Date: Tue, 1 Feb 2022 15:25:23 -0500
From: Richard McQueen <mcqueen.richarderic@gmail.com>
Subject: His Highness Prince Vincent

Story: His Highness Prince Vincent
Chapter 1 London
Author: Eric McQueen (mcqueen.richarderic@gmail.com)

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!

Mature Adult Readers, Sexual Situations, Sex

Yeah, yeah, yeah...another story from me. This one is a little
different. Here there is a sort of fusion of the Old West, Native American
Culture, and Victorian England. David is a lucky young man raised on a
ranch in the Wyoming Territories in the late 19th Century. Gifted with a
strong mind and a gift for languages. He goes to school in London to have a
future and meets the Queen of England and meets a future king.

All you left-minded history buffs out there devoted to logic and factual
events...never mind that history doesn't support my writing of history for
this story. "That isn't accurate!" Who cares? Spare me. It's fiction! I
tried to keep some things accurate timewise. I have a royalty fetish and
this keeps me from writers block. Put your brain's left side to rest and
let your right side enjoy the story. Okay? There were plenty of gay men on
various thrones. Here's one or two of them.

London

Wyoming 1893

 I was home again. Or soon would be. It had been a long trip back. This was
the last stretch. My mind kept going over things that had happened that
brought me back. I was taking the stagecoach the last part of this trip. My
attention was pulled back to my two traveling companions who had boarded
the stage at the train station.

"When we get there, it's important you make a good impression." The woman
said to the young woman next to her. Woman? She was barely more than a
girl. The woman was escorting the girl to meet someone important,
apparently. The girl sat with a book open which she was reading.

"Yes, Aunt Charlotte." The girl answered, but didn't look up from her
book. The reply was automatic, but she'd heard what the woman said, but
didn't take it to heart.

They said only a few words during the train ride, now the woman was telling
the girl her life depended on this meeting. Now the carriage ride was
filled with this woman's pressing on her "niece" how important it was to
her future.

"Once you begin working for Mr. Proctor, there will be little time for
reading." The woman cautioned.

"Yes, Aunt Charlotte." The girl said. I doubt she was really listening
anymore. I tried not to hear Aunt Charlotte, but the stagecoach carriage
small size didn't help much.

Aunt Charlotte was a woman best described as pinched. She could have been
attractive, once. She was about forty, but her hair was tied back in a
tight bun to the back of her head. Her dress was gray with no flourishes at
all. She was thin, almost too thin. "I don't see why you read so much,
Maggie."

The girl shrugged. "It relaxes me." The girl answered. "I enjoy it."

I looked at what she was reading. It was Shakespeare's Sonnets.

I grinned at her and quoted:

"Of all my loves this is the first and last

That in the autumn of my years has grown,

A secret fern, a violet in the grass,

A final leaf where all the rest are gone.

Would that I could give all and more, my life,

My world, my thoughts, my arms, my breath, my future,

My love eternal, endless, infinite, yet brief,

As all loves are and hopes, though they endure.

You are my sun and stars, my night, my day,

My seasons, summer, winter, my sweet spring,

My autumn song, the church in which I pray,

My land and ocean, all that the earth can bring

Of glory and of sustenance, all that might be divine,

My alpha and my omega, and all that was ever mine."

The girl looked up with a smile of surprise. "Oh, I love that one."

"There are so many." I smiled at her. "Shakespeare was a very prolific
writer."

The woman also looked surprised at me. "I'm surprised. You are a reader?"

"Obviously." I nodded. "I read anything I can get my hands on."

She looked at me appraisingly. I had changed when we got in the carriage. I
was now dressed for the final portion of my trip home. A home I hadn't seen
in years. On the train I had dressed for travel in a more fashionable
dress, now I was dressed for the ranch. "Well, Margret is to work for
Mr. Proctor. He's a widow with three children. They will need meals and a
clean house, not a girl that spends her day reading."

I didn't like the sound of this at all. "How old are you, Maggie? If you
don't mind me asking."

"She's fourteen." The woman answered crisply. "It's an opportunity."

The girl looked out the window with amazement. "Look! Indians!"

I glanced out and saw three Native brothers riding horses coming up next to
us. It was Summer, so seeing them dressed only in skin trousers and
carrying the bow and a few arrows. I grinned at what I knew my companions
must have thought. Especially Aunt Charlotte.

"I didn't think there were that many around now." The woman said, not quite
panicked, but she was slightly alarmed. "Why are they coming this way?"

"We'll find out," I said calmly. "We're coming up on my family's ranch
now." I pointed as we topped a hill. Below was a sprawling ranch. The house
stood grandly on a hill and the stables nearby. Many heads of cattle grazed
on the grass beyond. I felt a swell of pride seeing it after these years
away. I had not seen the new house since the original partially burned
years ago. We pulled to a stop in front of the house. The three Native
brothers stayed on horseback as I got out.

"It's been many moons since you've been here." The one Indian said in
accented English I knew was on purpose.

"It has." I nodded. Then spoke Shoshone. "Why the act?" I grinned. "It's
been a long time, Jacy."

The Indian shrugged. "What else does the White man expect from us savages?"
He dismounted. "I thought I'd give a little excitement." Then he grinned at
me. "Good to see you, Cousin." He said in perfect English. He came up a
hugged me.

"Cousin!?" The woman balked. "This Indian is your cousin!?"

I nodded with a proud grin. "His grandfather and my grandmother were
brother and sister," I explained which always caused people to react in
shock.

That's when the front door opened and a woman ran out. Dressed in a nice
western style dress, but her Indian blood shown. "You're home!" For a woman
in her late forties, she was also thin, but she was beautiful. She hugged
me. "How I've missed you!"

I hugged her back. "I missed you, too, Mom."

Now my two traveling companions on the way here were confused even more. My
mother had a white father, so did I. That's why I didn't look like an
Indian as she did. Mom had the features of a woman who was white, only her
skin was a little darker than most. My grandmother came out on the porch,
dressed in her native dress. She was Shoshone. I introduced my mother,
grandmother, and cousin. The stagecoach driver was unloading trunks.

"It's good to see you, son." Mother said happily, then looked at me
seriously. "How are you?"

I smiled back, but she knew the truth. One I hadn't been able to
forget. "I'll be fine."

"Well, you're home now." Mom comforted running her hand over my face. Then
she turned to the others. "I have dinner for all of you inside. If you'll
follow me."

Our ranch has been a stopover for the stagecoaches, as the next town was
still a ways off. Mom always wanted the guests to feel welcome.

The woman traveling with Maggie followed, but still watched my cousin and
his friends carefully. She was not convinced they were friendly. Even if
they were family. My grandmother hugged me, greeting me in Shoshone. Then
looked at the woman and suggested something else for the traveling woman to
cure her constipation.

My mother, cousin and his companions laughed, as did I. "That doesn't seem
to be a bad idea." I replied in Shoshone.

The girl looked about the inside of the house. First, it was a grand house,
the main room was tall, two stories and there was a large round fireplace
made of stone in the center. There were fans that rotated above. To the
right was a tall wall of books. Her eyes grew upon seeing them. "All those
books! I've never seen so many books!"

Mom smiled proudly. "My son loves books. He started reading at two years
old and has read every single one. Most are in English, but he has several
in French and German. A few in Latin."

"There must be thousands!" The girl marveled walking as she read the
binders and the titles.

The woman took her bonnet off relishing a cool breeze. "The air in here is
cool. Much cooler. How is that possible?"

Mom smiled even bigger. "My son's invention." She patted my arm and looked
at me proudly. "Your father followed your instructions to the letter, son."

"The ammonia system was not my invention. I just came up with a way to
circulate the cool air using the river, that's all." I smiled, but I felt
no happiness. "I'm sorry I wasn't here. When Dad died." I said softly.

Mom smiled back. "He was always so proud of you. You were so special to
him."

I nodded feeling the sadness again. "I hope so."

"Never ever doubt that."

I turned to the girl angry about what the woman told her. "No matter what
that woman tells you," I said angrily. "Never stop reading! You love to
read. Good. It will take you places."

Her Aunt Charlotte didn't like me saying that. "She's a girl. What good
will it do?" The woman asked irritated. "The only thing that can come of
that is to teach."

I frowned, but I reminded myself it was ignorance the woman had
said. "What's wrong with that? We n eed teachers. She can do whatever she
wants to," I said back. "We're looking at a new century soon and who knows
what will happen? The Twentieth Century can offer what we expect and make
happen. Electricity will usher changes and new ideas. Women will vote."

The woman's eyes grew. "Women vote?"

"Yes." I nodded. "Women can be doctors, lawyers, and leaders. My savage
family knows this. The men may be warriors, but the women make the laws and
decide the punishment." I looked at the girl. "You stay informed!" I said
firmly.

Later, as Mom got dinner set out. I greeted some of the hands that helped
with my family's ranch. Most have been here for years. One, a very, very
old man turned as I came in and his eyes grew. Then his gaze
narrowed. "Dang it! I thought I'd seen a ghost."

