And so I must apologize for barely keeping in touch with you over the last eighteen months, but I have been so busy helping my dearest Nicky with the crushing load of government papers he has to attend to every day – being an autocratic ruler, every last little detail of ruling Russia is up to him and the burden is almost intolerable. Also, being a new mama, I have been spending every other minute with my plump little Olga, who is now almost six months old.

Coronation Day is now only a week away, and you ask why it hasn’t taken place before now and how I shall survive the ordeal. The reason for the long time-gap between Nicky becoming Tsar and being crowned is that there was a twelve-month mourning period after his papa’s death, and the remaining six months have been taken up with all the arrangements for it being made. As to how I shall survive it, I shall survive it as I did my wedding, and that is by focusing only on Nicky and the vows we will make. Nicky tells me that despite the thick snow and freezing weather – spring is very late in coming this year – the crowds on the processional route will be even greater than the crowds on our wedding day. Apparently my robes and crown will be even heavier than my wedding dress and nuptial crown were – something I find hard to believe, as my Russian-court wedding gown was so stiff and heavy with diamonds I could barely move in it.

Other things I remember are having a necklace once worn by Catherine the Great placed around my neck (it added immeasurably to the weight of everything else). Standing in front of the beautiful gold mirror that all previous tsarinas-to-be have stood in front of. Walking into the chapel with my maids of honour behind me and seeing Nicky, so handsome in his scarlet Hussar uniform, a fur-edged cape hanging from his shoulders. Nicky’s younger brother, Misha, and his cousin, Kyril, holding our two wedding crowns; and the flickering candles that Nicky and I were given to hold. For the most part, though, it was a blur that I knew I had somehow to survive – and the coronation will be the same, but oh, how I wish it was already over and behind me!

The main things making such long ceremonial occasions an agony for me are my poor old legs. When I was a child I was playing catch with Irène and Ernie in the palace vegetable garden, and I tripped and fell through a sheet of plate glass that was protecting some plants. It took months for the deep lacerations on my legs to heal, and ever since my legs have never been strong. Standing for too long has always been an agony for me.