Date: Thu, 10 Nov 2011 09:05:13 -0800 From: B.E. Kelley Subject: A Connecticut Yankee in the Tsar's Court Chapter II This story is a work of FICTION. The events described are my own invention. Any similarities to actual events or persons are strictly coincidental. The author retains the copyright, and any other rights, to this original story. You may not publish it or any part of it without my explicit authorization. This story contains depictions of consensual sexual acts between teenage males. It is intended for mature audiences only. If you find this type of material offensive or if you are under the legal age to read said material; please proceed no further. This story is a sequel to a story I wrote called "Every Cloud has a Silver Lining, you can find it posted in the high school section. If you haven't read it, you might not like this story, or understand it. For all those of you who enjoyed Silver Lining and asked what happens next, this story is for you. I hope you enjoy it, as always, comments are welcome: hailcaesar2011@hotmail.com A Connecticut Yankee in the Tsar's Court, Chapter 2 The day before Thanksgiving, Jamie and I were lying on my bed making out. He'd come over after school the previous day and spent the night so we'd be able to spend the day together. He'll go home tonight to spend the holiday with his family and I'll be driving out to Hartford tomorrow to see him, after I have dinner with my family. Jamie had just unzipped my pants when my cell phone started ringing. "Don't answer it," said Jamie, as he nibbled my ear and felt me up. "I have to, it might be my mom," I stated. I grabbed my phone and saw a number I didn't recognize. "Hello?" I answered. "Hello, may I speak with Nicholas Sutherland please?" asked the caller. "This is he," I replied. "Nicholas this is Dr. Prescott, from Yale," he stated. "Oh, hello Dr. Prescott, what can I do for you?" I asked. "I've got a letter from the Mishkin institute, regarding your DNA test, and I'd like to go over it with you if you have time," said Dr. Prescott. "That's great. I'll come by your office right now," I said, excitedly. "Actually, I'm working from home today, but you're welcome to come by," he replied. I wrote down the address, zipped up my pants, grabbed Jamie by the wrist and bolted for the door. I explained where we were going and Jamie looked as excited as I did. "What do you think the results are?" Jamie asked, as I drove. "I don't know," I replied. "Do you think you're a Romanov?" asked Jamie. "I don't know," I replied again. "Well what do you think?" he asked. "I don't know, I don't know, I don't know," I spluttered, "I'm too excited to think straight right now." We pulled up to Dr. Prescott's home. I parked on the street out front and then headed for the door. I rang the bell and Dr. Prescott invited us into his study. "As I told you on the phone, I've got the results of your test," said Dr. Prescott. "Ok, what does it say?" I asked, with bated breath. "Well, as you might have suspected," began Dr. Prescott, "there are a number of different types of DNA testing options. The institute chose to do a Y-DNA test on your sample." "Y-DNA test?" I asked. "It's a test that uses the Y chromosome which is found only in men," Dr. Prescott explained. "The reason this is advantageous, especially in your case, is because Y-DNA is passed, intact, from father to son through the generations. Every man on Earth carries the same Y-DNA signature as his father, grandfather, great grandfather etc..." "Ok, that makes sense, so what does my Y-DNA say about me?" I asked. "The results from the Mishkin Institute were checked and double checked," Dr. Prescott began. "I can't tell you who your father is, but I can tell you that your Y-DNA signature is the same as Nicholas Romanov." "Holy shit!" I breathed. "So wait! What does this mean exactly?" asked Jamie. "It means that your friend here, shares a common ancestor with the Tsar, possibly Alexander II, who has a number of decedents in this country," said Dr. Prescott. "Nicky, this should greatly improve your search for your biological parents," said Dr. Prescott. "Now that you now know that you are related to a specific family, it gives you a much smaller universe to search. When you do find your father, your DNA results will confirm your relationship beyond any reasonable doubt." "Does this mean that Nicky, is like, the king of Russia?" asked Jamie. "Hardly," Dr. Prescott chuckled. "Since the Tsar and all of his issue were murdered, Nicky isn't a direct descendent of the Emperor, so it's not likely that he'd be in the line of succession. However, that is royal blood in his veins; he might be a prince, grand duke, count or something." "Prince Nicky," Jamie laughed, "that's priceless." "You're sure about all this?" I asked. "Absolutely," said Dr. Prescott, "the results were checked and double checked. There is no question of their validity." "Your highness," Jamie