"Hi, Cookie." I greeted with a smile hugging the elderly man.

"Boy, you look just like yer Pappy." Cookie said. No one knew how old
Cookie was. Neither did Cookie. He came on the ranch when my grandfather
was beginning the ranch. He was no longer a hand and spent his days
whittling mostly. Mom and Dad had assured him he was to stay. He would be
buried here as this was his home. Most all of his life had been spent here.

"So, I've been told." I grinned.

Okay. Enough mystery. My name is David Richards. I am the son of Daniel
Richards and Kamani Richards. My father was a man that came to the ranch
that originally was owned by my mother's parents who loved him like a son,
and that son fell in love and married their daughter. I was very
lucky. Very lucky. I was born into a family that had the means and allowed
me to be educated overseas. I had spent the last twelve years in England,
Denmark, France, and Italy. England and Denmark the most. Dad was
indulgent. I loved to read. Dad made it possible I had books. They were
expensive, but he got them. Hundreds of them. He would have them shipped to
our home, which I read from cover to cover. I had a few teachers. Mom
taught me to read and Dad was good at math, but mostly I taught myself. I
worked on the ranch, but I was allowed to create. Everyone knew about most
of what I put together, like harnessing the power of water. We had a river
that flowed near the house. I got a paddle wheel and used that power to run
the fans in the house. Not only to cool but to spread the heat when it was
cold. I created Mom's first washing machine. It also ran on river
power. The paddles agitated and washed the clothes. I read how to do this
and improved on it. Then Dad thought I should have a more formal
education. He looked all over for a good school and found one. In England!
This was the school all the rich went to. Future Kings and high ranking
officials were sent there. After a long trip to England, I was allowed to
test. Besides, my father's money was good and we could afford the
tuition. Why not allow me to test? As I had no formal schooling, they
didn't have much hope for me, but we'd traveled so far. Not only did I test
well, but I also scored higher than some that had been formally educated. I
was accepted into Wentworth Academy. That's where I met Vincent Henrik. Who
knew that large Dane would be the source of so much joy and misery and
heartache? My father and I had gone to some shops and were as well dressed
as any of the bankers, politicians or whatever were there at the meeting of
fathers and sons before beginning the school year. What was clear was we
didn't belong. I'd have wagered and won that my father could have licked
any one of those fathers without breaking a sweat. Dad was about six feet
and three inches, but hard work and the ranch had made him strong. God had
made him big. Not one of these fathers looked like they ever sweated. A
little too polished for me. This was how it started.



1881 London, England

Wentworth Academy for Young Gentlemen

"Why are we doing this again?" I asked Dad as we looked at the men and
their sons gathered for the get to know you reception. Most of them were
standing off from both of us like we carried some disease and they didn't
want to catch it.

Dad swallowed the bourbon he had. "It never hurts to make friends with
powerful people."

I nodded understanding what he was saying. "These people are going to be
thousands of miles away when I graduate."

"Still." Dad encouraged. "You never know what will come of high powered
connections."

Then a young man my age came up to me in a hurry. Like I had a bulls-eye on
me somewhere. "Hello. I am Vincent. Where are you from?"

Dad and I had heard a lot of accents since we got here, but his was
different. English was a language he knew, but not his first language.

"America," I answered. "Wyoming."

That seemed to intrigue Vincent. "I am from Copenhagen, Denmark. My name is
Vincent Henrik." He stuck his hand out to me.

"Nice to meet you, Vincent." I greeted, he seemed to like that Dad and I
weren't like the others gathered here. He seemed pleased about it.

"You are cowboy then?" Vincent asked liking that idea.

"And you're a Viking?" I shot back mimicking his question. "I have worked
on the family ranch all my life. I can rope and ride for the work we
do. Yes, I am a cowboy."

Vincent held his hands up afraid I might have been offended. "I mean no
disrespect. There are not many cowboys in England. Americans are a few, but
to meet a real cowboy! You are more interesting than others. It's very
exciting."

I nodded grinning. "Okay. That's fair. So, where are the horns?" I asked
pointing at his head. "Don't you guys wear those helmets with the horns?"

"Well, where's your lasso and spurs?" Vincent asked grinning back not
bothered by my questions any more than I was bothered by his.

I laughed. "Touché." I was beginning to like Vincent. He could take
it as well as give it! He and I could be friends!

Vincent was a nice guy. And big! Almost as big as Dad. He had black hair
and blue eyes. He was an apparent athlete. That's when a man came up and
spoke with Vincent, who frowned.

"Deres Højhed, der er nogle andre du..."

Vincent instantly interrupted the man. "If you're going to be rude, do it
in English," Vincent growled at a man that clearly was not his father. In
fact, the man seemed to be a servant of Vincent's.

The man smiled at me and Dad. "I don't mean any offense, but..." he turned
to Vincent, "Perhaps there are others he should see as well."

Dad smiled, but I knew that smile. He was getting annoyed. "I'm sure you
meant no offense. Why would someone offend someone they don't even know?"

"Of course, he would," Vincent said to my father, then turned back to the
man. "Associate with any of those popinjays you want to Georg. They are the
same in every country." Vincent said. "Father said to do what I thought
best. Those men are not best." He grinned at me. "I believe this man
is. He's different. I like him."

That was how that started. We were assigned as roommates. It was Vincent's
insistence he was mine. Then I was told about him. He wasn't just from
Denmark. He was the Crown Prince of Denmark! I was rooming with a future
king! Does anyone envy me? Get in line if you are, the other guys at the
school were envious, too. They made me the target of jokes and taunts. Then
when we got to class, they shut up. No, I didn't know all the answers, but
I spoke back to the professors. Like in Latin class. I knew Latin. I was
told my Latin was mispronounced. I raised my eyebrows.

"Quid est quod locutus est per viam? Suus 'a lingua mortua." I asked him
how he knew. It was a dead language. That surprised a number of the
guys. "I admit, my French and German are probably mispronounced, I had no
one to speak them with." I didn't make any points with the professor, but I
did with most of the guys, except Frank Dupont. In any group, no matter
what the culture, there are always going to be bullies. He would be that
bully. If I let him...which I didn't. Naturally, we got in a fight. That
was a big no-no at Wentworth. We were taken to the headmaster's
office. They were going to kick me out! That's when Vincent came in
unasked.

"This is a closed meeting, Your Highness." Mr. Stockton said haughtily.

"Then you know full well who I am. This man has no defense here. Until
now. He has me." Vincent said firmly. "David was not the antagonist, Frank
was."

"That's not what I heard." Mr. Stockton claimed.

"From two of Frank's friends." Vincent reminded. "I'm David's friend and I
saw, too. I saw Frank throw the first punch. He attacked David."

"I'm to believe David's friend over Frank's friends."

Vincent never does this. At school, he was just one of the
guys. "No. You're supposed to believe the Crown Prince of Denmark. Or do I
take this even higher?" That was the only time he used his status to
dissuade anyone, but he did with the headmaster.

I was off the hook, but Vincent was not.

Vincent and I got along great. He was sharp, cultured and....I had to
admit. Handsome. These fancy British guys didn't undress in front of each
other. Not even in the bathroom. We had cubicles for that, which I didn't
understand. What was the big deal? We were all guys, we had the same
things, but these guys were so....shy? Prudes really. I was told it was a
thing with the Brits. I never bothered with the dressing or undressing in
private and did it right in front of Vincent. He did, too. Maybe those
descended from Vikings were a little less embarrassed by the human
body. Then maybe we should have been more reserved like our British
friends. I began noticing Vincent more and more. He was an athlete. We were
both the same age, but six months separated us. I had seen naked men
before. The ranch hands during the drives, they bathed, usually in rivers
and streams, didn't bother to hide from each other. They'd joke and slap
each other on the ass and general play. Mom always said there was no
difference between boys and men, we all played. Vincent was....elegant. His
musculature wasn't like those men. His muscles were supple, and I liked to
watch him move. Then I realized my own penis was getting hard as I
looked. I was well read, and I knew who was to do what with on a woman, but
this? Okay. I was two-spirited. Mom told me there were those in the
Shoshone tribe were two spirited and that most white men didn't believe or
know about it. In the tribe it wasn't unexpected. There would be those who
were two-spirited. Men and women can be two-spirited. Was I one of them? It
didn't scare me, but I thought it would Vincent. So, I just let it go.

Then Winter hit. I thought it got cold in Wyoming! But it was bone-chilling
cold in London because it was so damp. The rooms were heated by coal and
that year there was a coal shortage. You can't use what isn't there no
matter how rich you were. I was cold. Then one night, I hear a snort from
the other bed. Then heard Vincent come over carrying his comforter and
blanket.

"I am freezing. Can we share warmth?"

I moved over. "Come on in, but it's not much warmer here."

"If I add my blanket and comforter to yours, we make heat with our bodies,
yes?"

"Sure, Vinnie," I said smiling to myself.

"You know I don't like that name," Vincent said irritated.

"I do know that." I chuckled.

He tolerated more from me than most. Then I yelped when his cold feet hit
my leg.

"Sorry." Vincent chuckled. "Your feet aren't warm either."

