One-Eyed Parrot (4)

When I first shouted my ideas—back in the fall of ’91, right before enlisting, when no one would listen—I had a thought.

Does the empire really need to get drastically stronger to survive?

The events that turned the Russian Empire into the Soviet Union feel like things I could easily twist.

For instance, as Finance Minister Witte said, why not just abandon the Far East, which is no use to the empire now?

The decisive event that topples the empire—the Great War?

If we refuse to renew the alliance with France at the right time and settle our debts, the chance of war with Germany drops sharply.

It’s not about surviving by being strong—it’s about surviving to become strong.

We might weaken a bit. The empire might be less grand.

Like always, we’d cling to great power status by sheer size.

But we wouldn’t fall. That much I could guarantee.

This is the country Napoleon gave up fighting. Unless external and internal enemies hit simultaneously, it’s hard to topple.

I mulled this over whenever I felt trapped in the army, hands and feet bound.

And I realized it was nonsense last year, when I felt the ripple effects of history I didn’t know.

[Endless growth in the United States—market collapses!]

The translated foreign papers were full of details I didn’t know, describing an America different from what I understood.

“Paper currency trust tanks, everyone’s hoarding gold, real estate’s obliterated, and the stock market’s crashed.”

The fallout? Soaring leftist support, rampant populism, and collapsing industries—railways, shipping, banking.

“Hmm…”

These events likely happened in the original history, unaffected by me.

But why was I shocked?

Simple.

“…Outside Russia, I barely know other countries’ histories. Just vague outlines.”

Common knowledge says “U.S. panic” and you think 1929 Great Depression, not an 1893 panic.

All I knew about the 1893 global economy was a brief note—nothing detailed.

It’s not just America. I’m no archive storing every person, event, or history. I only know a bit more about Russia.

If you ask what specific event toppled the Russian Empire, historians would point to the 1914 Great War.

But what about the famines and plagues before that? The revolutionary attempts and terrorism? The growing gap with other nations under Nikolai’s reign, the long-simmering public anger, the inevitable war with Japan?

I’m not a revolutionary waiting for capitalism’s collapse. I’m the crown prince, the pinnacle of the ruling class, living in this reality.

If I sit idly, history’s current will sweep me away.

Suppressing every problem with power like Father has its limits.

I still don’t get why this year’s U.S. panic was triggered by a failed Buenos Aires coup.

I thought I knew the future, but it’s not the key to everything.

In short, I don’t know when or what external event might doom Russia. Or if my inaction twists history in ways I can’t predict.

Ultimately, strength is the answer. The empire must grow strong enough to withstand any external shock to survive.

Which brings me to—

“The sky’s stunning today, isn’t it?”

“Indeed.”

“When I was in the Far East years ago, the skies were even clearer, prettier. Don’t you want to see them?”

“Please, enough. I’m not leaving the army.”

“Who said leave? I said go to the Far East.”

Today, I’m still pestering our dear Major—er, Colonel Roman.

It’s 1894. A year and a half since meeting Roman, and he still won’t budge under this crown prince’s charms.

“Damn principled bastard…”

“Pardon? What was that?”

“Nothing.”

The fact that I’m still here with Roman means…

Yup, I’m still in the army!

In Korea, they’d use up two years of your youth and send you home. I’m on year three, stuck in the military.

I was sure Father would recall me to St. Petersburg after six months in Vilna.

But even past my twenty-sixth birthday, he hasn’t pulled me out.

Sure, I’m barely at the base half the time now, but I’m still tied to the army. Freedom? Nonexistent.

“Why? Three years for a crown prince in the army is unheard of. Following the British navy? Even that’s just ceremonial fluff.”

“Your Highness, if you hadn’t written that bizarre article, you’d be back in the capital by now.”

“What, a crown prince can’t speak freely?”

The article that spread through the papers wasn’t accusing or criticizing anyone.

“I just suggested land reform and redistribution could be solved through Far East development…”

“And you sparked a brawl across Russia. Landlords vs. peasants, nobles vs. workers, immigrants vs. Russians. Even colonial development issues. You divided everyone.”

Uh… was it that divisive? Still, getting everyone to at least think about the Far East—isn’t that a win?

“And didn’t I say repeatedly? If you’re abandoning the Far East, abandon it fully. If you’re keeping it, go all in. It’s a goldmine and a minefield.”

“Those radical words are why you’re still in Vilna.”

Radical? I don’t know. It’s just about cutting losses fast or investing decisively.

“Why does no one listen to me?”

Today, I sprinkled some Far East dreams on steadfast Roman, only to get an earful.

But his scolding means he cares, so I’ll take it positively.

Back at my quarters, a stack of translated newspapers awaits, as always. I skim headlines and contents daily, and one catches my eye.