said, with a laugh. "Now don't get to carried away boys," said Dr. Prescott. "As I told you before, there are plenty of counts, duke's and minor princes in the Romanov Family. You might be able to use one of those titles, but I wouldn't expect it to do more than help you out with the ladies." "Yeah, Nicky needs all the help with the ladies he can get," Jamie laughed, as he put his hand on my thigh." "Oh," remarked Dr. Prescott as the nature of my relationship with Jamie became clear. "Well perhaps with the boys then." I thanked Dr. Prescott for his help, but I was kind of in shock. I'd never expected this DNA test to prove anything other than I wasn't a Romanov, but now that I knew differently, I didn't know what to think. I made Jamie drive home, because I was too deep in thought to risk the traffic. For his part, Jamie was all smiles. This had all been his idea and thanks to him, I now had the biggest clue to my past I'd ever had. When we got home we went up to my room, but I was still feeling shell shocked. I didn't realize what Jamie was doing until I felt a draft. I looked down and noticed he'd unbuttoned my shirt and had just pulled down my pants. "What, may I ask, are you doing?" I asked, as I stood there in my underwear and open shirt. "I've never made love to royalty before," Jamie smiled, as he leaned in and nipped at my nipple. "Ouch," I yelped and then started laughing. Jamie pushed me down on the bed and then jumped on me playfully. We kissed briefly, but as Jamie put it, "we don't have a lot of time before your folks get home and I want to get to the good part." He moved down my body, yanked my briefs down and started to suck me. I had to enjoy the feel of his mouth quickly, because he pulled off just as I was really getting into it. Jamie pushed my knees up to my chest and started rubbing his cock against my hole. He really was in a hurry, because I still had my shirt on and my underpants were tight around my thighs. "Can't I at least take these off?" I laughed, as I gestured to my briefs. "No time," grunted Jamie, as he lifted my legs and pushed his cock into me. Jamie was balls deep in me in no time. He leaned down and kissed me as I grew accustomed to the invasion, and then he began to fuck me. Our bodies rocked back and forth together as he drove his cock deeper and deeper. Most of the time we make love, sometimes the passion is so intense that to say we did anything other than fuck each other would be misleading. It was a hard, hot and sweaty fuck and we were both exhausted when Jamie fired his load into me. "That was awesome, your highness," Jamie laughed. "I still can't believe this," I laughed. "It was such a shot in the dark." "What can I say? Sometimes I'm just brilliant," Jamie smiled. "Are you talking about the idea for the DNA test or the ride you just gave me?" I laughed. "I think both worked out nicely, if I do say so myself," said Jamie. We didn't have long to enjoy the afterglow. As my parents are both professors, they were out of school for the day too and we only had the house to ourselves because they had some last minute errands to run. Before Jamie and I fell asleep, we heard my mom's car horn beckoning us to the garage to help carry in groceries. The sound sent Jamie scrambling for his underwear, while I simply pulled mine up. I guess there are some advantages when you're lover is in such a hurry. We met my parents down stairs and helped them bring in the groceries. Mom was eager to put things away, but I insisted that she stop so I could tell her and Dad my astonishing news. Once we were all seated at the breakfast table, I explained how Jamie had come up with the idea to talk to Dr. Prescott, how he'd taken swabs from my cheeks and sent the DNA off to be tested, so now I'd learned that I was a certified blue blood. "You're sure about this?" Dad asked. "Here's the sheet with the test results," I explained, "Dr. Prescott said that I could take that to any court in the country and get a ruling on my paternity, when those results are compared against my biological father." "This is unbelievable," Mom exclaimed. "I used to call you my little prince when you were a baby, but I had no idea." "Nicky, do you realize what this means for our investigation into your paternity?" asked Dad. "Dr. Prescott said it should make it easier to find my birth father," I answered. "A lot easier," said Dad. "There can't be that many Romanov's in the area, so he shouldn't be that hard to track down. I've got to call Cliff Webber." Dad called Mr. Webber and explained the situation to him. Mr. Webber informed us that this would add a new angle to the investigation and he had some work to do, but that he'd be in touch after the Thanksgiving holiday. My parents were as stunned as I was when Dr. Prescott had first revealed the results to me. Nathan seemed to adjust to the news pretty easily. He walked in just as Mom was letting me out of her bear hug. When Nathan