The two of us did manage to warm up a little. It was later that morning
when I felt it. My back was to his chest, he was spooned up behind me and I
felt his erection. Nothing to be worried about, men often have erections in
the morning. Especially young men. He was rubbing it against me. I didn't
want to spook him, but I reached back and rubbed it lightly through his
nightshirt. Now, I have felt an erection before other than my own. He
gasped jerking away. I rolled over. "Where are you going?"

"Sorry...." Vincent began and prepared to get up.

"Stop pulling away!" I said. "Don't. I don't understand why people don't
see that there are men that can love a man."

"It wrong," Vincent said softly. "I thought you were asleep."

I rolled my eyes. "It's natural," I argued. "Men have loved men for
millennia. Probably since man came about." I looked at him angrily. "There
were military legions of us. Have you heard of those in Thebes? They were
all gay lovers. They figured a man defending the one they loved couldn't be
stopped. They were right."

"It's wrong," Vincent said again, but his fight was going out of it.

I nodded. "That's not what you were saying just now. You don't believe
that. Now you know I'm not asleep. It's okay."

Vincent looked a bit guilty. "I shouldn't have."

I frowned. "So, you don't like me."

His eyes were sad. "I do, but...." Then he looked at me. "It's against the
law. We could hang."

"They haven't hung anyone for it in years in the Americas." I shook my
head. "My family was raised where a person is not judged by his anatomy."

Vincent looked doubtful. "It's not illegal in the United States?"

I sighed sadly. "It is, but not with my mother's people."

Vincent looked interested. "She is not American?"

I grinned. "She's more American than most. She is Shoshone."

Vincent looked puzzled. "Shoshone? That is what?"

"Indian," I said sadly. "Or at least her mother was. Her father was white."

"So, you're a cowboy and an Indian?" Vincent asked and his smiled grew.

I nodded. "I am. My great-grandfather was Chief. My uncle is now Chief."

Vincent smiled. "An office passed down by blood?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"They don't mind you being...."

"Two-spirited," I said. I rolled closer to him. "I like you, Vincent. I
like you a lot. We can go on or just forget it. It's your choice." I looked
at him seriously. "I don't think they'd dare hang you. If I was caught,
they may lock me up and if they throw me out of England..." I shrugged. "I
can go home and be just fine. If they did anymore....Dad would be on them
in a heartbeat. We have to be careful, but..."

Vincent shrugged. "I've never..."

I waited for him to go on, but he just stopped. "What?" I asked. "Had sex?
You think I have? I don't know what we do. Not practically, anyway. I just
know I became aroused looking at you. I know what I would like to do, but I
won't. Unless you agree."

Vincent looked very worried but interested at the same time. "What do you
want to do?"

I shrugged. "For now, I would like to touch you. I want you to touch me."

Vincent smiled. "You want me to touch you? Okay. I'll touch you. You can
touch me."

I scooted next to him. "We can do it together."

Vincent looked a little more relaxed, but he smiled. "Have you ever kissed
anyone?"

"Other than my parents?" I smiled. "Twice." Then I grinned. "Why? Do you
want to kiss me?"

He moved slowly forward, pressing his lips to mine gently. Very lightly,
then slowly grew more intense.

So, for the next few hours, I felt his hand on my penis, which hardened
even more, as if there was any more to add, but there was. I felt him. Not
just his penis, but his muscles and the contours of his body. Again, he
pressed his lips against mine and grew more confident as he did. It felt
natural. Intoxicating. It was an expression of affection. Which I
returned. His desire and mine were like fires that started small and burst
to full blaze when lamp fuel was doused on it. Then I felt the warm sticky
mess he shot on me. And I him. To me, it was natural.

I was already in love with Vincent. What we shared only made it more
real. If nothing else happened, we found a good way to keep warm.

The coal shortage was dealt with and soon we were getting what we needed to
keep warm. Vincent and I had our own way of staying warm. We were careful
not to change anything anyone else from the outside could see. We were
friends. Sort of lovers, but they didn't need to know that. It was just
before Christmas vacation when Vincent came in our room.

"Let's go to Paris."

I looked up from the book I was studying. "Okay," I said. "When?"

"They will let us go in a week. We go to Paris, stay a week and then go to
Copenhagen." He said so simply.

"Will your family like it if you bring home someone for Christmas?" I
asked.

He shrugged. "Sure. I was told to make friends here. I have. Naturally, I
would include a friend who is from the other side of the world to bring
home for Christmas."

"So, why Paris?" I asked.

Vincent now was a little embarrassed. "Well....I was told about this
underground there. No questions and complete freedom."

I nodded. "Complete freedom about....sex?"

Now his ears were reddening at the tips. "Yes."

I got up. "This sounds more like a research trip." I grinned.

He smiled. "Well, yes...I like the stuff we do, it's just that....I know
there's more than just you making me shoot with your hand and for you,
too."

I nodded again. "You know what some of those other things are. So, do
I. Are you willing to do them?"

He leaned in kissing me gently. "With you."

His admission made my heart flutter. "I love you, Vincent."

He broke away a bit. "You do?"

I nodded. "There is no one I am willing to share a bed with, allow to touch
me in ways you do. Yes, I love you."

Vincent smiled. "I love you, too." Then he grinned, but he had a sly
look. "Do you want to go to my cousin's Christmas party?"

"Your cousin?" I asked. "I thought the only family you had here was..."
then I got it. "Oh, you mean Queen Victoria, don't you?"

Vincent nodded.

I shrugged. "Okay. It'll be formal, right?"

Vincent nodded again. "I have tailor coming this afternoon. He can get a
suit for you today as well."

"Why not?"

Being involved with a future king had its struggles, but it had a lot of
advantages. Like, the school operated on an Honor Code. No locked
doors. Except ours. Wentworth was not so trusting about the honor code when
it came to Vincent. We also had the largest of the student's rooms. He was
the relative of the Queen of England. So, he was invited to go to parties
and balls, most of which he couldn't go to because of scheduling. This
upcoming Christmas Party was not in conflict, so he was going and invited
me as his plus one. When the tailor arrived, it spread like wildfire we
were going somewhere important. The measurements were taken and we were
asked what we liked and didn't. The man was a French designer as well, so
it was going to be wonderful.

It was late that night, as Vincent and I lay together. "Vincent? How will
we get to Paris? You can't just go; you have to have guards."

Vincent nodded. "I will." He said rolling me under him. "The idea about
what...I did that day came from seeing...well....there are men like you and
me in Copenhagen. I have two guards that I saw were doing...something that
we do. So, I asked them where they went. They told me about this
Underground in Paris where there are a lot of men like us. They go there
often. They will be taking us there."

I looked startled. "You told them you were homosexual?"

He looked puzzled. "Well, not in so many words, but...many in the Royal
Houses there are homosexuals. They weren't that surprised."

I didn't like that. "Be careful, Vincent. Less trustworthy people could
take advantage of that knowledge."

He kissed me. "That is my intention."

We might be new to all this, but kissing was becoming second nature and we
were good at it. He was good at it.

Vincent explained to me how we were going to be presented to the Queen. How
I was expected to bow and never turn my back to her and never touch her.

"I touch you," I said. "Very personally, I might add."

Vincent grinned. "Yes, but technically you could be imprisoned if you do. I
let you. That's my choice." Then he chuckled. "Where and when I let you
could get you drawn and quartered."

I shook my head. "I won't do that there either."



The night of the party came as our carriage arrived. Our suits on and we
headed out. Capes, gloves, and top hats. We looked sharp, I thought.

"My father never would have imagined a lowly son of a ranch owner would be
presented to the Queen of England," I muttered as we got in the carriage.

"My father would never have imagined my dearest friend would be a cowboy
from America with Indian blood." Vincent pointed out with a grin. "But here
we are."



Okay. I prided myself on being informed about most things. I never could
have prepared for what I saw at Buckingham Palace. Buckingham Palace!! The
whole place was ablaze with light and opulent would not come close as a
fitting word of description. It was decorated for Christmas and I lost
track of the number of Christmas Trees on the way in. All lit, but watched
to be sure the candles didn't burn the palace down. Men and women were
dressed in their finest. The whole place just oozed elegance. There was
music. Dad wouldn't have cared for it. You couldn't dance to it. Then came
the fanfare and the announcement.

"Presenting Her Most Royal Majesty, Queen Victoria. Queen of Great Britain,
Ireland, and Empress of India." The man called as a very nicely dressed
tiny woman came and sat on what I had to guess was a throne. I should have
been nervous as hell, but Vincent was relaxed and because I was with him, I
was, too.

A man came over. "You're first, Your Highness." He told Vincent.

I had been told that was because he was a member of the royal family of
Denmark and not a resident. He had priority, therefore I did as his guest.

Vincent nodded and whispered to the man, who nodded and walked away.

"Prince Vincent Henrik, Crown Prince of Denmark and his school companion
from Wentworth Academy, David Richards, from the Wyoming Territories, the
United States of America."

