“The English newspapers often run stories concerning the Romanov family,” Sherlock said. “Perhaps other countries’ papers do as well. The papers say that your father is very strict, and has instituted English education for his children. He kept your chambers Spartan, made you sleep in military beds, woke you up at six in the morning, and forced you to take cold baths.”
Nicholas frowned with one corner of his mouth. “Mother ran us hot baths from time to time. She was kind. Mother taught us the importance of family.”
“And Grand Duke George…”
His voice turned soft. “George was the smartest of us all. Like Mother, he liked society. He and I were very close. We had all the same tutors, we grew up in nurseries next to each other. We both began English lessons at age six, but he improved much more swiftly than I. And we advanced to the program at the Academy of the Russian General Staff together. By then we were fluent in French, and passable at German and Danish. We often went sporting and fishing together as well.”
“But your brother’s health deteriorated?”
“It did.” A shadow crossed over Nicholas’ face. “I believe the symptoms were first discovered shortly before he came of age. Tuberculosis. He has struggled ever since.”
“Your brother caught cold during your tour of the East and was sent home, out of caution. It was for health reasons.”
“Yes. The entire trip was on our parents’ suggestion—demand, rather. They wanted us to travel from October of last year to August of this, through all those small regions where the British squabble with us for influence. I had never wanted to go but George was looking forward to the trip. So I decided to make the most of it; at least I’d have him.”
“I gather you were not particularly interested in visiting Japan, then, either?”
Nicholas nodded. “None of it suited me. Culture bores me. I detest reading, and find theater and art tedious. The only part I enjoyed was seeing the dancing girls as we travelled down the Nile. I know you are an Englishman, but I found the sight of the British red coats in India to be completely dismaying. And naturally I had no interest in China or Japan. I had heard how barbaric they are.”
Ito had a question. “While you were in Egypt and India, did you not say you were looking forward to your visit to Japan?”
But Sherlock only had to gesture at Chekhov and Anna. The two lowered their heads in chagrin.
Of course. That had also been a lie—designed to conceal the fact that Nicholas and George had traded places.
Nicholas snorted. “My brother was the one who wished to visit Japan. He was constantly telling me everything he wanted to see, but I found it impossible to relate. Japan is an uncivilized place. I knew it would be dangerous to visit, I knew it all along!”
Nicholas is remarkably childish for his age, thought Ito. He had all the entitlement one would expect of aristocracy. He highly doubted their father really had been as strict as the rumors said, looking at the result. Besides, it was easy to imagine how much the mother probably doted on him. Nicholas was selfish and ignorant of the ways of the world—unbecoming traits in a crown prince. He was stubborn in his preferences, and chose to run away, rather than change, when faced with anything that displeased him. What he’d said about not even wanting to look at the British officers in India was a perfect case in point—England was Russia’s greatest rival, after all.
“When did your brother fall ill?” Sherlock inquired.
“He developed bronchitis around when we got to Bombay. We hoped that the warmer climates would help him, but they had the opposite effect. George left the ship and returned to the Caucasus region with Chekhov and the others. It was a real blow. I had never wanted to go on the trip to begin with. Now there was even less reason to look forward to it.”
“Your brother joined you again later, though.”
“He did.” Nicholas lowered himself to sit on the reclining chair. “He recovered nicely when I was in Singapore. He expressed interest in continuing the trip. Only…”
He glanced at Chekhov. Chekhov nodded and picked up the story. “His Highness Grand Duke George wished to rejoin the envoy, but His Imperial Majesty the Emperor sent a letter instructing him to instead recuperate in the Maldives. His Highness the Grand Duke consulted with Tsarevich Nicholas at this point…”
“Yes, he did.” A small smile flickered across Nicholas’ face. “When I got George’s letter in Singapore, I was overjoyed. I told him to join me and we would keep it a secret from our parents together. George was back aboard the Pamiat Azova before we set sail for Siam.”
“Naturally I assume you travelled with the Grand Duke?” Sherlock directed to Chekhov and Anna.
“We did,” Anna replied. “We were aboard the ship from then on, seeing to His Highness Grand Duke George’s health along with the doctor.”
“One of the many annoyances during our time in Egypt and India,” Nicholas said, “is that wherever we travelled, people constantly confused George and I. He is taller and more sociable, and so many assumed he was the elder brother. This isn’t the first time this has happened; people have been confusing us for one another since we were children. So before we arrived in Siam, George and I concocted a plan. I was not enjoying myself at all, whereas my brother very much looked forward to the trip. Why not disembark in my place, and pass himself off as crown prince?”
Ito couldn’t believe his ears. “Ridiculous! The Tsarevich and Grand Duke may have some small resemblances in their faces, but they are hardly twins. The difference must be obvious!”
Nicholas turned toward Ito. “Chairman Ito, do you have any brothers?”
“No.”
“Of course. Brothers may not look or think alike, but to have a brother is to have a natural conspirator. Siam is a closed country, not a British or Dutch colony. We had no intention of ever returning to Siam, so what was the harm? We had help from my cousin, King George of Greece, as well.”
“It isn’t the first time they have done this,” Chekhov ventured tremulously. “Even in Russia, when visiting the smaller country villages, His Highness Grand Duke George often went in His Tsarevich’s place.”
Nicholas’ face creased in displeasure. “Do not say he ‘went in my place.’ That reflects poorly on me. George enjoys travelling, but there were few official duties to take him from home. Our interests simply aligned.”
“Of course, Your Highness,” Chekhov submitted humbly. “If I could be forgiven for saying so, however, while such behavior may have been overlooked in your youth, now that you are an adult… And in recent years, they have made stunning breakthroughs in photographic technology. There is even the Kinetoscope.”
It was an unfamiliar term. “The Kinetoscope?” Ito asked.
Anna explained. “It is a moving picture machine invented by Edison. The Tsarevich and his brother resemble each other somewhat in facial features, but it would be as easy to distinguish them through a Kinetoscope, with gestures and facial expressions, as it would be to distinguish them in person.”
“We already discussed this at length,” Nicholas said impatiently. “With his health as poor as it is, George would never have this opportunity again. He was so looking forward to visiting the Far East. He deserved to go. Besides, it’s hardly as if the Kinetoscope has made it over to these backwaters.”
“Are you saying that Grand Duke George was sent to attend on the King of Siam in your place?” Ito snapped, exasperated.
“We told Tsarevich Nicholas it would be most disrespectful.” Chekhov’s voice cracked. “But Grand Duke George was doing much better, and they promised this would be the last time… We agreed to allow them to swap, but only in Siam and Japan.”