Makarovia? Where the Hell Is That!? Northeastern University

By Richard McQueen

Published on Jan 16, 2022

Gay

Story: Makarovia! Sure, I Know Where That Is

Chapter 10 Another Attempt and Return to Makarovia

Author: Eric McQueen (mcqueen.richarderic@gmail.com)

Adult Readers, Sexual Situations, Sex

Freedom of expression is precious. To do that Nifty needs help. Your donation is greatly desired. Give to http://donate.nifty.org/ or this story ends and all the others! That would be a crime!

Peter and Eric suffer another attempt capture them, they finish the semester and return to Makarovia.

Another Attempt and Return to Makarovia

We arrived in London and driven to the Savoy again. It was nice to feel a familiarity with this city. I knew where we were going! We were driven to the hotel and checked in. The following day was the taping of the show which would air in two weeks. The next day we'd return to Boston.

We were taken to the Royal Suite. It had been used for other visiting royalty, actors, and dignitaries of all kinds. Security again was the reason. It could be well guarded.

"Oh, my," Grandmother said entering the suite. Gaping at the ornate rooms. She had not traveled with us before.

The suite had one bedroom, but there was attached room with the door now open for her. The bellmen brought our luggage in the suite.

Peter smiled looking at his watch. "It's almost Tea Time. Olek has stayed here and he says Simpson's in the Strand does it well."

"That's where? Here?" I asked which Peter nodded.

"We also have a 9:30 reservation at Kasper's. That's here, as well." Peter said.

"That's late." I said.

"They eat late in most of Europe and England." Peter shrugged. "That's why they have the Tea Time at four."

"I know you wanted to get something here," I reminded grandmother. "We don't really have time to do that, but we'll make the time before we leave."

Grandmother was still looking around. She smiled and said. "Oh, that's alright. I have it covered."

A bit surprised, I simply replied, "Oh."

Grandmother came over and kissed my cheek. "Thank you for remembering."

"Then," I began, "you didn't have to make the trip this time. We'll only be gone three days."

Grandmother's eyes grew. "And miss all this!?" She waved at the suite, "I don't think so." Then her eyes softened as she drew closer to me. "I missed somethings, like Christmas with you this past year. It's just too cold in Makarovia for these old bones and muscles in Winter." She rubbed her arms at the thought of it. "Why do you think I agreed to stay in Boston now? I don't want to miss a thing."

"It gets cold in Boston, too." I said. "You came in October; it was sort of cold even then."

She nodded. "It does. For a few weeks. Makarovia drops into the minus degrees for months. I can do it, but it eats into my joints and I'm just not comfortable." She caressed my face. "I will promise to be there in Boston and Makarovia when it's not so cold. Okay?" Patting Peter on the cheek and kissing it. "You two are beginning a new life together." She looked at me. "A very important and exciting life for you, Eric. I want to see as much of that as I'm able."

I hugged her. "We understand."

The time difference wasn't that bad. It was later in England than the East Coast of the United States. While Wayne and Drew retired early when they arrived, we stayed up late. Those two joined us at Tea Time and Dinner. Because we were going to gone that short span of time, Boris had remained in Boston. Yuri was head of security and came to London with us.

It was in the morning was when we felt the time difference. For me in was the middle of the night when there was a knock on our door. It was the middle of the night in Boston.

Peter put a robe on and let Yuri in.

"You need to be ready in two hours," Yuri instructed kindly. I heard the smile in his voice. "There will be a limousine here then, with two gentlemen from the show. Both are producers of the show."

Peter nodded. "Fine. Can we get some coffee?" The sleepy tone was in Peter's voice.

Yuri chuckled. "It's on the way now."

Peter nodded and kissed him on the cheek. "Bless you."

"They can bring breakfast, too." Yuri chuckled again.

"The important thing first." Peter said patting him on the chest.

I didn't know how Yuri did it! Did he sleep? He was up, dressed and awake.

We did order breakfast and would shower after that. Grandmother joined us for breakfast eating a poached egg, some toast and drank some coffee. Peter and I had a bit more. I had never had fried mushrooms and hash browns. They were good! I was certain Boris could do them better. I'd have to ask.

Showering and putting suits on, we were ready at the given time.

So far, so good. With the knock on the door Yuri let two well-dressed gentlemen in their fifties into the suite. They were both smiling as they entered.

Yuri spoke with them quietly. "I present to you Graham Stuart and Jon Magnusson." He gestured to each. He smiled at the men. "Gentlemen, I present His Royal Highness Petro Ivanov and His Lordship Eric Richards, Earl of Stryia." They both bowed.

"It's an honor to have you both here!" Graham Stuart said sticking his hand out. Peter and I shook them both.

"You are the first of any royal family to come to our show." Jon Magnusson added.

"I've known about Graham Norton for years." I said. "I like his outrageous comments."

Peter nodded. "I saw him when I was in Makarovia. Some of his jokes might have to explained to me, but he is funny." Peter's accent was almost gone now. It had just a light touch to English. "Come to think, the only people we've had interview us are part of the LGBT community."

Jon nodded. "It makes sense, Your Highness."

I shook my head as I smiled. "We are just Peter and Eric."

"And we are Graham and Jon." Jon nodded.

I frowned a little. "Two Grahams? How do you call each other?"

Graham chuckled. "They just do. They also use the initial of our last names we're together."

Grandmother came in the room sighing as she had hurried. She ran her hand over thick white hair to see if she had any she didn't get put up. "I hope I wasn't holding you up." She was in a nice dress of red.

"No," Peter said. "We're fine."

I grinned at her. "And this is the woman that danced on the world's many stages with the Bolshoi and the New York Ballet." I said proudly. "This is Katrina Sams, my maternal grandmother."

Graham's eyes widened. "You were with the Bolshoi!?"

"She was the star!" Peter clarified.

Jon shook his head. "We should include you!"

Grandmother shook her head firmly. "No. This is about my only surviving relative who is marrying the love of his life. Not me."

"Well, I know there's a story there." Jon said.

"This is about Eric and Peter and that amazing country he was raised in." Stating it firmly "And the amazing people there."

"Okay." Yuri stepped up. "We, Katrina and I will ride with you. I would prefer one security ride in the front seat with the driver, but I will to give them room in the back." He was in full security mode. "An SUV will follow with our security and will be with us. There will also be several police with us and six of your police on motorcycles."