"That was a mouthful," I said to Vincent so only he could hear. He just
chuckled. I let Vincent lead up to Queen Victoria. He was her cousin, after
all, I was nobody. Of course, Dad would have said I wasn't, and he was
right, but she was the Queen and Vincent a future king, so...how do we
compare? Of course, Vincent bowed, as did I.

"How is your mother, Vincent?" Queen Victoria asked.

"She does well, Your Majesty. Annabelle can be a handful. If not busy with
state affairs, she's busy with Annabelle. It keeps her quite busy." Vincent
replied.

"I was glad that she only included a nanny when she is queen. Annabelle is
but six years old. Of course, your mother is busy." Then Queen turned her
gaze to me. "From Wyoming, Mr. Richards. What is it your family does to
allow you this sort of life?"

"My family is of three generations of ranchers, Your Majesty," I
replied. "We raise cattle."

The Queen had a ghost of a smile. "A cowboy."

I bowed again. "Indeed, Your Majesty."

"You have boots and spurs?"

Why does everyone ask about the boots and spurs? At least Vincent asked
about a lasso. "In my trunk, You're Majesty. They didn't seem appropriate
for this occasion. I'm afraid they are back at school."

"I'd love to see them one day." She said. "As you are friends with Vincent,
I am sure you will be seeing me again."

"I will wear the boots and spurs for the next time I see you, and it would
be an honor." I nodded with a bow. Then we backed away.

Vincent hit me with his shoulder. "You sly dog." He chuckled. "You charmed
her." Then he said softly. "She doesn't charm easily."

I shrugged. "Just being myself." I smiled.

There were hundreds of people in attendance. People danced and mingled,
sipped punch and champagne. One was both! Little tidbits of food. Hors
d'oeuvres, excuse me. They were great. This was Buckingham Palace. They
better be. And I never was nervous. Not once! Of course, Vincent was
popular. Once they found out he was a member of the royal family he was
dancing with many women. Most women wanted him to meet their
daughters. Then I met a woman standing on the sidelines. Don't get the
wrong idea, she was my mother's age, but very beautiful with dark auburn
hair. She stood out because she wore a very green gown. No bustle on her. I
never understood those. The gown was Christmas green and unlike any other
woman had on. It was elegant. She was elegant, but the real difference with
her was the look in her eyes. She had a sharp look. You knew she could not
only put two and two together but knew beyond the shadow of a doubt she had
the right answer and didn't ask for confirmation about what she knew was
right. She was stunning. The way she was looking to the dance floor and you
knew she wanted to be out there. So, I walked up to her.

"Forgive me, Madam," I said bowing slightly. "You seem to really want to be
out there." I put my hand out. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm David
Richards. Brash American."

The woman's eyes sparkled. "I should say you are brash if you're doing the
introductions." She extended her hand, palm down. She was a lady. "Lady
Beverly Haversham."

Hey. I can be upper crust. I kissed her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you,
Lady Haversham. Care to dance?"

Her eyes grew. "I have a daughter about your age."

"So?" I asked. "My mother loves to dance. She can cut a rug with the
best. My father would be happier with a jig or something. Grandmother,
too." I leaned forward. "A beautiful woman shouldn't be on the sidelines."

Her eyes were green and sparkled again. "Why not." She put her champagne
punch down and took my hand.

We danced a few dances. While she asked me about me. "So, you came with
Prince Vincent."

I nodded. "I did. He's my roommate back at Wentworth Academy."

"That's very prestigious. You must be smart." She said. "Vous êtes
intelligent ? Vous êtes un vrai cow-boy ?"

I smiled; my French had gotten much better now that I had someone to speak
it to at school. She said I must be smart and asked if I was a cowboy. Hey,
we were rare in this part of the world. "Je suis un vrai cowboy." I
grinned. "Versuchen wir jetzt Deutsch?" I asked if we were going to try
German now.

She laughed. "Forgive me, but you are a rare person, Mr. Richards. A
self-professed cowboy, raised in the Wild West and speaks French and
German. Are there many cowboys like you there?"

"No," I said sadly. "I am, as far as I know, the only one. It's the lack of
teaching, not that they're not smart. I had an unusual life. I have a
unique father and brilliant mother."

She looked at me oddly. "You say that with such pride about your mother."

"Why shouldn't I? She keeps the ranch running. She does the books and
ledgers. She's well read."

She looked at me like that was an odd thing to say. "It sounds like you
respect women."

I nodded. "Oh, I do. My grandmother is Shoshone, in her tribe, it is the
grandmothers that make laws and decide the punishment. Women have an equal
vote."

Her smile that said she was delighted to hear the news. "You are Indian as
well? Remarkable."

"My mother swears women will be able to vote in the United States soon,
perhaps here as well."

Lady Haversham laughed at that. "I hope so. My husband is in the House of
Lords. Such a bunch of rowdy little boys. Always squabbling like
eight-year-olds. They could do with a woman in the House of Lords."

I nodded. "Sure. Women are more than capable. See your queen. There have
been many women leaders. There will be again. Mother talks about the world
cycle and it will come again."

She smiled. "It is so refreshing to hear a young person like you say these
things." Then she sighed. "You dance wonderfully, but five dances? People
will talk."

I bowed to her. "We can't have that. It was an honor to dance with you,
Lady Haversham."

She curtsied quickly. "I think we can dispense with that. Call me Beverly."

I kissed her hand again. "It was also wonderful to meet you, Beverly." Dad
always said it was important to make friends. How true this will be.



Vincent and I got back before dawn. The school was emptying out as the guys
were going to their homes for the holidays. They still wanted to know where
we'd been. The smell of rich foods on us, wine, and perfume told them it
was special, but Vincent wasn't telling and I didn't want to.



The next day a ship was leaving. Vincent's family's ship to take us to
Paris. The two guards that knew where we going seemed likable enough. It
was a short ride from London to Paris and the ship took us upriver to the
city of lights. We got there that next evening. Vincent leading the way.

"Trust me." Vincent encouraged and we went to a fashionable part of Paris
and checked into a plush hotel. He got a suite. His family came to Paris
enough to merit their own suite. Well, not theirs exclusively, but for
royal families from every nation. I have to admit, this hotel out shown any
hotel I'd been to so far. It paid to have a crown prince as a best
friend. Bendt and Nakia were our two guards. Both spoke English,
barely. Fortunately, I spoke several others now, so we got along fine. I
was even learning Danish. It wasn't that I was so smart, languages weren't
that hard for me. The more I used it, the better I got. I suppose it was
because I learned others so early, at least the written forms
earlier. Russian was hardest to learn and I didn't get that as
quickly. Paris was beautiful. I understood better why it was called the
city of lights.

The first night we stayed in, had dinner and went to bed. The next day
started late and we walked around Paris. I shopped for Mom and Dad, got a
few things for each of them, and grandmother and had them shipped to
Wyoming. Mom and Dad had given me an allowance, which I used, but knew I
didn't have to worry about it. That next night, Bendt and Nakia led us
toward the seedier part of Paris. I found out why they called it the
Underground. It truly was Underground. Quite literally, the sewers. The
underground passages wove miles under the streets of Paris near the river
Seine and stretched throughout the city. There was a lot going on down
here. Things that the world above didn't acknowledge or just didn't want to
know about. Both Bendt and Nakia knew their way and led us winding to where
others like them, Vincent, and I, were gathered. There was literally
another city below the streets of Paris. Here men of all ages and types
gathered to enjoy each other's company. Nothing was too risqué. Men
paraded in dresses, others with nothing on at all. There were large metal
barrels in which fires burned to keep the cold and dampness away. Others
were just men that sat around at tables, drinking wine or beer, smoking,
and some were kissing without embarrassment. Others were touching one
another in places you just didn't do in public, but we weren't out in
public. There was even a show going on stage that had been set up. Three
men danced in dresses to a very suggestive song, the end of which they
threw out their bottoms, skirts up showing their bare asses. It was a
little shocking at first, but soon I saw the freedom these men
sought. Bendt and Nakia stayed close by but allowed us to enjoy our time,
looking, and watching the shows. In the end, I felt more at home here than
I did almost anywhere. Then I noticed some men doing far more than just
touching or kissing.

Vincent stared at a couple who were clearly having sex with each
other. "Would you do that?"

I watched as two men came together and one inserted his erection in the
other man's ass.

I shrugged. "With the right man, I don't see why not."

"You'd do that to me?" Vincent asked.

I chuckled. "Do you want me to?"

Vincent looked a little uncertain. "I don't know." He admitted. "Would you
let me do that to you?"

"Are you asking me?" I asked.

"I don't know."

I gave Vincent a look. "You did know what homosexuals do, didn't you? When
they have sex."

He shrugged. "I knew, but...now that I've seen it...."

I nodded. "You've changed your mind?"

Vincent shook his head. "No...it's just....new."

"Ma plus jolies, tu es très jeune." A voice said behind us.

I turned to see one of the performers. "We are young, but we're searching."

The man nodded. "The desire has you and you don't know what to do." He said
in accented English.

"Knowing what to do, isn't necessarily the problem. The mechanics are a
bit...eye-opening." I said with a smile.

