Saint Petersburg
Nicholas II was already an old man with one foot in the grave. Born in 1868, he was seven years younger than Ferdinand, yet from appearances alone, he seemed twenty years older.
God seemed to have played a joke on him. The first half of his life had been rich and colorful, while the latter half held nothing but tragedy.
The mighty Russian Empire had declined in his hands. Every foreign war he launched had ended in defeat. Just as domestic reforms had begun to show results, his only son had left him as well.
The only good news was that Little Alexei had left him a grandson, one who had not inherited his father's hemophilia and, for now, appeared healthy. That was his only pillar of support.
This was also what he envied most about Ferdinand. Since Boris had produced his first eldest grandson in 1930, Little Ferdinand's wife was now close to giving birth as well.
The four younger sons had all married in turn. No matter how one looked at it, there would be no shortage of descendants in the future.
For a royal family, the more heirs, the better. So long as there was still a choice, they would never allow a woman to inherit the family estate. That meant the family line was about to die out.
Unlike the flourishing House of Gotha, the Romanov Dynasty had grown thin in numbers. Not counting women, even Nicholas II's only son was dead.
Though he still had a younger brother, because of his rebellious youth, he had married a widow of questionable conduct. His descendants had already lost their inheritance rights.
There was no DNA verification in this era. Once one's bloodline was suspected of being problematic, it was difficult to win everyone's recognition again.