His Royal Highness, Prince Vincent - 1. A Long Way From Home

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 stage the last part of this trip. My attention was pulled back to my two 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. But I doubt she was really listening anymore.

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. “And I enjoy it.”

I looked at what she was reading. 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. 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 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’s 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. “Your father followed your instructions to the letter, son.”

“Well, 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 said. “She can do whatever she wants to,” I said back. “We’re looking 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. But Mom and Dad had assured him he was to stay. He would be buried here as this was his home. Most 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 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. 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. 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. So I was accepted into Wentworth Academy. And 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. But 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. And 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.

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

I nodded understanding what he was saying. “But 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.

“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. And 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 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.”

And that was how it all started. We were assigned as roommates. And 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. And naturally, we got in a fight. That was a big no-no at Wentworth. And 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.”

“And 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. And 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 and general play. Mom always said there was no difference between boys and men, we all played. But 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 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. It was expected. There would be those who were two-spirited. Man and woman 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 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.” I chuckled.

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

“Sorry.” Vincent chuckled. “But 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. But 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. And 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 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.” 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.”

“And 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. And 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. But 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. And 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. But this upcoming Christmas Party was not in conflict, so he was going and invited me as his plus one. So 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. “And 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.

“But I touch you,” I said.

Vincent grinned. “Yes, but technically you could be imprisoned if you do. I let you. That’s my choice.” Then he chuckled. “And where and when I let you could get you drawn and quartered.”

I shook my head. “And 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.

“And 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. But 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. And 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. And 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. And 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. The 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. But 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. But 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. And 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. “And 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. But 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. And 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. And 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. And 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. But 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. But that next night, Bendt and Nakia led us toward the seedier part of Paris. And 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 others’ company. And 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. “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.”

“So, 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. “Well, 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.

“So, 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 a least a foot long and thick! It hung practically to his knees! And that was relaxed. He made his money when he let men touch it. And 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. But 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. And 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.”