A.N: This is an alternate history where the rules of succession within the Russian royal family change from a tragedy. Olga is then raised to become the next Tsarina. Once on the throne, will she manage to maintain the Russian Empire through a world war and the threat of revolution? Will the Romanovs and a certain kitchen boy have their happily ever after?

I do not own Anastasia or the Romanovs.

August 12, 1904

Tsar Nicholas the Second, ruler of the mammoth Russian Empire, had never been so worried before in his thirty-six years alive. He stroked his trimmed beard while he paced around the hallway. Another shrill scream erupted from behind the door of his wife's bedroom. For a few minutes, all Nicholas could hear was silence- until he heard his wife sob. After those few moments, Nicholas could hear Doctor Botkin and the midwives talk in hushed tones. Fearing the worst, the Tsar knocked on the door and waited for his royal doctor to open it. After some time, he heard the door unlock and saw it open. With trembling hands, he entered the room, feeling dread fill his being.

Doctor Botkin wore a saddened expression, looking a decade older. He stepped aside, and spoke, "Your Majesty… I am sorry to inform you that your son… was stillborn. The cord was wrapped around his neck."

Nicholas froze as if he were doused in freezing water. He looked at his wife, Tsarina Alexandra, cradling a little body swaddled in blankets. She looked at him with her watery blue eyes, and she could not hold back her emotions that threatened to overflow. The tears came again, and she sobbed again with a louder volume, sending another wave of grief into her husband's heart. Nicholas felt his agony increase as he slowly looked around the grotesque scene. The towels under his wife were soaked with blood, and the blankets were ruffled. All midwives and Doctor Botkin, dressed in red uniforms, stood at the corners of the room and looked at Nicholas with pity.

"It cannot be…" The Tsar whispered to himself, shaking his head.

The Tsar looked at the still body of his son who never took his first breath, and he walked to his wife. He remembered feeling his wife's stomach for kicks. He remembered countless moments spent arguing over names. Had his son lived, he would have been the apple of his eye and the next Tsarevitch. However, that possibility was just wishful thinking rather than reality, and reality now reared its ugly side. Arriving beside his wife, Nicholas ran his hand over the blue cheek of his stillborn son. He could not tolerate the looks from Doctor Botkin and the midwives much longer, as he wanted to privately converse with his wife. He then told the midwives and the doctor to clean the blood, and he exited the room as they did so. After they had done so, Nicholas reentered the bedroom, and he spoke again.

"You all may leave," Nicholas said, looking back with a strained expression.

The doctor and midwives left the room, closing the door behind them. Nicholas looked into the eyes of his wife, who continued to sob and hug the body of their son. He outstretched his hands toward his wife to ask for her permission to hold his son. Instead of giving Nicholas a chance to handle the fresh corpse of their son, Alexandra moved her arms farther from him. Nicholas frowned, and his lips trembled.

"Nyyeeeet!" the Tsar cried out, looking upward with tears streaming down his cheeks.

Nicholas sank to the ground, crouching by the bed and burying his face into the shoulder of his wife. Overwhelmed by their grief, both Tsar and Tsarina sobbed for an extended time. After his tears had run dry, Nicholas embraced his wife, who also stopped her wails and tears. What could not be expressed through words was expressed by a gentle hug. Alexandra looked at Nicholas with her watery blue eyes and spoke for the first time in hours.

"Nicky… I failed. This is my fault," Alexandra sadly said.

"You did your finest, Sunny. I do not blame you for the stillborn birth," Nicholas replied.

"You- you do not blame me?"

"Of course not. I love you with all my being. You will always be the light of my life and my other half, no matter what we go through," Nicholas said, kissing Alexandra on her cheek.

"Thank you, Nicky."

Nicholas covered his wife with the blankets, and he pulled a chair closer to the bed before sitting on it. As he listened to the rhythmic breathing of his wife, he hoped that their four daughters would survive despite the unrest in his empire. Since he had once again failed to conceive a living male heir to the throne, he and his wife would surely be looked down upon by the commoners. In addition, the failure of his dynasty to relieve the starvation in rural areas did not help his people's approval. Both of those troubles greatly bothered them. If left unchecked, that dissatisfaction could blossom into hatred for the royal family, and their daughters would be at risk of assassination.

Olga Romanova, a tempered eight year old, had the dark blue Romanov eyes and brunette hair from her father. Sitting on her bed, she flipped to the last page of a novel. While going through the usual routines of wandering the palace, eating her three meals, and cleaning her room, she grew more anxious with every passing hour. The oldest Grand Duchess wondered about the well-being of her mother and the baby, and she was worried. For over half a day, she had awaited news about her soon-to-be sibling and the condition of her mother.

Tatiana, the oldest of Olga's three siblings, sat beside her while reading her own book. Like her sister, Tatiana felt worried as well. Unlike her sister, she kept all signs of her concern hidden under a mask of indifference. This was because Tatiana was the leader figure of the Romanov daughters. She was expected to remain unaffected by hardships and give direction to the rest of her sisters during their trials. For this certain situation, Tatiana could not do anything to ease her sisters through it.

