All language subtitles for The Great - 03x10 - Once Upon a Time.ETHEL+HULU-NTb.English.C.updated.Addic7ed.com

Did you see that out there?

We need to negotiate a surrender.

Oh, we do.

You to me.

Because that's what I'm seeing.

I mean, think about it.

You, the Church, me,
fucking whipping 'em up.

You join me, bring the
Church, and it is ours.

I, um...

Are you listening or
just watching my lips,

wondering how they taste?

- Hmm?
- You wouldn't be good for me.

Oh, I would.

Very good.

I think I'd lose myself.

Mm.

You really fuckin' would.

Mm.

Fuck God.

It's me you need.

Mm.

No.

No! Fucking no!

Then you'll die with the
rest of them, Patriarch.

Oh! Fucker!

These fuckin' people!

Hello. I have a carriage waiting.

I'd rather you shoot me.

I doubt that.

That seems just pugnacious talk

to preserve one's dignity
in the face of defeat.

That sounds like you're not
allowed to shoot me. Hmm?

Hmm.

Annoying.

Good day, sir.

You again.

Shouldn't you be in school?

Outrageous!

Hello.

Wife.

You're a fucking liar.

Lookalike is a lie,
so occupational hazard.

Those things you said to the people.

You were there?

Ah, must have been hard on you.

Can I have some figs and ricotta?

No.

You could have a deal that
saves your life instead.

Is it "come home and we
live happily ever after

"like a partridge in a pear tree,

have a fuck, pretend it
was a mere lovers' tiff"?

Stop doing that.

Or they will come in and
cut your head from your body.

Oh. Toosh!

Don't do that!

You lied about me. About him.

- Raised a land of hate.
- I didn't have to do much.

They just don't fucking
like you, to be honest.

Even in your own court,
people don't love you.

You are going back
to Moscow with my men,

and you will reveal yourself
and surrender, as Pugachev,

the bad-breathed Cossack.

Oh, that's harsh.

I mean, they brought me
tuna, what could I do?

You will then be caged and taken from

village to village to tell your story

and make them embarrassed
they followed you.

My husband will have his name back.

Hmm.

Or I could choose to die.
That would fuck you up.

I don't think you'd choose that.

That's the difference
between you and me.

I'm gonna die by the knife sometime,

that's how it is for people like me.

So why not die at the
height of my infamy,

having fucked up the empress and trashed

the good name of a fucking arsehole?

Because you both would've killed
me and thrown my body to the pigs,

while you kissed and made up that night.

I was sorry about that.

Hmm. The thing is, kill me or
don't, they'll still come for you.

They do love me.

The walls fuckin' shook
with my hold on them.

You felt their love for me.

Hmm?

Maybe running this country's my destiny.

Hmm.

- Synced and corrected by naFraC -
- www.addic7ed.com -

He really planned all
these breakfasts in advance?

Crazy.

So annoyed they didn't let me kill him.

Oh, shut up, Maxim!

Poor fucking guy. He just
wanted a chance at a new life.

Who wouldn't want a
chance at a new life?

What if he talks, Marial? About you.

Then you'll have a different life.

Then he talks. I'm not
going to be scared anymore.

He's a troublesome, mouthy peasant
who someone else now gets to kill.

Could you finish my shoes?

I'm upset and I don't trust the staff.

Hugo's still there.

Fucker.

Gonna follow me to Grigor.

Me! Can we chat?

Out, needy dormouse.

Actually, go get my gun, Petra.

Just where I was going.

Look, been waiting out there all night.

A few thoughts.

You're a stunning, beautiful,

scheming liar

who hasn't been fucked in a while

and so has a little edge
that is even more attractive.

- I wanna work with you.
- I want to watch blood spurt from your eye.

The way you say it, so do I.

Oww! Fuck.

Can we get some tea, Petra?

This is what I've seen,
because I have been watching.

You're an opportunist.

You hate her and try
to cause her problems.

But don't you want more?

All of it, I say.

And you can help me, can you?

There are only two people in
this country with king experience,

and you're lookin' at one of them.

