I reckon he still gets a vote, but socially he is ostracised by Romanovs and polite society in general, so he is most likely to claim illness, unless his vote is crucial.
The Regency Crisis of '75: An Imperial Russian Tale
- Thread starter Greg Grant
- Start date
Correct.
He misses the cutoff, due to age. Only Romanov males in good standing over the age of 30 can vote at the Gathering. Little Nikki is 25 years old.
Pavel Pavlovich is massively overreacting here, but for about 17 minutes he felt the power he never expected to have in his life. Boris II and his health was a constant parlor game among the Romanovs. But once Boris II re-legitimized Nicholas, Pavel Pavlovich's window to any meaningful power narrowed. Once Nicholas fathered two healthy sons, he was cutoff. Now, through a freak accident, he had a momentary change to be the undisputed Regent and shape the mind of the future Tsar and then... poof... all gone. He is still a jackass, of course, but also a bundle of nerves. He has no idea how to act in this situation because he never dreamed of this situation. And while the other Romanovs are playing politics because they never dreamed of this either, but are taking full advantage, he finds the whole things to be unseemly. The idea that power can be gained through votes, or deals, disgusts him. If not for Khioniya, he'd not even have bothered to reach out to anyone.
He gets to sit out due to age restrictions. He is not yet 30 and as such, excluded from having a say at the Gathering. But Romanovs gossip, and so do servants, so the weird state of affairs at the Pavel Pavlovich household is not helping his reputation at all.
Chapter XXI
Chapter XXI
Powell politely declined Janet Fookes's request to speak on her behalf at Whitehaven. Worse, a frosty visit from Patricia Hornsby-Smith signaled word had gotten out. Janet was now sure the Leader of Her Majesty's Most Loyal Opposition and his Shadow Cabinet would not find their way to her constituency during the election. She needed allies if she was to survive, and so she made her way up to the Commons Smoking Room, the latest and the largest to be thus called. It was the natural preserve of the males. Female MPs avoided it as if a plague, unless summoned by a grandee holding court, which was rare. Janet had been honored as such when Willie Whitelaw wanted to congratulate her on her maiden speech. She had not been there since. She steadied her nerves, pushed open the door and walked inside, drawing a few lewd stares and ribald jokes within seconds.
Unlike the Tea Room, the party divisions were not enforced, partly due to the room being mostly Tory, though the Liberals were represented and usually found by the so-called Churchill Chair. Janet ordered some white wine, and glass in hand made her way to the Christ Church Corner, named after the Oxford college whose graduates claimed it. In Oxford, no Conservative undergraduate could hope to be elected to any office in the Tory student association unless the Christ Church mob approved him. In the real world, it was thankfully not the case, but they possessed affluence and influence.
Today, George Algernon Bathurst held court, and was drunk as a judge. Luckily for Janet, David Walder was there as well. Walder dabbled in decidedly silly romance novels, and was the most affable of the lot. Hyacinth Baldwin-Webb, the multimillionaire Paul Channon, and the somehow even more patrician Norman St John-Stevas made up the rest of the corner court today. Curiously, despite being a Christ Church man and a Tory, Robert "Robin" Maxwell-Hyslop did not patronize the corner, preferring to drink with the Liberal Christ Church man Ludovic Kennedy by the Churchill Chair near the fireplace.
"What brings you here, dearie," said Baldwin-Webb with an ugly leer.
"Well, I am about to lose my seat, so I thought I'd visit this place while I still can."
There were nods of approval, chuckles and barks of laughter.
"You shouldn't believe in the opinion polls, you know. Dangerous stuff," joked Walder.
"In the event you were somehow lucky enough to survive the purge, whom would you wish to see as our new leader," asked Bathurst, sharply. Paul Channon winced, Walder sighed, and St John-Stevas muttered, "I mean, now, really?" not quite underneath his breath.
"What are my choices?" asked Janet.
Walder took over, to prevent a scene or the use of "nautical" language.
"Informally speaking, I'd say Robert Carr, Keith Joseph, Edward Du Cann, and Frankie Chamberlain."
"I think I will need something stronger than white wine," said Janet, and drew more laughs.
The Christ Church mob despised Robert Carr because of his proximity to Ted Heath and niceness, Keith Joseph because he was a Jew, Edward Du Cann because he was not quite 16 annas to the rupee, and Sir Francis Neville Chamberlain because he did not invite them to "shoot hinds" in the country and they were offended. The conversation went swimmingly after that. There was a promise by St John-Stevas to have a good talk with Aubron Waugh, a fellow Christ Church Tory alumni who wrote for the Morning Post and contributed to some Catholic magazines St John-Stevas sponsored. Channon would "help" for some leaflets. And there'd be a visit by Walder, whose romance novels made him a name among the blue hairs in Cumbria. In return, she was asked to visit three constituencies where Christ Church alumni Michael Ancram, Alan Clark and George Young were trying to win seats. All in all, a win.
Untitled hereditary nobleman Colonel Dolgorukiy made the approach himself, partly because he lacked the time to deputize someone, but mostly because after his bruising conversation with Her Serenity, he wanted to do something, anything.
"Good day to you, Yuri Efimovich," he said to Berkutov, the under-butler of Prince Mikhail Feodorovich.
The man turned around. They were inside the dimly lit St. Gregory of Nazianzus church on the outskirts of Moscow. It was an ancient building, and needed extensive renovation, but its adherents were poor and regardless, they tried to stave off modernity. The services were typically conducted in Latgalian, a peoples living in the Livonian, Couronian and Ruthenian governorates. Berkutov's ancestors came from the eastern fringes of Livonia, and although they adopted a Russified name to make their way easier in the Russian Empire, the under-butler learned Latgalian from his rather grim grandmother and kept to the old traditions.
"You're not Security Section, Gendarmes or Okhrana. What are you?"
"I am Colonel Dolgorukiy," said the scion of the grandest and oldest Muscovite noble family, and showed his military identification, to avoid any confusion. Though the action was silly. False papers could be obtained, but certain aristocratic mannerisms took a while to adopt, and Berkutov knew them by heart. The under-butler politely inclined his head, and gestured to a pew. They sat together.
