the talking."
Roman, clearly too young to follow everything, simply listened quietly to his sister Marina and their cousins.
They all nodded in agreement, formed a shaky line, and slowly made their way toward Alexei.
Alexei had already noticed them from the corner of his eye but remained still, pretending to be focused on a juggler tossing wooden pins.
As the group approached, Sergei stepped forward and gave a slight bow.
"Hello, Your Highness." He said.
Alexei turned to look at them, his expression unreadable. He let the silence stretch, and the children shifted nervously under his gaze.
After a brief pause, Alexei finally replied. "Hi."
The awkward silence returned for a moment, until Elena stepped forward with a burst of courage.
"Would you like to play with us? We're about to start a game of Durak." She said brightly.
Alexei glanced across the lawn toward his mother, who was watching him intently. Beside her, the Montenegrin princesses smiled encouragingly.
"Ah." He thought. "These must be their children."
"All right." Alexei agreed. He might as well play with them than getting an earful from his mother later.
The children broke into relieved smiles, exchanging quick glances of triumph, proud to have completed their little diplomatic mission.
They made their way to another corner where the table and cards were already set up. After taking their seats, they began to introduce themselves to one another, including Alexei.
But there was only one problem.
"I don't know how to play." Alexei admitted to his newfound playmates. He had never played the game before, especially since this was his first time interacting with other children, aside from his sisters, of course.
"Don't worry, we'll teach you." Sergei said encouragingly.
Elena and Marina chimed in as well, assuring him that it was very easy.
Roman, meanwhile, remained quiet, seemingly shy.
This was the first time Alexei interacted with other noble children. In the past, he would simply sit quietly, absorbed in a book, ignoring everyone around him. Even on his birthdays, he would do the same. Now that he thought about it, isolating himself might have drawn even more attention. People at court might call him strange or use other unkind words to describe him. Gossip and whispers would inevitably follow.
But there was nothing he could do about it, that was simply the way he was. He couldn't force himself to do things he didn't want to do.
Nevertheless, it seemed he needed to do the things he disliked, just this once.
He looked at the children around him and thought, "They'll do." He might as well befriend them, at least on the surface. They would make a good cover. Besides, it seemed they were also being forced to befriend him. He might as well use that to his advantage. Who knows? Maybe they could actually become good friends.
With that decided, he began interacting with them more, asking questions about the game and about the other children present. They seemed to forget that they were there on a mission assigned by their parents and simply started playing, as children naturally do.
It didn't take long for them to get bored and decided to play another game. Alexei followed along, and when he admitted once again that he didn't know how to play, they began teaching him. Soon, they were all enjoying themselves, completely losing track of time.
Not Alexei, of course. While he did enjoy the game, he remained attentive to their surroundings.
He noticed that his mother looked pleased, frequently glancing in their direction. The Montenegrin princesses also seemed delighted that their children had befriended him, while the other noble ladies appeared to regret not instructing their own children to do the same.
"It looks like I made the right decision." He mused.
When he thought that he played enough with his new friends. He excused himself. Telling them that he needed to go back to his mother. They were reluctant to see him go at first. But eventually agreed.
He began walking back to his mother but was soon met by his sister, who came running to greet him, clearly delighted to see her favorite and only brother. He casually embraced her for a moment before gently leading her back to their mother.
"Mother, I'm hungry" He gently rubs his stomach to express his hunger.
"Oh my, come son, there is a lot of food in here." His mother led him to the table and asked Anya to attend to his son.
While he sat there waiting for the food delivered by Anya. Other noble ladies began talking to him but he just smiled and sometimes gave a silly laugh like other children.
It didn't take long for the food to arrive and he began eating. He eats while listening to their conversation, secretly of course.
After he finished eating, he waited for a moment before standing up and walking over to his mother. Leaning in close to her ear, he whispered quietly, "I've soiled myself, Mother."
His mother, startled at first, quickly recovered and called for Anya to take Alexei to his room and get him cleaned up.
And with that, he was finally free.