[Qing Dynasty and Japan engage in armed conflict]

I don’t know all history inside out, but Korean history’s practically common knowledge.

The Donghak Peasant Movement.

The Tianjin Treaty.

The occupation of Gyeongbokgung and the start of the Sino-Japanese War.

It’s not huge news outside that region, but with the Iron Silk Road—the Trans-Siberian Railway—our empire’s watching closely.

And that attention means…

“Imperial Ministry official. I’m here to escort Your Highness.”

It’s time for me to return to St. Petersburg.

“Father.”

“…You’re here.”

His face, more worn than before. The man who used to hunt with family each year now looks barely able to move alone.

“You’ve lost weight.”

“Nephritis. Dr. Leiden says I need rest.”

This era’s medicine can’t fix Father’s broken back or failing organs.

I know that better than anyone, yet I offer empty words.

“It’s nothing. You’ll join us for next year’s hunt.”

Seeing him so frail, I couldn’t even complain about three years in the army. Guilt gnawed at me.

Because this man is truly my biological father. Because I know his coming death was to save his children in a train accident.

“Nicky.”

“…Yes, Father.”

“I was a Tsar of absolute power. No one dared challenge my authority.”

“I know.”

Upon ascending, he built the Okhrana to crush dissent, secured the military’s loyalty, and won the nobles’ full support. Who’d dare defy the Tsar?

“Yet this position… you can’t make mistakes or be wrong. You can’t act like a Tsesarevich.”

“…”

It sounds like a rebuke for my recklessness, but his eyes aren’t those of a scolder.

“You’ve heard about the Far East. War’s broken out. The era’s come where the empire must protect that distant land before the railway’s done.”

Japan’s first imperialist move. Britain’s scrapped all unequal treaties with them this year, their influence in the Far East growing.

Russia, with its close borders, feels it keenly.

His breathing’s labored, laced with coughs. I tried not to respond too much.

“My son, Nicky.”

“Yes.”

“A Tsar must be perfect.”

Every word dripped with pain.

“You’re not a Tsar yet.”

And yet, they were heavy, warm.

“Go to the Far East. While I’m still alive.”

“…This war isn’t Russia’s. And ‘while you’re alive’? Don’t say that—you’ll be up soon.”

The war between Qing and Japan, with Korea caught in between. Our empire’s ties with Korea are barely diplomatic.

“You want to go, don’t you?”

“I’m not that immature kid anymore. The army changed me.”

“This is your last chance to fail. Go, act in my name.”

Why? The man who shut me down at every mention of the Far East—why now?

“…As your father, not Tsar, this is the last I can do.”

“…”

His faint smile gave me the answer.

His body’s failing, and he knows it better than anyone.

The Romanov dynasty’s most devoted family man.

Not just a line in a record—I felt it as his son, an indescribable emotion.

“…Thank you.”

All I could do was bow my head in gratitude for his one-sided devotion.

Leaving Father’s chamber, a group of Imperial Ministry officials awaited me on the first floor of Peterhof Palace.

“By His Majesty’s command, we are here to assist Your Highness.”

“The Imperial Ministry.”

The Tsar’s hands and feet—deputy ministers. Some were reassigned, but this alone meant I’d inherited a slice of the Tsar’s authority, beyond just being crown prince.

“Not just the Imperial Ministry.”

A familiar voice turned my head to a face I hadn’t seen in a while.

“Minister Witte.”

“Yes.”

“How far does my authority extend?”

“Full authority over the Far East.”

Full authority. Meaning no one can hold me accountable for my actions.

This isn’t a crown prince’s antics anymore—it’s the Tsar’s decree.

“There’s much concern among officials. With His Majesty in recovery, your absence raises questions.”

“And you? Still think the Far East’s a land of peace?”

Everyone here knows the Tsar’s health is failing, and my position has shifted.

If Witte opposes me to the end, I might have to give up persuading him.

His reforms are grand but not enough to save the empire.

“…I still don’t know. What this war’s fallout will be, whether Japan will clash with Russia.”

He still lacked conviction.

“But I know one thing. As you said three years ago, things beyond Siberia have changed. Korea, Qing, Japan, and our empire—everything’s shifting. I think it’s time to invest in the Far East.”

“Good. That’s enough.”

I don’t think everyone here agrees with me or trusts me.

But now, someone will listen when I speak, and I have hands and feet to wield freely.

I don’t know how much time Father’s given me—or how long he’ll hold on.

He’s frailer than three months ago.

That’s why he’s handed me the Imperial Ministry.

Before heading to the Far East—

“The Imperial Ministry handles medals, right?”

“Yes.”

“Prepare one.”

“Which one?”

“He’s a colonel, so… Order of St. Vladimir, 4th class. For contributions to reforming basic military training.”