Isabella McGarrie copyright all rights reserved 252 pages, trade paperback A man sacrifices his own daughter and the sanity of his wife to save the royal daughter of his unrequited love. Spanning continents, cultures and decades here is a story as compelling and colorful in scope as its many characters. A child ignorant of her royal heritage, grows into a headstrong young woman protected yet coveted by her guardian. Losses, gains, loves and decades of life reveal her final responsibility. This is a work of fiction. Any similarity between a character and any real person is purely coincidental. Any similarity between a scene and a real event is strictly coincidental. Period slang is for authenticity and not intended for offense. All rights reserved by Rown Press, Inc.. No portion of this excerpt may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including any information storage or retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher. Forward ... Prior to 1917 the Principality of Barania existed on a land formation separating Lake Ladoga and the Gulf of Finland. Northwest of St. Petersburg (later known as Petrograd and Leningrad), south of Vyborg, and directly east of Helsinki, Finland, the entire area of the principality was no more than twenty-five square miles, five on the sea and five inland. Barania’s origin linked closely to Russia’s. For centuries, assorted tribes existed in a loose, multinational state that spread over Eastern Europe and northern Asia until approximately 1480 when a sovereign tsardom began governing centrally from Moscow. Ivan IV the Terrible declared war on old enemies, the ancient aristocracy, and the church; with the exception of the Soturalovs, a Finnish-descended tribe and Barania’s ruling warlords, the tsar effectually broke the strength of his opposition. The Soturalovs proved fiercely independent and by 1621 they had successfully established a diminutive, but separate realm. At certain points in history, notably during Peter the Great’s reign in the late seventeenth century and Catherine the Great’s reign in the eighteenth century, the House of Soturalov maintained a strong army. This was bravado on Barania’s part rather than a serious obstacle to these two ambitious Russian rulers. Both coveted Barania with its prime coastal access, but both also concluded that Baranian trade expertise was more valuable to Russia than the occupation of a perfect Western harbor populated with antagonistic inhabitants. Tsars, then, respected Barania’s ruling prinssi, and a mutually agreeable economic dependence resulted. While the Russian empire languished as a feudal realm, tiny Barania evolved into a maritime society of global traders, providing a vital link to the outside world for their essentially landlocked neighbor. Underdeveloped Russia had valuable resources to market - coal, petroleum, iron, chromium, copper, bauxite, silver, salt, caviar, amber, timber, gold, ermine, mink, sable, sealskin, marten, beaver, Arctic fox, lynx - but no viable means to sell them. Barania became their exporter and in time, their chief importer. The alliance suited both countries. By the late 19th century, the population of the principality averaged around nine thousand with most Baranians involved in trade or professional positions. Due to the country’s limited size, merchants did not maintain their own shipping fleets, but contracted with Finnish and Swedish companies to provide transport. National train lines to Petrograd and Vyborg linked the principality with the Russian interior. A minority of Baranians were fishermen; a segment of the citizenry provided services to the affluent families and the aristocracy. Taxes were levied for the operation of state only; the House of Soturalov had private resources to subsidize their personal lifestyles, and the family ranked as one of the wealthiest monarchies in Europe. Because of perpetual contact with other cultures, Baranians absorbed innovative ideas, and the country boasted 100% literacy. The contact also kept Baranian stock infused with new blood since mariners brought home brides from other countries; as a further consequence, aside from a recurrence of silver blonde hair, Baranian features were diverse. The reigning prinssi headed a council of major merchants who equitably governed the principality. A small guard unit enforced the law. Baranians had grown complacent with their big neighbor. Until the Russian Revolution, prosperity and autonomy were taken for granted ... Ulrika Chapter One July 1907 She still rides as well as any man, Vitaumir thought with admiration. No side-saddle for Ulrika Nyandova, and no hat or amber combs to restrain the glorious hair, although she heeded propriety in her choice of habit. The circular cut divided skirt had a panel, which buttoned after dismounting to conceal the division to the front. Nudging his stallion to pick up pace, the young man gained on his companion. Ulrika reined sharply, and her gelding’s hooves dug into the wet sand of the Baranian shoreline. Turning, she laughed and called, “You have slowed, Vitaumir Zakarhov! And you show a plain lack of competitive spirit! With great irritation I have always been the one who trails behind! Are you humoring me?” He halted along side her. “I am merely reveling in the magnificent sight of your red hair whipping about in the wind. It has nothing to do with speed or some foolish need to win.” “Foolish?” Ulrika’s green eyes