It was after the morning rush hour. It was good weather out with a lot of sunshine. I had gotten over the feeling I always had about driving on what I felt was the wrong side of the road. The motorcycle police did this leap frogging moves. Two when forward to block an intersection as we traveled through with no stopping. It wasn't that far, but it was across town. There was a highway that ran near the hotel to gain access to the highway. The group of vehicles stopped as the local police were now in a discussion with each other. Yuri was hearing something through his earpiece he didn't like.

"Then we'll take another route." Kyle, our driver said forcing patience into his voice.

Jon sat forward in his seat in the back with us. "Is there a problem?"

Yuri grimaced as he listened to his ear piece. "The access to the A40 has been blocked. There was a pretty bad accident that just occurred apparently." He reported listening.

We could access the highway from another point. Maybe that was what we were doing because we veered off in another direction. We again were having the leap frog with the police. What I saw was the motorcycle police waving at something coming down the street he was blocking. The officer dove at the last minute as one of those double decked buses plowed through as we were approaching the intersection. It didn't hit us, but it did hit the police car in front of us knocking the car out of the lane, crushing the side of the police car. A large truck on the other side did the same plowing into the SUV behind us knocking it on its side to scrape out of the lane. The bus and truck were large enough to block the other police from getting to us. The bus was now being emptied by people in dark clothes and wearing hooded masks. I heard the rapid firing of guns ahead and behind with a couple of explosions. The bus and truck prevented us to see.

"We're secure!" The driver shouted in the excitement. "The glass is bulletproof and the metal reinforced!"

There were two of those dark clothed people approaching the limousine throwing something under us and dove away as two loud booms, with flames, burst from underneath. The explosions lifted the limousine off the pavement briefly before gravity pulled us crashing back down.

"Don't even try to open the doors! Their trying to get inside!" The driver shouted pointing at us and looked at Yuri. "This car's interior can withstand bomb blasts! They can't break through!"

The men on the side rose again and threw two more of those bombs underneath us. Again, diving away there were two more blasts.

"How many blasts can this take before they can break through?" Yuri shouted with his gun in his hand. His handgun against rapid fire military guns!?

"Won't the car blow up?" Grandmother asked but not in a panic. She'd been chased by the KGB in the past, in a firefight in Peter's and my home in Boston. This was just one more event in her life.

"No," the driver said shaking his head. "Gas could ignite and burn, but even if they managed that, the passenger portion of this car will remain intact, sealed and protect you from any blast or flames." He looked at Yuri. "With the recent bombing in England from some extremists groups, we needed it for our political leaders and often the royal family."

I felt a chill as I said, "The Consortium!"

Yuri nodded. "It could be. That Baldwin woman came from here." He gave a shrugging nod. "But so were those three that wanted to make points with those terrorist groups when they tried to get a car bomb in the palace in Stryia last year." He looked at the frantic chaos outside the car. "What I'm seeing tells me it's the Consortium. They aren't using simple weapons. This is coordinated and well-funded attack."

Peter grunted. "Anything for a billion Euros."

I grunted, too. "Or gain control of the uranium."

"We don't know." Yuri clarified and looked at the two producers. "Either way, whether to stop the wedding or extortion, Peter and Eric won't be on that show. Not today. We need to get them out of here. Now!"

All this happened in just a few seconds. Our attackers had on those thick bullet proof vests and padding. Regular city patrol people, bobbies, didn't carry guns. Normally, that was true, but this was an exception. They would when necessary. This time, they thought it was necessary. A member of that police was putting his head around the truck and fired at the attackers. The attackers numbers were growing for a few minutes, but were cut down quickly. Our security had not all been in the SUV. I saw a dark suited man as he fired his weapon. He was using the same tactic as they had in Boston. They weren't shooting to just maim or disarm. He aimed for the head...to kill.

Yuri had been watching and speaking to someone. He glanced at us. "...well, bring it around!" He looked at us. "There is the police car behind us, it's coming around." Yuri said. "Do not open any door until I give the word." He looked at the two producers. "Someone is coming for the two of you, but these three are a priority. They go now."

Both men were nodding as they looked at the fast, chaotic frenzy happening. The screech of tires and sound of an engine sounded to our left. Now Yuri did open his door, closing it quickly and opening the right rear passenger door of the police car then tried our door, which at first wouldn't budge until our driver released it.

"Rukhatysya!" Yuri ordered quickly and waved us to move.

Grandmother went first as she was closer to the door. She moved very quickly getting in the police car and slid to the other side. Then me, followed by Peter.

Yuri jumped in after us, squeezing us making four across. It was tight. "GO, GO, GO!!!" Yuri shouted.

The sirens were blaring as we shot off, in reverse, to go around the truck behind us. The two officers in the front seat had come from that direction, so they knew what was there. We did sideswipe a couple of cars, but the driver didn't slow down. Bullets hit the car making a thudding noise. There were a few that hit the front windshield and door windows. Yuri pushed all of us down to keep our heads from a bullet. Unlike many movies, there were holes, but the glass didn't shatter. The policeman driving turned the wheel radically making the car tires squeal as it spun around. Slammed the car into drive, the car shot forward. It was a one way street and we were going in the opposite the direction we were supposed to. There were a few cars that had come down the street behind us, but he steered around them, going onto the now abandoned sidewalk. Hitting the occasional garbage can and street sign posting. Four of the six motorcycle police wove through the traffic and caught up. At the intersection they turned down a street going the correct way as all of their sirens blared. I will admit, the people of London pulled over quickly unlike some I had witnessed in the United States. I was told, if they didn't, they could get fined! Pretty stiffly from what I heard. From the many street cams and patrol cams now, if it showed any refusal or even indecision by the driver they could even get jail time for obstruction of the law. Getting flustered was no excuse. Rapid turns was all that told me what was happening. That and the high pressure on the engine right now which was a loud hum. The sound changed as those noises were being reverberated back telling me it was a garage. The squeal of the tires to stop was heard. Yuri got out quickly as did the other officer from the front seat, opening both back doors.

"Idy, idy, idy!" Yuri shouted at us and the officer shouted, "Go, go, go!" Which I don't have to tell you were the same word.

Getting out we saw that one of the motorcycle patrolmen had come ahead and called the elevator and was holding it open waving us toward it. In an emergency an elevator alarm would sound from not being able to shut its doors. This one was going off. It was an emergency. Yuri was hurrying grandmother and us as we rushed in the elevator with three more officers. The doors finally were allowed to close making the alarm stop.

