A severe drought in 1921 spoiled the grain harvest throughout the region. Peter worked long hours carrying buckets of water from the lake in an attempt to irrigate the crops, but it was not enough to save the wheat and barley; their stalks withered and died in the ground. Not only would they be unable to bake bread to feed themselves then sell their excess produce at market, but there was not going to be enough fodder to see the animals through the winter. Peter and the farmer calculated how many cows they could afford to keep, then Peter set off to sell the rest for the best price he could obtain.

“Now there will be less milk and less beef,” he told Maria. “I’ll have to do more hunting through the winter.”

He began hunting in the early hours of the morning, then again at dusk after he had finished his chores, but the population of elk, grouse, and rabbits seemed more sparse and his endeavors could not save them from hunger pangs most days that autumn. With the winter fast approaching it was hard to know how they would cope.

“Did you know the Revolution in February 1917 was sparked by women protesting over the shortage of bread?” Peter asked Maria, while they played with their toddlers in the barn one evening. He was pretending to be a big bear and chasing them around so they would be tired enough to sleep despite the hunger knotting their stomachs.

“We girls had measles and were in our sickbeds that month,” Maria told him. “The first I knew of the Revolution was when Papa returned from army headquarters and told us he was no longer Tsar. New guards arrived and we were confined to the palace grounds.”

“I heard your father ordered his royal guard to open fire on the protesters but they refused,” Peter told her. “There were too many women in the crowd—women who simply wanted to be able to feed their children.”

“My goodness, I can’t believe Papa can have known that. He must have been misinformed.”

“Perhaps.” Peter was tight-lipped.

Maria felt she had to defend her family. “I know stories were circulating in the newspapers saying that the Romanovs ate caviar at every meal and ordered their clothes from Paris couturiers, but they were quite unfair. We did not buy any new gowns after the start of the 1914 war, and our meals were humble fare. I mean . . .” She thought back. There had been fish and meat at dinner, usually cooked in light sauces, and out-of-season fruits were often imported from southern lands. As she had eaten from delicate dishes served on fine china, with crested solid silver cutlery, she’d had no idea what it was like to play with your children in a barn so that hunger would not keep them awake. Surely if her father had known that those women merely wanted bread, he would have given them some?