"If you risk nothing, you risk everything."
~ Geena Davis
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In the original timeline, Sergei Witte was the Minister of Finance from 1892 to 1903 and then, after the 1905 revolution, he became the Prime Minister of the Russian Empire until he was discharged due to opposition from conservatives and the Tsar's distrust.
The Russian Empire who was decaying and declining, but from the outside, it appeared strong, coesive and authoritative.
That was thanks to men like Sergei Witte. Men who single-handedly held the Empire on its feet. Nicholas knew what kind of capable man he had on his hands and he would make sure to use his abilities to the fullest and give him what he deserved.
Consequently, this morning, Sergei was in Nicholas' office very early.
"Your Highness, you called for me."
While pointing to the chair in front of him, Nicholas said:
"Oh, Sergei, you're here. Come, sit down"
When Sergei sat down, Nicholas ordered the servants to bring some drinks and pastries. He knew it was very early morning and Sergei probably hadn't eaten anything.
This wasn't the first time they met in Nicholas' office, especially after Tsar Alexander went to Crimea 2 months ago.
They had talked about the progress of attracting foreign technicians and buying American equipment, which unfortunately wasn't going too well because of their limited funds.
But he could feel something was up this time. He stopped drinking when he saw Nicholas was now staring at him intently.
"I need 20 Million Rubles of debt, Sergei."
'huh?' with that, Sergei's jaw fell to the floor.
"W-what do you need 10 Million Rubles for, Your Highness?" the ever-confident Sergei stumbled on his words for the first time in his political life.
'Doesn't he know we have no money? Foreign bankers won't give us any debt, rightfully not trusting our ability to pay and the few actually rich Russian bankers would ask for concessions in exchange!!!
But whatever the case, we do not even have the capacity to pay another 10 Million Rubles of debt plus credit. We are already struggling with our current debts. Is the Prince sick?!'
'Oh, Sergei. I would've asked for 30 Million if it was possible. But Father and the officials won't let me, especially since I need their backing. 10 Million will do just fine for now though.' Nicholas mused quietly to himself
"I want you to contact Russian bankers.
Leave me an appointment with Baron von Stieglitz for next month. If anyone can provide us with the money, it's him.
Prepare a list of collaterals including royal estates, keep it to mostly the ones in my own name.
The debt will be mostly in my own name, but backed by the government.
I am confident in our ability to repay this debt. I am going to invest them in Russian heavy industry, including oil and mining.
And especially, in the Okrhana.
For that, tomorrow I am going to Crimea to meet Father and get his permission. It will take me about a month as I will make some stops along away so have the document ready by early September."
'Am I becoming his personal secretary by now?' Thought Witte while displaying a desparate smile. 'As long as he puts his own name and properties, I guess the state is not risking anything after all. If he actually invests them into the industry, even better. Hmmm... if the Tsar approves, it will not even be my responsibility if anything happens.'
Witte was actually deeply loyal to Alexander, even though their beliefs contradicted.
Alexander had made him the man he was after all. From a mid-level clerk to the Finance Minister, that was quite a journey for him... He could never betray the trust of the Tsar.
"As you wish, Your Highness." Sergei bowed and left the room.
...
Next morning, Nicholas got on the carriage which took him to the St. Petersburg train station.
From St. Petersburg he would go to Odessa by train and from there he would take a boat to Crimea, as that was easier than taking a carriage all the way.
During the journey Nicholas swore to himself he would have them make cars soon, with some great suspension systems as back in his past life.
He stopped at some towns and cities to make an appearance in front of the people and even giften some grain and money to many of them. A meager sum for Nicholas, but for them it represented salvation.
The newspapers Nicholas had bought eagerly worked to publicize this work, promoting him as a loving and devoted to the people Tsarevich.
The train sped through the Russian countryside, the rhythm of the tracks echoing in the Tsarevich's thoughts. In the privacy of his mind, he reflected on the mounting tensions, both home and abroad.
It was a long journey, and thought his body would be carried swiftly across the land, his thoughts were slow and deep, wandering through the corridors of history, duty and God.
Nicholas couldn't help but notice the way the landscape seemed to stretch endlessly. Vast plains, dark forests of the North, the occasional glimpse of a peasant village, huddled in the distance like forgotten memories.
The train reached Odessa after several days of travel, the southern city alive with the warmth of the Black Sea breeze. From there, Nicholas would embark on the final leg of the journey. The voyage by steamboat.
The sleek vessel, its sails catching the wind like a majestic bird, easily cut through the waves of the Black Sea.
Nicholas' mind drifted once again, thinking of his father, Tsar Alexander, and how different their paths seemed.
'He is actually a good father isn't he? Without his support in the Family Council meeting 2 months ago I wouldn't have dared to think about taking 10 Million today.
Those foxes would have eaten me alive, probably stalling even my association until forever. I am really grateful to him, but I will be different from him... Still, I think he already knows I will not be like him and he still endorses me.
Regardless of his way of governing, as my father in this life, my respect for him is immense. That's probably why the original Nikolai adhered to his teachings so strongly.'
The ship finally docked in Sevastopol, the golden cliffs of Crimea rising before Nicholas. The air was warm and filled with saltwater and the promise of something ancient. This was Crimea, a land steeped in Russian history, and here, Nicholas felt a quiet sense of renewal and reflection, away from the snowy days of St. Petersburg. Away from the continues power struggles and intrigues. He could just breath in the fresh air and relax.
But that didn't last long as the journey to the imperial residence in Yalta was a short one.
Before him stood a magnificent Imperial Estate, one which various Tsars over the course of history had taken care of, the dying place of an Emperor, of an Era of the Russian Empire.
Mustering his courage, Nicholas got off the carriage and directly went to meet his father, knocking on his bedroom door, but not before performing an Orthodox Cross on his chest.
*knock knock knock*