asked what was going on, I quickly filled him in, and then he stood silently for a moment. "Well, you're still a twerp to me, so don't expect me to start kissing your royal ass," said Nathan, with a smirk. "Gee, thanks big brother," I groaned. "Hey at least now when I call you a drama queen, the queen part will be right for two reasons," Nathan quipped. "Two reasons?" I asked. "Sure, now you're royalty, not just a cock sucker," Nathan laughed. Jamie turned as red as a fire engine and my mom's mouth dropped open, she looked like a fish out of water, struggling for breath. I can't believe Nathan said that in front of her, but I knew he was teasing. "Oh, you are so dead," I shouted, as I grabbed Nathan and tried to put him in a headlock. Unfortunately, he's still bigger than me and was able to turn my attack against me. The funny part was rather than try to pin me to the ground, he hugged me. "Seriously though, I'm happy for you twerp. I hope this helps you find what you're looking for," said Nathan. "Thanks Nate, that means a lot coming from you," I choked out. He caught me off guard with his emotional reaction and I started to get teary eyed. I left my family in the kitchen, as Mom scolded Nathan for his foul language and Jamie and I said our goodbyes. The initial shock of my discovery is starting to subside and I'm starting to get excited about the new found prospects for finding my biological parents. I guess I really do have something to be thankful for this year. I woke up with a start the next morning. Before he'd left, Jamie had reprogrammed my alarm clock. Instead of the usual annoying monotone, I woke up to music, loud, obnoxiously loud, music. It took me a moment to figure out what they were singing, then I started laughing. Jamie told me later that the song was called "The Coronation Anthem." That explained why I woke up to a thundering chorus of: GOD SAVE THE KING, LONG LIVE THE KING, GOD SAVE THE KING. MAY THE KING LIVE, MAY THE KING LIVE, FOREVER, AMEN, AMEN, ALLELUIA, AMEN. I had to give Jamie credit, this was a pretty good payback for the time I programmed his alarm clock to play "It's Raining Men," while his Aunt was using his room during a visit. Thanksgiving dinner was quite lively. It was our turn to host and we had a large crowd. My grandparents were there, along with several aunts, uncles and cousins. Everyone had questions about my discovery, but there really wasn't all that much to tell. I knew that I was related to the Romanov's on my father's side, but there was still much to be discovered. Finally everyone seemed to lose interest and the conversation turned to football, at which point, I lost interest. I said my goodbye's to everyone, then grabbed by bag and headed for Jamie's house, where I'd be spending the night. Jamie greeted me at the door with a hug and a kiss. I said a quick hello to his family and then he led me down to the basement, where some of his friends had gathered to watch a movie. "Alright, peasants, on your feet," said Jamie, "His Royal Highness is here." That got on my nerves. Despite dating Jamie for the last three years, I'm still pretty shy. I'd met Sam, Alec and Amy, before, but I didn't go to school with them and could count the times I'd been with them on my hand. "Is it true Nicky, are you really a prince," asked Amy, "or is Jamie just full of it?" "Well I think Jamie is getting a little ahead of himself," I explained. "I might be a prince, but I could be a count or a grand duke or something. The expert said I won't really know until I find out who my dad is." "But you at least get some kind of title, right?" asked Sam. "Probably," I replied. "My great, great, great grandfather was probably an Emperor, and it looks like that's how I'm connected to the Romanov's, but again, who knows until I meet my dad." "That's awesome though," said Alec. "If I were a prince or grand duke or whatever, I'd be knee deep in chicks." "Nicky isn't interested in being knee deep in chicks," said Jamie, as he held my hand. "Ok then," Alec shot back. "He can be balls deep in you." "He didn't need to be royalty for that," Jamie quipped. "Awww, look, he's blushing," said Amy, as she chuckled at me. "Ok, that's enough," said Jamie. "I've been trying to convince Nicky that you guys aren't douche bags and you're ruining my argument." Jamie and his friends teased each other for a few more minutes, but then we settled down to watch the movie. I was glad to have the spotlight lifted off of me. I explained to Jamie later, that I didn't want to make a big deal about this, especially until I had a title worth talking about. Unfortunately, Alec was also spending the night at Jamie's. Don't get me wrong, he's a nice guy and I enjoy his company, but his presence restricted the "special attention," I could give my lover boy. Instead, we snuggled and slept in. After the holiday weekend, Mr. Webber began researching Romanov descendents throughout New