Makarovia! Yes, I Know Where That is! Sophomore Year - 36. Chapter 36

The Wedding

Part Three

We were putting the final touches to what we had put on. Jori had made us these suits that fit well. I chuckled to myself thinking his constant comments about his reputation, he was safe. The suits weren't tuxedos, but nice looking suits. Both were a dark blue, but Peter's was lighter. Jori had explained the due to Peter's fair complexion, he would look better with less of a contrast. Jori was talking about seasons and what season I was...what!? A suit was a suit. I knew doubled breasted and regular suits. That's it. Styles were like colors to me. Is it white or eggshell? Was it purple or grape? I didn't know! More important was, I didn't care.

Peter walked in from the bathroom putting his coat on. I don't just repeat things quoted, but...clothes do make a man. He was gorgeous! I know, I'm bias, but that didn't make that not true. Peter smiled as he saw me staring. He did a turn holding his jacket open. “Do I look alright?”

The obnoxious part of me surfaced again. “No. You don't.” I had to pinch myself to keep from laughing as Peter looked down to see what he'd missed or had done wrong. I walked over pulling his face toward me and kissed him tenderly. “I shouldn't let you out of this room. I'll lose you. You look too good.”

Peter smiled. “I will lose you to General Burke. He couldn't resist you now. I don't care if he's straight or not.”

There was a knock on our door. “Come on, guys,” Drew's voice came. “It's your last night as free men. You've got a whole bunch of people that want to see you. Some came a pretty long distance.”

Peter looked up, but didn't let me go. “Come in. The door's not locked.”

Drew and Wayne came in the room and I have to say, these two happy men looked very different to me than before. They had come for the Proposal, but I really only saw Peter then. They had dressed nicely I'm sure, but now I noticed. Drew was a reporter, but usually filmed and sought out his stories himself. My first impression of him by television and photographs, he was a man that loved the outdoors. His blonde hair was often a disarray on his head and windblown. He had a charm about him giving him a bad boy appeal. Now, his hair combed and well groomed. The suit he wore was a sharp black. Wayne was often the more serious of the two and was also in a black suit. His black hair was also well groomed.

“We didn't want to...” Drew waved at us, “...interrupt anything.” He grinned with a bounce.

Wayne's eyes rolled. I knew Wayne did that often over the years with Drew. “You're leaving out the part about barging in being rude.”

Drew nodded and jutted his head at Wayne, but his smile never faltered. “That, too.”

The comic and straight-man routine wasn't an act. It was really who they were.

We heard footsteps from the corridor as Olek and Helga walked in.

“Well, Peter,” Olek smiled at us. “Are you ready?”

“Don't you all look handsome?” Helga smiled.

She looked amazing! Here it was again. Her dress wasn't pink, coral maybe? It was without straps to hold it up or sleeves. To the floor it went and though she could move easily, it was pretty close fitting, not with all that flowing cloth. Her shoulders were bare so the necklace she wore would show up. They were diamonds, but not big or gaudy. They were designed to look like snowflakes that hung around her neck. The earrings matched her necklace and her bracelet. Her thick brown hair was put up on her left side and cascaded down her right side. There was a jewel clip holding it up. Even in the dark lights of the evening they glittered.

“Whoa!” It just slipped out of my mouth as I stepped back a pace. She could have been a model as well as Mom!

“I take that as a good whoa?” Helga asked.

Drew was nodding and answered for me. “Yeah, that was a very good whoa.”

Olek looked like he did the first time I met him. He had the black tuxedo on, the white shirt, bow-tie and cummerbund. The red sash was under the coat that went from his right shoulder to his left waist. The medallion that told people he was king of Makarovia with the coat of arms with the two dragons holding the shield with the lion on it. The words in Latin “Honor Virutis Preamium” Honor is the Reward for Virtue, circling the medallion, hung on gold chain putting the medallion right over the sash on his chest. He was handsome. He looked...well, like a king! “We,” Olek pointed at Peter and me, then to himself, “are going to be announced to everyone.”

“Where's Mom?” Peter asked.

