I worried about the unrest that had seized the entire country, about the safety of Alicky and Nicky and the children. I was saddened as well at the prospect of leaving my beloved Moscow, where I felt so at home, and I worried endlessly about my husband and the death threats against him. For the past several days he hadn’t been varying his routine-why wouldn’t he? The commander of security had just this morning suggested doing so, commenting that the Grand Duke’s afternoon visits to the Governor-General’s residence were becoming too regular and hence too well known. The eyes of the revolutionaries were everywhere, he added, and there was nothing they loved more than a predictable path. “Sergei,” I gently pleaded after the last dish had been cleared from our noonday meal, “perhaps you should take a different route today, or perhaps you should be traveling with an escort or-” “Matters of security are not your concern,” he replied in his autocratic manner as he rose from the massive walnut table.