England. It was slow going and took a lot of time to compile information on men that might have been in the Connecticut area, when I was born, but hey it's a start. Despite all of Mr. Webber's hard work, the next big break in my case came from a strange call I received the week after Thanksgiving. I was sitting at my desk, working on homework, when the phone rang. "Hello," I answered. "Good afternoon, may I speak with Mr. Nicholas Sutherland please?" asked the voice. "This is Nicholas, whose calling?" I replied. "Nicholas, my name is Andrew Kedrov," he began. "I'm the Executive Director of the Romanov Foundation in New York City." "Romanov Foundation, what's that?" I asked. "We're an organization composed of Romanov descendents, living in the United States," Mr. Kedrov explained. "Our mission is to preserve the Romanov Dynasty and educate the public about the history of the Imperial Family." "That sounds cool," I replied, "but how did you get my name and number?" "Our organization has a long standing relationship with the Mishkin Institute of St. Petersburg," he explained. "I understand you submitted a DNA sample, which was compared to Nicholas II and discovered that you were related." "Yes, that's true," I replied, "but I didn't know they shared that information with anyone else." "As I stated, the foundation has a long standing relationship with the institute and they felt compelled to share the results of your test with us," said Mr. Kedrov. "Nicholas, the reason for my call is to invite you to our executive committee meeting, next Thursday in New York," he continued. "Why would you want me to attend your meeting?" I asked, curiously. "Frankly Nicholas, many of our members are your relatives," he explained. "Our board members would like to meet you, answer any questions you might have and help you gain an understanding of what it means to be a member of the Imperial Family." "I'm sorry, Mr. Kedrov, I didn't mean to sound rude," I apologized. "I just got the results of my test back last week and I'm still getting used to the idea." "That's quite understandable, Nicholas. May I ask what prompted you to submit your DNA to the Mishkin Institute?" he asked. "Well, I'm looking for my biological parents," I explained. "I'm a hemophilic and my friend came up with the idea after studying the Russian Revolution. I didn't expect anything to come of it but, well, you have the results of my test." "Indeed," Mr. Kedrov agreed. "Nicholas, given your situation, I do hope you will attend our meeting, I think our members could be quite useful in helping you locate your parents." "That would be fantastic, Mr. Kedrov. "You don't know what it would mean to me to find them," I gushed. "Well then I am glad I made the call, so can we expect you next week?" he asked. "Absolutely, I wouldn't miss it," I replied, happily. When my dad got home from the office, I told him about the call. He thought this would be a great opportunity, even if they couldn't help me find my biological parents. Like Mr. Kedrov had said, these people were my relatives and I could learn a great deal about my heritage from them. I was excited by the prospect; this all started with my desire to know where I came from and now this Romanov Foundation presented me with a prime opportunity to do just that. Dad agreed to drive me into Manhattan for the meeting, and I was glad for the offer. I didn't want to go alone and I was afraid I'd be too nervous to drive. Of course I called Jamie and told him everything. He was just as excited as I was and wished he could go with me. We talked about it a bit and as much as I would have liked to have had him there for moral support, we decided it might not be a good idea to show up with an entire entourage. Jamie made me promise that I'd call him the minute I got home, and tell him what happened. I spent the remainder of the week going through a wide range of emotions. I started with euphoria, these people could hold the answers to every question I've wanted to ask. Then I slipped into depression. What if they couldn't tell me anything? Maybe this foundation was nothing more than a Romanov version of the Daughters of the American Revolution or something; maybe they wouldn't have any answers. My emotional state moved back and forth so quickly, it was like being on a rollercoaster. Thursday came just in time; because I felt if I had to wait any longer, I'd burst. That afternoon my dad picked me up early from school and drove me to Manhattan. The meeting would take place at the Plaza Hotel, I was glad I still had my uniform on; I'd have felt underdressed in this place if I wasn't wearing a tie. The Plaza is one of the most elegant hotels in New York, I tried to take in everything, I wanted to remember this day. We checked in at the front desk and were informed that the foundation was meeting in suite 184. We took the elevator to the 20th floor, found the suite and knocked on the door. We were