“She's with Mario, but will meet us to be announced.” Peter said. “You two,” he pointed at Peter and me, “are why everyone is here this weekend.” He looked at Helga and almost pouted. “I still think you should be announced, too.”

Helga's smile was instant. “I know, Sweetie, but announced as what? Your girlfriend? When I have an official title from Makarovia I will.” She grinned. “I am going to be your wife. I'm not yet. I don't want to be the Royal Mistress or even Consort.” She took his arm. “That old king, wife, mistress and consort thing makes me feel like a slut.” She saw Olek's eyes grow. “You can give me an honorary one, but I'll still know it's not real and so will everyone else.”

Olek smiled weakly, but nodded. “Okay. We need to come up with something to make it official.” He told her.

Wayne stuck an arm out and so did Drew. “We'll escort you downstairs, My Lady.” Wayne smiled to her.

“It will be our privilege.” Drew added. He glanced back at us. “See you downstairs.”

We walked to where would descend the ornate stairs to the Gallery. Other Royal Families had balconies to wave at people or on raised perches. This sort of thing was new to Makarovia. What we had seen before was nothing compared to what was there now. The reason for the Gallery was to hold the citizens of Makarovia to be addressed by their king or queen. The weather again was the reason for the Gallery. If the citizens needed to know something and there was the snow they could be all addressed here and protected from the weather. I learned that in the past, such gatherings happened as word was sent out a gathering was needed. A written message would work as long as the recipient could read. They would come, the ones farther out early. They'd stay in those rooms we had guests now to stay in.

In the past centuries they gathered Makarovian Mayors, nobility and any others that could make it to tell of an approaching threat. That was usually war. The citizens could go back and prepare their village by hiding treasures and even people. I learned that several powers came looking for young men. Not for sex necessarily, but as soldiers. They were used as canon fodder. Disposable people to save the real armies' losses. They would take boys sometimes as young as ten! Only if these people could find them. When the snow and ice let these horrible men get to villages, they would see no young men. The villages would consist of women, small children and a few men too old to use.

The Gallery was crowded now! I did wonder if the stone floor and supports could hold the weight. It seemed fine. Many well dressed people stood looking up as a man I saw occasionally at the Palace walk up a few steps and turned. There were quite a few Marines there now at the bottom of the stairs. All in formal dress uniforms, but still armed. Ten on each side closing ranks as the man had gone up.

There were the sounds of conversations as the man began. “Ladies and gentlemen,” his voice came loud. I hadn't seen a mike, but he must have had one for the full, clear volume. “Makarovia welcomes you as we celebrate the marriage of His Royal Highness Prince Pedro.” He spoke in English. It was accented, but he was understood. Most everyone down there were people from countries that spoke primarily English.

Mom came over quickly from down the corridor. “Sorry, I'm late.” She wore a gown that was white, but had this sheer, silky overlay of material that had delicate gold designs on it. She was the only one of us wearing a crown, her tiara. This time her hair was up on her head. A ring of pearls went around her neck and there were one on each earlobe.

“You're Queen,” Olek shrugged. “You were delayed. You can't be late.”

She smiled at that as her eyes came to us. She brought Peter and me in for a hug and commented our suits.

All this extravagance had me wondering about the people of Makarovia. They couldn't afford this sort of thing. Peter and I discussed this and Queen Alla had said before we were interviewed for television. It was a demonstration. To show the world's countries what Makarovia was and capable of. This country would look proud. I had seen a show where a wealthy man was facing financial problems and nearly broke. He threw a lavish party. He showed his business partners, friends (and enemies) that he was on top. It showed confidence. The best food and wine, his wife had on an expensive gown. He was still on top. “Million dollar spit in the ocean” was explained. All cards on the the table. Investors were assured he was solid and would recover.

Really, Peter's and my approaching marriage was being used. Yes, things were tough for us now. Not financially, but as a country. Things had been done to show Makarovia's strength and resolve. The finely dressed officers down in the Gallery told that. The United States, Great Britain, Germany, France and others were telling everyone they believed in and would support us. Yes, we had something they wanted and needed. They would make sure we would be protected. No more cowering from the world. Makarovia was taking a major position in the world. Now and tomorrow.

