January 1908
"How did you come up with the idea that the peasants needed entertainment to draw them away from revolutionary ideas, Your Highness?" the Prime Minister asked as soon as they had exchanged the customary pleasantries and taken their seats.
Alexei thought for a moment before deciding to answer honestly. "I was simply thinking of ways to strengthen my proposal for establishing a sports organization and improve its chances of being approved. Eventually, that idea came to mind. I wondered whether giving people more opportunities for recreation and entertainment might leave them with less time and inclination to be influenced by revolutionary agitators."
He paused briefly before continuing. "I didn't expect it to hold any truth. I merely asked some of my people to look into it and investigate. To my surprise, they found that, at least for some workers and peasants throughout the Empire, there was some truth to it."
Pyotr Stolypin leaned back in his chair and let out a quiet sigh from behind his desk.
"So, in other words," he said, studying the young Tsarevich carefully, "you arrived at the conclusion first... and only afterward searched for evidence to determine whether it had any merit."
Alexei nodded without hesitation while he leaned back in his seat. "Yes."
That straightforward admission earned another sigh from the Prime Minister. He could not help but think that the Tsarevich was truly a genius. He had countless capable men working under him, yet not one of them had conceived an idea like this. At the Tsarevich's request, he had ordered a thorough investigation into the matter. After months of observing workers and peasants across several provinces, the findings had largely supported Alexei's theory. The results were not yet conclusive, but the pattern was evident enough to warrant serious consideration. That alone had been sufficient for Stolypin.
He had already presented his findings to the Tsar. Nicholas had remained speechless for quite some time after reading the report before ultimately giving his approval for the Tsarevich to proceed with establishing the sports organization.
Looking at the young heir seated across from him, Stolypin decided to probe a little deeper.
"My investigation reached conclusions similar to yours, Your Highness," he said. "However, I am still uncertain whether the sports organization you are proposing is truly the right solution to reduce support for the revolutionaries. It could very well become a double-edged sword."
He folded his hands together on the desk. "If the revolutionaries were to exploit these sporting events as opportunities to spread their ideas, gather supporters, or organize in secret, we might unintentionally provide them with precisely the platform they need."
"You're right," Alexei admitted, crossing his arms as he considered how best to respond. After a moment of thought, he continued.
"We can't completely prevent such things from happening. However, we can identify and monitor the people responsible. If we maintain sufficient surveillance during these events, we can determine who the instigators are. Once they reveal themselves, we can quietly remove them afterward. And if someone else steps forward to replace them, we simply do the same again. Eventually, enough of them will realize that using sporting events to spread revolutionary ideas is simply not worth the risk."
He paused before shaking his head slightly. "There isn't really a foolproof way to stop this from happening. After all, even with all the authority and resources at your disposal, you still haven't been able to eradicate the revolutionaries completely."
Pyotr Stolypin was momentarily speechless. He simply looked quietly at the young Tsarevich seated across from him. He had merely intended to probe further, to see whether the Tsarevich had any ideas for solving the problem he had presented. He had not expected the question to back fire on him.
Inwardly, he let out a quiet sigh. There was truth in the boy's words.
Even with all the authority he wielded as Prime Minister of the Russian Empire, he had yet to eradicate the revolutionary movement at its roots. No matter how many conspirators had been arrested, exiled, or sent to the gallows, new ones always seemed to emerge in their place.
After a few moments, Stolypin finally found his voice. He cleared his throat before speaking. "There is certainly some truth in what you've said, Your Highness. It is indeed difficult to root out the revolutionaries completely."
He paused briefly before continuing. "As for your idea of using these sporting events as a means of identifying and monitoring potential agitators... I must admit, it has considerable merit."
Alexei smiled faintly. "Thank you."
Deciding not to probe the matter any further, Stolypin shifted the conversation to the purpose of the meeting. "Anyway."
He picked up a folder from his desk, opened it briefly to confirm its contents, and then slid it across to the Tsarevich. "This is the official approval for the establishment of your proposed sports organization, Your Highness. It has already been signed by His Majesty."
Alexei accepted the document with a smile. No matter how hard he tried to suppress it, he simply could not. He was genuinely happy at that moment. After briefly admiring his father's signature on the approval, he looked back up at the Prime Minister.
"However," Stolypin continued, "before you can formally begin establishing the organization, you must first submit a complete proposal detailing its structure, responsibilities, administrative hierarchy, funding requirements, and methods of operation. Once it has been reviewed and approved by me, only then can the organization be officially established."