greeted by a liveried servant who guided us into a small sitting room and asked us to wait there. There were two doors in the room, the one we had just come through and one on the opposite wall. When the door on the opposite wall opened, I caught a glimpse of several middle aged and older, men and women sitting around a table, before two men walked in. One of the men appeared to be about 35, with dark hair and a slender build. He wore a dark suite, wire rimmed glasses and had his hair combed back, giving him a slight widow's peak that reminded me of vampire movies I'd seen. The second man was taller, in his late 30's or early 40's, with graying hair, a charcoal suit and a neatly trimmed mustache and beard. He walked gracefully and had an almost regal bearing about him, in fact, he reminded me of pictures I'd seen of the Romanov Emperors. The younger man approached me first. "Hello, you must be Nicholas," he said, as he extended his hand, "I'm Andrew Kedrov." "I'm pleased to meet you sir, this is my father, George Sutherland," I said as I shook his hand. Mr. Kedrov shook hands with my dad, but the older man still hadn't said anything. He had a pleasant visage and seemed to be waiting patiently. "Nicholas, Mr. Sutherland," Mr. Kedrov began, "I'd like to introduce you to Grand Duke Alexander Vladimirovich Romanov." "How do you do?," said the older man, as he shook my hand and then my fathers. "I've been looking forward to meeting you, Nicholas," said the Grand Duke, "I was wondering if you might like to take a walk with me?" "Now wait a minute, what's this all about?" asked Dad. "I thought we were here for a meeting with your foundation's board?" "Of course," replied the Duke. "I was merely interested in meeting the boy and talking to him about my family history, but if that makes you uncomfortable...." "No, not at all, it's fine," I interrupted. "Nicky, I think we should..." "Dad, please, it'll be alright," I stated. "Alright," Dad relented, "call me on the cell if you need me." With that, I followed the Duke out to the hall and into the elevator. He was quite on the way down and I wasn't sure what to say, so I tried small talk. "So, you're a Grand Duke?" I asked. "Indeed," he replied, "I inherited the title when my father passed away last year. Prior to that I was styled Prince Alexander." "How does that work? If you were a prince, why didn't you become a king?" I asked. I was starting to feel like an idiot, I knew the answers to the questions I was asking from the research I'd done. The Duke, however, didn't offer much and I felt like I had to ask questions just to keep him talking. "The Russian system is a bit different," he explained. "Right, I've done some research on the royal family...." I started. "Imperial Family," the Duke corrected, with a smile. "Right," I said and then just went quiet. The elevator stopped at the lobby and the Duke walked out. He didn't say anything, so I just followed his lead. We headed out the door and across the street, into Central Park. "You'll have to forgive me," said the Duke, "I'm uncomfortable in confined spaces, I'm sorry I wasn't more talkative in the elevator." "That's ok," I replied. "Sir, what's this all about?" I asked. "Nicholas, do you mind if I tell you a story?" he asked. "No Sir, please, go ahead," I replied. "My grandfather came to this country in 1917, after the Tsar abdicated the throne," he began. "Do you know about that?" "Yes Sir," I replied. "I learned about that through my research." "Excellent," he smiled. "When the Revolution came, my grandfather lost everything but his title. He came to this country with nothing and started over, but he always believed, even until the day he died, that the monarchy would be restored and he would be able to return to Russia," said the Duke. "Tradition was very important to him and it's something he ingrained into my father and my father attempted to ingrain in me and my brother. Our father was a hard man, bitter, arrogant, and even cruel," the Duke explained. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," I offered. "It's quite alright," replied the Duke, "it was just his way." "I always did my best to please my father," said the Duke, "but my brother, Prince Gregory, was a different story. The two of them clashed on everything and it only got worse as my brother entered college. While he was at school, Gregory met a beautiful young woman. They began to date and eventually fell in love. When Gregory came to my father and told him that he planned to marry the girl, my father would have none of it. He said the girl was a commoner, she had no family to speak of and was beneath Gregory, who my father had planned to marry off to a wealthy debutant from Boston." "That's awful, this is America, you can't do that here," I blurted out. "Yes, as I said, my father was a hard man," the Duke agreed. "Gregory and my father had a terrible fight," said the Duke. "I was only a boy, about