The man nodded. "It is for most at first. Soon, it will be second
nature. Would you mind if I joined you?"

Vincent and I indicated a chair near our table.

"You two are lovers?" The man asked.

I waited for Vincent to answer, but when he didn't I nodded. "We are."

The man chuckled. "You are very open." He said to me.

I shrugged. "Why shouldn't I be here? Clearly, there are no secrets here."

The man smiled. "Why indeed be secretive here? Your accent is
different. Where are you from?"

"Wyoming Territory, the United States of America," I answered.

"American? You don't seem as surprised by all this as your friend here."

I laughed. "Because it's not new for me. New as in I haven't seen it
before, but knew it happens and what."

Vincent shook his head. "I knew it happened, but it's kind of...alien. Then
so is sex in general."

"We came here to find out, what we should do if we continue," I explained.

The man nodded. "To love another human who is the same gender is a bit
different. Then again, loving any person you have to learn."

So, for the next hour or so, this man answered all our questions. My
questions. Then he ended with. "Listen, my pretty ones. If you truly love
each other, there is nothing that should be too hard to overcome. Just be
honest with each other. It will come."

Then a new act got on stage. And he showed why he was on stage. Let's just
say, God had not shortchanged him. In fact, God overcompensated him for
something. I swear his penis was over a foot long and thick! It hung
practically to his knees! That was relaxed. He made his money when he let
men touch it. Yes, he made money off me. I just had to feel that monster to
see if it were real. It was.

Being in a seedy part of town did have its dangers. Like the man that
wanted what we didn't want to give away. He was scared off when Bendt and
Nakia, who weren't small men came to our defense, so between the four of us
versus the one man, there was no problem.

The next few nights we were there every time. As normal, the more we saw,
the less strange it seemed. I did draw the line when I saw something I
didn't want. A man used a whip on another man.

"In no way do I want to be hurt." I said to Vincent.

Vincent nodded. "Absolutely not."

"And no dresses." I said.

"Not going to happen." Vincent swore. "I've never considered being a
girl. Even for a moment."



Then it was time Vincent went back home to Denmark. Taking me with
him. Seeing Copenhagen was very nice, then I saw the palace. Or should I
say, palaces? There were four, all facing a circular courtyard. All
arranged in that circle. Arriving by coach, we entered the one that the
royal family lived in. We were escorted into the room preferred by the
family. There I met the King and Queen of Denmark. Vincent's father,
Fredrick was a nice man. Large, like my father, only blond and in his
forties. That explained Vincent's size. Maregete, his mother was
dark-haired like Vincent. Very pretty, but somewhat aloof. I guess she
needed to get to know me. His little sister, Annabelle. Maregete was the
cousin of Queen Victoria, though I learned it was a couple of generations
back. She didn't quite take the liking of me others had.

After the introductions were done. Maregete turned to her husband.

"Jeg stadig sige, en barbar fra Amerika ikke er den rigtige ven for vores
søn." She said thinking I wouldn't know what she said.

Now, my Danish wasn't perfect, but I got she thought I was a barbarian.

"Undskyld mig, deres Majestæt, men jeg er ikke helt uden instruktion
og jeg blev undervist manerer." I said, telling her I wasn't totally a
barbarian and I had been taught manners. That seemed to startle her. She
had not anticipated I would speak Danish at all.

"I told you, Mother." Vincent grinned a little meanly. "He's very smart. He
learned that in a few months."

His father chuckled. "You must understand, Mr. Richards. The Queen is
always looking out for our son."

I nodded. "I understand."

"How many languages do you speak?" His mother asked.

I thought. "Well, English of course. German, French, I'm still learning
Danish and Russian. We have an Italian at school, I'm learning that and
Spanish. Four or five. Including Shoshone."

"I'm not familiar with Shoshone." His father said.

"It's the Indian tribe my grandmother is from," I explained.

The little girl came over. "Is it true? Vincent said you are a cowboy."

She was a pretty little girl with long dark brown hair. I nodded. "I am."
Though I was tired of saying so.

The king snickered. "Your trunks were taken to the Christiansborg
castle. As promised, you have a place of your own now."

Vincent grinned. "Thank you, Father."

The king nodded. "Dinner and gatherings will still be the same."

Vincent nodded. "Understood."

The other castles were often used, but not lived in until a neighboring
king or queen came to town or relatives, which was the same thing. The one
we were given was where all the dinners and banquets were served. Vincent
led me through the corridors and into a large bedroom.

"You royals don't do anything small, do you?" I gazed at the large room.

Vincent shrugged. "I suppose not." Then he turned. "Listen, David. I don't
know what you expect. I have obligations. Duties."

I nodded. "Okay."

"I mean, in the future." He went on. "Like marrying and producing an heir."

I nodded. "I know that."

He sighed. "Do you?" He ran a hand through his hair. "I wasn't sure I
did. Until I came home." He looked sadly at me. "Whether I love you or not,
I will have to marry and produce an heir."

"And this is going to happen when?"

Vincent shook his head. "Not for a while, I've got school to finish and
college..."

I nodded. "We've got six to eight years." Then I grinned. "Unless you have
a crystal ball or a clairvoyant on staff, we may not be alive. So..." I
said as I backed him toward the bed.

He was smiling now. "I just don't want to deceive you."

Pushing him back on the bed. "I came into this with my eyes wide open," I
said unfastening his pants. "I knew what the future had for you. So, for
now, let's just enjoy each other." I said kissing him to which he responded
quickly.

We hadn't gotten to some of the things we learned about in Paris
sexually. Not yet. We did include some of the oral things. Vincent was very
sensitive. Again, we had to be careful with the outside world. We spent
every night with each other, making sure two separate beds were messed
up. We had a very good time that year. Then back to school come January.

Vincent was an athlete, as I said earlier. He was on the rowing team. We
hadn't heard the last from Frank Dupont. We were facing another school in
rowing. That was when I saw one of Frank's friends offering water to the
guys, but I noticed he came to Frank before giving Vincent any water. That
was when I noticed Frank empty a bottle of something in the water that was
offered to Vincent. I was far enough away that I couldn't stop Vincent from
taking the water and drinking before I got there.

I grabbed Mike, Frank's friend, by the arm. "What did Frank put in the
water?" I demanded.

Mike looked surprised. "What? Nothing."

I grabbed Vincent's arm. "Frank poured something from a bottle in the
water," I told Vincent. Then back to Mike. "What was it?"

Mike was now pale. "I don't know. It was supposed to be a joke."

I nodded growing angrier. "A joke to do what?"

Mike looked a little frightened. "Make him have to go to the bathroom."

I had a feeling what it was. I nodded. "How much water was in the bucket?
You passed out a lot before Vincent."

 "Not much." Mike shrugged.

Vincent was looking a little uncomfortable and I heard Vincent's stomach
make a sound. "What was it?"

I shook my head. "It looked like the stuff we give our horses and cattle
back in Wyoming. You didn't smell or taste anything?"

Vincent shook his head, but you could tell he was starting to feel whatever
it was taking effect.

"It's odorless and tasteless. Looks and tastes like water." I grabbed Mike
by the shirt. "Too much of that can kill Vincent." I grabbed Vincent. "We
need to get back inside. Now!"

Now Vincent was looking like he was cramping. "We better."

Mr. Murdock, the team coach was walking over. "The race is about to begin,
where's Vincent going?"

I looked back at Mike. "You had better tell Mr. Murdock the truth about
this joke. Or be prepared to tell Queen Victoria why you and Frank planned
an assault on her cousin and the future King of Denmark. Get the doctor up
to the men's lavatory yesterday!" I shouted as I rushed Vincent onward.

Mike was now looking quite upset. He was in deep trouble and he knew
it. "I'm not going to make it," Vincent said through gritted teeth.

I hurried him along and as soon as we got to the men's bathroom, he was
already pulling his pants down and barely got to the toilet when it all
hell broke loose. He ended up flushing about five times but the cramps came
and he couldn't stop them. Then he had nothing else to purge and all that
happened now were sharp pains and cramping. I gave him as much privacy as I
could but never left his side. I ran to the closet and got hand clothes and
held them underwater and brought them back to wipe his sweating brow.

"I guess there's no doubt that you love me," Vincent said trying to laugh,
but he was so wracked with cramps it came out broken. "To stick by
me...now."

I chuckled trying to keep a little humor Vincent had wanted. "You have
smelled better." I nodded, kissing the top of his sweaty head. "The
question has been answered though."

His eyebrows rose. "What question?"

"Royal shit does stink," I said with a smile.

He wanted to laugh but groaned instead as another cramp hit and all he
could let out was a groan.

The doctor came in to assess the problem, gave him some medication to ease
the cramps.

Mr. Stockton, the school's headmaster came in. "What happened?"

Mr. Murdock explained what Mike had told him. Mr. Stockton was now white in
shock. "This can be proven?"

I rose from next to Vincent. "I think Vincent's current condition is proof
enough. I am a brash American rancher, Mr. Stockton, but I know what we
give to the horses and steer when they are constipated. It was a horse
laxative. Equine."