A faint smile appeared on his face. "You already know how to prepare such a proposal, don't you, Your Highness?"
"Of course," Alexei replied readily. He could hardly wait to begin writing it. Still, he knew he would need the assistance of his tutors to prepare a proper proposal, as he was not yet fully familiar with the Empire's administrative hierarchy and bureaucratic procedures.
After that, their conversation shifted to lighter topics. For the most part, the Prime Minister asked about Alexei's studies and the various subjects he had been learning, from academics and military instruction to music and fencing. Alexei answered each question honestly, knowing full well that very little that happened within the palace escaped the notice of those who cared to ask.
Eventually, the conversation turned to Stolypin's family. The Prime Minister spoke about his son, who had survived the bombing at their dacha, and shared his hopes for the boy's future. After a brief pause, he asked whether Alexei would be willing to meet him one day and become his friend.
Alexei agreed without much thought.
The closer he could build a relationship with the Prime Minister, the better. After all, aside from his father, no man in the Empire currently wielded greater political influence than Pyotr Stolypin. Cultivating a good relationship with him would undoubtedly prove beneficial. Alexei still had many plans he hoped to bring to fruition in the years ahead, and he knew that many of them would require not only his father's approval but also Stolypin's support. Having the Prime Minister on his side would make accomplishing those ambitions considerably easier.
By the time their discussion came to an end, it was almost time for dinner. Alexei made his way to the dining hall, where the rest of the Imperial Family had already gathered. Throughout the meal, he answered every question his mother asked about his experience at the Council of Ministers meeting. After dinner, he spent some time playing with his sisters before finally excusing himself, claiming that he was rather tired after the day's events.
Once he returned to his room, he went straight to the washroom, cleaned himself up, and changed into more comfortable clothes. Afterward, he instructed Sednev to inform all of his tutors that he wished to meet with them the following day, emphasizing that he wanted every one of them present.
The request left Sednev wondering what his Tsarevich was planning this time. However, it was not his place to question his master's intentions. He simply sighed inwardly, bowed his head, and assured Alexei that he would deliver the message to every tutor.
With that done, Alexei dismissed everyone for the night. As soon as the room fell silent, he sat cross-legged on his bed and began cultivating. His progress had slowed to a crawl ever since reaching the third level of Body Cultivation. It had taken him five years to reach that point, and he could not help but wonder how many more years it would take to reach the middle stages. Even so, he had already come to terms with the possibility that he might never attain the higher realms of cultivation in this lifetime. The thought saddened him, but he had accepted reality. His current strength, combined with the gradual improvements he would continue to gain as he advanced through the minor realms, was already more than sufficient for this world. With that in mind, he pushed aside those lingering thoughts and continued cultivating without interruption until well past midnight. Only then did he end his meditation, lie down on his bed, and drift into a deep, restful sleep.
The following morning, Alexei woke up early. Since the palace grounds were blanketed in snow and unsuitable for his usual morning jog, he decided to run through the palace corridors instead, accompanied by his wolves, Nagorny, and several of his personal guards who happened to be on duty that morning. Nagorny had little choice in the matter. If he did not accompany the Tsarevich, neither he nor the guards would be able to properly protect him, which was, after all, their foremost duty.
Along the way, they passed servants who had long since grown accustomed to the Tsarevich's peculiar morning routine. They greeted him respectfully, and Alexei returned each greeting with a warm smile before continuing his run. They also encountered a few nobles residing within the palace, who likewise greeted the young heir, and he responded to each of them with the same courtesy. After completing more than ten laps around the palace, Alexei finally came to a stop. Turning around, he could not help but chuckle at the sight of Nagorny and the guards panting heavily as they struggled to catch their breath, clouds of white vapor escaping their mouths into the frigid morning air. Even his wolves had their tongues hanging out, though unlike the men, they showed little sign of genuine exhaustion.
Shaking his head with amusement, Alexei instructed Nagorny and the guards not to overexert themselves before ordering them to wash up. He then returned to his own room, took a quick shower, and had breakfast served there.
After finishing his meal, he looked up from his plate and asked Sednev, "Are my tutors ready?"
"I scheduled the meeting for ten o'clock this morning, Your Highness," Sednev replied. "It was already quite late yesterday by the time I informed them of your instructions." He glanced at the clock before continuing, "We still have a little over an hour before the meeting."