your age, at the time and my father forbade me from seeing my brother. I had no choice but to obey." "I never saw Gregory again," the Duke sighed, "A year later, he was killed in a car accident while returning from a trip to the coast." "I'm so sorry, Sir, that really is tragic," I offered, sympathetically. "Unfortunately the story doesn't end there," said the Duke(.) "The years passed by, I went to college, started my career and a family of my own. My father's health began to decline and he summoned me to his deathbed, so that he might tell me what happened the night my brother died." "Gregory didn't die alone," said the Duke, "his wife was killed with him. Gregory had defied our father's wishes and married anyway. When the paramedics arrived at the scene of the accident, they discovered that she was nine months pregnant. She lived long enough to deliver the baby. The boy was all that was left of my brother and his bride. The hospital called my father, and even though he'd lost a son, he couldn't lose his anger. He took the baby, dropped him off at a fire station and kept the secret until he shared it with me that night." "Oh my God," I replied, in shock. "He said he had named the boy Nicholas and put a note in his blanket asking that he be placed with a decent family," the Duke explained. "He felt incredible guilt about what he'd done and shared the information with me, because he wanted to go to his death with a clear conscience." "After father's death, I tried to find the boy but had no luck. I shared the story with my friend, Mr. Kedrov," the Duke continued. "When the Mishkin Institute contacted him regarding the DNA test of a 17 year old boy named Nicholas, from Connecticut, he called me and well, I knew I had to meet you." By this time I had tears running down my cheeks. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Your brother, my, my father," I spluttered incoherently. "Yes, I think so," said the Duke, as he reached for me and pulled me close. I hugged him tight and buried my face in his chest. This was not how this was supposed to end. I knew it was possible my parents were dead, but all this time I'd held out hope that I'd be able to meet them and get to know them, but now that will never happen. The Duke was gentle and kind, as he held on to me. He rocked me back and forth in his arms until the sobbing stopped and I was able to catch my breath. "W-what happens now?" I asked, with a sniffle. "I had my own DNA analysis done," said the Duke, "right now my results are being compared to yours. I suspect that your paternal line will match my own and that can only mean that you are Gregory's son." "You went to all that trouble before you even met me?" I asked. "I knew that when I did meet you, I wanted to be sure," said the Duke, "but to be honest, I was sure the moment I saw you. You look just like your father when he was your age." We continued to stroll through the park while the Duke told me stories about his brother, my father. I was eager to hear everything he could tell me, but it began to get cold and we headed back to the hotel. When we got into the suite, my dad rushed over and hugged me; evidently Mr. Kedrov had explained the situation to him once we'd left. When my dad let me go, I saw Mr. Kedrov hand the Duke a manila folder. "Is that the comparison of the results?" I asked. "It is," said the Duke. "Well, what do they say?" I asked, anxiously. "For starters, you can call me Uncle Alex, if you'd like," smiled the Duke, as he gave me a warm and welcoming hug. "Well son," said dad, as he gave me his own hug, "It looks like you've found what you were looking for." "Congratulations, Your Imperial Highness," said Mr. Kedrov, while he shook my hand. "Thank you... but, wait a minute. What did you call me?" I asked. "Your father was a prince, Nicholas. As his legitimate heir, you are entitled to use the title Prince of Russia," said Uncle Alex. "That'll make Jamie happy," my dad added, as he winked at me. "Andrew, do you have that package I asked you to hold on to?" Uncle Alex inquired. Mr. Kedrov handed him a small box that Uncle Alex then handed to me. Inside I found a gold signet ring, engraved with the double-headed eagle, the symbol of the Imperial Family. "Uncle Alex, I can't accept this," I balked. "Take it, Nicholas," said Uncle Alex. "It was your father's and it belongs to you." "I don't know what to say," I gushed. "Thank you, this means a lot to me." "You're quite welcome," he smiled. "The only thing I would ask of you is that perhaps you might come and spend some time with my wife and I. I loved my brother very much and I would like to know his son." "I'd like that, I have so many questions," I stated. "I look forward to answering them," smiled Uncle Alex. Uncle Alex and his wife, Elizabeth, lived on Manhattan's Upper Eastside. I made arrangements to join them for brunch on Sunday, then spend the afternoon with them at their home. As