Her Most Serene Royal Highness Ingrid Birgitte Maria, Duchess of Bergkvara and beloved only daughter of His Majesty, Gustav of Sweden, stood on the deck of the ship that carried her closer and closer to the port of call of her destination. St. Petersberg. Mother Russia.<br/><br/>Her new home.<br/><br/>Waiting on those cold shores for her was the man she would be bound to for life, Alexei Romanov, one of the bravest and most feared Russian generals in the long history of that country.<br/><br/>She was not particularly upset, nor was she particularly happy about her fate. As a princess, she had always known that her destiny was to be married to another royal family for the sake of politics. That was the price you paid for being royalty, and having known that all her life, she was quite reconciled to the fact that there would be no romantic love in her life.<br/><br/>However, she had at least hoped she could respect her husband...and in one sense, she surely respected young Lord Romanov for his military prowess and his unflagging defense of his country. In another sense, though, she was more than a little dismayed by the tales of his wild, unflagging passion for seducing women. Having seen his handsome countenance in the miniature sent by the Czar to her father, she could see why he had such ease and success with seduction. She could only hope it would abate somewhat after their marriage. Every royal husband dallied to some extent, she had learned from her father's own experience, and from the history of other royal families. She just hoped that Alexei would at least give their marriage a few weeks or even months before he started seeking other amusement.<br/><br/>Wearing a sky blue velvet cloak trimmed with ermine over a pale cream silk gown, she stood straight and proud on the deck as the ship pulled into the dock. The sunlight glinted off her pale gold hair and made her white skin almost translucent. Her expression was schooled to a cool hauteur, even though her heart hammered inside her chest at the thought of stepping foot onto her new homeland.<br/><br/>"Snegurochka!" the townspeople gathered on the docks whispered. "A snow maiden is come to us!"<br/><br/>The coarse shore hands grinned among themselves and exchanged knowing glances.<br/><br/>"Lord Romanov's gonna freeze his dick off in that one!"<br/><br/>"Da, Igor. No wonder she came here to our frozen wasteland. She'd melt if she married an Italian!"<br/><br/>"Pretty, but too thin. She'll freeze to death. Me, I like 'em with some extra meat on the bones. Keeps a man's balls warm!"<br/><br/>"Crushes 'em, too, if you're not careful!"<br/><br/>"Shut up!"<br/><br/>Coarse laughter erupted among the men as they prepared to unload the trunks and trunks of gifts and personal effects the princess had brought with her. The more intangible wedding gifts, such as the enormous dowry her father had promised to the Czar and the political alliances had already been transacted and handled by a few pieces of paper and several messengers back and forth over the icy sea. Gustav's gift to his daughter had been to bestow the duchy of Bergkvara on her, making her a duchess of Sweden as well as a princess of Russia.<br/><br/>Ingrid swallowed twice as she felt the ship lurch as it bumped against the side of the dock and the deck hands and shore hands hurried to put the ramp to the ship's side. This was it. She was now officially alone in a new country, as a princess' maids and companions from her homeland were not allowed to accompany her into her new country, lest they be spies or distract her from becoming totally acculturated to her new home.<br/><br/>This was her home now, and tall men on the fierce horses was her future husband.<br/><br/>Ingrid swallowed very hard and tried not to faint.