There were four elevators in the hotel, but we did stop on the ground floor to allow two other hotel guests on. Try as Yuri might, pressing the "close door" button they opened anyway. The man and woman looked startled as they saw us with four police officers and Yuri with their guns still out and the three of us.

"Next car!" Yuri said with hurried intensity as the doors shut again. The guests didn't argue.

This time we made it to our floor where Yuri was again hurrying us to our suite. Using the key card, he opened the door. Holding us at the entrance and shutting the door. Yuri ordered the officers to check the rooms, in closets, under the beds...no place anyone could hide. He wasn't taking any chances. The four officers did a quick but thorough search. We heard the various voices announce "clear" as they went. They soon returned and told Yuri there was no one hidden.

Yuri let a sizable sigh of relief out and allowed himself to breath again. "Thank you." He looked at grandmother, Peter, and me. "Okay, you can breath again for now. Try to relax, but stay away from the windows."

Peter pulled me close in a hug and kissed me in love and gratitude we were alright. Then he pulled grandmother in the hug.

As we went to sit on the couch, I looked at grandmother. "I think you could have missed this and stayed home."

Grandmother chuckled. "I been through things like this before. I wouldn't have missed it." Her smile faded. "I just hope there were no deaths for those protecting us."

Peter and I nodded flopping back as the adrenaline rush was going away.

"It has to be them." Peter said as Yuri began pacing. "They used the same tactics as last time."

Yuri nodded. "It could be." He turned to us. "It could also be a number of others from the Russians or Ukrainians..." He shook his head. "Until we have evidence, it's all speculation." You could see his mind was going. "We need to get you three out of here and back to Boston."

"Who was hurt?" Grandmother asked. "Those were some bad crashes. Do you know yet?"

Yuri shook his head. "Right now, the local authorities are assessing the damage."

"I bet it was the Consortium," I said as I thought out loud. "This goes beyond kidnapping."

Yuri nodded, "I believe so."

Peter frowned, "What do you mean?"

"They tried to make that Baldwin bitch queen to have a ongoing..." I switched to English, "cash cow."

Peter's eyes widened, "Cash...cow?" He repeated the words in English, not understanding.

I gave a grudging shrug and explained in Makarovian, "Makarovia is the cow, the uranium is the milk and they wanted to control the cow and keep the profits from the milk for themselves."

"Oh," Peter nodded as he got it.

Yuri nodded again and smiled, "Very possibly. The other nations in Makarovia will kill to keep you safe."

Our attention was gotten by the knock on the door. The police officers that got us away were still here, but Yuri went to see who it was. He looked through the peephole carefully. Even so, he got his gun out and threw the door open and they all pointed their weapons at the opening. It was the two other cops that had gotten us away. They both held their hands up and backed away from the opening so the coast could be checked to see if it was clear. They came in and Yuri asked two officers to stand at the door in the corridor to be sure it would remain clear. Two of the motorcycle officers did that.

As fast as it happened, it slowed to a crawl after that waiting for some word about the attack.

"We need to tell Olek and Mom what just happened." I said. "They shouldn't hear it over the news."

Peter nodded. "I'll do a video link up with his phone using my android." He was worrying how Olek would receive the news. The time difference here and Makarovia was only a few hours. Olek should be busy now doing his king stuff. Peter pulled up his contacts and touched the picture of Olek. It only rang a couple of times until Olek's real face came on the screen. The background told us he was in his office on his computer.

"What happened?" Olek asked immediately. We usually text before we call, but our call without that this time told him there was something more urgent if we called to video chat.

"First," Peter began moving his android to show me, grandmother, and Yuri. "We're fine. See?" He smiled at Olek. "You'll find out our vehicles were attacked a few minutes ago on the way to tape the TV show in London."

Olek's eyes widened in surprise and then narrowed and his eyebrows came together in a mix of concern and anger. "You apparently are alright. Was anyone else hurt?"

"We don't know yet," I told him. "We were pretty quickly rushed back to the hotel."

"Good." Olek nodded. "The appearance on the show was an important way of letting the international world we are still doing this and here. Any idea who was behind this?"

"Right now, we can only speculate." Peter confessed. "They wore black, masks and it was very quick."

"That's familiar," Olek muttered and then smiled at us. "You're okay. Yuri knows to give me a report."

Yuri was right here and heard that. "He does." He said loud enough to be heard. "I'll send what I have...when I have anything to send."

"I said, I knew you would. I didn't ask for what I knew." Olek defended and frowned. "I'm not making light of the situation..."

I grinned. "Humor makes tough situations easier." I nodded.

Olek's face softened. "Right." He touched the screen as if to touch us. Peter and I did the same to Olek. "Be safe. We'll talk again later."

Yuri spoke to someone over his earpiece and microphone. Yuri told us there were deaths, mostly the attackers. There were two deaths with the police that protected us. There were injuries! Four were the men that were from our security behind us that had been in the SUV. Gunshot wounds, bones broken and lacerations...no questioning about bruising. The investigators were doing their job. Jon and Graham were unhurt, but were checked medically. They were in four explosions! The emergency crews there wanted to be sure. The security force we brought from Boston left uninjured came back to the hotel. Our police escorts were going to return for their debriefing and would resume their lives.

I rose from the couch and stopped them. "Before you go..."

Peter, knowing what I was doing, stood beside me. "Yes, I can not put into words how grateful we are to all of you for what you did."

"Your quick actions saved our lives." I added, but pointed at the officer that had driven. "And you..." I grinned, "that was some awesome driving skills you used today. It makes me wish for a less critical circumstance to ride with you again. It was thrilling!"

The officer chuckled. "I'll do it when you want to do that, My Lord." He bowed slightly.

"We have friends in London," Peter smiled putting his arm around me. "We'll be back."

"Now a few more." I pointed at them. "Thank you." I said to them. Peter and I bowed to them.

It was an hour or so when we got another knock on the door. We had guards posted, so they had given clearance for whomever to knock. Yuri went to the door and opened revealing Jon, Graham Stuart, and Graham Norton! Yuri motioned for them to enter.

"I am..." Graham Norton said. The sound of distress in his voice and expressed on his face. "...sorry about what happened."

Peter nodded. "It was a tragedy. Please don't take any blame."

"You invited us and we accepted," I said. "What the attack was about we don't know yet. It wasn't because we were coming to your show." I grinned coming over to him. "Personally, I insisted we come. I've loved you for a while!"

Norton grinned more at ease and his eyes twinkled. "I don't think you should express that too loud." He stage whispered and looked back at Peter. "Some may not understand."

