Walking past the cemetery, with its high hedges guarding the sleep of the dead, I looked ahead into the distance. It was a fresh spring morning. The trees were starting to bloom and I could see squirrels running along the branches, playing with each other. I had come to visit a family grave, my great-great-grandfather Jack Black-Montague. More of a family tradition than one done out of emotion but I always enjoyed laying flowers at the grave as my ancient grandfather had led such an interesting life, or so the legend says, a story that has been passed down the generations.
Looking over the rich green gardens, the Tsar of Russia couldn’t help but feel proud of his only daughter. Having three older sons, Rebecca was most welcome being the only daughter and last child. With long, curly, raven-black hair, a very trim figure and pale complexion, Rebecca was the beauty of the Russian Court. Her mother, the Tsarina, loved her dearly and lavished attention on her only daughter. Being so much younger than her brothers, this beautiful seventeen year old felt completely safe, and her brothers almost fighting each other to protect her.