If Only...

Chapter 1

"...I told him a story of two people. Two people who shouldn't have met, and who didn't like each other much when they did, but who found they were the only two people in the world who could possibly have understood each other."

― Jojo Moyes

1815 - Eight years earlier

Alexander was used to things going his way, he was his mother's favourite and his father's pride. He was the miracle child, the only son to survive infancy. The prince was spoilt and fussed over by his parents and the nobles, the former glad to have an heir and the latter wanting to curry favor from the future monarch. That is why his father's refusal to break his betrothal was met with incredulity on his part. Never before in his ten years did he remember being denied something. Now all of a sudden, his father ignoring all reason was wedding him to the princess of a savage, asiatic country.

The tide and the wind that were welcoming the princess of Russia seemed to be ushering his doom. The young prince's expression was stormy, his blue eyes flashing grey and his fists balled. His cousin, Sebastian had teased him mercilessly, mocking him about his intended, Alex himself, was afraid she wouldn't be beautiful like the women of court or his own mother. His ignorance blinded him as he believed only European women were truly lovely. Her portrait showed a girl of incredible beauty but as everyone knew artists exaggerated the features of royal women afraid to offend.

An ornate ship flocked by a dozen others docked at that minute, pulling him back from his melancholic thoughts, the privileged royal had never felt more sorry for himself than as he watched the Grand Duchess descend. Forgetting himself for a moment, the prince was awestruck by her, all his arrogance and indignance forgotten in the face of her twinkling hazel eyes and gleaming, golden hair. Like men many times his age and experience, he was blinded by physical attractiveness but unlike most of them, he pulled himself together just before she reached him.

X-X-X

Tatiana was no more pleased about this betrothal than Alex, in fact she may have been even more reluctant but quite unlike him she was able to hide her feelings of discontent. She wished to please her brother,the tsar and had thus, agreed to the engagement in the space of a heartbeat though, now she regretted it as she had to leave her homeland. As her ship approached the shores of England, she steeled her heart and tightened her resolve, childishly determined to win the approval of her brother by being as courteous as humanly possible no matter what tribulations she faced.

As she walked to where her intended waited, her stomach churned and an acute stab of homesickness almost overcame her. It terrified her that every eye on the beach was looking at her, analyzing her and her ability to be a decent queen, she was sure some were looking for faults as if to assure themselves that her arrival did not mean a tremendous shift in the power dynamic of England. As she looked to the Prince, his expression shifted to one of scorn, her blood boiled and in all her youthful and royal pride, it seemed she was ready to face Alex's hate.

It seemed that her naive resolve to be courteous was already trembling, her pride not allowing her to leave the unspoken challenge of his loathsome expression unanswered. As she reached him, she awaited his first move, not willing to greet him politely and respectfully until he proved he would behave at least, publicly. Their childish waiting and silent bantering was amusing for all the adults present for at that moment it was easy to forget that he was the Prince of Wales and that she was his future consort. They were but young children who were yet, to master the art of etiquette and social pretense.

Realizing that they were making fools of themselves, Tatiana curtsied shallowly and in a soft voice introduced herself, '' I am Tatiana Nikolayvitch,Grand Duchess of Russia but you may call me Ana.''