I looked at the many faces. There were Makarovians in the crowd and dressed just as well as the rest. Many had sacrificed to be here. They weren't as poor and simple as they had been. I didn't know about the employment situation now, but there were jobs for everyone in Makarovia. They had more jobs than people when I first came here. Would that change? Sure. Two people wants a single job. One would get it, the other wouldn't. Makarovians were resourceful. The one that didn't get the job would get another.

Makarovia wasn't Utopia. No one's perfect, but we would do what we needed to try to be.

“Presenting, His Most Royal Majesty, King Olek Ivanov, the Second of Makarovia.” The man waved back up the stairs toward us. There was the musical procession sounding, but there was no orchestra. It was recorded. An orchestra would be hard to fit down there now. There were the clicks and flash of lights from cameras. Olek came down smiling and nodding to the people. Waving wasn't done here. I needed a list of rules to keep up with the dos and do nots.

“Presenting, Her Most Royal Majesty Queen Alla Ivanov of Makarovia.”

Mom winked at Peter and me and did the slow, graceful descent of a queen. Again, with the nod, the flashing and clicks. She stood beside Olek.

“Presenting, His Royal Highness Prince Pedro Ivanov of Makarovia.”

Peter pulled me to him, kissed me and made his descent with the nod, clicks and flashes. He stopped beside his mother.

“Presenting, from Charleston, South Carolina in the United States, His Lordship, Eric Richards, Earl of Stryia of Makarovia.”

I stepped forward, mimicking the three with a nod. It felt odd for me doing it. Now there were a lot of clicks and flashes. I knew it wasn't because I was more popular. I was new. That's why all of the sudden interest. Peter and I were both new. It's never been done before. Not like this.

The man walked up and slipped something off his coat I hadn't seen. He bowed to Olek and offered assistance and put the little thing on Olek's coat. There was the mike.

Olek stepped forward a bit. “You are here to be a witness to an event that is unknown to many, including some of you.” He waved at the crowd. He turned to us. “My brother met a wonderful, intelligent and kind person who he invited to become a part of his life. He fell in love.” Olek looked again to the crowd. “They fell in love. Tomorrow, they are being married. I know very well this sort of marriage is wrong to some people. But not to us. I would no more tell you, you have to allow this in your area of the world. I wouldn't dare. Don't you dare tell us it shouldn't be in ours.” He smiled. “You no doubt know why that is. Our new web-page gives detailed accounts as to the why. Needless lives and talents were lost during that horrible war, but that was just one example of why Makarovia is what it is today. It is the most recent example of the horrors still fresh in our minds and hearts. We will agree to disagree.” He smiled at me. “Personally, I welcome Eric Richards. He has already proven himself to be a great asset to Makarovia. I also welcome him to my family.” He turned again to crowd. “We're celebrating his joining us tonight and you will witness this tomorrow.” He motioned to us. Peter reached and took my hand and we walked down to the floor. Makarovian guards lined up on both sides of all four of us and we went to the stairs that would take us to the ballroom.

The ballroom was transformed. There were tables placed strategically around the room with white tablecloths and places set with cutlery wrapped in red cloth napkins. The security was needed, but not so tight. People were free to approach, under the watchful eyes of that security. Only one large table had restricted seating. The table was when the raised platform would be tomorrow when Peter and I would complete this chapter in our lives.

Mario approached...with my grandmother!? I hate to say again, but she was stunning! Yes, of course I am bias, but...she was! She was in her mid-seventies! My thoughts were about that commercial I'd seen that advertised make-up for women. There was a woman says, “They say there comes an age where women don't care how they look. I wonder what age that is.” They then show a beautiful woman putting the make-up on. Below her was her age of eighty!! My grandmother could give that woman a run for her money. Grandmother exercised often dancing her ballet. She was slender and still had definition to her body. She still had a figure. Her white hair was up in a rolled up twist at the back of her head. Not one of those little round nob-like buns women often have to get it out of the way. The dress she had on was black...or was it? As she walked tiny, refracted lights of blue sparkled. Stars in a night's sky. As she got closer, I could make out tiny sequins on the dress. Full to the floor and a wide neck that seemed to hanger the tips of her shoulders and down her arms. Around her neck was a white metal necklace with a pendant the size of a quarter of dark blue gemstone. A sapphire. There were dime sized ones on her ears and on the ring finger of her right hand and a bracelet on the right arm. Classy. Clothes made the man and the women.