Peter laughed lightly. "It's no secret. I love you, too."

Norton didn't miss a beat, "Well, I wasn't ready for a threesome." He said in his outrageous manner. His face showed he was kidding. I think. "Can we reschedule?" Sounding hopeful.

"We will be busy the next few weeks." I confessed.

"We have midterms coming up and I guess you heard," Peter chuckled. "We have a wedding to attend..."

Norton's eyes widened, "No! Really?" He sarcastically joked.

"Why don't you come?" Peter asked. "The BBC will be there with their equipment. You can do it in Stryia. Consider this an official invitation." He looked at Jon and Stuart. "All of you."

Norton nodded bowing slightly. "It would be an honor."

Again, there was a knock. Yuri opened it and Wayne and Drew came rushing in.

"Thank god!" Wayne said rushing toward us hugging Peter and then me. "You're not hurt."

Drew looked around. "Where's Katrina?" He asked concerned.

Hugging Drew, I smiled. "She just had to lie down. It was an eventful morning. She's fine."

"They must be friends of yours." Norton chuckled at the brief mayhem that was happening. He waved at Drew. "Hello, Drew."

They knew each other. They both worked for BBC. That was like saying you worked for any major network. They don't necessarily even see each other because of different studios and locations. They were in different areas of television, but knew each other. Just because they were both gay? No, there had to be another explanation. Drew wouldn't ever cheat on Wayne.

"Yes," I said. "Drew caught my attention and we invited him to the Proposal. We've been friends ever since." So, I asked. "How do you know each other?"

"Drew has interviewed me a few times about the fay, fag and fairy shit." Norton grinned. He knew what Drew had been told.

"I did a show about media and the LGTB members that occupied roles in it." Drew clarified. "Not just actors or entertainers, but producers, camera personnel..."

Norton nodded. "I saw the two shows he did on Makarovia. They were very good."

"A third one is coming out soon explaining how Makarovia became what it is." Drew said. "It will show some of the survivors that escaped during World War II. I mean the homosexuals mostly." He looked at me. "I hope to have it ready to air before the wedding." He smiled. "My goal is to have everybody to wonder why they and their country isn't like Makarovia."

Wayne nodded smiling. "It's a real tearjerker." He said sadly. "Because it's true." Then he smiled. "He has photographs and testimonials...no one who watches will have a dry eye."

Drew looked at me. "I used some of Milo's and Bren's audio sessions." He held his hand up. "Not all of it." He chuckled. "I only had an hour to work with."

I bounced at that. "Now their words will be heard around the world!"

"Milo and Bren?" Norton asked. "I assume they were survivors?"

"Watch the show," Drew said smiling. "You'll know who they were. It was tragic but a real love story."

As well as things went for us after the attack, there were the questions from local and Great Britain's national authorities to get a better understanding of what happened. Yuri was questioned and gave them more information than we could give.

"There had to be someone who knew the route you would take." One of the investigators said. "That accident just before you changed routes was not an accident."

"Why do you say that?" Peter asked.

"There were no skid marks." The partner of the first investigator answered. "The driver that hit three cars on the access to A40 disappeared."

"They staged the accident to make us divert our course." Yuri added understanding.

"The car that struck them did it in reverse, according to witnesses and the webcam on A40." The first investigator said. "It was deliberate."

"Were the drivers in those three cars hurt?" I asked.

"There were some injuries," The second man reported. "Nothing fatal. Bruises and a broken leg and arms. No identification has been found out about on the drivers...yet."

"They had to know when we left the hotel and had to know ahead of time the route we would take." Yuri said loud. "This was planned! They knew the route, when to stage the accident and knew the alternate route we would have to take. That was flawless timing. That bus and truck had to be ready to go to have it come off for what they wanted."

The investigators nodded. "Someone told them." The first said sadly.

"Who??" Yuri asked frustrated.

"It could be a number of sources," the second man cautioned. "Anyone at the hotel, with the BBC or even..." he hesitated and said sadly, "one of us." He was implicating the police as a possible source. "We have some of those that participated with the attack in custody. We are interrogating them now. We will find out."

Peter groaned. "This is about the uranium."

"No, Peter," I disagreed. "It's more than that. We stopped them once. They can't let that go. It was about the uranium and money when they tried to get Penelope to have Olek seduced and marry her, then she tried to get pregnant by Olek. They failed. This isn't even about the money anymore. Their reputation is based on fear. We knew how evil they were hearing about that princess they kidnapped and cut her hand off to prove no one can resist. Now they have two failures to overcome or they lose some of that reputation."

Yuri nodded. "The fact that they will harm like those innocents in those cars...that's frightening. This could get worse." He sighed. "They'll prove to the world they will stop at nothing to get what they want. I'm contacting Olek to give him a report. I'm also asking for more security from Makarovia to serve in Boston."

"He'll have to appoint more to guards the palace," Peter said. "With all the strange faces going in and out it will be harder to protect them."

"This Consortium is declaring war on Makarovia." Grandmother said nodding.

We had dinner in the suite that night. The next morning, we were taken to the airport. Now there were six police cars and ten motorcycle officers. Streets were again blocked ahead in advance, but traffic was held back in far more distance this time. The officers that blocked the intersections had rifles that they made sure the guns were clearly seen by everyone. England, again, was taking no chances.

The plane belonged to Makarovia and only landed that morning and waited in a secure hangar. No one was to approach it except for those cleared by Great Britain's government. Even the fuel truck driver and the truck was inspected and approved.

The men from Makarovia that had been injured would fly back separately when they were released.

The flight back wasn't bad, but I was glad to be home. Then I realized. I now felt like Boston was home! I knew I was smiling at that.

Entering the foyer, Boris saw us come in and waited as Yuri was getting us in. When Yuri turned and smiled at Boris, Boris couldn't contain himself any longer as he launched himself, hugging Yuri tightly.

I leaned toward Peter, "I'm glad we got the protocol about public displays taken care of."

Peter laughed lightly. "I think even if we hadn't, Boris would be doing the very same thing."

Don Wilson told us his phone had rung off the hook with calls from news affiliates, magazines and even the President and Prime Ministers.

Sitting in the same chair again and on Peter's computer we spoke with Olek again.

"I'm asking Yuri to get me the names of all the officers that assisted with the situation. I especially want the names of those that were killed." Olek solemnly said. "I can't undo what happened, but their families need to know how appreciated their sacrifice was."

"That will give them at least a little comfort." I agreed.

