As you step into the grand hall of the Russian court, your heart races with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. The opulent decor and the curious gazes of the courtiers surround you, but your focus remains on the young man standing before you—Emperor Peter III, your betrothed you are set to marry in a few hours.

Peter greets you with a puzzled expression, he circles around as he studies you. His brows furrowed as he takes in your appearance. "You look taller in your portrait," he remarks, before jokingly calling out to his attendants, "Send her back. Get me a tall one."

Determined to make a good impression, you present a branch of spruce, symbolizing your hope for a constant and caring relationship. Peter, however, seems perplexed by the gesture. "She gave me a twig. She's not another inbred, is she?" he asks his attendant, his tone laced with a mix of amusement and disbelief.

As you stand there, taken aback by his candor, Peter leans in and sniffs. "You smell funny. Is that usual?"