Alexei's Nemesis

"Oh, alright." Alexandra pouted, then changed her tune, "Count Bobrinsky, I want to 'fly' faster."

"I'm afraid that's impossible." Alexei shrugged. "They say this is the maximum speed. But they're replacing the High-Pressure Steam Engine one next month, uh, I think that's what it's called, and then it will turn even faster."

The little girl sighed in disappointment:

"Oh, that'll be a long wait... but at least we'll be staying in Paris for a while."

As she was speaking, a bell rang, and the carousel slowly came to a stop.

The little girl jumped off the rocking horse, her big eyes scanning the surroundings before pointing to the winding waterway in the distance that read "Log Flume":

"I want to go play that! I remember it wasn't there when I last came to Paris."

Alexei glanced at the blazing sun overhead, ignored the handkerchief offered by his male servant, wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve, and said with a pained expression:

"It's so hot today! Maybe we can come back when it's cloudy. You said we're going to be here for quite a while."

"That won't do." Alexandra patted Mickey beside her and, without further ado, pulled her uncle toward the Log Flume. "You just bought an ' All-Access Pass,' we can't waste it!"

A 30- Livre All-Access Pass allows you to ride any attraction in the amusement park until dark.

"If it weren't for that damned winter," Alexei said, looking utterly defeated as he was dragged along by the seven-year-old girl, "We could have arrived in Paris in early summer, when the weather wouldn't be so torturous."

In fact, Catherine II had sent him and his granddaughter off at the end of last year, but shortly after leaving Saint Petersburg, they encountered a terrible cold snap, the worst in decades, with temperatures dropping to minus 30 degrees Celsius and breath freezing into ice—at that time, the whole of Europe, including France, was experiencing a harsh winter—so they had no choice but to return to the Winter Palace.

As everyone knows, after the harsh winter in Russia comes not a warm spring suitable for travel, but a muddy ground made of melted snow mixed with soil. Whether it is a person or a horse, every step on this kind of road requires three quick pulls of the feet or hooves to get rid of the muddy mess.

So they waited until early summer before they were able to set off for Paris.

Alexandra glanced at her uncle and gave him a sweet smile:

"If you hadn't spent over a month 'discussing' poetry with Madame Sienkiewicz in Kremenets, and hadn't 'stayed overnight' with Miss Isabella in Prague for over 40 days, we could indeed have arrived here in the cool early summer."

She grinned, showing off her gap-toothed smile, and added earnestly:

"If I hadn't kept insisting on coming to the amusement park, you might still be with Miss Isabella..."

"Ah, cough--" Alexei hurriedly interrupted his niece with a dry cough, then looked around guiltily. Seeing that no one seemed to have heard, he breathed a sigh of relief. Alexandra had just spoken in French, and if others had heard that, he would probably have become the talk of the Paris Nobility tomorrow.

He quickly helped Alexandra onto the Sloop Log Flume, smiling ingratiatingly:

"You can play for as long as you want. Actually, it's not that hot..."

Two hours later, Alexandra had ridden all the rides twice and finally decided to return to her accommodation, completely satisfied.

After boarding the Carriage parked outside the gate, she looked longingly at the amusement park rides and sighed:

"I heard that all of this was designed by His Highness the Crown Prince of France. I really don't know how he's so clever."

Exhausted from the sweltering heat, Alexei replied irritably:

"He's a prince, it's normal for him to be smarter than ordinary people..."

The little girl looked at him intently, as if deep in thought:

"Uncle Alexei, speaking of which, you are also a prince. Then you must be able to help me build an ' Eden Amusement Park ' in Saint Petersburg, right? I would be very grateful to you."

"Cough, cough..."

Alexei nearly choked on his niece's words, but thankfully he was used to it by now and quickly changed the subject:

"Tomorrow is Mr. Greuze's first lecture. Do you need to prepare in advance?"

Alexandra immediately became serious upon hearing anything related to painting:

"You're right, I should check the paints, since they were all brought from all over Vienna. And I should probably choose my clothes for tomorrow in advance too..."

She greatly admired Mr. Greuze's paintings, and one of her goals in coming to Paris was to learn painting techniques from him.

Drawing is her favorite subject.

The next day.

Jean- Baptiste Greuze, the famous France painter known for his melancholic style and who created "The Guitar Player," at his Villa in the Louvre Palace District of Paris.

Several elegantly dressed Nobility girls were sitting gracefully in chairs in front of Greuze, listening to him explain portrait composition techniques.

However, the young ladies would occasionally glance at the youngest girl sitting in the middle, their eyes filled with curiosity and a hint of rejection.

During the brief introduction before class, they learned that the girl was a Russia Grand Duchess named Alexandra Pavlovna, who was apparently the eldest daughter of the Russia Crown Prince.

However, in their eyes, the Russia were just a group of semi-civilized Tatar who desperately tried to imitate the France but could never quite get it right.

Simply put, he's a country bumpkin.

So even though she was a Grand Duchess, they didn't think she was anything special. On the contrary, they found it very hard to understand why a country bumpkin could come to the class of the famous Mr. Greuze.

Soon, Greuze finished explaining the theory, drew some examples on the spot, then summoned his maid to be the model and instructed his students to use the techniques he had just taught to paint a portrait of the woman in her thirties.

The students arrived at the studio. Alexandra set up her easel, took out the precious paints she had brought from Vienna, and with a serious expression, began to paint.

In the afternoon, Greuze returned to his studio. After his gaze swept over the works of several students, a look of disappointment appeared on his face.

Although these disciples came from noble families and paid him high tuition fees, to be honest, their talent for painting was quite average.

If he wasn't trying to supplement his family's income, he genuinely didn't want to waste his precious time on them.

When he saw the painting by the little girl who had just arrived that day, he was immediately taken aback—her painting skills were indeed not mature enough, and even her basic sketching skills were somewhat lacking, but she had a very thorough understanding of the techniques he had just taught, as if she had practiced them many times.

What surprised him even more was the unique spirituality in her paintings, making one feel as if there was a beating heart in the colors she painted.