Olek was thinking as he spoke with us. "Should I do more?" He looked at holding out his hands as he shrugged. "I don't know if they had wives or children. Should I set up an account for their children's college, future or something?"

"You could," I admitted. "They were killed in the line of duty. I would think their departments had insurance to give that. I don't know. We can ask."

Olek smiled. "I've gotten calls from their Prime Minister and the President. The Prime Minister apologized and the President asked if there was more she should do."

Peter grinned and changed the direction of our discussion. "So, how is Helga?"

"She was concerned, but knowing you were fine..."

"No, Olek," Peter laughed. "I should have asked more specifically, how are you and Helga?"

Olek suddenly grinned as he now understood. "Oh. We're fine." He looked dreamily a second. "Beautiful, smart..." then frowned, "not to mention infuriating and stubborn!"

Peter moved closer to our screen. "You two are not breaking up!" Spoken like he would prevent that just because he didn't give permission for them to even consider that.

Olek's eyes widened in alarm. "What!? No!!" He shook his head. ""Oh, god no!"

"First, Olek, you said not to mention and then mentioned it." I chuckled. "Second, she's your life partner," I simply said. "That's what life partners do." I grinned at Olek. "She's her own person and not afraid of you."

Olek nodded. "No, she's not. It makes her exciting. If she disagrees with me, she doesn't hedge around to another idea like my advisors do. She comes right out and says I'm wrong."

"The nerve of that woman," I teased. "Good for her."

"Wait," Peter looked at me. "Do I infuriate you?"

"Of course," I said instantly. "I know I do you."

"When have I infuriated you?"

I rolled my eyes. "I don't keep track of them." I tried to remember. "Oh, like when you take the blame for things that happened after we got together. Or when you needlessly doubt yourself. The time you forgot to kiss me..."

"I kissed you!" Peter defended.

"The first one was a peck!" I argued laughing. "I made you do it again."

Olek was laughing at us. "Guys! Helga and I are fine." Then he gave a slight odd smile. "We may have to rethink our wedding traditions."

"Why?" Peter asked.

"Helga wants to stop taking her birth control medicine." Olek confessed but hurriedly said. "She's healthy and fine physically, but she said she'd feel better if she has the first one soon."

"That makes sense," I agreed. "She will be an older first time mother."

Olek shrugged. "Hey, a lot of these traditions we follow were started because one of us had to compromise. The proposal and marriage in a year was so one of our grandfathers needed to get consent from her father." He grinned. "We'll just alter it some." He physically waved it off. "We'll talk about it later."

"Okay," Peter said. "Give our love to Helga and Mom." We signed off. Peter looked at me. "I don't remember you ever making me mad."

"I've never been mad or angry with you, baby." I said smiling. "We've never really argue. We talk about everything. I know that sometimes that bothers you. You don't like it when I confront you asking you to tell me what you're feeling." I leaned closer kissing him. "Those things I mentioned never made me angry or mad. Never at you."

"Oh," Peter said.

"We're fine."

Going back to class was a little more complicated. Our security escort increased. I now had six escorts and Peter had six. To make things easier on the professors, we limited our escorts into class to two escorts. We were also allowed to do it online for a few courses. The other four guarded the doors to the class.

The BBC covered the incident in London the evening of and the day after the attack. CNN, Fox, CBS...all the news networks reported it briefly the day of and reported what the BBC got on national TV. Our names were never mentioned. We were an envoy from Makarovia. No one at Northeastern questioned us about the increased security, but they knew.

The midterms came and went. Once that was over we did have our Easter. Spring break passed us. The Eastern Orthodox Easter was after the Easter in the West. The Catholics and Eastern Orthodox use different calendars. The churches in the West use the Gregorian Calendar. The East orthodox use the Julian Calendar. The Royal Family didn't endorse any church or synagogue. They viewed that to be up to the individual to choose their beliefs. Mom, Olek, and Peter went to church, like we did at Christmas to special events for the churches and synagogues. We really only had those two faiths. Well, there was a Russian Orthodox, but that was really Eastern Orthodox. They just didn't follow the Pope or the patriarch in Constantinople. They elected their own in Moscow. You have to understand that Makarovia is made up of people from Eastern Europe. I'm sure with the joint base in Makarovia there were chaplains of different faiths and denominations. We would have the Church of England for the British, Lutheran for the Germans, Baptists, and Presbyterians! Those were the primary denominations of those countries mentioned.

The three that tried to get that bomb in the palace needed a mosque. If they went. I didn't see that many Makarovians going to one of those in the near future. Not that I saw anything against Islam. If that was your choice, that is between you and Allah.

The end of the semester was coming and our so were our finals. Grandmother wasn't alone all the time. She had her friend Carla Bowers over a few times. Carla had to come to grandmother. Yuri didn't want Katrina Sams taken while having lunch somewhere.

When the doorbell rang that first time Carla came Peter and I were sitting in the living room talking with grandmother and having our beloved coffees. Yuri knew who was coming and let grandmother open the door. Carla had not been here, but that house we used at first.

"This is unbelievable!" Carla gasped in a whisper as grandmother had to practically pull her friend in. Carla looked about the foyer. "It's beautiful!"

Grandmother nodded. "It is. It's sort of an embassy of Makarovia. King Olek has used it, but he also wanted to provide a safe place for Peter to go to school."

Carla stopped. "I heard on the news that there was an attack on a Makarovian envoy in London."

Grandmother nodded. "There was. They tried to get to Peter and Eric."

Carla looked at us on the couch, but let out another gasp. "But there were no injuries to them, right?" She said walking closer to Peter and me. "They didn't say who it was they attacked, just that some of the guards from Makarovia was hurt."

"No," Grandmother replied. "We were gotten away quickly."

Carla let out yet another gasp she tried to cover with her hands over her mouth. "Kat! You were there!? Oh, my god!" She hugged my grandmother. "Kat!"

Grandmother patted her on the back as she assured Carla. "We're fine, but that's why I couldn't meet you anywhere but here." Grandmother held Carla out a little. "The head of their security won't allow that until they find out who and figure out how to stop them."

Carla hurried to me and Peter. "My god, Eric." She hugged me and turned to Peter. "Peter!" She hugged Peter.

"We're alright." Peter tried to sooth her, but chuckled lightly.

"And well protected," I waved to Yuri who stood there until he knew it was safe. There were two security guards on either side of the door inside now. There were more outside. There were patrols about the grounds.

Yuri smiled and shook his head. "I'll be around if needed." He said pleasantly. "Welcome again, Ms. Bowers." He bowed slightly and walked down the hall to the kitchen.