"I see." Alexei nodded as he wiped his mouth with a napkin and rose from his chair. "Let's go to my study. I'll wait for them there while continuing the manuscript I still haven't finished."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Sednev bowed respectfully before quickly instructing the maids to clear the table. He then gave Anya a subtle nod, silently reminding her to make sure the room was spotless, before hurrying after the Tsarevich.
When Alexei arrived at his study, he immediately began outlining the stories scheduled for release that year, carefully organizing their characters, major plot points, and endings. Fortunately, he no longer needed to write every chapter himself. He already had a team of writers working under him, and his role had gradually shifted from author to director. All he needed to do was dictate the story, guide them through its progression, and ensure they reached the ending he envisioned. As long as the finished work remained faithful to what he remembered, he was satisfied. He had never intended to become another Shakespeare. His stories were meant to entertain, filled with fantasy, adventure, and wonder rather than literary grandeur.
Even so, his thoughts had already begun drifting toward another project. Alongside the outlines for his novels, he began jotting down the titles and rough concepts of the comics he intended to introduce in the future. The profits from that venture would not come immediately, but he had no intention of overlooking an investment that required little more than time, writing, and illustrations at this stage. More importantly, he knew the true value lay not only in the comics themselves but in the intellectual properties they would create. Just thinking about how valuable those IPs could become in the future was enough to make him inwardly drool. Especially since he knew he would likely live long enough to see them flourish, as long as he did not end up dying in the coming wars, that is.
Alexei was halfway through outlining one of his stories when the first of his tutors arrived. He immediately set down his pen, rose from his chair, and greeted the man. "Good morning, Monsieur Gilliard. I apologize for informing you about this meeting only yesterday. I hope you didn't have any important plans or appointments today."
Pierre Gilliard accepted the Tsarevich's offered hand and shook it with a warm smile. "Good morning, Your Highness. Please don't worry. I had no important appointments today."
He glanced around the study before adding with a faint smile, "It seems I'm the first to arrive."
"It certainly looks that way," Alexei replied with a smile. "Come, have a seat. I'll explain why I asked all of my tutors to come today before the others arrive. A privilege for the first man arriving."
Once they had both settled into their chairs, Alexei began explaining the purpose of the meeting. He told his French tutor that the Tsar had already approved the establishment of his proposed sports organization. However, before it could officially be created, he first had to prepare a comprehensive proposal detailing its organizational structure, responsibilities, administrative hierarchy, funding requirements, and methods of operation. It was precisely for that reason that he had gathered all of his tutors. Their combined knowledge and expertise would be invaluable in helping him produce a proposal worthy of official approval.
Pierre Gilliard raised an eyebrow as he listened to the Tsarevich's explanation. Only twelve years old, yet already preparing to establish an organization of his own? It spoke volumes about the faith the Tsar had placed in his son. Then again, after giving it a little more thought, Gilliard realized that perhaps age was no longer the proper measure when it came to Alexei. He had served as the Tsarevich's tutor for nearly three years now and had witnessed firsthand the remarkable maturity of his thoughts. More than once, Alexei had asked questions that had left even him momentarily speechless, forcing him to think long and hard before he could offer a satisfactory answer. Not to mention that the Tsarevich was already writing his own stories, managing several successful businesses, and organizing large-scale competitions, all at such a remarkably young age.
"What do you think?" Alexei asked after finishing his explanation.
Gilliard answered without hesitation. "I may not be an expert in establishing a sports organization, Your Highness, but I will do my utmost to assist in whatever way I can."
There was no reason to pass up an opportunity like this. If the Tsarevich's organization flourished in the future and eventually grew into a prominent institution, perhaps even a ministry, having contributed to its foundation would undoubtedly reflect well on everyone involved. More importantly, it would further strengthen the trust that already existed between himself and the future Tsar.
"Good." Alexei smiled warmly and clapped his hands together once. "Then we'll wait for the others before we begin in earnest. In the meantime, please make yourself comfortable. There are some refreshments on the table if you're hungry."
Pierre glanced toward the table laden with food before politely shaking his head. "A cup of tea will be more than enough for me this morning, Your Highness."
"Then tea it is."
Alexei nodded toward Sednev, who immediately understood the unspoken instruction. With a subtle gesture, he signaled one of the maids, who promptly stepped forward to prepare and serve a fresh cup of tea for Monsieur Gilliard.
