Date: Sun, 16 Jan 2022 21:20:32 -0500
From: Richard McQueen <mcqueen.richarderic@gmail.com>
Subject: Makarovia! Sure, I Know Where That Is, Chapter 10 Another Attempt and Return to Makarovia

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.