Nikolai Petrov tried very, very hard not to smile. He permitted himself a small shrug instead and bowed his head. Still, it was very difficult not to smile at the young man he considered a second son to him.<br/><br/>"My lord," he said, his voice shaking slightly from laughter. "If you had known of this before, what campaign would you have suddenly created to drag me off on? Outer Siberia? Inner Mongolia? No, thank you, this old campaigner's bones don't need to be bounced around half the continent just so you can avoid marriage."<br/><br/>He nodded at the miniature of the Swedish princess on the desk. "She's very pretty. You will make beautiful babies."<br/><br/>He held open the door for Alexei, determined to follow him to his chambers to make sure that he actually changed into his formal regimental uniform for greeting his bride instead of making a run through one of the windows.<br/><br/>"Besides," he smirked. "If you have a baby, it may get Baba off your back!"