"Has anyone approached your master in the last week?"
Berkutov was tempted to play dumb, but he was dealing with a Dolgorukiy and they were in a church. The information tumbled out in a messy pile. Facts were buried there, under nonsense and opinions. Statements were sometimes repeated, and at times crucial tidbits were glossed over. Dolgorukiy let them all wash over him, not interrupting. Then when the under-butler began to triple-peat himself, the Colonel gently intervened and began to move the puzzle pieces into proper chronological order. The first solicitor for votes was a Konstantinite - Nicholas Alexeivich, who campaigned on behalf of his good cousin Gavril Ioannovich. Mikhail Feodorovich made polite noises, but did not commit himself. Then came a messenger from the household of the princeling's uncle. Vasili Alexandrovich had made a pact with Gavril Ioannovich and instructed his relatives to vote for the Konstantinite. At this point, judging by the words uttered and shrugs given, Mikhail Feodorovich intended to do just that. But then came word Vasili's own brother Alexander Alexandrovich defected to vote for a new candidate Katerina Borisovna, and Mikhail Feodorovich was observed to be nervous. The split among his uncles made him wonder if he was backing the wrong horse, and he let it know he was open to suggestions. He was immediately visited by another Konstantinite - Oleg Kirillovich, whose father made a pact with Pavel Pavlovich. The son accordingly sang the Vladimirite's praises and hinted at favors. But did not much more than that, apparently, judging by the agitation of the princeling, who expected something firmer than mere hints.
Then there were two visits by two different women. The fact the under-butler was in a church made him circumspect in describing them. The more memorable one was a brunette, who was chauffeured in an American car. She looked more than a bit as if Claudia Cardinale. The princeling was very nervous before meeting her, which Berkutov waved off as the usual pre-coital jitters. But once the woman was gone, his master was in high spirits, joking, friendly and generous, nothing at all like he was after the other woman's visit. The second woman had been a blonde. She came by a canary yellow domestic vehicle. Likely a Yastreb, or maybe a Gazelle. Spoke well, not at all like the rough brunette. But she came unbidden, which was just bad manners. She presented a card to the footman to give to the master, and waited. Naturally the footman passed on the card to the under-butler, who then gave it to the butler to present to the princeling. The card said just one thing, two words: "Crooked Horn," which was a town down in the Red Ruthenia, near Crimea, and nothing else, as far as the under-butler knew.
"What happened afterwards?"
"His Highness got quite upset upon being given the card, and demanded to have the blonde woman be shown inside, into his study. They were there half an hour, mayhap a bit longer. There was no shouting, or anything. His Highness would never scream at a woman of good diction and breeding, of course. But there were sharp words, for a bit, from what the maids gossiped."
"And then?"
"Then the blonde woman left. Never gave her name, Your High Well Born. Just gave the card. Then had that chat in the study. And then off she went in her yellow Yastreb, or mayhap a Swan."
"And your master?"
"Well, he was real nervous like. Real nervous. Paced up and down. Did not eat. Then he called for that second woman, the brunette, and after that, it was like he was a new man. Relaxed. Confident."
"So the blonde woman came first?" gently confirmed the Colonel.
"Oh yes, Your High Well Born. First the blonde, in the morning, into afternoon. Then that night, the brunette. And then, the next day, well, General-Major Count Dolgorukiy came."
Colonel Dolgorukiy stared off into the darkened nave and tried to piece together the puzzle.
The knock came at noon, on his day off, not at midnight. But it was a gendarme's knock all the same. Vovka Podlesniy made sure to put on his pants, undershirt, warm shirt, then warm socks and sturdy shoes, in case they would drag him out on the spot. He opened the door to see the bored and frankly embarrassed faces of Sumgaeet town gendarmes, and an eager new lad in a Special Section uniform and cornet's lonely stars, one on each shoulder-board.
"Document check," barked the eager young subaltern.
Vovka handed over his domestic passport. The Special Section man immediately flipped to the page with the "habitual offender" tag.
"You have 15 days to move yourself 100 versts from any center of population with more than 100,000 people. Failure to comply will result in an expulsion to a depopulated center by rail. Understood?"
"Yes, Well Born."
The Cornet showed the domestic passport to a junior under-officer, who wrote down Vovka Podlesniy's name and ID number in a loose leaf book with thick leather binding. The gendarme watchmaster, an old scoundrel who would occasionally shake down Vovka gave a look which suggested it was out of his hands and it was not about the money. Vovka understood. The Incident in Akhty made the authorities take a harder look at everyone. The Cornet returned the documents to Vovka, and was on the point of touching the brim of his cap, when he realized he was not talking to a decent citizen but a "habitual offender" and his hand froze, in an awkward state, halfway to his intended target. He balled his hand into a fist and coughed into it, as if that was his intention all along and walked away, without saying goodbye. The gendarmes followed. Vovka closed the door, sat on the bed and dug out a map from under the mattress, acquired from friends of acquaintances of strange people he once knew. It listed half-decent places in the Baku governorate which were 100 and one versts from big towns. His choices were unappetizing, and his commute to the Beau Monde Tavern would be unsustainable. He muttered a curse. It was the only thing he could do, since nothing else would help. In 15 days, he'd need to get out of town and find a new job. And odds are it would be much worse than the Beau Monde in terms of clientele, salary and quality of work.
The newspapermen and photographers began to invade Ahrensburg just after noon. General-Major Baron May-Mayevsky and his crew were quickly overwhelmed, and the Baron watched with dismay as Avian Mikhailovich came out, in full and unearned princely regalia. Avian Mikhailovich talked blandly for a bit, to get his sea legs, then brought up the Baron and the cause of the Faith and Fatherland Party, and their noble goals of make Russia a fit place for Russians. Avian discussed, in detail, having now finally visited the land of his ancestors, he understand the uphill battle the good and the decent face to stay true to their Russian roots, using impolite words to denigrate various ethnic minorities and throwing out a few Jew-baiting terms as well.