Once in the room, he insisted on cleaning up himself, much to Anya's amusement. Not that this was the first time. Still, she waited patiently outside the washroom for him to finish.
When he emerged, now dressed in more comfortable clothes, he said. "Anya, I'm tired. I don't want to go back."
"Your Highness, your mother will be angry if you don't return to the party." she replied, clearly worried. She didn't want to be scolded either, bringing Alexei back to the party was her responsibility.
"Tell Mother that I'm going to sleep for a while to rest. I'm sure it'll be fine." Alexei had no desire to return, there were just too many people.
"But, Your Highness, you just took a nap this morning." Anya protested. She just doesn't get it, does she? Alexei thought for a moment.
"Then tell Mother I might've eaten something bad. Say my stomach is acting up again, and I don't want to risk embarrassing myself in front of everyone. She'll understand."
Anya hesitated but eventually nodded. "All right. But you must stay in your room until I return."
"Don't worry, Anya. I'm just going to take another nap." Alexei assured her.
She looked at him for a moment, then sighed and quietly left the room.
Finally, he had a moment to himself. Oh, right... I still have to meet with my tutors and attendants after the party, he thought with a sigh, then laid down to rest.
—----
It didn't take long before the time came to meet his new tutors and attendants. He made his way to where they were gathered and found his mother there, clearly displeased that he hadn't returned to the party, but she kept her frustration to herself.
He glanced around the room at the assembled group. He didn't recognize all of them, so he waited patiently for his mother to make the introductions.
After taking a moment to compose herself, his mother stood up and began.
"Alexei, these are the gentlemen who will be part of your attendants from this day forward. They are here to guide you, serve you, and ensure your well-being."
She gestured to the tall, broad-shouldered man in naval uniform, his bearing still that of a disciplined sailor. "This is Klimenty Grigorievich Nagorny. He will be your personal guard. He will accompany you wherever necessary."
Nagorny bowed respectfully, his expression solemn. Alexei just nodded.
Next, she motioned to a middle aged man with sharp features and observant eyes.
"This is Ivan Dmitrievich Sednev. He will serve as your personal attendant, alongside Anya.
Sednev offered a polite smile and a short bow. Alexei just nodded again.
"Now, to your tutors."
Her mother gestured to a serious-looking man in spectacles, his suit crisp and his hands clasped behind his back. "This is Mr. Breshko-Breshkovsky. He will be your mathematics tutor. I trust you'll give him your full attention."
Mr. Breshko-Breshkovsky gave a curt nod. "I look forward to working with you, Your Highness."
"And this," she continued, motioning to a slightly older gentleman with thoughtful eyes and a scholarly air, "is Pyotr Vasilievich Petrov, who will be teaching you Russian language and literature."
Petrov smiled gently. "It will be a privilege to teach you, Your Imperial Highness."
Alexei gave a slight nod of acknowledgment, keeping his posture composed. Despite the stiff introductions, he studied each man carefully, already considering how best to deal with them, work with them, or avoid them if needed. One thing was certain, life would no longer be as quiet as it had been.
"Thank you, Mother," Alexei said softly.
"Now go on. I still have matters to attend to. Your lessons will begin tomorrow," she replied, already making her way toward the door. She had likely given them their instructions beforehand.
Once she was out of sight, Alexei turned to face his new companions and gave a polite nod.
"Hello, everyone. I'm Alexei. Please take care of me."
They smiled at that. Thankful to have a polite Tsarevich to attend to.
—--
Days passed, and winter arrived. Life had become slow and monotonous. He spent his mornings and afternoons with his tutors, following a rigid routine. Wherever he went, he was always accompanied by Nagorny and Sednev. Thankfully, they don't keep watch over him while he sleeps. As it will hinder his nightly escapades into the city.
Alexei only went out once a week now, due to the winter. During those trips, he would check on their progress and bring food. He was quite worried that their small hut might be ransacked, especially with people in the slums seeking shelter to survive the cold.
That's why, during his last visit, he had instructed them to run and hide if anything happened, and to wait for his return to deal with any intruders.
He didn't mind getting rid of a few pests, if it came to that.
