The Third Roman Empire

Atatürk refused to bend his pride even as his nation teetered on the brink of collapse.

That was nothing but sophistry. I had no intention of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wasting time on such petty arguments. At this point, it was better to lay everything bare.

The mere act of moving troops without engaging in battle was already grounds for misunderstanding. I had to extract at least this small concession. The idea of Tsarina reclaiming Constantinople without a single shot fired? The White Army officers would be absolutely drunk on nationalism. “The Tsarina has reclaimed the Second Rome,” they’d say.

Anyway, this too was nothing but wordplay. Britain and France were inevitably going to have to relinquish their colonies. They could afford to offer empty verbal support as much as they wanted.

Exactly. There was no way he could trust us. Even I wouldn’t trust my own country. It was like handing a fish shop over to a cat—carving off a massive chunk of territory and handing it to a former enemy.

It was practically an appeal directed straight at Atatürk himself.

Good. Reaching this point was excellent. I had almost succeeded. If I had failed here, there would have been no choice but to go to war.

Some time later, Atatürk sent his reply. He would trust me—for now. He would pretend to be deceived and forge an alliance, looking toward the future. He had looked at reality and decided it was better to be deceived and secure a powerful friend than to face total ruin.

In actual history, the Grand National Assembly had fought to the bitter end. Even İsmet Pasha, sent as a special envoy to Britain, had firmly rejected the Allies’ proposals. But now that history had changed, the White Army’s entry into Anatolia left them no choice but to submit.

Unlike in the original timeline, the newborn Turkish state was reduced to a minor power, occupying only the central-southern and southeastern parts of Anatolia, including Ankara.

Britain and France had at least managed to save face. Meanwhile, the Russians—whose pride had been trampled by the Bolsheviks after the Red-White Civil War—were now united in a new sense of pride. The very Russians who had nearly seen their country overturned because of the “Red Romans” now burned with greater pride than ever as the true successors of Rome, thanks to the recovery of Constantinople.

After the Red-White Civil War, the Russian people—having endured hardship and clung to their identity as descendants of Rome as a spiritual pillar—were now completely intoxicated with Roman fever. This was the moment when, unlike the Soviet Union of the original history, the White Russians’ identity as the true heirs of Rome was firmly established.

And for Atatürk and his comrades, it felt like utter defeat.

Their ammunition was nearly exhausted. Discontent was rising even within the Grand National Assembly’s forces. At this point, perhaps it was enough.

They still didn’t know what kind of person she was. But at that age, to stand in what was essentially enemy territory and remain so composed—how many women could do that? The Russian troops around her hadn’t even been that numerous.

For the sake of “dialogue,” and to ensure the safety of Kemal and the Grand National Assembly leadership, she had withdrawn almost all her forces. In that situation, killing the Grand Duchess would have been trivial, yet she had worn the face of someone who had danced across the line between life and death.

One could tell on the battlefield—who needed to be watched, and who was someone one should join hands with, at least for now. The Grand Duchess belonged to both categories.

In truth, if Russia had pushed harder, they could have taken more than half of Türkiye with the official approval of Britain and France. Instead, she had chosen to create an ally.

Yes. For now, they would survive. For the day when Türkiye could once again stand tall as it had in the days of the Ottomans.

The Turkish Grand National Assembly eventually surrendered. Mustafa Kemal Atatürk himself appeared as their representative, while Britain sent Churchill on behalf of their interests in the region. What a pair of hateful bastards.

We dispatched Vasily Kharlamov—the former leader of the White forces in the entire Caucasus and current Minister of Foreign Affairs—to conduct the negotiations. Thus, the new Treaty of Ankara was signed.

Greece, apparently upset, stormed out of the negotiating table to make a point. For the White Army—more precisely, for me, who had been chosen as Tsarina by the Duma after nearly my entire family was slaughtered in the civil war—the recovery of Constantinople would solidify my legitimacy.

