Driving wolves to devour a tiger

Russia.

Saint Petersburg.

Crown Prince Paul Petrovich emerged from Catherine's bedchamber, looked back twice with lingering reluctance, and finally strode toward the other end of the corridor.

It was not that he wanted to be close to his mother. Quite the opposite: he was filled with loathing for Catherine, just as his mother loathed him.

It was his adorable little angel, Alexandra, whom he could not bear to leave.

Catherine never considered his feelings. Ever since she had discovered that Alexandra was growing more and more like her, she had monopolized the little girl's company.

Paul could scarcely see his daughter even once a month.

Earlier, he had taken the little girl to the King of France's birthday celebration and finally enjoyed two full months with his daughter. But now that they had returned to Saint Petersburg, they had to part again.

As he rounded the stairs, his heart heavy with melancholy, a figure suddenly darted out and threw an arm firmly around his shoulders. A familiar voice rang out:

"When did you get back, my dear brother? How were the noblewomen of Paris? Did they make you forget all about coming home?"

Paul immediately smiled and gave his younger brother a hard shove, then deliberately put on a stern face.

"I don't have as much money as you to spend on women. Especially French women-I certainly can't afford them."

"Haha, what else is money for?" Alexei sidled up to him again. "Are you going to drill troops again today? Why don't we go fishing instead? I've got the tackle and liquor ready."

Paul kept walking, his chest out and head held high.

"Spare me. I don't want to get as drunk as a puddle of mud and be swept away by the river."

He was referring to a winter