It felt like a lifetime ago since he last killed someone. Back then, taking a life had become second nature, an instinct honed not out of cruelty, but survival. He had lived in a world where hesitation meant death, where trust was a luxury he couldn't afford, and mercy was often a fatal mistake. Each kill had carved something out of him, piece by piece, until there was little left but purpose and caution. Now, in the stillness of palace life, those memories felt like distant echoes, unreal and weightless. Yet the instinct remained. He didn't regret what he'd done. Regret was a privilege for men who hadn't been forced to fight for every breath.
—----
February 1901
Anna was currently cleaning their hut. She knew that their benefactor, or whoever he truly was, could arrive at any moment to check on their progress once more. She wanted to at least present their modest hut as clean and orderly, no matter how weathered or worn it looked.
These past few months still felt like a dream. Just having food to eat each day was something she never thought she'd experience again. The gnawing hunger that used to haunt her and her siblings had been replaced by warm meals and the comfort of knowing they were safe, if only for now.
She didn't know why he helped them. She thought about the time when they met. They didn't know what to do back then. Their parents had just died, and they had no aunts or uncles to turn to for help. It felt as if her life had ended right there. She had three younger siblings to feed, and after their parents passed, they had only managed to gather enough food to last about fifteen days. It didn't take long for that to run out.
She led her siblings to the waste dump, where they scavenged for anything that could be traded for a few coins, rags, bones, glass and bits of metals. They managed to survive for a month by selling scraps. For a brief moment, they thought they could keep going like that, that maybe things were getting better.
But trouble came quickly. A group of older boys warned them to stop scavenging in the area, claiming it as their territory. She refused. She knew how important that work was for her siblings' survival. So they returned anyway. That's when they were spotted, and that was the first time they were beaten.
Still, they endured. They tried other ways to earn money for food, but no one would hire them. They begged on the streets, but no one gave them anything. They were starving. She didn't know what else to do.
Desperate, they went back to the dump site once more, hoping to find enough scraps to get through another day. But this time, they were caught again, and the beating was worse.
At that moment, she thought it might be better to just die.
And then, he appeared.
He walked towards them.
He asked them if they wanted food just after they were beaten. He stood in front of them as if he weren't a child just like them. She knows at least that much judging by his height. He looked at least 8 years old. But he gave something like a towering figure as if they were safe if they clung into him.
She hesitated at first. But her siblings said yes right away, as if it wasn't strange for someone to offer help without asking for anything in return. What made it even more unsettling was that he wore a mask that completely hid his face.
But hunger won out. So they accepted.
She asked him what he wanted in return, but he simply said he needed people, and that they would be it.
She remained cautious at first, keeping her siblings at a distance from him. Only she interacted with him directly. If he turned out to be dangerous, she was prepared to sacrifice herself to protect them.
But the food kept coming. Day after day, more than they had ever dared to hope for. And slowly, her suspicion gave way to gratitude.
Then, he began teaching them letters and numbers, something they had never even dreamed of learning. When she asked why he was teaching them, he answered bluntly: "You'd be useless if you don't know how to read and write."
She wanted to get angry. The word useless stung. But the life he had given them weighed more heavily than the insult. So she said nothing.
He didn't stop at just teaching them letters and numbers. He also taught them how to defend themselves. But he always emphasized one thing, If you can run, then run.
She didn't understand why he was teaching them that, but she figured that having more skills was better than none.
What puzzled her most was how someone who looked like a child could know so much. She wanted to ask, but ultimately decided against it. They were already receiving so much from him, and prying into his secrets might only anger their strange benefactor.
It didn't take long before he asked something of them. He wanted them to listen to the gossip and news circulating around the slums, which wasn't much, but it was something. They can finally do something for him. So she and her siblings began paying attention to every bit of chatter, whether small or significant, and reported everything to their benefactor whenever he visited.
He also taught them how to listen carefully and how to ask questions that didn't sound intrusive, but, if answered, could get them closer to the information they needed.