"Lastly, I want to humbly suggest to the His Great and Grand Imperial Majesty the Tsar, he should take heed of any advice given to him by his good aunt Grand Princess Katerina Borisovna, in whom I would always put my complete trust."
The Baron was agog, until he was alerted by the more capable of his goons of liveried men carrying out luggage from the hotel. The men belonged to a small boat which docked unnoticed during the press conference on the other side of the island. Alexei Avianovich supervised their taking of the suitcases. As newspapermen still shouted questions, Avian Mikhailovich grandly stalked off, for a man wearing a cape could not help but look grand as he walks off from newspapermen to an awaiting boat. Alexei was the last man onboard, waving off the newspapermen and giving the Baron one last wave as well.
***
Kitty sat down on the same bench as Alexei Avianovich, opposite the statue of Tsar Alexander III. Alexei blinked, then nodded, half to himself, half to Kitty. Kitty waited for the man to speak up first.
"If you have to make your pitch, then go on ahead, but you have nothing for me."
"I have something, but not much," said Kitty, "Because there is not much you can offer. You are finished. No Romanov will back you. You have no votes to trade, and no path to power. And due to the company your father keeps, he is seen by polite society as somewhere between arsenic and curare."
"As sales pitches go, I've heard better."
"As I said, you do not have much to offer, but you can do one thing, and get something in return for it."
"What do you want then?"
"The only thing a man seen as somewhere between arsenic and curare can offer."
Alexei Avianovich regarded her for a long moment, then spoke softly:
"A kiss of death."
Kitty suppressed an exhale of relief. She was not nervous when she arranged for the fertilizer or the cars, or the murder of Pankov. She had evaluated her team mates and knew them capable. But she was not sure if Alexei would play along. Had he stumbled here, refusing to realize what was being asked or be incapable of connecting the dots, then it would all crumble. But she wanted him to be the one to say it out loud, to be the one to realize his father's candidacy was finished. It was a gamble. But it had now paid off, provided she could stick the landing.
"Yes, and such a kiss should be planted on Katerina Borisovna."
"And what did she do to deserve such a fate?"
"Out of all the serious candidates for the position of Regent and Guardian, she is the only one who seems to overvalue the French, and place the Third Republic above the United States."
"You are American?"
"Sicilian. And the Sicilian Republic is dependent on the United States for a lot of things."
"So they called in a favor. And what favor shall you grant me?"
"Provide records that your grandmother was no longer Catholic when she married your grandfather."
"False records then," said Alexei evenly. Unlike his father he had long ago accepted what his grandfather had done and why he had done it. The man was terrified of becoming tsar, and so he deliberately sabotaged himself.
"Yes, but falsified years and years ago, and kept on file, should the need arise."
"The records first."
"This is a copy of a page from the record book of a small church in the middle of nowhere, up near Venice, where your grandfather had the ceremony. Should you double-cross or fail to comply, then..."
Alexei cut off Kitty with a nod to signal understanding, but did not take the paper offered. He craned his neck up at the pale rays of Livonian April sun, and stared at the partially clouded disk for a little bit, then shifted his glance at the hideous statue of his ancestor Tsar Alexander III and took the paper from Kitty.
***
The statement from Avian Mikhailovich on the eve of the Gathering was deemed too molten and controversial by most serious Russian newspapers, who instead noted a man by such name speaking about a variety of things off the coast of Livonia. Yet a few less reputable papers did carry his endorsement of Katerina Borisovna. Most Romanovs however heard of what Avian had said long before the stories, self-censored or otherwise, went to the printers.
Nikita Nectareyevich was on his way to Peterhof to take his place in the Gathering, but had his driver make a detour to visit Katerina Borisovna, who was in a state of agitation and confusion.
"What was that, Sunny?"
"Character assassination," grimly said Nikita Nectareyevich.
Court-Councilor Feofan Budimirovich Zub stood before Collegiate-Councilor Zahar Alexandrovich Bataev.
"I had no hand in the statement by Avian Mikhailovich," said Zub, "But I think I know who made the approach to Alexei Avianovich, though not for what reasons." He put a photograph of Kitty and Alexei Avianovich sitting on a bench in Riga. The Collegiate-Councilor picked it up.
"Give me the most vicious and recent string of unsolved murders in a major city of the Empire."
"'The Red Hammer' clubbed to death nine teenage girls in and around Moscow in the last three years."
"I am reasonably sure I understand the 'Hammer' part, but 'Red'?"
"Most of his victims wore red dresses."
"Alert the Border Guards, Customs, and the lot, about this woman, giving her an appropriately Russified French name. Say she is a 'person of interest.' I do not want her to leave the country."
In preparation for the Gathering, Prince Mikhail Feodorovich allowed himself to be dressed by his valet into the closest thing he had to a parade uniform, the silly colonel's uniform of the red-gaitered regiment of Musketeers. On most days he was ashamed of the bloody thing. But not today.
"Highness, I do not mean to disturb on such a grand occasion, but one of our servants has absconded."
"Oh," said the princeling, his eyes half-hooded.
"The under-footman, Krizhovnikov."
"Ah, that fellow. Yes, well, it was bound to happen. We'll notify authorities, after the Gathering."
Still curious to see whose horse actually killed the Tsar.
Seems time is running out for any last minute plays. Also very curious about Kitty's targeting of Katerina Borisovna, as I would've thought the UK would not care if Russia favoured the US or France as long as it was one of them since they would help normalise Russia.
This makes me wonder if the play is for a failed attempted at discrediting Katerina Borisovna which on anti foreign interference reflex might carry her to the top.
Seems time is running out for any last minute plays. Also very curious about Kitty's targeting of Katerina Borisovna, as I would've thought the UK would not care if Russia favoured the US or France as long as it was one of them since they would help normalise Russia.
This makes me wonder if the play is for a failed attempted at discrediting Katerina Borisovna which on anti foreign interference reflex might carry her to the top.
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I reckon they don't want the votes to be split on the anti-Pavel Pavlovich side, thus wanting all the horse trading to conclude in his disfavor before the votes are cast, thus reducing the chance of last minute surprise by eliminating the weaker candidates.