So do you wanna bring her down or not?

Of course, I don't. I love
her, treasonous Swedish prick.

Great. So you do.

Pugachev.

Her choices being: tell
everyone she killed Peter,

or try and explain who
the fuck Pugachev was,

or kill him, creating a martyr and
a vacuum at the top of an uprising.

All bad.

We add in the general sense that

she's in some kind of suicidal malaise,

and we have a chance.

Grigor has Paul.

And I think you know where he is and
don't want me following you there.

You're really taking a
big risk here, saying this.

I know, but it's that kind
of day, where lives change.

You know it's mine and Agnes'
wedding anniversary today?

- Who cares?
- Thirty-six years.

What?

- You only look...
- Thirty-seven?

I am 37.

Royal marriage. Married at one.

I can see you as a queen.

What are you saying?

Get Paul, ordain Paul,

and you marry Paul.

I know! It's amazing!

There is an uprising sitting in Moscow,

and in a while, they will realize

they do not have a
leader, but they need one.

We can take the whole country...

Fuck.

I've... I've been a king.

We'd... love it.

Ah, c... fuck, you sedated the tea.

Of course, I did, genius.

Fuck.

Good night, translucent Swedish idiot.

Great idea, though.

The important thing,
Maxim, is to ask yourself

what will bring peace to your heart.

Would you suggest prayer?

Or I do enjoy tennis. Maybe that.

Well, tennis never hurt.

I just become enraged when
I don't get what I want.

You have to float out of your
body, float above yourself,

and add in the context of
a world beyond yourself.

- Hmm.
- However...

there are moments in a man's
life he knows when to pray,

when to play tennis...

and when to act to preserve one's life.

Good advice.

What is it with you, kid?

Call me Maxim.

Morning.

I want a job.

A job? Doing what?

You're not a political person.

Oh, really? I gave you the idea for

the coup which got you on the throne.

Seems political.

What about chief advisor?

Seems vague and probably
doesn't involve reading?

Do you remember?

Did I have a sense of destiny before
or after you had the coup idea?

Because I feel like maybe I made it up

after to kind of make me believe in it.

Um, you arrived delusional
about almost everything.

But when did I say it?

Um... um...

I suggested "Kill him,"

and you said, "I knew
I had a destiny here."

"I thought it was love,
maybe it's Russia itself."

- I said "maybe"?
- Who the fuck knows?

Let's focus on my job. I need something.

Cannot just be married to an
11-year-old and arrange his shoes.

After last night I've never felt more...

- Hated?
- And German.

A foreigner.

So many lies.

We're not gonna talk
about my job, are we?

At least I will reclaim Peter for Paul.

I need Pugachev to make this deal.

Um, Pugachev's a
massive liar, by the way.

I just said that.

♪ Buongiorno ♪

Who's that?

A Castrati. Famously
great fuck. Seedless, too.

Forget all that. Do you know
what? This is a great day.

You have never led, as you,

without Peter on your back,
in your head, or up your bum...

Marial.

The point is, the coup is finally done.

Pretend for me.

- It's day one.
- Marial.

Just do it!

For what would it have
been like without him,

if he had been dead that first day?

Other than I would've missed
the great love of my life?

Who perverted your rule?
Yes. Other than that.

Morning, Empress.

What a day!

Boy, are the people excited!

You look excited too.
What joy you will bring.

Day one!

Here we go!

As your chief advisor and
founding member of the coup,

I, for one, am pretty
upbeat about the day.

Exactly.

Such happiness. How will you lead?

Go forth. Let us discover.

I will lead with a lightness of heart

and joy for the task,

bringing naivete and
delusion to all that I do.

Your seat, Empress.

Well, gosh, I'm overwhelmed.

I'm sure it will go oh-so-well, though.

- Yours?
- Yes, Empress.

Uh, may I? I am Nikolai Shostakich,
the royal astronomer.

I have a royal astronomer?

You hired me in the big science hire

at the start of your reign, remember?

Seems so long ago.

Yes. We have never met.

