Chapter Six - Sex, Vodka, and Political Blackmail

CHAPTER SIX

Sex, Vodka, and Political Blackmail

ONCE RASPUTIN WAS in, he did the one thing every peasant-turned-power-player eventually does:

He started acting like a rockstar.

He had no official job. No title. No real boundaries.
But everywhere he went, doors opened, skirts lifted, and rumors followed.

People came to him for healing.
He gave them vodka, weird advice, and sometimes himself.

He wasn’t a monk.
He was a one-man chaos engine in a robe.

Rasputin didn’t just attend elite parties.
He ruined them.

He’d show up loud, smashed, greasy, smelling like old incense and sweat, then insult half the room, hit on the host’s wife, and whisper death prophecies to their kids.

He’d get kicked out.
Then invited back the next week.

Because nobody wanted to be seen as anti-Rasputin, not while the Tsarina still loved him.

So they tolerated him.
Even as he stumbled through St. Petersburg like a religious GTA character.

This man was not discreet.
There were whispers before. Now it was shouting.

Countesses. Actresses. Rich widows. Even nuns.

Rasputin wasn’t just flirting. He was allegedly promising spiritual healing through “holy intimacy.”

Some people believed it.
Some just didn’t care.
And some wanted the power that came with being close to him, very close.

Meanwhile, the press had a field day.
They didn’t need evidence. Just vibes.
And Rasputin had a surplus of those.

Headlines accused him of sleeping with the Tsarina.
Of corrupting the Church.
Of running secret orgies.
And, naturally, being Satan.

Sometimes all four in the same article.

It didn’t stop at gossip.

Rasputin started using his influence the same way a drunk uncle uses a family secret:
very recklessly.

He’d tell ministers who to hire and who to fear.
He’d spread rumors about bishops who crossed him.
He’d drop hints to the press if someone pissed him off.

People started bribing him to stay quiet.
Others tried to spy on him.
Everyone was paranoid.

And Rasputin? He thrived on it.

He wasn’t just a scandal now.
He was a threat.

To the nobility.
To the Church.
To the illusion of control.

Despite the chaos, Alexandra stayed loyal.

She brushed off the headlines.
She blamed the enemies of the throne.
She called it all “slander from jealous men.”

She was convinced that the insults, the beatings, the lies, and Rasputin’s suffering was proof he was chosen by God.

And Rasputin leaned into it.
He played the victim.
He told her he was being persecuted.
That he alone could see the danger coming.

So she clung tighter.

As the country spiraled, the empress turned more and more to the one person who made her feel safe, even as he set fire to everything around her.