The doctor looked at Mr. Stockton. "He is correct and whoever orchestrated
this....joke apparently didn't realize the size of the animal and man is
very different and gave the poor boy too much."

I've never seen Mr. Stockton so angry. The man was literally shaking and
turning red. "Get Frank Dupont and whoever else was in on this, in my
office. Now!" He demanded. "Is Vincent going to be okay?"

The doctor sighed. "He should be if I can stop the cramping. If
Mr. Richards hadn't seen what they put in the water..."

Mr. Stockton moaned. "The Queen's going to have my head." Then he looked at
the doctor. "Is there any more we need to do? Should we send him to the
hospital?"

The doctor shook his head. "The medicine I gave him seems to be
working. The cramps seem to be lessening. No, no hospital. He will need bed
rest. He may not be able to eat anything for a few hours, or even days."

"Has anyone located Mr. Dupont?" Mr. Stockton asked angrily to Mr. Murdock
and the assistant coach who had come in during this discussion.

"Not yet." Mr. Murdock said. "We do have Mr. Barker."

"I want to see him." Mr. Stockton said firmly and walked out. "In my
office!"

The medicine was working and the cramps did let up. Then the doctor and
Mr. Murdock were going to help him up when Vincent jerked his arm
away. "Not you, please. I trust David."

I helped him back to our room and out of his clothes and into bed. He was
very weak. I lay beside him a while. Then a knock caused me to answer the
door.

It was Mr. Stockton. "I've let the palace know what has happened. I've also
spoken with Mike Barker. He told me what Frank Dupont had planned. It was a
dirty trick."

I nodded. "A dirty trick that could have been a deadly trick. They poisoned
Vincent."

Mr. Stockton nodded. "Yes. We haven't found Frank Dupont yet."

"He'll turn up eventually," I said. "Or be on the run forever."

Frank eluded everyone for several days. The next day a royal carriage
arrived and Queen Victoria got out of the carriage. Now Mr. Stockton was
beside himself in near terror. The Queen came in and went to Mr. Stockton's
office where Mr. Stockton stood and bowed to the woman.

"It's wonderful to see you, Your Majesty, even under such tragic
circumstance." Mr. Stockton said nervously.

The Queen nodded and wasted no time. "Is my cousin better?"

Mr. Stockton nodded. "I am told he does well, Your Majesty."

"Is Mr. Richards in class?" She asked.

Mr. Stockton shook his head. "I don't believe so. Vincent will only allow
David egress and do anything for him. Then again, Mr. Richards insists he
is the only one to do that."

"I would speak with him." The Queen said and it wasn't something she would
consider wouldn't be done.

That was when a fellow student came rushing on our door. "The Queen is
here. She wants to see you, David."

I nodded rising from a chair near Vincent where I had been reading a
book. "Sure," I said putting the book down. I patted Vincent on the arm who
just nodded. "Be right back."

I entered Mr. Stockton's office and turned to the Queen. "Your Majesty." I
bowed.

She waved her hand. "Yes, yes. Is Vincent alright?"

"He is," I answered. "He still can't eat more than soup and some bread, but
he's recovering."

She nodded and stood. "I will see him." She said walking out the
door. "Which way to your room?"

For such a tiny woman, she just had power coming out of her shadow! Once
there she sat by Vincent in the very chair I had used to read in.

"Vincent, I will give you two choices." She began as she sat. "You can go
back to Copenhagen, or move to the Castle at Windsor. Your choice."

Vincent looked annoyed. "Frank is an idiot."

She nodded. "Nonetheless, those are the choices. What'll it be?"

"David moves with me," Vincent said.

The Queen nodded. "Fine. A young man your age needs friends his
age. Arrangements have begun. I will be at the Osborne House. Windsor is
close enough to the school to not be an inconvenience. A guard will
accompany you to, during and from school. No exceptions!"

Vincent nodded with a sigh. "Understood."

What she didn't see was me, going through my trunks. When I walked up to
her, she glanced over. Then laughed. A queenly laugh, but a laugh
nonetheless! "You are a man of your word."

I shrugged. "You wanted to see me in my boots and spurs. I'm afraid my
chaps are at home."

She nodded with a chuckle. Then rose. "I will see you when you arrive." And
she left.

That day, there were men coming and going from our room. Vincent got up for
a while and sat in a nearby chair.

"David," Vincent said softly, he was still very weak. Men were out of the
room at the moment. "I want to give you something."

I stopped packing my trunks. "Oh?"

Vincent nodded and brought out a small box. "I was going to give it to you,
but under the circumstances, now is the best time." He gave the box to me.

Opening the box, I saw a ring. It was a signet ring for the House of
Henrik. I looked at Vincent puzzled.

"It's a Ring of Trust," Vincent said. "Meaning I trust you completely and
gives you access to me at all times. Even my father and mother. You will be
free to come and go as you please. More important, you can speak for me
when necessary. At least in Copenhagen. It will work here in London, but it
absolutely will work in Denmark. You're my best and dearest friend. I can
think of no other I would give it to. I do trust you."

I sat down upon hearing this. "You trust me that much?"

"I love you. Of course, I trust you." Vincent grinned. "I think under the
circumstances, you should know that." He chuckled. "Just show the ring to
any guard or official and it's done."

I took the ring out. "What finger?"

He shrugged. "Whichever it fits."

I nodded and put it on my right forefinger. It fit.

"My father gave two in his life. Both friends he had in the past. My
grandfather gave one. And I'm giving one." Vincent said.

"I will never let you down."

"And I pray I don't let you down," Vincent said seriously. "It's yours for
life."



The school was anxious to know what was going on, but being the typical
royal, Vincent said nothing about it. Who was I to say anything? We rode to
Windsor Castle. There we met Bert. He was officially running the
castle. The workings, cleaning, and overseeing everything that happened.

"I am Mr. Davenport. I will be overseeing your stay here at Windsor
Castle." The man bowed slightly. "I will assure you are awake at the proper
times to get to school, and plan all meals, housekeeping. Should I know of
anything you cannot, or will not eat?"

I shrugged. "I'm good."

Vincent shook his head. "No."

Bert nodded. "Very good. I will escort you to the suite of rooms for your
stay." He led the way.

Our rooms were smaller than Christianborg, then again, it was a three room
suite. A bedroom for Vincent, a bedroom for me and an adjoining living area
for us to share all with fireplaces. Four if you included the bathroom. The
English didn't waste heat in Winter.

"On the palace grounds, you are free to go as you please. If you go off the
grounds, you must be escorted by guards." Bert informed. "Dinner is at 7
pm. Boys often need their privacy, as will be the case here. A knock will
always be first before we enter when you are in residence." And with that,
he left.

Vincent looked at me. "Sorry about this."

I looked surprised. "Why? I'm living in a castle. Life could be much, much
worse."

Vincent nodded with a chuckle.

Dinner was very good. It had to be. We were in a palace. We dined alone. I
was good with that. It was weird that there were people in the background
everywhere. There seemed to be dozens at doors, in the dining room. It
would take a while for me to see beyond them. That put a stopper in our
free conversations.

It was a few days later when we were summoned to come before the
Queen. Vincent and I went as called. Entering the area where Queen Victoria
often held office for people, we saw Frank Dupont. He looked a little
meeker than I had ever seen him.

"David." Queen Victoria said. "Is this the classmate that you saw put
Equine in the water he gave to Vincent?"

The truth was, I felt sorry for Frank. He'd done a very stupid thing. "He
is, Your Majesty."

She nodded. "Vincent, his punishment is yours."

Vincent looked uncertain at what to do. "I am unsure what should be
done. What he did was foolhardy, but I can't believe he wanted to do more
than cause embarrassment to me."

The Queen nodded. "Take your time."

I stepped forward. "Your Majesty, if I may?"

She looked at me, but looked at me and gave a nod. "As you are wearing the
sign of Royal Trust, you may."

"Why, Frank? Why did you do it?"

Frank was crying, not because of what he'd done, but because he knew his
future was ruined. Ruined because he got caught. "I never meant to cause
problems; it was supposed to be a joke. He'd have to run to the bathroom
and stay a while. That's all."

I nodded. "You put enough Equine in that water for several horses. It could
have killed him. What did he do that made you hate him so much?"

"I didn't know how much to use," Frank said. "I was angry at him. Because
of his choice."

"His choice of me as a friend, instead of you?" I asked. "Why not choose me
as the victim?"

"You were always together. You would have been the one if you were ever
alone. Vincent was off, getting ready for the completion. Yes. He should
have picked someone else as his friend. Not some barbarian from the
States!" Even in as much trouble as he was in, his hatred of me, or my
embarrassment to him having been picked as Vincent's friend was still
evident in his voice.

"Well, you've certainly shown Vincent the errors of his ways on that
count." I nodded. "You are now known by name in England by Her Majesty
Queen Victoria and will be unforgotten by the future King of Denmark. Not
for something noble." I said sadly. I looked at Vincent. "Be mindful, his
crime was idiocy, not malicious."