I will talk fast and to the point,

in case I am to be ejected by guards,

as, uh, sometimes happens to me for a

variety of reasons not worth going into.

There is a comet coming.

A comet is a, uh, disturbance.

A hole that tears in the sky, leaving
a, a stream of light behind it.

Beyond the moon, a form of
dust and ice compact together

to make a, a, uh, ball!

Uh, no, not a ball. A, a, a fist!

A fist of power and light that shoots

through the solar
system and passes us by.

Every fucking 75 years,
this comet, the same one,

swings round and races through
the sky again, on a loop.

And it's the only one, the only
one we can see without a telescope,

and it passes by the Earth
just enough so we can see it.

And in a few days, it passes
over... wait for it... Russia!

- Amazing.
- Yeah! And an opportunity.

I suddenly thought...
w... thought last night.

Should've thought earlier.

"I could kick you, Nikolai!"

- Loving this day.
- Fascinating.

But I digress.

The people have always viewed the
heavens as just that, God's domain.

The unknowable. A mystery.

And the Church have
used that fear and awe.

But if we tell the people in
advance, send charts and telescopes,

and show that by way of science
and reason the heavens are knowable!

Man and woman can know them,
track them, and explain them!

And also maybe send up
a balloon with cannons

and just blow it out of the sky!

Or at least change its orbit.

No, forget that last part, as it's
possibly not true, and unfeasible,

and I shouldn't have said it.

I even said to myself walking here,

"Don't say the balloon
cannon thing, Nikolai."

But couldn't help yourself?

Exactly. So...

can we do this? Can we...

- What?
- Clear breach of security,

leading to a clear breach in his skull.

No! Fuck!

- You!
- Shit.

- A duel, sir.
- What is going on?

- Private matter.
- Uh, dueling's illegal, is that right?

Yes, it is!

And who fucking shot Pugachev?

We're dueling! Greatest
respect, Empress.

Even though the statement
seemed not to contain any.

Who shot him, I said?

- Maxim has claimed credit.
- What?

I will beat him like a drum that bleeds.

Empress, we are agreed, the comet?

There's a comet coming?

- I, I should probably go.
- What's the "probably" part?

See you on the field.

Who shot him?

- What happened?
- I had a plan.

Maxim. And now we need a new plan.

I just heard.

Shit! What do we do now?

To think I once rode him

and he uttered desperately
foul oaths in my ear as I came.

Uh, from memory, it was something like,

"I'll rip open your
ribcage with my bare hands

"and fuck you in your windpipe

as I give your foie
gras liver a hand job."

I mean, out of context,
bizarre, and yet, in the moment,

I mean, I came like a sudden blizzard.

But enough reminiscing.

Let's focus on "what now."

We're in a very dangerous place.

Catherine?

So I guess the surrender
tour as Pugachev is done with.

He's dead. It's over now, isn't it?

No! Quite the opposite.

You've thousands massed
and a vacuum at the top.

One group massed
behind one man, easy to fight.

They splinter into
disparate random groups,

you're fighting chaos,
or, or someone else rises.

That's very pessimistic, Petrov.

And yet accurate.

We need to decide what
to do before they do.

Even word of his death will
light a wick on something.

They don't know he's dead at this
point. That gives us the upper hand.

My opinion, we need to mass
troops, bring the body...

Interesting. Empress,
you need to own his death.

He being Peter the Third.

You need to come out
and say you killed Peter.

Ideally with the body, and then

probably say something
along the lines of,

"Peter is vanquished by my own hand."

And then just let it rain cannonballs.

And then you've taken it out, you've
also ended Peter the Great's line,

and now you have the country.

Ended Peter the Great's line? How
dare you, Archie! There is Paul!

Is there? Hasn't been
at the buffet lately.

We're not doing any of that!

Then what are we doing? Because
we fucking need to do something.

Fuck! Fuck!

This place!

Catherine!

Hmm, I call that inconclusive.

I call it a petulant response

to a massive challenge that brings
into question her competency.

And I call that treason.

But do you call it inaccurate?