"Tatya, do you think the baby is fine?" Olga asked.

Tatiana, shifting her gaze to her older sister, said, "I do not know, Olya. All we can do is wait and pray for Mama and the baby."

With reluctance, Olga continued to read. Tatiana resumed reading her book, but she could not concentrate. For another few minutes, they read in silence, occasionally looking at the door in anticipation. Finally, they heard their parents talk in hushed tones outside their door. Placing down her book on the nightstand, Tatiana jumped off the bed in excitement, hoping to see her new sibling. She opened the door with a smile, but it quickly faded as she looked at the tear stained cheeks of her father. Olga, also stepping outside of the bedroom, lost her smile as well.

"Papa, what is wrong?" Tatiana asked.

Nicholas only shook his head, and Alexandra wept. Tatiana, who felt confused, asked her question again. Again, she received no reply except for the ongoing sobbing of her mother and silence from her father.

"Papa?" she asked in a nervous tone.

"Your brother left us… he is with God and the angels now."

"But I want to see him!" Olga yelled.

"I am sorry, my little Olga, but the baby… your brother… he is gone."

Olga lowered her head in disappointment, and she asked, "Did the baby… die?"

Nicholas sighed, lowering his shoulders. "Yes, your brother is gone."

Olga stood still, as she was shocked by the news. She could not believe that the baby within her mother was now gone. Her baby brother, the heir to the throne and another addition to their tightly knit family, had sadly passed. He never took his first breath, as his birth had been complicated by the tangled umbilical cord. Despite the passing of the Tsarevitch, the Romanovs could still continue their line of succession. However, they would have to break with their long held traditions of male heirs, and that bothered Nicholas the Second.

Alexandra dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief, and she looked at Nicholas. "Oh, what do we do, Nicky?"

Born a stubborn and wary man, Nicholas despised making changes in traditions. He briefly considered trying for another pregnancy, but he hesitated. Trying for another heir was an option, but it had a higher chance of disaster. The last birth had been difficult, and his wife had severely bled. Nicholas realized the importance of continuing the line of succession with a male heir, but he could not endanger his beloved Sunny. Only one option was left: stubborn, moody Olga. He took a deep breath, and he coolly decided his next course of action.

"I never thought that I would consider this, but the circumstances demand another solution for inheritance of the throne," the Tsar spoke.

Alexandra gasped, realizing what her husband planned to do. "But, Nicky, the rules of succession…"

"I know, my love, but I believe that we have no other option but to change our Salic laws. Our eldest daughter will become the next Tsarina, and that is my final decision."

"Mama, Papa? What are you talking about?" Olga said with a confused expression while Tatiana remained silent.

"Olga… we need to tell you something," Nicholas quietly said, bending down to Olga.

"What?"

"You will be queen someday, dear child. Once you are old enough, you will take it, " Nicholas said.

Olga continued to stay still, as she had never expected the news that she was next in line for the throne. Tatiana felt surprised like her older sister, and her mouth remained agape. Even at eight or seven years old, they both were told that princesses could not inherit the throne. Soon, their fate would be changed.

Olga looked up into the blue eyes of her father. "Me? Tsarina?"

"Certainly. This means that you will have to act more like a lady, especially controlling your temper. Since we have no heir, you have become the future of our family," Nicholas said.

"But what about Tatiana? She is good at telling people to do things."

"Olga, you are the oldest, so you will be the next Tsarina… someday," Nicholas said with a weak smile.

Olga placed her hands on her mouth, feeling both surprised and happy that she had been promoted from a Grand Duchess to the future inheritor of the throne. Besides happiness and surprise, she had her doubts. With her temper and stubbornness, she was not the best choice for Tsarina unlike her younger sister. Would she be ready for the burden of governing over a hundred million subjects?

Tatiana faced Olga. "Wow, Olya's gonna be queen."

"I am not sure, Tatya. I get angry easily, but you are more calm than me, so you should be Tsarina," Olga said.

The day after Olga had been selected as the future Tsarina, the funeral for the stillborn child was held in the Alexander Palace gardens. Since the Russian people had looked down on the Tsarina for repeatedly failing to deliver a male heir, it was decided that the funeral be privately held. As with all ceremonies involving the Russian royal family, there were scores of guards patrolling the perimeter of the location.

Watching a tiny white coffin be carried by priests with an escort of guards dressed in black uniforms, the Tsar, Tsarina, and their four daughters sat in silence. The coffin was carried to the center of the gardens past the trees and various flower beds which included forget-me-nots. After what seemed like hours for Olga, she saw the coffin being lowered into the neatly dug hole. The priests and the Romanovs gathered around the hole and uttered a few prayers for the soul of the child. Alexandra could barely pronounce the words coherently, as she struggled not to sob again. After the prayer, the priest spoke one last remark for the child.

"Alexei Romanov, may your soul find peace and love in the tender embrace of the Lord." the priest spoke in a solemn tone.

As the covering of the coffin began, the royal couple knew that their lives would never be the same, and the time for change was approaching.