flashed. “Is this a result of your British education? Has the desire for contest been subdued in favor of more refined behavior?” “Ha!” Vitaumir leaned from his saddle and boldly clasped her about the waist. “I have missed you so! Kiss me, Rika.” Instead of complying as she had in earlier years, the young woman presented her cheek. Vitaumir paused, surprised by her attitude. They had not only kissed with ardor on numerous occasions, but before his departure fourteen months ago for the university in England, she had permitted him to touch her breasts. From his earliest memory as a three-year-old watching her as a toddler taking her first steps, he had loved Ulrika Nyandova. His father was a fur broker, hers an art dealer-exporter. Both men served on the Council. Their families lived within a mile of each other in massive stone mansions on rocky promontories overlooking the Gulf. When his education was completed, they would marry. It was an understanding. “You are not delighted to see me?” He teased. Shyness was not one of Ulrika’s traits. Perhaps she was catching a grippe and did not wish to infect him. Her smile was kind, but not encouraging. “We are dear friends, Vitau, but we are also on the brink of adulthood. The familiarity is no longer permissible.” “What? What is this familiarity nonsense?” His hold tightened. “You and I, we will be hus ...” “No, I am promised to another.” Ulrika stared at him. Vitaumir’s shock rendered him speechless. “I am promised,” she repeated. “You are promised to me!” He shouted and attempted to kiss her. Ulrika struggled. “I am promised to The Prinssi! I am to wed Gerek!” “But we have always been ... ” “Release me,” she commanded. Slowly, Vitaumir removed his arm. “I have much affection for you, Vitau, but Gerek has made plain his intentions. I cannot refuse the ruler of our country, can I?” “Why not?” “You’re being silly,” she said sweetly. “I have Romanov blood on my mother’s side, but according to my father, Gerek’s choice of me is well considered because of my limited regal pedigree. Remember his four older siblings did not survive infancy, and the Polish princess who was his mother suffered poor health. She passed on when he was but seven. He has first cousins, but they are girls with German and Swedish fathers. The Soturalov line is tenuous and on his deathbed last year the old Prince cautioned Gerek that the royalty of Europe had tainted blood. He was to select for a bride a healthy commoner with good lineage, preferably Orthodox. His mother could never fully relinquish her Roman Catholic habits and was forever crossing herself the wrong way.” Ulrika smiled persuasively. “Oh, and I do have a fondness for him. Gerek makes me laugh and he so adores having a good time. If he desires me, then I have a duty to fulfill.” Vitaumir gazed at the roiling sea and jealously contemplated his rival. Three years his senior, Prince Gerek was a close friend of his older brother’s. A congenial fellow of average intelligence their current ruler liked horses and playing games. Vitaumir conceded that the man’s thick, silvery blond hair enhanced his attractiveness. His fine bones gave him certain handsomeness. Likely he appealed to women, but Gerek had no real spirit, no ... passion. Ulrika’s taffy red curls were like a badge of her spirit - bright, saucy, fervent ... he loved her. He loved her deeply. So what if Gerek was a prince. She could not marry another man! Vitaumir riveted on her. “Tell him about us. No matter how serious Gerek may think he is, he will understand about our relationship. There are many lovely Baranian girls. You are not the only one with a mix of royal Russian blood and patrician Baranian, if he must have such a mate. Better yet, since he has so great a concern for healthy blood, he should seek a commoner outside of Barania. If it is a question of faith, he could select a Fin, a Greek, a Serb ... why, any girl from an Eastern Orthodox community.” Ulrika said gently, “He has asked Father formally and Father has accepted. The Rite of Betrothal is set to take place between our Great Feasts in September, The Nativity of the Mother of God and The Exaltation of the Honorable and Life-giving Cross. The Office of the Crowning is planned for the week following Christmas.” “The sacraments of marriage so soon? You are eighteen!” She nodded resolutely. “I love you, Rika,” Vitaumir beseeched, “in my whole life, I will always love only you.” Ulrika took his hand and said sincerely, “I care so much about you, but I cannot refuse our Prince. Gerek has to be the choice for me. Please stay my friend and wish me well.” Vitaumir closed his eyes. The touch of her hand felt as if it reached as far as his heart and stabbed him. “Yes,” he mumbled, “yes. Friends it will be.” Ulrika’s expression was self-satisfied. The whole scene had gone just as she hoped. Vitaumir had always done her bidding and she had deemed that it might prove advantageous for her if she could retain him in such a capacity. A liaison with him would be too intense, too ... sexually demanding. It would require too much effort and would violate her inner being. Gerek would adore her without laying a heavy emphasis on passion, thus permitting her a separateness, which she needed to remain in control. More so, one of her children, specifically the eldest son, would become Prince of the Realm. The choice of a marriage partner had been easy. Keeping Vitaumir’s affection was a nice bonus.