No, didn't think so.

We need to hold our
nerve and hold together!

Yeah!

He will be back. And not only
that, I can tell you this!

We will retake the palace and
restore Peter as the head of Russia!

Huzzah!

You're waiting for him.

Fucking hell, Tatyana.

He told me he wanted to
rip the dress from my body,

but we left in a hurry, so
I don't have many dresses.

I thought this was easier.

Well, he hasn't come back, so
stand down and put some clothes on.

I don't know where he is, but that hall

is full of maniacs who are ready to go.

Where is he?

- With someone else, probably.
- Hurtful.

You lying here naked for
another man, however, is fine.

We always said we'd let each other
evolve as we needed to as humans.

Or would you like our marriage to

literally choke off our personal growth?

Seems a difficult either/or.

You need to keep those madmen out

there under control until he gets back.

They do keep looking at me like,

"You're his best
friend, you should know."

People are riled up.

You just gonna lay here?

He's got to come back at some point.

- Want anything?
- Oh, I could use an apple.

Hi. Sorry.

Uh, inappropriate entry
to your private quarters,

uh, but we have some time issues.

Uh, the comet, may I do it?

A brilliant idea

and a good distraction for
the country from your troubles.

Also, sorry about the duel.

I know it's illegal,
but I'm kind of in it.

My power over my own
court is clearly waning.

You slept with Petrov's fiancée?

I have this thing that
happens to me and women

when I talk to them
and we end up fucking.

I feel exactly the same way about it.

It is laughable, not how
I see myself, and yet...

You are an accidental womanizer.

That's a good way of putting it.

What's it like to run Russia?

I mean, that's crazy.

I run an office with three
people and it is a wrangling

of drunk, insane cats who spit poison

and speak in whiny hieroglyphic codes.

Not that we're not doing a great
job, we are, so don't cut our funding,

but it's just... complicated.

These humans... "I
don't get paid enough!"

"There are no biscuits!" "Why's
Anatole get the window with sun?"

Russia must be...

I digress. Bad habit,
along with overreach.

But an office with 80
million humans. Insane.

Your head must explode.

My head, my heart, everything has.

How do you do it?

I'll tell you a secret.

I don't know.

I try to be mean, be nice,
be friends, be a tyrant.

Still, everyone's at me.

Probably why I spend all
my time looking at the sky.

It's happening, as you said.

What?

Fuck me.

What?

- You heard.
- I did, I just...

Want to hear it again?

I-I'd love to hear it again.

Walk over here, pin me to the wall,

lift up my skirt, and fuck me.

On my way.

Huzzah!

Stop doing that! Walking in on me!

On us! On Peter and me to
see if we would make a baby!

You can go, young man.

The Empress, assuming no lemon top,

needs a douche bath of nettle
and snake venom immediately.

I walk in unannounced as it is the
best way to see where people are,

to catch them as they are.

Like seeing a squirrel startled
suddenly as it sucks on a nut.

And whilst it is,

on a personal level, thrilling
to see you back fucking,

on a "we're mired in a national crisis,"

I do begin to question your priorities.

Maybe start fucking people after you

save the country from the uprising.

I had saved it and solved it!

Peter's name, everything!

And things changed.

And I will work out what to do alone!

- When?
- Stop talking to me.

When I know what to do, that's when!

Not good enough. Enough
tears and weakness.

No, not enough, because
if you wring me wet,

nothing will come out
but tears and weakness.

It is just grief.

Can you just go?

No, I can't.

- Elizabeth!
- Catherine.

- Guards!
- Guards!

Remove her!

Dimitri and Alexei, you touch me
now, you will never touch me again.

Oh, my God.

You may go, but later...

I have no grip on anyone.

My own head of the army
is doing an illegal duel,

oblivious to my wishes.

They are burning effigies
all over the country.

My name inspires hate, not change.

And I am rotten with
grief throughout my being.

And I am becoming sure...

that I have told myself, and others,

a delusional story that has...

brought Russia to its knees.

I know it feels like you are broken.

I am broken.