It did not take long for the others to arrive. His English tutor, Charles Sydney Gibbes, was the next to enter, followed by his mathematics tutor, Mr. Breshko-Breshkovsky, then his Russian language and literature tutor, Pyotr Vasilievich Petrov. One after another, the rest of his tutors arrived until everyone he had requested was finally present.
Not wishing to waste any more time, Alexei waited until they had all settled into their seats before standing up and addressing the room. He explained the purpose of the meeting, just as he had earlier to Monsieur Gilliard, and then went into greater detail about his newly approved sports organization, outlining its objectives and explaining why he needed their combined knowledge and expertise to help him prepare its organizational structure, responsibilities, administrative hierarchy, funding requirements, and methods of operation.
For a few moments, the study fell completely silent. The tutors exchanged glances with one another as they digested everything the Tsarevich had just explained. Although most of them had grown accustomed to Alexei's unusual ideas over the years, the prospect of helping establish an organization that could one day oversee sports throughout the entire Empire was still far beyond anything they had expected to be discussing that morning. Only Pierre Gilliard appeared completely composed. He calmly sipped his tea while observing his colleagues' reactions, patiently waiting for someone else to speak first.
It was Charles Sydney Gibbes who finally broke the silence. "I will do my best to help you with this endeavor, Your Highness. When do we begin?"
Of everyone in the room, Gibbes had been employed most recently, so he was still not as familiar with his fellow tutors as the others were. Even so, he had already come to appreciate just how extraordinary the Tsarevich truly was. During every English lesson, Alexei absorbed new vocabulary, grammar, and expressions with astonishing speed, often mastering concepts after hearing them only once or twice. Because of that, Gibbes was not particularly surprised that the Tsar had entrusted his son with establishing such an organization. More importantly, he wanted to demonstrate his support. Unlike the others, who had spent years teaching the Tsarevich and had already earned his trust, Gibbes still considered himself a newcomer and felt he needed to prove his own worth.
It was as though a dam had suddenly burst. The moment Gibbes voiced his support, the others quickly followed.
"I agree," Mr. Breshko-Breshkovsky said without hesitation after hearing Gibbes. "If His Majesty has entrusted you with this responsibility, then the least we can do is help ensure that the proposal is worthy of the confidence he has placed in you."
The rest of the tutors soon voiced their agreement as well.
Alexei smiled appreciatively. "Thank you, everyone."
Without wasting another moment, the discussion began. Some offered their knowledge of administration and education. Others volunteered to help draft regulations, organize departments, or refine the language of the official proposal. Regardless of their individual specialties, every tutor was eager to contribute. None of them wished to miss the opportunity to assist the Tsarevich in laying the foundation for what could one day become one of his legacy before even becoming the Tsar.
The discussion continued uninterrupted well into the afternoon. Despite all their efforts, however, they managed to produce only a rough outline of the organization. Realizing that there was still far too much work to be done, Alexei reluctantly brought the meeting to a close and scheduled another session for the following morning.
Over the next three days, the tutors returned to his study every morning. Together, they revised the proposal section by section, debated countless details, reorganized departments, refined responsibilities, adjusted reporting structures, and even argued over the wording of certain regulations until everyone was satisfied. By the time the fourth day came to an end, Alexei leaned back in his chair and carefully reviewed the completed draft.
A satisfied smile slowly spread across his face. "This is it."
He knew the proposal was far from perfect. The organization's structure, regulations, and procedures would inevitably need to evolve over the years as weaknesses became apparent through experience. Nevertheless, what lay before him was more than sufficient as a foundation. More importantly, he was confident that it would meet the Prime Minister's standards and receive his approval.
The tutors exchanged relieved smiles of their own. Four days of constant discussion, debate, and revisions had finally borne fruit.
To thank them for their tireless efforts, Alexei insisted that none of them leave immediately. Instead, he invited them to remain at the palace for dinner.
This time, Yuri and the palace kitchen prepared one of Alexei's favorite meals: smoked barbecue featuring brisket, pork ribs, and a variety of sausages, all of which they had spent weeks perfecting further, experimenting with different flavors and seasonings.
Although several of the tutors had initially been skeptical when they heard about the unusual dish, those doubts quickly vanished after the first few bites. Before long, conversation drifted away from organizational charts, government regulations, and administrative structures to far lighter subjects. Laughter gradually filled the Tsarevich's study, bringing a pleasant end to four long but productive days of work.
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A/N: Please don't forget to rate and review the story after reading. And if you want to read ahead. You know where to look.