Yet again, another skill their benefactor possessed. She couldn't help but wonder how he knew so much. Maybe he's a witch, she thought, but quickly dismissed the idea.She believed he was a good person, judging by how much he had helped them.
She was pulled from her thoughts by a sudden knock on the door.
"I'll take it." Petrov, her younger brother, called out excitedly as he rushed toward the door before she could even respond. Her brother didn't even check who it was through the peephole and directly unlocked the door.
"Petrov, wait!" She started, her voice sharp with alarm, but it was already too late.
The door burst open with a loud crash. A heavy boot kicked it wide, sending the boy flying backward with a sickening thud. He slammed into the floor and let out a pained cry, clutching his side.
"Petrov!" She screamed. Her heart slammed in her chest as two unfamiliar men stepped over the threshold.
They were both middle-aged and scruffy, reeking of alcohol and smoke. The one in front had a crooked nose and sunken cheeks, while the other, broader man carried a rusted bat slung over his shoulder. Their eyes scanned the small room like predators sizing up helpless prey.
"Oh, only kids? We're lucky." The man in front sneered, smirking. "This'll be easy."
"Hey, brats." The one with the bat barked, waving the weapon in a wide arc. "This place belongs to us now. Get out, or we'll throw you out."
She barely heard him. All she could see was Petrov curled on the floor, crying softly, one arm trembling as he tried to push himself up.
Without thinking, she darted past the intruders and knelt beside her brother. "It's okay. I'm here." She whispered, inspecting him quickly for injuries. Relief mixed with panic. He was hurt, but not badly.
But her defiance had caught the attention of the man with the bat.
"Oh, so you're not scared?" He jeered. "Looks like I'll have to make an example out of you."
He raised the bat, his eyes flashing with cruel delight.
"Leave her alone!" Came a cry, and in a blur, her twin brothers hurled themselves at the attacker. They grabbed at the bat, trying to wrench it from his grip.
But they were no match for a grown man. With one powerful motion, he yanked the bat free and drove his fist into the stomach of one twin, then the face of the other. The boys crumpled to the floor, gasping and dazed.
"Haha! What courageous little rats." The man laughed. "Let's have some fun with them, Orlov."
The other man, Orlov, grinned and kicked one of the boys in the ribs. "Haven't had a good beating in days. This'll be fun."
"No, stop! Please!" She shouted, standing protectively in front of her brothers. Her voice cracked with desperation, tears brimming in her eyes.
But they didn't care. The man with the bat raised it again, this time aiming for her. She braced herself, expecting the blow, her mind racing with a single thought. "This is it. We're going to die here."
They had no way out. The only door was blocked, and the windows were too small to escape through. She had no weapons, no strength to fight back. All she could do was shield her siblings with her body and hope the pain wouldn't last long. Then everything changed. There was a shadow at the doorway.
The first man, the one who had threatened them, suddenly stiffened. His mouth fell open, eyes wide with confusion as he reached behind his neck. A knife protruded from the base of his skull.
Before he could even fall, Orlov turned in shock, but another knife embedded itself cleanly into his neck. He stumbled forward, collapsed onto the floor beside his friend, and didn't move again. Blood pooled beneath their bodies, spreading across the old wooden floor.
She gasped, frozen in place. Her eyes darted to the doorway. There he was. Alexei.
He stood there, calm and composed, as if the violence he had just committed were nothing more than a routine. The fading light from outside glinted off the edge of his throwing knives as he stepped forward. His expression was hidden behind the mask, but the fury in his eyes was unmistakable.
No words were spoken.
She stared at him, overwhelmed, by shock, by relief, by the horror of what had just happened. Her siblings whimpered behind her, and she could hear Petrov trying to sit up, crying softly.
Alexei approached, retrieving the knives from the intruders and wiping the blood from the blades with a piece of cloth. Once cleaned, he slipped them back into his coat. Then he knelt beside the injured twins and Petrov. He didn't speak, just checked their pulses with quick, methodical movements. His hands were precise, practiced and surprisingly gentle.
"You're brothers are okay." He said at last, voice low and even.