He married well. His daughter Olivia was on £25k pa pocket money in 1982, at the age of 18. She died in 1986, heroin and general hedonism, in the aftermath of a post-Finals party. The death occurred in the rooms of Gottfried von Bismarck, possibly even more debauched - he was a member of the Piers Gaveston. Given the POD, she might have to find somewhere else to expire.
IOTL Bron was rusticated after failing his First Year PPE exams. He never returned to resit. His "diary" in Private Eye was one of the funniest things I've ever read.
Such as Our Thing? Of course, no WW2 to assist Luciano & Co. in this TL.
Stay tuned!
Ah, stay tuned!
Some things shall be revealed in the next chapter.
Stay tuned.
Well, since as you suggested we took care of a certain Bismarck, some fates thankfully can be spared. There are naturally German princelings all over the place (Princess Anne is about to marry one), a few accidents and horrors can be avoided.
I probably was a bit loose with my use of the word "alumni," but let's just say he was there long enough to form some connections, and Norman is if nothing very good at using connections. I tried to be careful about looking at certain individuals and figuring out what part the big events I have avoided (the Great War, WWII) played in their live and how much it was their "character."
United States got into the serious world-politics very late ITTL. Without the Great War to make people curious or disgusted with the thing, most American politicians were happy to avoid the strange world. But nations opposed to the British Empire were quite aggressive in courting the Americans to enter the stage and help them counter-balance the mightiest empire on Earth. The Russians were at first hesitant, thinking they could block the British "where it mattered," and the British were concerned about the Russian might (as in OTL, with some wildly inaccurate in hindsight reports on the might of the Russians in the 1910s), but the French took the lead in wanting Americans to get into Europe, encouraging them to pick up the slack where the French money and prestige was not enough. The plight of the Sicilians, who established a republic and representative democracy proved an easy rallying point for American politicians. After all, here was something easily explained and paralleled back home - the monarchy overthrown and responsible government establishment. The largely moribund State Department in US was quick to offer formal recognition of the Sicilian Republic and politicians had easy talking points. That the Sicilian Republic had some significant issues, due to corruption and This Thing of Ours having more clout in the countryside than anything the Sicilian government did was brushed aside.
The Sicilian Republic was one of the first big forays into the European theater of the United States, and some US politicos found they rather liked the taste of it. Here was a chance to play liberator. Here were fawning French diplomats telling them how good it was to see them get involved. And the notion of some obscure American politician getting off a plane in Palermo to cheering throngs waving flags had a lot of appeal as well. Sicily and US have a special relationship. They are the effective US toehold in Europe. Over the years, the French opinion on US presence there has shifted, the French do not want to substitute British domination for American. But the Russians are largely pleased the Americans are there, because it gives them one more ally to utilize in the region. Naturally, the Austrian response is gritted teeth and hard-stares. Austria still hangs on to portions of its Italian holdings and the notion of a fully formed republic in Italy, supported by US is not a pleasant thought. US also secured/guaranteed Sicilian independence from the half-assed assembled United Provinces of Italy, which are much more Federal in nature than modern Italy in OTL, with dual currencies and confused structures. Sicilians for their part are grateful for American support and dollars, and since a generation of US diplomats learned they have no clue how to handle Italian politics, US largely leaves Sicily alone, with only a few requests here and there to try to keep corruption to at least something manageable and keep things out of the international papers. For their part, the Sicilian government loves the arrangement. A benign distant patron is a blessing.
Chapter XXII
Chapter XXII
The Gathering was to take place in the Grand Ballroom in the Peterhof palace complex. A long table was setup with 44 seats, and name cards arranging the men to be seated in seniority from the right side, working clockwise and looping around, so that the youngest of the lot would find himself seated opposite the oldest. There were no ballots, for the poll would be taken verbally and in the open, thought there were notepads provided with pens and pencils, and some spotlessly clean blackboards.
The 44 Romanov princes gathered in the ante-chamber, gossiping and sizing up each other no one quite willing to be the first to enter inside, until Yuri Kirillovich loudly cleared his throat and spoke up:
"Mikhail Nikolaevich, if you please?"
The 83-year-old Romanov prince nodded and went inside, followed by others, in order of seniority, sans servants. The Romanovs took their seats, and heads once more turned to Mikhail Nikolaevich.
"Ioann Gavrilovich, would you mind keeping score," asked Mikhail Nikolaevich of the 33-year-old son of Gavril Ioannovich seated in front of him. The youngest eligible Romanov present blinked, and looked to his father, who gave an approving nod. None objected.
Mikhail Nikolaevich stood, grabbing the table to support himself.
"I nominate Gavril Ioannovich to be Regent and Guardian."
Pens scratched paper, and the oldest man present sat down, breaking a sweat.
Kirill Konstantinovich did not feel like standing, but given Mikhail Nikolaevich had, felt he now needed to do as well. He stood with the aid of a cane, swaying a little, and coughed into his first.
"I nominate Pavel Pavlovich to be Regent and Guardian."
He sat down and Yaroslav Mikhailovich did not bother to stand.
"I vote for Pavel Pavlovich to be Regent and Guardian."
Vasili Alexandrovich did bother to stand, cleared his throat, twice, and somewhere down the table came a groan, and sure enough Vasili Alexandrovich did not merely cast his vote for Gavril Ioannovich for Regent, but felt the need to explain how he came to such a decision, remarkably using language not all that different from the xenophobic, chauvinist, Jew-baiting tripe offered up by Avian Mikhailovich. He wound up by feeling he had no choice but to nominate himself as Guardian as well and sat down.
Eyes turned to Alexander Alexandrovich, who did not wish to stand and merely said, "Gavril Ioannovich for Regent, and my good brother Vasili for Guardian," to a shocked into silence table.
Necktariy Sergeyvich favored him with a glance worthy of Caesar's upon seeing Brutus with a knife. Then he stood to full height and thrust out his chin.
"I nominate Katerina Borisovna for Regent and Guardian," he declared, and sat to murmurs.