Vincent nodded. "I'd say his punishment has been carried out. I trust his
schooling has been done at Wentworth? He won't be returning there?"

Queen Victoria nodded. "It has."

Vincent shrugged. "That is enough, I think." He looked at Frank. "You could
have been a friend, but instead you do this, making yourself known
for...what? You don't like my friends? Well, that's too bad." Vincent
walked over and stood right in front of him. "I will never forget that."
And with that Vincent left the room.

I was in an awkward position here. I bowed to the Queen. "With your
permission, Your Majesty."

She nodded and waved me off which I took the opportunity to back
out. Remember, never turn your back to the queen!

Back in our rooms, I found Vincent on his bed, staring at nothing.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No." Then he sat up. "Is the doors locked?"

I went to our main door and locked it, then came back in. He was removing
his pants; the shirt was already gone. He rolled over.

"I want you to take me," Vincent said. "I am giving myself to you."

That was the one thing we hadn't done yet.

"Vince," I said. "Are you sure?"

"I've recovered from the assault." Vincent nodded. "So much of my life, I
have no control. I do this and I'm choosing you. Yes. If you want to."

Knowing what to do and doing are not always the same, but we did
it. Slowly. I knew it hurt. At first. Then he was pushing against me and
panting, urging me harder and faster. It wasn't long and I hit a portion of
him that made him let out a little cry and he shot his load on the towel we
put on the sheets as I shot mine in him. He rolled over and hugged me.

"I love you, David."

I kissed him. "I love you, too, Vince."

Now, what we did and where we were doing it could be...well...let's be
blunt. Stinky. We were told what we needed to do. Vincent had prepared. If
I wanted the same, I had to prepare. The fact that Vincent had prepared
meant this was not just spontaneous. He'd thought about it and wanted it.

We both knew what was happening. We were falling more and more in love. We
also knew the future was going to hurt emotionally. Neither of us wanted to
give the other away.

We finished the year at Wentworth. We did have some other friends at
Wentworth. One in particular. Marco Vincelli, he was the son of a wealthy
Italian. He was more than just a great guy; he was funny and smart. He
invited us to his villa for the summer. We agreed to visit for a month. The
week before going to Venice, we went to Paris. Sure enough, we met the same
man we had months before.

"Ah, my young pretties." The man greeted. "Still together, I hope."

Vincent nodded. "We are. You didn't tell us about that one spot that makes
things....explosive."

The man laughed. "You found it! Bravo." He literally applauded. "Well, some
men don't have that. I didn't want to say it if you were ones that didn't."

I grinned at him. "Apparently, we both have them."

The man clapped again. "Wonderful." Then he looked at us seriously. "Love
is so important. Never lose each other." And then he left.

We did enjoy the shows and freedom we had underground. We also got to see
Bendt and Makia doing it, it was in a darker corner, but they were doing
more than kissing. Vincent and I would not do that. Not in view of everyone
there even in a dark corner. Seeing us doing something that intimate? No. I
was not an athlete but was in good shape and Vincent was an athlete, so
neither of us would be embarrassed if anyone saw our bodies, it
just...doing it in the open? That sort of cheapened it for us.

The month with Marco was nice, but Marco was a playboy, he loved the
ladies. He was handsome enough to have a following and wealthy enough that
he never came home alone. He was always trying to get us to go out with
him, his date and two other young women he thought we'd like. He was off
target by miles. Many a night there, in the dark of night, I'd feel the
covers moved back and Vincent would slide in beside me. That was when it
was perfect for us. We should have known the secret we shared would one day
be known by others. It was the last week of our stay when Marco came to us.

"My friends," Marco said slowly, sitting at the breakfast table. "I have
something to say."

Both Vincent and I looked at Marco.

"I will only say, it made me curious why whoever I think would be good for
you two, it was not good enough." He said. "So, I watched you. You were
always so close, and I just thought...well, Vincent is just being careful
and David just wasn't going to do what his friend would not. Then I
wondered if there was another explanation. I followed you, Vincent." He
held his hand up. "I assure you. This will remain our secret as long as I
live. I know you are lovers."

I was alarmed, but Vincent was calm. "So, now what?" Vincent asked.

Marco shrugged. "For me, it's no big deal. In fact, in Italy, it happens
quite often. Now, I don't know if it's just for fun. It often is here or if
it's more serious. To me, it looks very serious. Just so you are aware. I
know. It will remain a secret." And he left.

Vincent sighed. "That could have been worse."

"Well, if we're invited again, we know we're okay here." I shrugged.



It was on the way back, we got a huge surprise. We stopped in Paris
again. It was in the underground where a man, unknown to us stopped.

"That's an interesting ring." The man commented. "I've seen only one other
before."

Vincent looked at the man as if the man had lost his mind. "Not a ring like
this."

The man nodded. "Oh, yes. The dragons, two over here, one below and three
over here. All blue except to below the one blue dragon, a gold one here."
He thought. "I remember because I thought it was very beautiful. I haven't
seen either of the men in a few years."

"Two men? What did they look like?" I asked.

"Both were very handsome. The one with the ring was a little shorter. Dark
hair and brown eyes. The other was a large man, blond, and bluish-green
eyes." The latter man had to be Vincent's father.

Vincent swallowed. "Really? And they were here?"

"Yes." He chuckled. "I loved it when they let go and...well, they both had
nice bodies."

"They were..." Vincent couldn't find the words. He pointed to two men; one
was giving oral satisfaction to another. "Doing that?"

"That." The man nodded, "And that." He pointed out where one man was
putting his erect penis in the ass of the other. "They seemed to like doing
to each other."

Now suddenly Vincent wanted to leave. I had to rush to keep up with him.



I finally stopped him when we were in the suite.

"Vince," I said. "Stop!"

Vincent turned. "My father has been here! Below." He stressed.

I nodded. "Okay. What are you upset about? Exactly."

"My father has been here! Only a couple of years ago!" He said louder and
angrier.

"Yes!" I agreed just as loud. "You said yourself, the life of a royal is
demanding. You have duties and obligations. We could be doing the same if
you still want a relationship with me after you marry." I couldn't imagine
Dad doing it to Mom, but...he was a man. But he didn't have the obligations
that Fredrick had. "I can't know how you're feeling. But cut the man some
slack, Vince. He's human."

Vincent paced. "All these years, he's told me about my duty. To him and to
Denmark. And I find out...."

"What? That he loved someone other than your mother?" I asked.

"Yes!"

"So will you!" I pointed out. "He did his duty. There are you and
Annabelle! He did what he was supposed to do. Are you going to tell your
wife and children that you've been mating with me?" I asked. "Or that I was
asked to mate with you and have many times?"

Vincent sat in a chair. "I just don't know what to think."

I nodded. "I understand that." I ran fingers through Vincent's hair. "But
maybe....just maybe, your Dad has someone in his life that makes him feel
the way you say you do when you're with me. At least I hope you feel good
about it."

Vincent blew a breath he seemed to be holding. "I want to believe that." He
wrapped his arms around me pulling me down. "You know I love you. I feel
so....perfect when we're together."

I held him to me. "Then let your father have that."



Because of this, we spent an extra week in Paris. Vincent did not want to
return home just yet. We were going to Copenhagen next.



When we got to Copenhagen, I will admit seeing King Frederick, well...he
had some polish removed where I was concerned. Now, he was more a man than
a king. He was still king, but human.

Vincent was welcomed home. Then Vincent asked to speak to his father
alone. I didn't know why exactly, but I just hoped Vincent could contain
himself. They were in the king's private office for about twenty minutes
when they came out. Vincent just smiled at me. King Fredrick just nodded to
me and we continued as if nothing happened.

Later that night I had to know. "What did you say to your father?"

Vincent grinned. "Well, I asked to go with you, as you invited before when
we living at Wentworth, going with you home to Wyoming."

"You did." It wasn't a question.

"I did." Vincent nodded.

"Your mother will not like that," I said.

Vincent shrugged. "Dad's going to insist." He kissed me.

"What did you say?" I asked.

"I started off asking if he liked the lubrication you got in the
Underground of Paris."

My eyes told him I was shocked. "You didn't."

Vincent nodded. "I did. I told him that I knew and I was okay with it. I
then said you were my lover, like the one he took to the Paris
underground."

"Vinnie!" I said using the name Vincent hated on purpose. "You can't
blackmail the King of Denmark!"

Vincent's eyes narrowed. "First, I hate that name. Second, he's the King of
Denmark to you and the rest of the world, but to me he's Dad. I will need
him on our side to convince Mother." Then his eyes narrowed more, but the
twinkle was still there. "You know, I can take the ring back. We are known
for changing our minds."

I nodded. "I take it that's the Imperial we." I grinned. "Well, I'm sure I
can think of something to keep it." I began unbuttoning his shirt. "Will
this help?" My hands running over his skin as I guided him back.

He smirked. "Well, it's a start." He guided my hands down to his
pants. "Keep going and we'll see."