Not all the way through.

You just fucked a boy against a wall.

That was strange.

Suddenly, I just thought,
"I want to fuck him."

Nothing else.

I was just present and wanted fucking.

Oh, no. Now I feel terrible.

Like you took a step away from Peter?

Yes, and I don't want to.

You need to.

And if I can't?

I know you're in pain and clouds
of confusion fill your head,

but you now need to stand up.

Or?

You know the "or."

Someone else will.

You?

Yes. Me.

Perhaps it is as you said,
my destiny and not yours.

Perhaps you weren't it. I was wrong.

I am it, and you were merely
a pretty stepping stone

for me to wake up and see that.

Jesus.

Because the world burns
a person down many times

and you shake off the ashes
and you walk into the next fire

knowing that the fire never
gets to the core of you.

That is me, and that
is who is needed now.

Tomorrow, if I sit down in
that seat, I don't get up.

For anyone.

I love you.

And I you.

Where is she?

Weren't you going to
follow her to Grigor?

I might've made a small misjudgment.

Or not. We'll see how it plays out.

I'm hoping the idea sets in her
head and she sees she needs us.

You decided something without me?

I added Georgina to the plan.

A disappointing and, I
suspect, idiotic betrayal.

Let's assume George gets the baby, hmm?

And realizes we're the next step.

Well, let's have the next step
after the next step's ready.

Mm.

I knew you'd come here.

The three of us always came
here. No one can find you.

Where's Paul?

Grigor!

Safest place. No one looks up.

Get him down.

The birds have been a
hassle, and there was a bear.

- A bear?
- Furry.

He said "furry" after we
shot the bear. What a kid. Eh!

Hey. Ooh.

Squirrel coats. Matching.

Are you mad?

You clearly are.

It's fine.

I'm here to look after
you, as always, my darling.

Let's take him back.

He is not safe in court. They're
coming for him and all of us.

He's not safe here either in a
fucking box in a tree, Grigor.

We can do this together.

We always wanted a child.

- No, we didn't.
- We said it would distract us from Peter.

It would re-energize our marriage.

- I love Marial.
- You don't!

And it's very annoying
that you keep saying it!

I do. I...

She hates Peter, so
it's hard and confusing,

because I feel pain at her
absence in my ribcage area.

My head cries much at the loss of her.

And then Peter...

I can't even feel anything.

But... "Paul is all."

That's my new motto. We say
it all the time, don't we Paul?

- Paul is all!
- I agree. Paul is all.

He should be emperor,
and... we can make it so.

- What?
- I'm good at this.

At what? I'm, I'm not following.

Politics.

I think by pretending to
change, I actually did.

If this goes the way it's clearly going,

we might need a new leader behind Paul.

And that's you?

What the fuck?

You?

Why not me?

You're not them.

They're not them.

No one's fucking them until
they decide they're fucking them.

This country can be
changed for the better.

For Peter.

For our dearest friend
to keep his line alive.

I'm not helping you
kill her. He loved her.

He loved us, too. For longer.

Do it for him.

Huh.

Hey.

She's fine, Paul.

See? Look at her up-and-down chest.

That's called breathing.

But always be listening for
footsteps behind you in the forest.

Oh-ho-ho-ho.

I remember these.

We did all of them, didn't we?

That one.

The wheelbarrow with fruit!

Mm!

I loved it.

You handsome savage.

You delectable, sexual hooligan.

You look unsure. You
know I can't stand that.

I'm pondering.

Not you, you're all instinct. Kill her!

Impale her on a large pole
and ride her round Moscow.

Take this fucking
place, Paul on your knee.

I seem to recall that
you looked into my dying

but beautiful-as-the-deep-blue-sea eyes

and promised to protect my line.

Things change. I have evolved.

Our love is eternal.

You're dead, everything's
eternal for you.

- I love her.
- You love me more.

Uh...

Now you're needling me!

I remember it.

Then torrid sex ensues.

Just remove her

before you're trampled
into black-and-blue paste

by rampaging ex-Cossacks,

cross-eyed with liquor,
buzzing with rage,

and with a need to feel blood spray
in their eyes to make them happy.