Old Rotty, Rotislav Nikolaevich, rose to his height as well, and spoke at length, echoing the sour notes of Vasili Alexandrovich, but making them even nastier, and concluded by voting for Pavel Pavlovich.
Pavel Pavlovich squirmed. Made as if to rise, but thought better of it and merely said, "Pass."
"We shall return to Pavel Pavlovich after Ioann Gavrilovich has spoken," said Mikhail Nikolaevich, to cut off the murmurs and all nodded along, and turned to look to Roman Georgovich.
Roman Georgovich chewed on the inside of his cheek, sighed, stood and adjusted his tunic.
"I vote for Pavel Pavlovich for Regent and Guardian."
There was a wave of mutters once more, and Gavril Ioannovich popped up quick to scotch them. He loudly voted for himself as Regent, and nominated Mikhail Nikolaevich as Guardian. Here, Vasili Alexandrovich was heard to choke on his own fury and made as if to speak, but was held back by decorum and the staying hand of his brother Alexander. He took to rocking back and forth instead.
Gavril's brother Konstantin Ioannovich stood up next and voted for Gavril Ioannovich for Regent and Mikhail Nikolaevich for Guardian. Then Konstantin Alexandrovich did the same as well.
Petr Alexandrovich, a Nikolaite, got up and made sure to vote for Pavel Pavlovich loudly.
Then Konstantin Olegovich spoke louder still to nominate his cousin Gavril Ioannovich for Regent and Mikhail Nikolaevich for Guardian.
Mikhail Feodorovich was up, and he made a grand show out of standing up and pushing back his chair to give himself room to move about and gesticulate.
"Dearest uncles, cousins and nephews, before I cast my vote, I wish to ask some of you a few questions, since it is the first time I have had the pleasure to see all of you in one place. Firstly, I would ask Rotislav Nikolaevich, if he had recently a disagreeable experience where some man claiming to be from the Special Corps of Gendarmes came and tried to blackmail him?"
Roman Georgovich reacted sharply to this, as did his son Anton Romanovich, before "Old Rotty" Rotislav Nikolaevich finished mulling over the question and gave the barest hint of a nod.
"Good cousin Rotislav, whom did this blackmailer ask you to vote for?"
The room went still, and Rotislav weighed Mikhail Feodorovich in the balance, and found him wanting. But he judged his answer would do nothing to hurt the candidacy of Pavel Pavlovich, and so he said, "Avian Mikhailovich."
There was an explosion of mutters and heads shaken in disgust.
"And what did you think of the blackmailer?"
"I found him detestable of course."
"Of course. As would all of us, if confronted with such a creature. And while I am afraid I do not hold the Special Corps of Gendarmes in high regard, I find it decidedly odd someone from their organization would be as stupid as to approach you, good cousin, given your reputation for not tolerating knaves."
"How you mean?"
"I mean, good cousin, should a man come to me and try to blackmail me with some of my many, many, many misdeeds from a life lived well, and told me they would hide it all if only I would vote for, oh say, Katerina Borisovna, the first thing I would do, after telling the man to leave before I have him whipped and make it my life's ambition to not vote for Katerina Borisovna."
At this Necktariy Sergeyvich and Nikita Nectareyevich both reacted, but Mikhail Feodorovich raised his hands, palms up and fingers fanned in a plea for time to further explain himself and both men nodded.
"Would it be true or untrue to say, good cousin Rotislav, that having been so crudely accosted by such a small creature as your blackmailer, your thoughts turned to voting for Pavel Pavlovich?"
At this Pavel Pavlovich blanched and his mouth gashed open in anger.
"I made up my mind to vote for Pavel Pavlovich well ahead of the incident," declared Rotislav Nikolaevich, striking such a false note, none in the room believed him.
"Pavel Pavlovich, I understand your anger, and I apologize for using you as an example, but I am trying to ascertain the motives of some small creatures doing mischief. Because I too faced a blackmailer, though mine was much more pleasant and female - a courtesan, who came to me with a note, which said all of my sins shall come to light unless I cast my vote for Katerina Borisovna."
This was too much for Nikita Nectareyevich to take and there came forth a vulgarity from his mouth. His father made a censuring remark, but Mikhail Feodorovich waved off both men with a smile.
"Nikita, I do not think for a moment the Grand Princess would stoop to such a vile thing, or her noble supporters would engage in such a pathetic stratagem. But once I was done being disgusted, I became curious. Surely anyone who knows me, and my views on things, would know blackmailing me would have the opposite effect than the one desired. Unless, that was the entire point and I had missed what they had desired. And so this morning, lo and behold, I find a newspaper story about a creature named Avian Mikhailovich, who claims to be a Romanov, and who holds some rather... strident views, and he all but told what few supporters he can claim to have to go on and support Katerina Borisovna. Would that not too have the opposite effect?"
The mutters took on an ugly tone and harsh words were uttered. It was Necktariy Sergeyvich who now said something quite hot and unprintable, but no one censured him. In fact, most agreed. Then Roman Georgovich awkwardly raised the index and middle fingers of his right hand, pressed together.
"Roman Georgovich, have you had a similar experience?"
"Not me, but my son. Someone claiming to be from the Special Section came to him with disgusting information about a member of the House now deceased and gave him compromising information on the departed prince, in exchange for asking me and him to vote for Gavril Ioannovich."
Gavril Ioannovich grew hot. He raised his fingers.
"In a moment, dear cousin. In a moment. But it sure seems to me we have some creatures small and vile trying to influence our selection. And these scoundrels, in addition to feeling themselves to be so bold as to approach us, Romanovs, to blackmail, also felt free to masquerade as the Special Corps of Gendarmes and the Special Section."
"Treason!" bellowed out Gavril Ioannovich, being unable to contain himself any longer.
And most present agreed.
"Aye, cousin. But it got me thinking. Who the Devil would dare? I tried to find my blackmailing courtesan, but she since has gone missing. So I asked my under-footman, who was the one who arranged such things for me. But he tried to be silent, so I asked him more sharply, and the miserable man broke down in tears to me and said he is Okhrana's man!"
There were shouts all along the table, and calls for ministers sacked, jailed and officials hanged.