That summer I got to see a lot of Denmark. A lot of Vincent. Mostly by
horseback, Denmark that is, not Vincent. I did not realize it but I had to
have new clothes for the next year of school. So did Vincent. We'd grown! I
was now over six feet. Yeah! Vincent was over six feet and three inches! He
was a big Viking.

It was a month or so into the school year when I got a letter from
Mom. Well, it was a first in a while. The pony express didn't run
overseas. Mom said she and Dad were coming in the summer. I was thrilled. I
hadn't seen Dad in two years. Mom before that! So, I mentioned it to
Vincent.

"Your parents are coming. Okay. Is there a problem?"

How did I say this? "Well, Mom is great. But she is half Shoshone. It
shows."

Vincent nodded. "Are you afraid of the reaction she'll receive here because
she's half Indian?"

I nodded. "I am."

Vincent looked smug. "Too bad there's no one here that would help."

I frowned. "You can't ask Queen Victoria to show Mom around."

"Not her, Dummy." Vincent grinned. "That certain someone you charmed a
couple of years ago. A certain Lady?"

I looked up. "Lady Haversham?" We'd met on several other occasions since
the first Christmas Ball at the palace. "Do you think she would?"

He shrugged. "You're underestimating that Richards' charm. I'll guarantee
she will." Grinning at me.

"Where should they stay when they're here?"

"You are so smart, but..." Vincent looked like he couldn't believe I
asked. "Where do you think? Here!"

"I wouldn't know how to ask!"

Vincent nodded. "Leave that to me."



That Christmas and we were at Buckingham Palace again. Introduced first
again. That was because Vincent was the next royal attending that wasn't a
resident, remember? The Queen received us well. Then I get a tap on the
shoulder with a folded fan later.

I turned to see Beverly. "You've grown." The year her gown was a bright
Christmas red.

I nodded with a grin. "We do that for a few years as I understand it." I
bowed slightly. "Care to dance?"

"With you? Always." She replied and we hit the floor again. "My daughter,
Francesca is still growing, I can't keep that girl in clothes."

"I'm sure she doesn't mind shopping." I grinned. Then I figured now was a
good a time as any. "I have a request for you."

"If I can," Beverly answered.

"My mother is coming in June." I began. "Let me be blunt. She is half
Indian and well...they might not be receptive here."

Beverly nodded. "Consider it done. I will be happy to show her around."

"I just don't want her Indian heritage to cause her conflict," I explained.

"I assure you. No one will dare give her problems." Beverly assured.

I knew no one would give Beverly a hard time.



The Queen sent me word that my parents would be welcome at Windsor
Castle. In fact, she, the Queen, said she was anxious to meet them.



Another year at Wentworth and I couldn't wait for my parents to arrive. I
hadn't really told them I was staying at Windsor Castle. I got my mail from
school. Then came the day when I was told the ship had arrived. I got a
carriage and met them at the pier, Vincent came with me! And the guards to
keep Vincent safe. When I saw them, I realized how much I missed
them. Knowing they were on the other side of the world sort of kept you
from pining to go home. It was a major undertaking to go and come back. My
father saw me first and pointed to Mom where I was and we were two trains
colliding. She was crying, her hands running over me, feeling that I was
really standing in front of her.

"My God! You've grown up so much!" Mom cried. "How I've missed you." She
hugged me again.

Dad shoved Mom aside. "Enough woman. Let me at `em." He grabbed me in a
bearlike hug. "It is good to see you, son." The big softy was wiping the
corner of his eyes. "Your Mom's right, you have grown. Nearly as tall as
me!"

"Nearly, but not quite." I grinned back. Then looked back at Vincent. "Dad,
you remember Vincent."

Dad nodded extending his hand to Vincent. "Of course. The man with good
taste in roommates and friends."

"It's good to see you again, Sir." Vincent bowed slightly.

"Honey, this is the boy I told you about. This is Crown Prince Vincent
Henrik of Denmark." Dad introduced to my mother.

Mom knew it but seeing him in front of her. She curtsied. "You're
Highness." She held her hand out. Vincent didn't miss a beat.

"It is a pleasure to make the acquaintance of the parents of my dearest
friend." Vincent kissed her hand.

"I just call him Vince," I said with a smile. "And if I really want a rise
from him, Vinnie."

He glared at me. "I can still change my mind, you know?" He said often
enough about taking the ring back.

I waved him off. "Yeah, yeah, yeah."

"You must call me Kam. That's short for Kamani." My mother insisted.

Vincent shook his head. "Only when he can call my mother and father Fred
and Maggie."

I laughed. "Not as long as I want to keep my head on my shoulders. Your
Mother would kill me."

Vincent nodded and chuckled. "Yes, she would."

My mother shook her head with a smile. "My son, meeting kings and queens."

I grinned. "As will you. Now, you're probably tired, so let's head to where
you're staying." I motioned for them to proceed.

My mother was a little startled by the carriage and uniformed guards, as
was my father, but they said nothing as they got in. I assured them their
luggage would be there when we got to where I arranged them to stay.

"So, how is school?" Dad asked.

I shrugged. "Interesting," I commented. "We had a little trouble a while
back. We sort of...had to move."

"Oh?" Mom asked. "You have a generous allowance. That should not have been
a problem for you. What happened?"

I explained about Frank Dupont. My father looked startled. Mom was just
appalled.

Then as we made a turn. "That's why I'm living here." I began as we turned
to go down a wide path to Windsor Castle. I will say this, it a sight to
behold. The walls and towers spread before us, still some ways away, but it
just loomed!

Even my father stared in disbelief. "You're living in this castle."

I nodded. "It was live here or Vincent had to go home to Copenhagen."

Mother just stared with wide eyes. "You're living at the palace?"

"One of them. Queen Victoria lives at the Osborne House. She has another
residence closer for when she sees someone on official business. No one
really lives at Buckingham Palace anymore. It's mostly for parties and
banquets. I've been several times. This will be where you're staying for
the remainder of your visit." I explained. "Friday, you will dine with
Queen Victoria."

Mother looked at Father in a panic. "I have nothing to wear! Not to dine
with the Queen of England!"

Dad shrugged not worried at all. "I'm sure there are a few dress shops in
London, Kam."

I put my hand on my Mother's arm. "Don't worry. A friend is taking you
shopping. She will guide you to the right shops." Then I smiled at
Dad. "You did bring what I asked you to, didn't you?"

Dad nodded. "I did, but I don't understand. I won't be wearing those things
to dinner, will I?"

I chuckled. "Just to amuse the Queen."

When we pulled into the palace, Bert and two women were waiting for us to
step down.

"Mom, Dad. This is Bert Davenport. The head guy here at Windsor." I
introduced.

"And these two are Gertrude and Bonnie." Bert continued. "They are your
chambermaids for your stay." He introduced as the two young women curtsied.

Mom, not used to such polished and pampering, just looked in awe as we went
to their apartments. We saw them at dinner and it was the next day Beverly
came.

"Mrs. Richards, it is a pleasure to meet the one that molded such a fine
young man." Beverly greeted shaking Mom's hand.

"This is Lady Beverly Haversham, Mother. Her husband is Lord Percival
Haversham of the House of Lords."

Mom heard that and curtsied immediately. "My Lady."

Beverly smiled. "You should be very proud of your son, Mrs. Richards. He is
quite a remarkable man. His words and actions, especially about women are a
testament of the virtues you instilled on him. You're husband as well as
yourself are to be congratulated."

Mom smiled wider. "He did that on his own. I will admit to honing that
option. He has been primarily self-taught."

Beverly nodded. "I thought we could go, get some lunch and take in a shop
or two I go to." That Friday, I went to my mother and father's
apartment. Knocking Dad opened the door with his boots, spurs, chaps and
frowned.

"I look like I'm about to brand some steer." He groused. Then he looked at
me. "So do you."

I chuckled. "We are a novelty in England. So, chin up." I looked at
Mom. "Wow, Mom, you look great!" And she did. Beverly had helped her pick
out a dress of a light yellow that complimented the slight darkness of her
skin. Her hair done up and her jewelry was perfect.

Mom curtsied. "Thank you, Honey."



We entered the room where we were gathering before dinner. I ushered them
in.

"Mom, Dad," I said. "I present the Queen of England, Ireland and the
Impress of India, Her Royal Majesty Queen Victoria." I directed their
attention to the woman seated. Both of my parents instantly bowed and
curtsied.

"You're Grace." My Mother said humbly.

"You're Majesty," Dad said.

The Queen saw my father and I were dressed as the cowboys we were and
smiled. "I see where David gets his good looks."

Dad smiled at that. "His mother gave half."

"Your son has been a very good friend to my cousin." Queen Victoria
said. "He earned the ring of trust my cousin gave him."

"I appreciate your kindness to him, Your Majesty." My mother nodded.

I grinned. "And of course, you know Beverly Haversham. This is her husband,
Percival. Lord Percival Haversham." I introduced the man that I only met
twice.

"Your son has swept my wife off her feet," Percival said shaking my
father's hand and kissing my mother's hand. "Quite literally."

Beverly smiled. "That first night at the Christmas Ball, your son
introduced himself and I found him to be an elegant dancer."