Jesus.

I know, powerful word pictures
that can transform moments.

One of my many gifts, you'll recall.

I do.

And having no empathy for anyone.

Another gift. Like you were with Peter.

Oh, who drowns on their fucking horse?

That kid.

You heartless monster.

Mm, you sassy enchantress.

I'm not doing that. I'm calling
you a fucking heartless monster.

Oh.

You know you have to take the throne.

Or you'll fucking die
and lose everything.

Shh!

Did you just shush Peter the Great?

You're not choosing her.

Maybe I'm choosing something else.

What I want instead of what you want.

Hmm, you contrary,
argumentative strumpet.

You deaf, blind oaf.

God, I could tear all your
clothes off with my teeth.

Except you can't.

You can just...

go.

Oh.

This duel. I probably shouldn't do it.

Undermines the empress
at this delicate point.

She seems like a drunk
on the end of a jetty.

As humans sometimes are when they
have their hearts crushed by fate.

Hmm. I'll call it off.

No. Do it.

She must stand up and lead...

or not, if she can't.

It's a bit like when I was a boy.

Had all these apples,

and I wouldn't give 'em away,
or eat them, or make cider.

For the life of me, I couldn't
decide, and then they just rotted,

and I looked like the
fucking idiot I was.

I think it's more like a
young woman lost at sea,

throwing up into the ocean

due to prevailing
winds and insect bites,

hoping some friendly
sharks will guide her home.

She must find her compass, but
she's been blinded by a raven.

And if she eventually falls in,
the sharks will just have to...

Be sharks?

Yes.

And the army and I will need
to be marching in figure eights

and hexagons as one.

Right. Got it.

Hi. Sorry, but it's a bit urgent.

- Hugo, what're you do...
- You know what I smell out there?

I smell what I smelt in Sweden.

Implosion.

And I do feel bad about
Peter and stealing the army.

And as you're about to be
gargling on your own blood,

I thought I'd give you some advice.

You need to run.

I can't run.

That's what I thought.

Out of some misguided sense
of obligation, destiny.

"It's my favorite desk,
I don't wanna leave it."

But Paris, Rome.

You tell me ex-kings and queens
aren't gonna be fêted there.

And the food, and the art.

I see a new life.

We'll have a carriage ready
at 9:00 in the courtyard.

Get Paul,

or tell me where he is and I'll
get him, we get in, and we go.

I'll leave that with you.

Make the right decision,
or don't and die.

Die, bitch!

Grigor.

What are you doing?

You're a sight.

A sight I need in my eyes.

What do you want?

Other than clearly, and
also logically, my body.

Marry me.

But... you hated me, as I hate Peter.

Know that I, I always will.

I do know. But I need you.

In the forest, so quiet,

I felt this empty space in me,

the sounds of the forest
reverberating through it,

bears and birds and bees,

and you are what I need in that space.

You're the piece I miss.

Right.

- Really?
- I want a new life.

You and me.

I want a new life, too.

Great!

We go to my estate, we hole
up there, we put in defenses,

and we just be together.

You, me, and Paul.

Oh, what do you mean Paul?

Uh, I have to bring him up,
for Peter. I realize that now.

We can do it together.
Maybe have our own kids.

Be good for him to have a brother.

I'm not bringing up his
fucking son! Are you mad?

I know you hate him,
but that's actually good.

Paul will learn the
complexity of human life.

And we will raise him
to take back his throne.

Or not. Peter didn't want that,
so maybe we'll let that play out.

Don't have to decide now.

Marial, get dressed. We should go.

I could do with a bath, actually.

My teeth are fucking
blueberry fuzz as well.

Fuck.

You sad man.

You beautiful, sad man.

Why is Grigor in my bath?

I thought this sick liaison was done.

Hi, Maxim. Just resting a minute.

- You're rending my garments!
- You fucking killed Pugachev!

Now all hell has broken loose,
you foppy little monster.

Archie and I have it in hand. Relax.