"It gets worse. It would appear he had been Okhrana's creature all these years, while working for me, and had told them of my predilections and had even filed detailed reports about the same!"
There was a tumult, and it took a while for the princes to settle.
"Now I would love nothing more than to drag in the leaders of Okhrana and ask them what the Devil they are playing at, but we must not let animals, no matter how cunning, interrupt great affairs of men. So I say we continue this process and select the Regent and Guardian, and I only ask that once we are done here, whomever is made Regent initiates proceedings to get to the heart of the matter!"
This was approved by near universal acclimation.
"And with all that said, I shall vote precisely for the two people whom Okhrana does not wish to be selected. I vote for Gavril Ioannovich as Regent and Katerina Borisovna as Guardian!"
There came near applause from all but the partisans of Pavel Pavlovich and Mikhail Nikolaevich.
"I beg your collective pardon, for taking up all this time," said Mikhail Feodorovich, "Cousin Gavril, do you still wish to speak?"
"No, no, good cousin, you have said all I would have wanted to say, only better. But I must say this, whomever we select as Regent must not rest until Okhrana is completely dismantled!"
This was accompanied by cheers from nearly all assembled, including partisans of Pavel Pavlovich.
Mikhail Feodorovich grandly gestured to the next man to speak.
Nikolai Alexandrovich was a Nikolaite, and he as all members of his clan, had pledged himself to Pavel Pavlovich, but he felt mean and low about doing such a thing, even after his older brother had voted for the man, so he, without rising, said:
"I vote for Gavril Ioannovich as Regent and Katerina Borisovna as Guardian."
Old Rotty looked as if he had swallowed poison and went to stand, but Pavel Pavlovich put his boot next to his and caught his eyes. Old Rotty disregarded both signals and rose still and launched into an ill-advised harangue of his nephew before all the Romanovs assembled. By the time the man sat, shaking with anger, none wished to speak and the room was silent.
"Sergei Alexievich," said Mikhail Nikolaevich, to move on.
Prince Sergei Alexievich, the unofficially-official point man for the not-at-all-a-campaign of Mikhail Nikolaevich to be made Guardian, glanced to Mikhail Mikhailovich, who was doing math. It was close, and the speech had complicated things. At best, by encouraging his supporters to vote for his father to be made Guardian he could send things into the second round and see what comes. At worst, he could split the vote and make Pavel Pavlovich Guardian (at least). Part of him wanted to chance it, but then he found his father's sad eyes and exhaled softly. Mikhail Mikhailovich told his man to go with the tide.
"Gavril Ioannovich as Regent and Katerina Borisovna as Guardian," said Sergei Alexievich.
Elisei Tihomirovich was up next. He was blissfully unaware the blackmail attempt of which Roman Georgovich spoke involved his good father, for Roman all but physically assaulted his son when he told him of the compromising materials and so Anton never had a chance to speak with Elisei on the matter. Elisei had grave reservations about Gavril Ioannovich, but after hearing such a speech and seeing the grim faces of his relatives, he too cast his vote for Gavril Ioannovich and Katerina Borisovna.
As did Nicholas Alexievich. And Mikhail Mikhailovich loudly voted for Gavril Ioannovich as Regent and Katerina Borisovna as Guardian.
Nikita Yaroslavich was made of stern stuff. His father had made a deal with Pavel Pavlovich and such a deal he was now going to honor, come fire, water or copper tubes. He voted for Pavel Pavlovich.
Alexander Sergeyvich gladly voted for Gavril Ioannovich for Regent and Katerina Borisovna for Guardian. Alexander Mikhailovich cast his vote the same. As did a chastened and livid Anton Romanovich.
Nikita Nikitch was up next. He was nephew to Vasili Alexandrovich, and a good nephew he wished to remain, despite all he had heard, so he cast his vote for Gavril Ioannovich as Regent and Uncle Vasya as Guardian. As did his brother Alexander Nikitich.
Konstantin Konstantinovich, husband to Princess Hailee and latent convert to the cause of Gavril Ioannovich, stood up and loudly proclaimed his (belated) loyalty to his branch by declaring for Gavril Ioannovich and Katerina Borisovna.
Oleg Kirillovich, son of Kirill Konstantinovich, who had made a deal with Pavel Pavlovich stood and voted as his father had, for Pavel Pavlovich, for both roles.
Vladimir Nikolaevich, a Nikolaite, and the oldest nephew of Old Rotty was going to vote for Pavel Pavlovich, but after Old Rotty's harangue such an act would be seen as bowing down to the old man.
"Gavril Ioannovich for Regent and Katerina Borisovna for Guardian," he said loudly, from his seat.
A hiss was heard from Old Rotty's seat, but this time the old man did not speak.
The next Nikolaite, Nicholas Sergeyvich, did vote for Pavel Pavlovich, also from his seat. Then came Old Rotty's son, Boris Rotislavich, who voted for Pavel Pavlovich as well. Buoyed by the show of strength, Vladimir Alexievich, a Nikolaite, too voted for Pavel Pavlovich. As did his brother Ilarion Alexeivich.
Sergei Yaroslavich did the same, staying true to the deal his father made with the man. As did his brother Tikhon Yarsolavich.
Nikita Neckatereyvich drew himself to full height and proudly and loudly voted for Gavril Ioannovich and Katerina Borisovna. As did Yuri Kirillovich, though not as loudly or proudly.
Vladimir Alexandrovich, son of Alexander Alexandrovich, looked to his father. The old man who had changed his vote from himself and Katerina Borisovna prior to Mikhail Feodorovich's grand speech, gave a signal for both his sons to go with the tide.
"Gavril Ioannovich for Regent and Katerina Borisovna for Guardian."
Sergey Konstantinovich voted the same, as did the grinning Alexander Vladimirovich, number 41.
Sergey Alexandrovich, the second son of Alexander Alexandrovich voted likewise, as did Vladimir Konstantinovich and lastly Ioann Gavrilovich voted the same, having already obtained a signal from his father for it, and then began to total up the votes. But he was stopped by Mikhail Nikolaevich.