The rest of the visit was pretty much grandmother and Carla. Peter and I used the excuse of needing to study to allow them some privacy...and to save us from having to politely sit there and enduring them.

Okay, we told them a white lie. We went to the kitchen to visit Boris. We really would study, but later in the day.

The visits after the first time Carla came often. She was shown the house by grandmother.

The new security arrived and I was surprised. I shouldn't have been, but I was used to all the large men. I saw three women in this group. They weren't large, but I knew they could kick ass when needed. They didn't look masculine, but had the look the men did. Those emotionless expressions, wearing all black. They were inside, but I just knew they had the dark glasses on them. The hair pulled back from the face just added to the don't fuck with me look.

Time was playing with my mind. The weeks of classes, papers and study seemed to merge in a blur. At the same time crawled when I thought about the wedding. Finals were at last upon us. I refused to cram.

"No, Peter," I said when he suggested a night of cramming. "Review your notes, you know the material. Cramming just puts negative thoughts in your head and makes you doubt. You lose sleep and can't function well or think. We review and go to bed at a descent time."

Peter's head went back a little as he frowned.

"Mark this occasion," I grinned putting my arms around him. "This is one more time I am bothering you."

"Well," Peter smiled a little, but wasn't convinced, "yes. I don't feel confident with the subjects like you do."

"What was the worst grade you got this semester?" I asked.

"I got a B minus in Sociology." Peter confessed.

"What did you miss?"

"Racial Inequity and Public Policy." He admitted. "I didn't give the professor what he wanted to see."

"Just that once?" I asked.

"Yes, once I figured out how he wanted it, my grades went up." Peter admitted. "About the applied research on collecting of data."

I patted him on the chest. "You remember it now."

"Sure."

I raised my hands in concession. "If you want to study all night, be my guest, but you don't need to."

Peter smirked. "Now you're bothering me because you're right." Then he grinned. "After this we go to Makarovia."

"And?"

"We get married and you become a prince." Peter stated proudly.

"I'm excited by that," I nodded. "About marrying you. The other just comes because of that." I brought his face to mine. "I love you, Peter."

"I know." He smiled. "I love you, Eric."

"I know." I said kissing him gently.

We did well on our finals. Grades were posted and we both passed. Now, we were preparing for our trip to Makarovia. I looked forward to seeing it again. We had friends there now and I wanted to see them again. Makarovia, too, was feeling like home to me. We were again taking the plane that belonged to Makarovia. Until they found the Consortium, a commercial flight would endanger other innocents. With Boris and Yuri going, the house wasn't being closed down, but there was a reduction of needed staff. There would be the security provided by the United States to be sure no one got in the house. A small staff inside to keep the place clean and cook for the security. Don Wilson would also be there to work in his office.

We also learned that the combined forces of the United States, Great Britain and Interpol were making locating the Consortium a priority. The search was getting more intense. Were we that important? No. It wasn't just for us. We were just the immediate focus. This group threatened many people. Not just the rich, but people in power or decision makers, bending them to the will of the Consortium.

Packing on Peter's and my part was easy this time. We had clothes in Makarovia. Grandmother didn't. She was staying the whole Summer and going back with us when began our Junior year. Boris and Yuri had been away for years. They had nothing in Makarovia. There were stores in Stryia, but they needed a month's worth of clothes and grooming things besides combs and brushes for hair and teeth. It was the middle of Spring and warming up, but it could get cool in Makarovia at night. It's a good thing it was Makarovia's plane. With grandmother's, Yuri's, and Boris' luggage there would be a problem with the weight limits.

Boris came in our room with our favorite coffees on a silver tray.

After taking ours, Peter turned to Boris. "Thank you, Boris! I'll miss this." He grinned and cocked his head at Boris. "This sort of thing will be done for you in Stryia."

Boris looked uncomfortable. "I can still do it in Stryia." He defended. "I know they serve coffee there."

"They do," I nodded. "Do you have a problem being served your coffee preference? They will be serving meals to you, too."

Boris looked alarmed. "What will I do with my time?" He almost wailed. "Yuri and I will be gone a month!"

Peter shrugged and smiled. "I don't know. Relax and take it easy?" He suggested.

"For a month," Boris nodded but his voice said he would find that impossible. The tray at his side he walked toward us a little. "It may be hard to believe, but I love what I do." He gave a shrugging nod. "I love to cook. Creating a great meal. I like the challenge. No one likes to clean, but I get the feeling of eminence satisfaction when I please with what I do." He shook his head. "You're so...appreciative. That makes it a joy to do things for you. Some people stop seeing me after a while. Not you two. I've never felt I was taken for granted."

"And you won't ever be taken for granted, Boris." I smiled at our friend.

Boris nodded turning to leave. "I can at least cook for you while there." He stopped, looking back. "Can't I?"

Peter chuckled. "Sure, you can cook for us. Mom, Olek, and Helga, too. You don't have to."

I chuckled. "You won't know where anything is in the palace kitchen."

Boris shrugged. "I'll learn and ask when necessary." He tapped his head. "The recipes are in here. I know what ingredients are required and lay them out before I start." He smiled. "No problem." He walked out.

In the morning we left. Our luggage had been taken and loaded in a van. Boris looked different. Like he did that time in Los Angeles. The black pants and vest had been replaced by a nice polo shirt of green and khakis. Grandmother was standing with us as we waited to leave.

I saw Yuri talking with Don and a man who was in charge security while we were gone.

"Why do I get the feeling like he's a parent telling children to be good while he's away?" I asked Peter quietly.

Peter chuckled. "Because he is."

I shook my head. "Boris and Yuri will be tough to get to relax."

At the airport, we went to a private hangar. Our luggage was loaded and then so were we.

"How long has it been since you saw Makarovia?" Grandmother asked Yuri and Boris as we taxied out to the get to the runway.

Yuri thought a moment. "When did we get here?" He asked Boris.

"Just before Peter was going to Northeastern." Boris said thinking. "Two years. We'll be in year three in two months."

Peter smiled. "There have been many changes. You'll be surprised."

"We saw that show Drew did on television," Boris said. "I look forward to seeing the Stryian Underground."

"You had a house there?" I asked.

"We do," Yuri nodded. "We rented it out these past years."

"You'll be at the palace now." Peter smiled.