We will be safe as others die.

We have the touch.

No.

No "you and Archie."

No.

Enough!

In terms of the fact that
you were about to marry her,

you-you could just look at
it as, as you dodged a bullet.

You could look at
trying to dodge a bullet

but failing in about one minute.

She wasn't right for you.

Disloyal, for a start, and, and
was definitely the aggressor.

- We were friends.
- Yeah, and I felt terrible!

Every, every thrust was like
a dagger in my own heart.

Jesus Christ! Really?

I just want you to know how bad I felt.

At one point, she took me in her mouth

and I was staring at your portrait
on the other side of the room.

You know, the one with the red setter?

- I love that picture.
- Yeah.

And I was like, "This is really bad.

He shouldn't be marrying her."

Can we hurry this along
before I just shoot him

in the back of the head
at point-blank range?

- All right, let's go!
- Huzzah!

Ah, wonderful, I'm not too late.

Empress, this is between us.

Also made illegal by me.

But these are Russian rules and you
seem to want to live this way, yes?

Huzzah!

- In fact, I would like to second for Nikolai.
- You what?

- That's ridiculous.
- And yet within the rules?

It is.

Great. Nikolai, go stand over there.

I'd like to argue with you, but...

I'm the empress and you're also
a coward who does not want to die?

Well expressed.

Begin. Explain to me how...

I can't shoot you.

Hmm. Not my problem.

I can shoot you.

- Great.
- And begin!

Ten paces, turn, and then shoot.

One.

Two.

Three.

You all live by Catherine
the Great's rules.

Understand that or leave court!

Petrov! State Room, in
an hour. We need to plan.

I'll be there!

Oh, that's my nose. Yes.

- Give him here.
- You need to go home, Grigor.

He needs me!

No, he doesn't.

You need him.

But she needs him more.

You take Paul from me, then I
will one day come and find you

and kill you in...

a very weird way.

Go home, Grigor.

I don't really have one.

I don't really care.

You will be emperor, as
your grandfather intended.

And I will live by your
side, a benevolent shadow

and guide through this court.

He's all right, Paul.

See his chest moving up and down?

Aw.

Let's go find Uncle Archie.

Look who I found.

How marvelous.

- Tatyana?
- Yes!

Oh, it's you.

Can you get me another apple?

Oh. And is it more
alluring if I'm on my front

so he can just take me from behind?

Paul's coming with George.
And I'd say Grigor as well.

- And Pugachev?
- No sign.

But I'm thinking, so what?

We have the rest of us working
in Peter's name, and Paul.

I have them eating out
of my fucking hands.

We just pretend he's sending me orders.

They don't know.

Look at you.

You're fizzing.

And you got me an apple.

Come here.

Mm.

I was looking for you.

To tell me what?

How horrible he was again?

I know what he did to me,

that in some ways he
was a terrible person,

terrible leader, all of it.

How he thwarted me. How I
contorted myself to fit with him.

But I loved him, and the two
are carried here in my heart.

Understand that.

I do.

You understand this, though.

I have something to offer.

I have to have my hands
on something that matters.

And I am someone you need.

What's that?

Letters between Archie and Pugachev.

He lit this fire, and
he got Maxim to kill him.

I've been given a dark view of humanity.

You know why?

Because bad shit happens
to me all the time,

and people are pricks,
and that's why you need me!

Archie.

Let's go.

And so by the powers
vested in me by our Lord God,

I channel his powers into this child

to do God's work as he one
day becomes Russia's leader.

This is very long. Hurry
through this, Archie.

Let's get to the wedding.

- God has touched and...
- Oh, good, doggie!

In the middle of it. Sorry we're late.

Fuck. Ignore them.

And yet let's all accept
we're part of this, hmm?

- Fine.
- Fine!

God has touched and chosen you,

Paul Petrovich Illyich
Vasilyev Alekseyvich Romanov.

Also very long.

- Can you just...
- Just say amen!

- You say amen, I put a hole in you!
- Oh, shit.

Hugo, don't fucking
move! You're about to die.