"Pavel Pavlovich, you must now cast your vote."
Pavel Pavlovich stood. He never looked his age, until now. His shoulders stooped despite him trying to stand straight, and his gut looked to have gained ten pounds in the last quarter of an hour.
"Gavril Ioannovich for Regent and Katerina Borisovna for Guardian," he muttered and sat down.
"What is the count," asked Mikhail Nikolaevich.
"Gavril Ioannovich, 29 votes for Regent," said Ioann Gavrilovich. He meant to sound neutral, but he was grinning ear to ear. There was golf claps all about and hands shaken.
"I think we need not count up the rest of the votes for Regent," gently said Mikhail Nikolaevich, to spare the losers. "Please be so good as to give us the count for the Guardian instead."
"Gavril Ioannovich, one. Katerina Borisovna, 21. Pavel Pavlovich, 14. Mikhail Nikolaevich, four. Vasili Alexandrovich, four."
Some of Pavel Pavlovich's partisans looked at him archly. Had the man voted for himself as Regent and Guardian, he would have signaled a readiness to fight on to the second round. Instead, now pressure mounted to...
"I withdraw my candidacy for Guardian," said a grinning Gavril Ioannovich.
"As do I," said Mikhail Nikolaevich, peacefully.
"I withdraw as well," managed Vasili Alexandrovich, painfully, at his brother's urging.
Eyes turned to Pavel Pavlovich. He closed his eyes and spoke without opening them.
"I withdraw as well."
There were more golf claps and hand shaking. The whole beastly thing was done in one round.
In Odesa, at the Okhrana facility, a single gunshot rang through the third underground floor. A heavily armed and armored response squad quickly appeared on the scene, to find Collegiate-Councilor Zahar Alexandrovich Bataev in his office, alone.
***
The Gathering: First Round Votes:
The Gathering: First Round Votes:
| Name | Line | DOB | Vote - Regent | Vote - Guardian | |
1 | Mikhail Nikolaevich | Mikhailite | 1894 | Gavril Ioannovich | Gavril Ioannovich |
2 | Kirill Konstaninovich | Konstantinite | 1899 | Pavel Pavlovich | Pavel Pavlovich |
3 | Yaroslav Mikhailovich | Mikhailite | 1900 | Pavel Pavlovich | Pavel Pavlovich |
4 | Vasili Alexandrovich | Mikhailite | 1901 | Gavril Ioannovich | Vasili Alexandrovich |
5 | Alexander Alexandrovich | Mikhailite | 1902 | Gavril Ioannovich | Vasili Alexandrovich |
6 | Necktariy Sergeyvich | Mikhailite | 1905 | Katerina Borisovna | Katerina Borisovna |
7 | Rostislav Nikolaevich | Nikolaite | 1908 | Pavel Pavlovich | Pavel Pavlovich |
| Pavel Pavlovich | Vladimirite | 1910 | pass | pass | |
9 | Roman Georgovich | Mikhailite | 1912 | Pavel Pavlovich | Pavel Pavlovich |
10 | Gavril Ioannovich | Konstantinite | 1916 | Gavril Ioannovich | Mikhail Nikolaevich |
11 | Konstantin Ioannovich | Konstantinite | 1917 | Gavril Ioannovich | Mikhail Nikolaevich |
12 | Konstantin Alexandrovich | Konstantinite | 1919 | Gavril Ioannovich | Mikhail Nikolaevich |
13 | Petr Alexandrovich | Nikolaite | 1922 | Pavel Pavlovich | Pavel Pavlovich |
14 | Konstantin Olegovich | Konstantinite | 1923 | Gavril Ioannovich | Mikhail Nikolaevich |
15 | Mikhail Feodorovich | Mikhailite | 1924 | Gavril Ioannovich | Katerina Borisovna |
16 | Nikolai Alexandrovich | Nikolaite | 1924 | Gavril Ioannovich | Katerina Borisovna |
17 | Sergei Alexievich | Mikhailite | 1931 | Gavril Ioannovich | Katerina Borisovna |
18 | Elisei Tihomirovich | Mikhailite | 1932 | Gavril Ioannovich | Katerina Borisovna |
19 | Nicholas Alexievich | Konstantinite | 1933 | Gavril Ioannovich | Katerina Borisovna |
20 | Mikhail Mikhailovich | Mikhailite | 1933 | Gavril Ioannovich | Katerina Borisovna |
21 | Nikita Yaroslavich | Mikhailite | 1933 | Pavel Pavlovich | Pavel Pavlovich |
22 | Alexander Sergeyvich | Mikhailite | 1933 | Gavril Ioannovich | Katerina Borisovna |
23 | Alexander Mikhailovich | Mikhailite | 1933 | Gavril Ioannovich | Katerina Borisovna |
24 | Anton Romanovich | Mikhailite | 1933 | Gavril Ioannovich | Katerina Borisovna |
25 | Nikita Nikitch | Mikhailite | 1933 | Gavril Ioannovich | Vasili Alexandrovich |
26 | Alexander Nikitch | Mikhailite | 1933 | Gavril Ioannovich | Vasili Alexandrovich |
27 | Konstantin Konstaninovich | Konstantinite | 1933 | Gavril Ioannovich | Katerina Borisovna |
28 | Oleg Kirillovich | Konstantinite | 1934 | Pavel Pavlovich | Pavel Pavlovich |
29 | Vladimir Nikolaevich | Nikolaite | 1934 | Gavril Ioannovich | Katerina Borisovna |
30 | Nicholas Sergeyvich | Nikolaite | 1934 | Pavel Pavlovich | Pavel Pavlovich |
31 | Boris Rotislavovich | Nikolaite | 1934 | Pavel Pavlovich | Pavel Pavlovich |
32 | Nicholas Alexievich | Nikolaite | 1934 | Pavel Pavlovich | Pavel Pavlovich |
33 | Vladimir Alexievich | Nikolaite | 1934 | Pavel Pavlovich | Pavel Pavlovich |
34 | Ilarion Alexievich | Nikolaite | 1934 | Pavel Pavlovich | Pavel Pavlovich |
35 | Sergey Yaroslavich | Mikhailite | 1934 | Pavel Pavlovich | Pavel Pavlovich |
36 | Tikhon Yaroslavich | Mikhailite | 1934 | Pavel Pavlovich | Pavel Pavlovich |
37 | Nikita Necktareyevich | Mikhailite | 1934 | Gavril Ioannovich | Katerina Borisovna |
38 | Yuri Kirillovich | Mikhailite | 1934 | Gavril Ioannovich | Katerina Borisovna |
39 | Vladimir Alexandrovich | Mikhailite | 1938 | Gavril Ioannovich | Katerina Borisovna |
40 | Sergey Konstaninovich | Konstantinite | 1939 | Gavril Ioannovich | Katerina Borisovna |
41 | Alexander Vladimirovich | Mikhailite | 1939 | Gavril Ioannovich | Katerina Borisovna |
42 | Sergey Alexandrovich | Mikhailite | 1939 | Gavril Ioannovich | Katerina Borisovna |
43 | Vladimir Konstaninovich | Konstantinite | 1941 | Gavril Ioannovich | Katerina Borisovna |
44 | Ioann Gavrilovich | Konstantinite | 1944 | Gavril Ioannovich | Katerina Borisovna |
8 | Pavel Pavlovich | Vladimirite | 1910 | Gavril Ioannovich | Katerina Borisovna |
So the (relative) liberals have it. The one thing to be discovered, though possibly not in this story but perhaps in a future story, is what sort of person the young Tsar is. Just because people expect that his Guardian will be able to shape his views didn't mean that Katerina will be able to shape them and any attempt might trigger an equal and opposite reaction. Or perhaps she'll be pushing at an open door, who knows.