We took off. The flight was lengthy. It was a straight trip to Stryia. It took almost ten hours. We lost pretty much a day. The time change was later in the evening than in Boston. We got off the plane greeted by three known figures. It was still cool at night, but not nearly as cold as it was Christmas. It had been in the mid seventy during the day, but in the upper fifties now.

"Welcome home," Mom said coming to us.

Hugs and kisses all around with Mom, Olek, and Helga.

There was the quick ride to the palace. There was an addition to the side of it, but inside the walled courtyard. A tall addition that went from the ground to the upper floors.

Olek grinned as we looked. "That's the new elevator," He pointed to it. "They're trying to get it finished before the wedding."

Peter nodded. "The other one worked."

"Yes, and still does," Olek smiled. "From ground to the palace. We worked to get all those rooms we had to house villagers when we were attacked done." He explained. "This one will stop on individual floors. We don't want guests to come, go all the way to the top and have to walk down to their rooms."

"You're making the lower floors into a hotel." I smiled.

"That's sensible." Grandmother said.

Olek nodded. "The other one will carry freight."

"And their luggage." I nodded. "Isn't dark in those rooms? There aren't any windows."

Olek shrugged. "We have the electricity. They will have light and ventilation."

"And bathrooms?" Peter asked. He looked at me. "There used to be just one on every floor."

"Half of those rooms on each floor were converted into bathrooms." Olek smiled.

"You did all this in five months?" I asked.

"Sure," Olek chuckled. "We started in January just after you left. During the winter when we couldn't really go outside long, we did it. The new tunnels underground helped people get here."

"I can hardly wait to see that." Boris said looking at Yuri.

Yuri patted Boris' leg. "We'll have time."

Helga began. "I think you'll be surprised." She said to us. "There are more improvements."

We took the first elevator up to the palace. I once again was pleased to feel like I'd come home. The flight was about ten hours, but with the time difference, it was after three in the morning here. I was tired, but not sleepy. We were served a hot meal as our luggage was brought up the elevator. They were all labeled.

Peter leaned closer knowing what I was thinking and said quietly to me. "Remember, that's their job. It's what they are paid for."

He knew how I felt about somethings. I nodded. "I know." I sighed. "I can't help it." I was raised to do things on my own.

In our room, we did make love and went to sleep. We made ourselves wake up at nine in the morning to begin adjusting our biological clocks. Coffee was most definitely needed.

I did notice some additions to the palace. There were new paintings on the walls that were very good. New sculptures were there on pedestals and standing alone.

"These new artistic renditions to gallery where everyone gathered before going where ever in the palace. Where did they come from?" I asked Olek.

"From you," Olek grinned. "These are works of art that the people of Makarovia had in their homes. Some are done from present day Makarovians. Some are works done in the past."

One caught my eye. It reminded me of the paining "scream." It was obviously a concentration camp survivor. The shaved head and black and white uniform told what it was. This picture wasn't obscure like the other. This was a man's head and upper torso, clutching the sides of his head as he screamed. It was good, but unnerving. It was art that gave me an emotional response of horror and saddened by this artists suffering. They weren't all like this. There were others. I recognized the picture of Rsys Lake. Peter and Olek had been taken just before their father's death. The picture was in weather that was getting colder. There were patches of snow in the forest tree line. The lake surface was placid and tranquil. It was very peaceful, which I felt.

Peter and I went down to the next few floors to see the rooms Olek was redoing. There was rolled up rug at the end of the hall. I just figured it would be rolled out down the hall for our guests. One wall was stone. The other wooden. I noticed the floor had been raised a bit.

"Why is the floor raised?" I asked one of the workers in his middle thirties.

The man smiled and bowed. "To hide the wires and pipes, My Lord." He shrugged, "and it will be more comfortable than stone." He waved at a room. "We did the same in the rooms."

Peter looked surprised, "You did this in five months?"

The man chuckled. "This was the first Winter for many we could come to work." He pointed with his thumb. "With all that snow, we were usually stuck inside staring at each other. With those new tunnels was can go to work. My wife got a job down there. It's great!"

"You live in Stryia?" I asked knowing there were primitive tunnels there and had been for decades.

"On the Eastern outskirts," the man laughed. "The old passages didn't reach that far. Now, it does!"

In the rooms, it was bigger than a regular hotel room just a little. They held whole families when attacked. Half with king sized bed and the others two queen sized. There were four rows of these on each floor.

"What about the hotel underground?" I asked.

"That's a little more involved." The man informed. "We have to take the rock out before we can build the hotel." He patted the wooden wall. "This structure was here. We just made additions." He said simply.

Peter nodded, "Well, we won't get in your way."

"You're not, Your Highness."

Peter chuckled as we left the men do their work. "In two weeks, that will be you."

"Why?" I asked. "Neither the women William nor Harry married got the title of princess when they married."

"Because their queen wouldn't give them that. They are duchesses." Peter explained. "Olek is crowning you a prince."

I shrugged, "Okay."

We walked through the palace to take the elevator down and saw Boris and Yuri were going down as well and asked if they wanted to do it together.

The entry was still like it was before, but we saw a new entry was carved out for the new elevator. The floor of the tunnel accessing the elevator was a slight incline. We could see the metal doors in the distance.

It was the same...almost. The corridors looked wider. There were shops along the way. Recessed shops in the tunnels walls. I pointed to one shop we knew. The Makarovian Gourmet Coffee Shoppe! It was Christmas when we were here last. Only now it was not placed in a hole made in the wall of the cave or tunnel. We pulled Boris and Yuri with us. They had been staring at the surroundings.

"This is incredible!" Yuri managed. "I had to take the passage from home to the palace. The light down here was dim." He waved at the corridor. "Not this!" It was well lit now and a lot wider.

The coffee shop looked like a real coffee shop with counters now. The woman who was here at Christmas was there and another young man in his late teens. Both of them bowed. Both wore deep purple aprons the name of the business on them.

"It's nice to see you again, Your Highness," she turned to me, "My Lord."

Peter nodded and motioned toward Boris and Yuri. "These are extended family Boris Petrov and Yuri Orlov."

She bowed slightly to them, "What can I get you?"

We ordered our coffees. I did, too. My large cold vanilla latte. The smell of coffee from the shop filled with anticipation for my drink. I did drink coffee, but now it was medicinal. Those tendrils of sleep threatening to overtake me had to be kept at bay.

There were more people down here now than last time. I felt a light breeze that told me they ventilated these corridors. There was even Muzak down here. Light and cheerfully relaxing music played.

"See?" Peter grinned as he pointed a grocery store. "This is where they get their milk and bread."

