"Minister Durnovo, your concerns are reasonable."
Nicholas's mind raced. He needed to construct a logical response to address the fears of instability due to wealth disparity.
"However, from rural birth rates, we can infer that as the population grows, the land owned by the communes won't be able to sustain the expanding populace. This means the communes will soon fail to provide even the most basic living standards, also leading to destitution."
This was Nicholas's first argument: maintaining the current system would only result in decreasing per capita land holdings.
"If we prepare in advance and cultivate a sufficient number of affluent farmers who can provide a solid tax base for the country, we can develop our burgeoning industries to absorb the excess rural population."
Nicholas illustrated his point with examples from his observations in the Kyiv-Kharkiv region, where emerging cities were converting surplus rural laborers into citizens and workers.
"In this way, our industry can flourish with a wealth of human resources, while the reduction in rural population will ease land pressure, transforming impoverished villages into prosperous ones."
Finally, Nicholas cited a scenario described in Witte's report.
"We have 120 million subjects. If we could achieve the wealth of France, our budget could rise to 4.2 billion rubles, or, if we match the prosperity of Austria-Hungary, to 3.3 billion rubles."
Currently, the Russian Empire's annual revenue was only 1 billion rubles.
Upon hearing this, Pobedonostsev sighed, arguing that a developed industry would only lead to selfish individualism and moral decay among those who neglect their faith.
He understood that the "old world" he cherished might never return, yet he stubbornly held his ground.
Interior Minister Durnovo, after listening and nodding, admitted, "His Highness's ideas are indeed practical. I believe they are logically sound."
However, Durnovo emphasized that the commune system was crucial for maintaining the Russian national sentiment. Even if the government forced its dissolution, "this could lead to unsettling moments of upheaval."
Durnovo, who had studied in Paris, was deeply familiar with the French Revolution. He feared that once reforms began, unrest would be inevitable.
"An unstable situation will drive more ignorant people to join the revolution advocated by radicals, and then it will be too late to reverse!"
Durnovo warned with a somewhat alarmist tone.
"Plehve, what do you think?"
The mention of "revolution" seemed to evoke unpleasant memories for Alexander III. He leaned back in his chair, glumly turning to the Deputy Minister of the Interior.
"I'm not well-versed in agricultural matters, but regarding legal issues..."
Plehve did not directly challenge Nicholas's report. Instead, he built on Pobedonostsev and Durnovo's comments, suggesting some legal adjustments to Alexander III from his expertise.
Since Nicholas had almost no knowledge of Russian law, these highly technical discussions were left to Plehve and Pobedonostsev.
Plehve neither opposed nor supported Nicholas's report. He merely emphasized that improving farmers' lives through legal means was feasible.
In this ambivalent manner, Plehve, a seasoned bureaucrat, concluded his remarks.
"Alright, I understand."
After hearing Plehve's speech, Alexander III acknowledged their input and finally turned to the absent-minded Duke Meshchersky.
"Meshchersky! I didn't invite you here to daydream and sip tea!"
The Tsar growled.
"Fufu" was a derogatory nickname for Prince Meshchersky, but he had a close relationship with Alexander III. Before marrying, the Tsar's only lover was Prince Meshchersky's cousin.
"Your Majesty, please allow me to make this the topic for our next salon discussion," Meshchersky said.
Despite his polished exterior, Prince Meshchersky was an empty-headed man. However, he had connections and was a political broker, so many people in the government and in St. Petersburg sought his favor.
Meshchersky hosted monthly banquets at the renowned Donon restaurant in St. Petersburg, inviting bureaucrats, university professors, and influential local figures to discuss literature, philosophy, and politics.
"Fufu" relied on these informal political activities to influence government policy, as the attendees were prominent figures in society.
"Remember, stop playing 'Tsar'!" the Emperor snapped.
Sometimes, the discussions at Meshchersky's banquets would veer off course, as the esteemed intellectuals, though eager to gain something from the gatherings, still tried to maintain an appearance of "objective neutrality." It was as if they knelt while swinging their begging bowls at the prince.
This often annoyed Alexander III, who would angrily shout, "Stop playing Tsar!" when Meshchersky's banquets brought him new troubles.
"Then..."
After Meshchersky finished his brief speech, Alexander III glanced around at the four men. He stood up, and they followed suit, the atmosphere becoming solemn.
"Ensuring that the tillers of the land can live in peace and prosperity is a mission bestowed upon me by God," declared Alexander III, who believed his rule was divinely ordained and absolute.
"Durnovo, you will lead the effort to improve and formulate legislation concerning the peasants. Make sure to integrate the laws from the past decade with the relevant provisions from the 1861 reforms."
Durnovo bowed his head in acceptance.
"Alright, you may leave. I have more to discuss with Nicholas."
Pobedonostsev seemed to have more to say, but a sharp look from Alexander III silenced him. "Do what I ask of you!"
The stubborn old professor had no choice but to yield to the Tsar's authority.
"..."
Although Nicholas had been prepared for this moment, as the decision to dismantle the commune and support wealthy peasants was highly controversial, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment.
"Do you know what the happiest moment of my life was?" Alexander III's booming voice broke the brief silence. He stood up and moved to the sofa in front of the desk, sitting beside the Crown Prince.
Nikolai pondered deeply but couldn't come up with an answer. After all, strictly speaking, Alexander III had been his adoptive father for less than a year.