This is a really novel take on US diplomacy that seems quite realistic, IMO
Have to admit since her introduction I have been rooting for Katerina Borisovna so I am very happy to see her win as guardian.
Looking forward to the remaining revelations.
Will add it did seem the Okhrana was getting a bit too big for its breaches with the heavy handed nature of its intervention in the regency and guardian 'election'.
Finally with that description of the dynamic of US foreign policy ITTL my view would be that the British would prefer Russia be aligned to France than the US so I think I stand by my position of the British not wanting to actually discredit Katerina.
Looking forward to the remaining revelations.
Will add it did seem the Okhrana was getting a bit too big for its breaches with the heavy handed nature of its intervention in the regency and guardian 'election'.
Finally with that description of the dynamic of US foreign policy ITTL my view would be that the British would prefer Russia be aligned to France than the US so I think I stand by my position of the British not wanting to actually discredit Katerina.
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Something tells me there are going to be some accidents, retirements due to health issues, deaths due to illness and people reassigned to remote bases and offices.
If Pavel finds out the horse that trampled the Tsar was that of someone linked to the winning ticket i think he may drink himself into a premature grave
When your electorate is just 44 royal princes, things can get weird and awkward in a hurry.
Ah, that will not be covered in this story. But an excellent idea for a future notion. The Tsarevich will come of age in a mere 3 to 4 year once he is 16, and then he shall become the Tsar, and we shall see how it all came out.
Some reckonings are coming.
Thank you. As always in writing AH, there is a question based on the POD, of what changed, what should have changed, what would not have changed and how different it all becomes. For my stories, I do a mix of plausible and story-driven. I forget who said it, but deep down you can make the case all AH stories are to some extent implausible. And I realize the fact Harold, Margaret, Enoch and company all exist despite big changes is already knocking on the door of implausibility. But I wanted to have fun. My litmus test is: do I have Richard Nixon selling used steamcars? If not, then I can proceed.
Glad you're enjoying it.
There are a few left. Some loose ends. Some consequences. There are two additional chapters left, with some charts as well: election, newspaper coverage, select election-day BBC declarations, a by-election due to a resignation, and some quick bios (similar to what I posted in the previous entries of the timeline).
Part of Okhrana's problem is that they have never had a really big test. Their last truly big test were the Troubles of '12, which they flunked. Since then, they have clawed back powers, and used the penal system to their advantage. But this is really their first attempt at playing big politics, and they really have no experience in it. Nicholas II allowed them to survive. Boris II let them thrive in the shadows. And Tsar Nicholas III used them to bludgeon his many, many enemies. When Queen Alexandra became Regent and Tsar Alexander IV came of age, it was the first time in multiple generations they have had to actually face someone who was not blindly supportive of all their policies. So here is their big opportunity to play kingmaker and turns out they are a bit crap at it, and given they live in a world of false-flags, honey-traps and assassinations, the fact they did not think the British would be bold enough to start interfering in internal Russian politics shows a lack of imagination. They were never really tested in the Big Game. For the last 40 years, they have been doing whatever they want under the aegis of the Ministry of Justice, and this is really their first big chance to play on the grand stage.
Correct. The Bureau false-flagged the approach to get Avian to discredit Katerina, so that Mikhail Feodorovich would have more ammunition. Okhrana was training all of its guns on Gavril Ioannovich, and so the triggered backlash would help Gavril and Gavril alone, allowing for some openings on the Guardian front. The Bureau read the room and decided they preferred Katerina Borisovna as Guardian. So if there is going to be a backlash, then Katerina needs to be bad-mouthed the same way Gavril was being bad-mouthed prior to it, so that the backlash would propel both Gavril and Katerina, rather than just Gavril alone.
Correct. Okhrana is given a lot of power, and people look the other way, but the trade-off is that results are expected. When you're in Okhrana and you have the big stars on your shoulder straps or lapels, carelessness is not tolerated.
Correct. Not every purge will be show in the timeline, but there will be consequences.
Correct. The Bureau directed the backlash, and gave the ammunition to Mikhail Feodorovich.
Correct.
Stay tuned.
I think this is something that has lots of potential because he could be an absolutely fascinating person between having theoretically near absolute power but practically severely limited ability to act, being an orphan who is the focus of everyone's attention, having a Guardian who wants to shape him into their idea of the ideal ruler and who may or may not have any interest/ability to give him the sort of emotional support that you are going to need. Lots to explore.