At the outbreak of war, Alicky had turned the Catherine Palace at Tsarskoe Selo into a military hospital, and a wing of the Alexander Palace into a surgical unit. Then, along with her two oldest daughters, she had trained as a Red Cross nurse. By now all three of them were qualified and highly competent and Olga, having just come off-duty, was still in her nurse’s uniform.

Alicky sprang to her feet. Every day that she and Nicky were apart she longed for their reunion, and especially for the nights they would once again share. To be in Nicky’s arms in the darkness, to feel his lips on hers and his hands on her body was the very breath of life to her. Having been married now for twenty-two years, for both of them the passion and the rapture never faded.

This time, though, their reunion didn’t bring joy in its wake, for when Nicky walked into the palace, Alexei wasn’t at his side. He was being carried, and Dr Fedorov was hurrying alongside him, holding great pads of blood-stained bandages to Alexei’s nose.

Alicky screamed and broke into a run.

Nicky said tersely, ‘It started with a sneeze. At first it didn’t seem as if it was going to be a serious bleed, but by this morning I knew I had to get him home.’

Over the top of the blood-saturated pads, Alexei’s eyes flickered open. ‘I’m sorry, Mama,’ he whispered, and then his eyes closed, his face deathly white.

‘Grishka!’ she said through a sob, running after Nicky and the officer who was carrying Alexei as they headed at top speed up the grand staircase towards Alexei’s bedroom. ‘Have you contacted Grishka?’

‘I’ve sent word. He’s on his way.’

By the time Alexei was propped up on pillows on his bed, Dr Botkin was with them and not long afterwards Rasputin entered the room at a run, snow clinging to his long hair and knee-high boots. Ignoring Botkin and Fedorov, he strode to the side of the bed and, as Alicky dropped to her knees to join him in prayer, he stood silently, as he always did at times like this, his head bowed.

For several minutes he prayed and when he finally raised his head he said in his deep, soothing voice, ‘Do not be alarmed, Little Mother, Little Father. Nothing bad is going to happen’ and then he turned and left the room – and the palace – with the same speed with which he had entered it.

Exhaustedly, Alicky rose to her feet and sank into the chair by Alexei’s bed. ‘The bleeding will end,’ she said to Fedorov and Botkin. And then, to Nicky, ‘And this Man of God who holds our son’s life in his hands is the man your family wants you to banish? It must never happen, Nicky! Never!’