dad drove us home, I played with the shinny, gold ring on my finger and wondered what Jamie would have to say about all of this. Epilogue St. Petersburg, Russia, July17, 2018 It's only been a few weeks since my 24th birthday and here I am, visiting Russia for the first time. Jamie wanted to come, but he's taking a summer school course in the hopes of finishing medical school a little early. I wish he'd been able to make this trip with me, but between his medical courses and my PhD studies, we don't get a lot of free time to travel. Instead, I'm sitting next to my Uncle, Grand Duke Alexander, in the Cathedral of the Peter and Paul Fortress, just across the Neva River from the Winter Palace. We've come to the capitol of the Russian Empire to attend a Mass honoring the 100 year anniversary of the murder of the Imperial Family. The church is crowded and I'm lucky to be here. This is a state occasion and no less than the President of Russia himself is here. There's an honor guard of soldiers in their dress uniforms and I saw cannons placed for a 21 gun salute. Uncle Alex's wife, Aunt Elizabeth, was unable to make this trip and I was happy he asked me to take her place. Romanov descendents from around the world have come to pay their respects, while others have come to be seen paying their respects. The front pews are occupied by the senior members of the family. On one side sits Grand Duchess Maria Ivanovna, the self proclaimed Head of the Imperial House, and her son, Grand Duke Andrei Feodorovich, whom she's proclaimed pretender to the throne. On the other side of the aisle sits Prince Konstantin Gregoriovich, Prince of Russia, and head of the rival court in exile. Uncle Alex traded a knowing smile with me when we shook hands with them as we entered the church. Most of the family has taken the position that the Russian people should determine the sort of government they desire, and if they were to institute a constitutional monarchy, they should choose the monarch. The Grand Duchess and the Prince have been squabbling, for years, over a crown neither of them will ever wear. Fortunately, Uncle Alex has kept our branch of the dynasty out of this ridiculous feud and I can enjoy my title for what it is, an honor, a sense of pride in my heritage and a sacred trust passed, down from father to son. History and tradition are what has brought me here today. Since learning of my place in this grand tradition, I've studied the family history and I've come to pay my respects to my murdered ancestors. Nicholas II ruled Russia at a time of strife and discord, unfortunately he wasn't up to the task. Still, he didn't deserve to be gunned down in the basement of a house in the nether regions of the Ural Mountains, alongside his wife and children. The service is almost at an end. As I was raised a protestant, I've found the Orthodox Liturgy to be rather formal and regimented. The priest, or in this case an archbishop, stood in front of the iconostasis, a wall of icon's that separates the congregation from the sanctuary, where he chanted the opening prayers and petitions to God. After two selections of scripture were sung, the priest gave a homily, followed by more scriptures, including the Nicene Creed and the Our Father. I can't speak a word of Russian, so I'm reduced to observing the pageantry. What captured the moment for me; was a song that kept rattling around in my head. I'm not sure where I'd heard it before, but it seemed appropriate for the moment: I vow to thee, my country, all earthly things above, Entire and whole and perfect, the service of my love; The love that asks no question, the love that stands the test, That lays upon the altar the dearest and the best; The love that never falters, the love that pays the price, The love that makes undaunted the final sacrifice. I heard my country calling, away across the sea, Across the waste of waters she calls and calls to me. Her sword is girded at her side, her helmet on her head, And round her feet are lying the dying and the dead. I hear the noise of battle, the thunder of her guns, I haste to thee my mother, a son among thy sons. And there's another country, I've heard of long ago, Most dear to them that love her, most great to them that know; We may not count her armies, we may not see her King; Her fortress is a faithful heart, her pride is suffering; And soul by soul and silently her shining bounds increase, And her ways are ways of gentleness, and all her paths are peace. The service came to an end when the bishop invited the parishioners to take communion. The choir sang God Save the Tsar, which had been the anthem of Imperial Russia, the cannons fired their salute and the congregation began to head for the doors. When it was over, I felt Uncle Alex place his hand on my shoulder. "Nicholas, are you ready to go? There is a reception and we have a long flight home tomorrow," said Uncle Alex. "I picked up some flowers from the