How fortunate that they had surrendered. If Atatürk had been determined to fight to the last man, it would have been exhausting. The civil war had only just ended, and the lands formerly under Bolshevik control were still seething with unrest. Another taste of red could have easily stained them again.

Compared to the original history, it was a rather shabby ending, and I felt a twinge of pity.

The Duma deputies were all smiles. Even the former Green Army officers like Antonov-Ovseenko and Terpilov—who had once shouted, “We have no choice! This is only a temporary alliance!” while calling for the Bolsheviks to be killed first—were beaming with joy.

Yes. Roman fever was impossible to resist.

Tsarina. Tsarina. A title that had never been in my fate. Though the subject had come up before, at this point Russia’s position had risen dramatically.

During the height of the Red-White ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Civil War, it had been possible for me to be treated as Tsarina. But now the war was over, and we had somehow recovered Constantinople. There were bound to be those who wanted to stick their spoon in the pot.

The Salic Law. Formalized by Paul I of the Russian Empire, it had been born from his deep resentment toward his mother, who had become Empress after killing his father in a coup. It barred women from inheriting the throne. Of course, with no male heirs left, the law had lost its meaning.

Boris Savinkov, who had recently founded the National Republican Party, spoke up. The man had been a leftist in the original history, yet he had moved with remarkable speed to align himself with our side. He was also quite skilled at assassination. He had even served as Minister of War in the Kerensky government. Still, one could never truly know a person’s heart.

Having restored Constantinople and being in a position to proudly declare themselves Roman Emperors, which member of the imperial family would not drool at the prospect?

Most of the imperial family had fled to Britain ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and France. Yes, well. They had not yet arrived, but this essentially meant they were acknowledging me as Tsarina. Or perhaps they simply believed their own necks would be at risk in a land where the Tsar had already been killed.

That aside—talk of blades?

Old habits died hard. They were already considering assassination. Did they not realize the Tsarina standing before them was also a member of the imperial family? The people who had joined after the civil war all seemed to have lost their minds. Was it really safe to transfer power to the Duma like this?

Yes. The Duma had already decided everything. In these situations, one was supposed to refuse a couple of times with excuses before reluctantly accepting on the third. Moreover, this was a decision made by the Duma—the very center of state power. There was no avoiding it.

If it was the will of the Duma, then there was nothing to be done. Ah, the Duma has ordered it, so I have no choice. In this way, I would acknowledge the Duma’s supremacy while ascending the throne. After all, I was merely accepting the crown they offered me.

In that case, I would become Anastasia I.

Thanks to the recovery of Constantinople, Grigory Semyonov had rushed over from Mongolia and was now busy singing my praises. Indeed. Was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I not about to receive the imperial titles of both East and West? Of course, the Mongol side felt more like I had stabbed them in the back and forced the title upon myself, but still.

The Great Purge. Here, I had shown the Bolsheviks no mercy. I had filled the ranks exclusively with White Russians loyal to the new Russia. To prove that the Reds’ revolution would be crushed beneath the sacred double-headed eagle. Those who still could not curse Marx and Lenin were not merely suppressed—they were eradicated on charges of treason.

If not for Makhno, we would have had no choice but to rely on the British.

That wouldn’t happen. From the beginning, what Makhno dreamed of was anarchism. His ideology was quite distant from Lenin’s. Wasn’t that why Trotsky had suppressed him in the original history?

There was no reason to strike at Makhno’s Black Army right now. With Lenin fallen, the Bolsheviks beaten, and the Anarchist Free Territory officially recognized by White Russia, it was nothing more and nothing less than a free city under White Russian influence. If left alone, its power would naturally dwindle and be absorbed by us.

Why? Because right above them stood a reformed Russia. Even if Makhno wished to maintain the Free Territory by himself, it would not be easy. No nation could survive in isolation. If the only country willing to engage in free trade and treat them as equals was our Russia, then in the end, they would collapse on their own.