She blinked rapidly, the tears finally spilling down her cheeks. She didn't know what to say. She couldn't move.
He looked at her then, eyes steady. "I told you to keep the door locked."
"I…. I'm sorry." She whispered, her voice barely audible.
He didn't scold her. He stood and glanced at the bodies, then turned toward the door. "I'll take care of this. Stay inside and watch over them."
She didn't say anything. She simply watched as he dragged one of the bodies out of the house, then returned a few minutes later to remove the other.
In her daze, she had forgotten that her brothers were still injured. A soft whimper behind her snapped her back to reality. When she turned and saw her brothers crying from the pain, guilt washed over her. How could she have forgotten? She silently scolded herself, then quickly rushed to tend to them.
Alexei returned after an hour. She didn't say anything and simply continued cleaning the house. There was still blood on the floor, and she needed to scrub it quickly before it stained the wood.
"I dumped them in an abandoned warehouse not far from here." He said as he took a seat on one of the stools. "We're lucky, your neighbors either didn't hear anything or just didn't care. Doesn't matter. You're all safe for now. But make sure you clean the blood on the floor thoroughly, just in case someone comes to check. No one will suspect you then."
He paused, then scanned the room again.
"So, how are your brothers?" He asked.
"They're okay now. They fell asleep right after I cleaned their wounds." She replied, grabbing a scrub brush and kneeling to continue cleaning the blood from the floor.
"Why didn't you run?" He asked, clearly wanting a clearer picture of what had happened.
"We couldn't. They were blocking the door, and everything happened too fast. I couldn't stop Petrov from opening it." She said while scrubbing, then added softly. "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault." He said after a moment. She couldn't tell if he meant it or was simply trying to ease her guilt. Then he continued, his tone more decisive.
"You and your brothers need to move to a new house this spring. Don't worry about the money, I'll handle it. In the meantime, find a place here in the slum that's bigger than this and can be secured tightly from the inside. That's the minimum requirement."
Anna opened her mouth to protest, to tell him he didn't need to go this far, but nothing came out. The words died in her throat. Deep down, she knew the truth, they had no choice but to rely on him now. The guilt weighed heavy on her chest, and after everything she had witnessed tonight, she felt too numb to push back. All she could do was follow his lead.
She glanced at her brothers, still asleep. Please, she thought, let them be okay after seeing those dead bodies.
"…Okay." She murmured, eyes lowered.
He gave a small nod, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, though it remained hidden behind his mask.
"You adapted quickly, Anna," He said, watching her closely. "You didn't even panic, didn't throw up when you saw the dead bodies."
She lifted her gaze and managed a tired smile, too drained to tell whether it was meant as praise or something else. Either way, she appreciated the acknowledgement more than she expected.
Turning away, he stepped toward the door, scanning the broken frame. "Once you finish cleaning, get some rest. I'll fix this."
She looked at the blood-stained floor, then back at him. "Mmm." She replied quietly, genuinely grateful he was staying a little longer to help.
It didn't take long for them to finish. While she scrubbed away the last of the blood, he worked silently on the door and locks. His movements were efficient, almost like it was second nature.
Once he was done, he straightened and brushed the dust from his sleeves. "This spring, I'll be gone for over a month, maybe more. When I return, we'll buy the house, if you've found one that meets the requirements."
Anna nodded, barely holding back a yawn. "I'll look around."
He studied her for a moment, maybe reading the exhaustion in her face, then stepped back toward the door.
"Looks like there won't be any lessons tonight. Goodbye, then.
He closed the door. With that, he disappeared into the quiet night.
Anna stared at the closed door for a moment, then she turned away and moved slowly through the dim room, careful not to wake her brothers. Every muscle in her body ached, not just from the scrubbing or the tension, but from the weight of everything that happened that night.
By the time she lay down on her thin mattress, the room had gone still again. She pulled the blanket over herself, listening to the soft, steady breathing of her siblings.
Her eyes drifted to the ceiling.
"Please" she prayed silently. "Just let everything be better tomorrow."
And with that final thought, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.