shop in the hotel lobby," I began. "I'd like to wait until the crowd breaks up and place them at the tomb." "Of course, an excellent idea my boy," said Uncle Alex(.) "I'll be waiting for you out front when you're ready to leave." I didn't have long to wait. There was a reception being hosted by the Russian Government and the President, most of the family and guests filed out of the church quickly, so they could mingle. I walked towards the sanctuary, my footsteps echoing off the marble floor. Soon, I was standing in front of the tomb of my distant cousin, His Imperial Majesty, Nicholas II, Emperor and Autocrat of All the Russia's, Saint Nicholas the Passion-Bearer. I placed my bouquet of flowers on the tomb and bowed my head to pray. I thanked God for my mom and dad, my brother Nathan, and my partner Jamie. I thanked God for Uncle Alex, the fountainhead of information about my father, the man who gave me a connection to this ancient family. I prayed for Nicholas II, his wife and their children. My DNA had been compared to theirs and without it; I might never have known who my real parents were. I felt a connection with the fallen Tsar, through his death; I was able to find life and new loved ones. I also felt a kinship with the Tsarevich Alexei, Crown Prince of Russia. He too lived with hemophilia and suffered because the medical science of the time couldn't treat him. Sadly, caring for Alexei diverted the attention of the Tsar away from the business of war and governance, which helped to hasten his demise. I am thankful to live in a time where my condition is a mere annoyance, rather than a life and death threat. I feel as though I've come full circle. One summer day, when I was 14 years old, I learned that I was an orphan. Today, I'm Nicholas, Prince of Russia, and I'm standing before my Emperor. As an historian, I'm savoring the moment and my connection to this event in time. I finished my prayer and was approached by a priest I'd met the day before, at an official dinner, as I headed towards the exit. "Ah, your Imperial Highness, what did you think of the Divine Liturgy?" he asked. Imperial Highness, that term wasn't designed to stroke your ego or anything. I'm still getting used to being called that, because it rarely comes up back home. Normally, my title is something Jamie mention's to people when he wants to make me blush, or wants to get us a good table at a pretentious restaurant. Here, it commands respect. "It was beautiful, Father. I'm sure the Emperor would be pleased," I smiled. "Yes, poor Nicholas and Alexandra, such a sad story," said the priest, "I think that history will judge him as a man with a good heart, who came to the throne unprepared for the task that awaited him and paid the ultimate price because of it." "I think that's a fair assessment," I agreed. "Father, I noticed this inscription on the tomb, but I'm afraid I can't read Russian. I was wondering if you might translate it for me?" I asked. "Ah yes, it is in regards to the canonization of the Imperial Family and reads: "In the last Orthodox Russian monarch and members of his family, we see people who sincerely strove to incarnate in their lives, the commands of the Gospel. In the suffering borne by the Imperial Family, in prison, with humility, patience, and meekness, and in their martyrs deaths in Yekaterinburg, on the night of 17 July 1918, was revealed the light of the faith of Christ that conquers evil." I was moved by the inscription and chatted with the kind priest for a few minutes before excusing myself. I found Uncle Alex waiting for me just outside the cathedral. "Ready to go?" asked Uncle Alex. "Yes, I've done what I came to do," I smiled. "Excellent," Uncle Alex smiled back. "I'll just go and get the car." While I was waiting, I pulled out my cell phone and called Jamie. "Hello," Jamie answered groggily, it was the middle of the night back home. "Hey sweetheart," I greeted. "Hi Nicky, how was the ceremony?" asked Jamie. "It was beautiful," I stated. "It just ended. I wish you could have been here with me." "Me to Hun, what are you doing now?" asked Jamie. I looked around the fortress and across the river at the Winter Palace. Nothing will ever make me feel any less American, but coming here, I feel a real connection to my Russian heritage. "I'm coming home," I smiled to myself. Soundtrack: I'm a pianist and as such, I often associate events with music. I included a couple of examples in this story and it struck me that many readers might not know the pieces I've included. I've added links for those who are interested in the music from this story. The Coronation Anthem, Zadok the Priest: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MiXgOQ9_-RI&feature=related I Vow to Thee My Country: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aaYsapDNrFw&feature=related Imperial Russian Anthem, God Save the Tsar: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VC52cUP2PVo