Many countries had huge grocery stores with isles of can goods, condiments, and other goods. This was smaller, but seemed to be well stocked.

I stopped Peter. "How does this store get the supplies to sell in the Winter?"

He gave a shrugging nod. "It can be challenging. We stock things in advance. We make our own bread. We also rely on ultra-pasteurized milk that can be stored for weeks. There are some cows in Makarovia..."

I pulled him in a kiss. "I know, you all prepare." Grinning at him. "I get it."

Peter nodded. "That's right."

Boris and Yuri continued to be impressed with underground in Stryia. Coming around a corner, Yuri stopped and held his hand out for us to stop. His eyes narrowed as two men came. Yuri stepped in front of them surprising the two.

"Who are you? You've been following us almost from the beginning." Yuri asked firmly.

The taller dark haired man swallowed. They were both dressed casually. "We were sent by King Olek."

"His Majesty didn't feel comfortable with His Highness Petro and his Lordship being without protection. Even in Makarovia." The other, a blonde man said in almost a stutter.

Yuri nodded. "I wouldn't let anything happen to them."

"I don't think His Majesty knew you were with them." The first man said. "With all the strange faces around now, he didn't want any of the Consortium trying anything."

Yuri took his phone out and took two pictures. One of each. "I need to verify what you said." It didn't take too long before his phone rang.

"Yes, Yuri," Olek's voice said by the speaker. "I sent them. They were supposed to be discrete."

"They were," Yuri chuckled. "But not discrete enough with me."

"I didn't know you were with them!" Olek defended.

"We'll have to let you know next time." I said loud enough to be heard.

Olek's sigh was loud enough to be heard. "I want you be free to come and go as you please. This your home, but with that threat..."

Peter was nodding even though Olek couldn't see him. "We should have thought of that. We're sorry, Olek."

"No," Olek said. "I'm sorry for having to do this." He laughed. "Helga doesn't like security around her when she's working."

"She understands why, right?" Yuri asked.

"She understands, but doesn't like it." Olek said. "I don't blame her."

"We'll head back." Peter said.

"No! Don't." Olek said suddenly. "You have security guards and Yuri. Explore. You're safe."

We did wander around a few more hours. There were shops open all around. I had the feeling we were in a mall. It was a mall! Corridors with businesses, everything from clothing to groceries. A bank and post office . It was like entire businesses of Stryia had sunk down here.

"They did a lot down here." Peter smiled at some people. They all knew who he was, but had enough manners not to rush him.

"They had a year to do it." I said.

I grinned as a little boy about five or six years old waved at us smiling. Or course, we waved back. His mother did a quick bow as she walked on. Everyone was friendly. They even had a restaurant here! The smell of things cooking and the spices used made me want to have some. I pulled Peter in. The sign read Нові починання. Pronounced Novi Pochynannya. That's New Beginnings in English.

I smiled at the sign. "That's right."

Peter ordered the Makarovian Goulash. It contained elements of the Ukraine, Romanian and Hungary. I will say it was hotter than any of theirs. The theory was eating in the Winter, you wouldn't feel like it was so cold. I had Kapusta. It was a thick soup, a stew really with kielbasa. That's a kind of sausage from Poland. We all shared scuffles. Scuffles were like a crescent roll, but it's sweet with sugar and cinnamon. They were hot and flaky!

We went back to the palace. I had seen her at breakfast, but yes, I worried. She seemed fine at breakfast. Going to her rooms, I knocked. No answer. Opening the door quietly, I called. "Grandma?"

"If looking for Ms. Sams," a girl I knew kept things tidy here. "She went down to the ballroom."

"Thank you." I wondered why she'd go there. The wedding wasn't until the end of next week.

As I got closer, I could hear music. Classical music. I knew the song. It was written by Tchaikovsky. It was from Swan Lake. Grandmother had danced to that often with the Bolshoi and New York City Ballet. I watched her. This was seventy-four!? I often said she kept in shape with no fat. She was in a pink body suit over leotards and she wore those ballet shoes. She didn't look seventy anything or sixty anything! Her muscles had definition on her thin frame. Her hair was all white now, but thick on top of her head. She leaped in a Grande Jete, jumping from one foot to the other and did a Pirouette, a spin on Pointe, the toe thing again. I knew the moves, but had no desire to do them. She was graceful and fluid in her moves. She was beautiful. At the song's conclusion she did the graceful bow over her right leg.

I began clapping heartily. "Brava!" She was a lady. I learned the difference with bravo and brava when very young.

Grandmother turned to me and gave her bow to me. "Thank you."

"You're the best." I said walking over to her.

She chuckled and walked over get the towel she had brought. Dabbing her chest to get the sweat. "My best was decades ago," she said with a laugh.

"I disagree."

"When I was dancing and even when I ran my school, I did it almost daily." Grandmother said. "Now, I have to set aside time to do it."

"You look great."

She smiled again. "I do it to stay in shape and keep these old joints flexible." She let out a "whew."

"I think you could still be on stage."

She smiled patiently. "No, son," she waved at the ballroom. "What you just saw...I can't do it like I could. I used to be sharper, more rapid with my moves. I am still a ballerina."

"I didn't see that," I said.

She hugged me. She knew what I was thinking. "I intend to live as long as I can. Grandparents on both sides live until they were in their eighties. My maternal grandmother was a hundred and two. I don't plan to go any time soon." She assured.

After what I witnessed I felt better about Grandmother. I was putting what happen with Grandpa, my father and mother, so I was more concerned than I should be with my grandmother.

All of Makarovia were invited wedding and coronation. The ballroom was big, but not that big. I laughed when I was told they were drawing lots to come. The wedding and coronation was going to be broadcast for the many who couldn't come. You needed a TV to do that. Those that had a TV were hosting parties so others could see.

"You will come down the aisle to join Peter on the platform," Olek said telling me what was going to happen.

"Like a bride?" I asked.

Olek chuckled. "Not like a bride, but you are being given to Peter. The coronation will happen after vows are given. Then you will be married and announced as a prince at the end."

"Given? By who? Can my grandmother do it?" I asked.

Olek shrugged. "If she's willing to."

"She won't just be giving you to Peter, but to all Makarovia." Mom smiled. "The yearlong courtship will be over. You will be given to Peter, to us as family and all of Makarovia."

"You'll be His Highness Prince Eric Ivanov of Makarovia." Olek said brightly.

"Yay." I said in just a little enthusiasm.

Next: Chapter 21: Makarovia II 11


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