Put him down, Archie.

He won't shoot you. Say it.

I don't like the look
in his eye, to be honest.

Good analysis. Put the
baby down and walk away.

Fucker!

You are the leader,
the one God has chosen. Amen.

- Amen! Yes!
- Archie!

The empress has requested the
patriarch's presence. Immediately.

Must dash.

Well... half done.

It's all for Peter and Paul, darling.

We're done, you and I.

Well, full disclosure,

I am actually interested
in someone else long-term...

so agreed.

Feels strangely right.

You sat.

I did.

Empress, I would like to apologize.

My blood's loyalty to
you overheats at times,

and I act for your best
interests out of my love for you.

And also, I'm a killer.

That's Maxim.

Sit, Maxim.

Empress.

Archie. Hello.

I'd like to thank you for Pugachev.

I'm not sure I...

Archie, don't insult
me with faux denials

and the teary clutching of rosary
beads and bleatings of innocence.

I was in a haze of grief that
didn't allow me to see it.

But you were always the one
coming to me with a solution.

I recently shot a man in
the head instead of myself,

and it seems to have
cleared something for me.

I see with a blazing clarity.

Right. So?

I asked you to school me in savvy
political dealings, did I not?

Uh, you did.

It has been a good
lesson, and I'm grateful.

All your own work, or others involved?

Uh, the gratitude belongs...

all to me.

Out of love for you.

I never meant it to get
out of hand like this,

but let's clean the rest and
show Russia your immense power.

Let's.

The Church will come
out across the country

and say they have asked God for a sign

that Catherine the Great
is Russia's destiny.

You will tell them the day and the
time to look into the sky to see it.

The comet?

- Exactly.
- Love it!

They need a story. This
will be one piece of it.

Marial has the proclamation
for you to issue.

What happened to you?

The empress shot me.

Huzzah.

- Maxim, I need a general.
- I'm sorry, what?

- I'm ready.
- Oh, come on. He's four.

I want you to get the credit
for the killing of Pugachev.

So you will go on a speaking tour

and tell the tale of the
Cossack Pugachev's death.

After that, there is a
military academy in Vladivostok.

You will go there, learn
the craft, and return to me.

Vladivostok?

Also where the finest
tailors in Russia reside.

Interesting. But, Marial...

For the good of Russia, I have agreed.

- I will visit often.
- Yearly seems enough.

And Velementov, you will go south,

to tell the tale of the
death through the ice.

Petrov, you will go to Moscow

and claim the death of Peter
the Third and unleash...

Please say a wave of cannonballs.

- Cannonballs.
- Brilliant.

Of course he gets fucking cannonballs.

Marial, you will prepare a
statement that Peter the Third

is dead by hemorrhoids,

also a different one saying smallpox,

also a different one saying he was
killed while fighting the uprising.

Also that I am Peter
the Great's daughter.

Love my new job.

Everyone will get a story they want.

And I will get whichever
I need whenever I need it.

Oh, Archie, one more thing.

Guards!

Take him, tear his
cassock from his body,

rip his beard from his
face, and bury him alive.

And then, in a semicircle,
piss on the grave.

- What?
- Now!

I thought you understood!

Wait!

The Church has half a
million serfs it owns.

You're going to sign this and free them.

The fuck I will.

Also, ten million acres,

25 acres per serf, which
they will be awarded.

The country can watch a grand experiment

without the nobles wanting
to bathe in my blood.

I hope to shame them
into freeing the serfs.

Sign it or die.

Right.

Fine.

Thanks.

Fucking let go of me!

Oh, you thought they
were going to release you?

Sweet. Take him now.

- Catherine.
- You fucking played me!

Consider me schooled.

Cut his head off and bring it to me.

Head off. Will do.

That was all very thrilling.

Your seat.

I thought you weren't getting up.

It was an ultimatum.

Had to sound dramatic or
it's not a good ultimatum.

You may go.

Husband.

It's a good day to kill an empress.

Let it rip.

Oh, fuck.

Fucker!

Destiny didn't do it.

I did it.

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