"I... don't know, Father."
He responded honestly to the Tsar.
"Hmm..." Alexander III shook his head. "You wouldn't know, you're not the Tsar yet... It was in 1883."
"That was the happiest day of my life," he explained to Nikolai, who still looked bewildered. "I personally oversaw every detail of the coronation ceremony."
Nikolai recalled that it was a memory from when he was fifteen.
On the morning of May 12, 1883, at ten o'clock, Alexander III entered Moscow on a white horse, escorted by the Imperial Guard Cavalry. Behind him were the grand dukes, followed by a long procession of gilded carriages, with the first one carrying the Empress and the Tsar's children.
That day, cannons thundered, bells rang, and Tchaikovsky's "Trumpet Tune" played.
When Nikolai's father first entered Moscow as Tsar, the people's cheers brought unprecedented excitement to the predecessor.
What a majestic and moving scene it was!
As Alexander III passed through the gate, the Tsar bowed to the people, and the deafening cheers and thrilling applause resounded.
Three days later, Alexander III was crowned alongside Maria at the Cathedral of the Dormition.
"This ceremony marked the beginning of my autocratic rule."
To Alexander III, autocracy was not a derogatory term. He believed in the absolute power of the Tsar, accountable to no one but God.
"If anyone, it would be only God!"
"This 'great event' shocked the morally corrupt Europe and showed them that the Russian Empire, just like in the era of the Moscow Tsars, was the most sacred Orthodox Russia, and it would always remain so."
His father believed in his mission, never wavering.
"..."
But Nikolai was different; his future was uncertain.
"You will understand one day, when you don the crown, when you receive the homage of your subjects in the Cathedral of the Dormition, when you stand in the square and accept the allegiance of the people."
Alexander III patted the bewildered Nikolai on the shoulder.
"Now, put aside your trivial concerns and go to Kronstadt to meet your fiancée."
The Emperor gave his command in an unquestionable tone, and Nikolai bowed his head in agreement.
"By the way," Alexander III called him back just as he was about to leave, "be careful! Don't overdo the flirting!"
The Tsar's concern left Nikolai both amused and exasperated, as Alexander III still remembered the time when the Crown Prince went missing in Saint Petersburg during his escapades.
However, the Tsar didn't blame Nikolai; instead, he thought it was his indulgent brother, Grand Duke Alexei, who had led his son astray.
"Little Nicky, your outfit is too plain!"
Empress Maria stopped Nikolai, criticizing his attire from head to toe.
Though Nikolai was almost 25, in Maria's eyes, he was still her little boy.
The worried Empress Maria personally brought several brand-new high-end suits for her beloved son, all luxurious items custom-made from Parisian haute couture shops.
"I think it's fine..."
Nikolai, having been an engineering student in his previous life, had little sense of fashion and dressing, awkwardly letting Empress Maria dress him up.
"This damages our image."
As she tied Nikolai's necktie, Empress Maria earnestly reminded him how to win a lady's heart.
"How is it?"
"Your Highness looks radiant."
"Yes, indeed..."
Following Empress Maria were several ladies-in-waiting who all praised the newly dressed Crown Prince.
The saying "clothes make the man" wasn't without reason.
Over the past few decades, men's fashion had changed little compared to women's. The style still followed the so-called gentleman's attire from the 1830s, consisting of jackets, shirts, vests, suits, evening coats, and long pants.
The difference might be that the fabric for suit vests began to use luxurious brocade, replacing the once-popular embroidered cotton vests.
Standing in front of the full-length mirror, Crown Prince Nikolai was now dressed in a fashionable combination of a light-colored shirt made of striped linen and gingham, paired with a non-tailcoat suit. This smart but not overly formal outfit was perfect for informal public occasions, just right for meeting a prospective partner.
"Remember to follow the rules."
Like every mother anxious about her child taking the stage, Empress Maria gave Nikolai countless reminders.
"Mm-hmm, I know, Mother."
Nikolai replied casually, nodding before quickly getting into a carriage and then transferring to a train to Kronstadt.
Kronstadt, about 29 kilometers from Saint Petersburg, is a port city built on Kotlin Island, which rises from the Gulf of Finland.
Peter the Great began constructing Kronstadt alongside Saint Petersburg in 1703, as a fortress to protect the city.
"Kronstadt" is a German name meaning "Royal City."
The fortress city had three harbors: the western one was a civilian commercial port, the central one was a repair dock, and the eastern one housed the Baltic Fleet of the Russian Imperial Navy.
However, Nikolai had little interest in admiring the busy commercial port of Kronstadt. He was somewhat nervous, not expecting to enter a matchmaking scenario after crossing over.
While Nikolai was scratching his head on shore, Princess Elena was in a similar situation.
"..."
Princess Elena slipped her slender fingers into a pair of off-white lace gloves, holding a small folding fan to cool her heaving chest.
Her delicate, snow-white bosom was gathered by intricately patterned sheer lace.
The women's fashion of this era was called the Basile style. Princess Elena's rapid breathing, likely due to the tight corset emphasizing her S-shaped curves, prompted her two sisters to frequently use silk handkerchiefs to wipe the fine sweat from her forehead.
"Don't be too nervous, my daughter."
The Count of Paris tried to comfort her again.
"Louise, go get your sister a glass of ice water."
As both sides were caught in inexplicable anxiety, the steamer carrying the Count of Paris and his entourage docked.