“My god, grandma,” I said in a choking voice. “You look just...” I couldn't think of a word to describe it.

“Svelte,” Peter said. “It's an English word, but now I understand what it means.” He looked at me with a grin. “I know a word in English you don't?”

“I know the word,” I muttered narrowing my eyes. “I was too shocked to think of it. That's all.”

Grandmother chuckled. “Thank you, my dears.” She kissed us both on the cheek. “This is a once in a lifetime, special occasion.”

“This is what you got done in Boston?” I asked about her saying she wanting to get somethings when we went to London for The Graham Norton's Show.

Grandmother gave us a hesitant nod. “Yes, and the one I will wear tomorrow.” She ran a hand over my face. “I am so happy for you. You're Father, Mother and Grandfather are so proud of you. I know it.”

“Thanks.” I said. Looking at Mario, I shook my head. “Suave and svelte together? That's very dangerous.”

Mario nodded. “I agree,” he smiled at grandmother. “About the svelte part, you could easily enchant me, Signora.” He took her hand an kissed the the back of the hand as he bowed. “Stai incantevole.” He said and walked off to find Mom.

Grandmother almost giggled. “He is suave.”

“What did he say?” I asked grandmother and Peter.

“That Grandma was enchanting.” Peter smiled at grandmother. “And I agree.”

There were the reporters that were still itching for that exclusive interview. Olek had told them two reporters from a network would be allowed at the pre-wedding dinner party. I saw the woman Benny had called Rose. Benny was Central Broadcasting (CBS), Rose was National Broadcasting (NBC). Peter was right. They were with rival networks. I even spotted Louis Garner, the Anchorman at the BBC that had told Drew his pursuits shouldn't be all the fay, fag and fairy shit. It bothered Drew. A year ago, Drew got to smear Louis' words in Louis' face. I saw Drew enjoy that again as he passed Louis saying “hello” as he and Wayne passed by with Helga on their arms. I also saw the smoldering look Louis gave Drew behind Drew's back. Drew said reporters were bitchy little girls. Now I saw that was true first hand.

“Are you ever letting Louis Garner off the hook?” I asked Drew.

He looked like he had no idea what I was talking about. “Let him off hook for what?”

Again, Wayne rolled his eyes shaking his head slightly.

Sitting at the table for us, we waited for the wait-staff to come. I knew things from Makarovia were being included. When they came out I smiled at what I saw. All of the men and women wore Makarovian white shirts or blouses with the elaborate embroidery stitched on lapels, collars and cuffs of the sleeves. No two were alike. The different colors and designs told different things. Love, family, luck or good fortune, there were floral designs...each shirt was a conversation on its own having a conversation to others. A story was told. Red or black pants. The occasional red sash tied around the waist over the shirt. No two waiters was the same, yet the designs and placement of them spoke of similarity. They were Makarovians. On the wall, over where we would take our vows, were flags. The largest one was Makarovia's. To the left, a slightly smaller was the American flag. To the right, the same size as the American flag, was the flag of Great Britain. Slightly smaller than those flags were Germany's and one for France. Those were the major contributors. They were getting portions of the Uranium for their own use. India, China, Japan, the various countries in Africa wanted to buy some of it. I didn't know about the Middle East. I knew the one where their President said they had no homosexuals in his country didn't come. Thinking about what he said just made me laugh. Laugh at the sad ignorance of the man. If there were no homosexuals, why would there be laws on the books and death penalties for people that are there and do it?

Peter looked around and looked around. There were two places not filled. I knew who was missing.

“I'm sure they're fine,” I said quietly to Peter.

Peter nodded. “I told Boris, he and Yuri were sitting at this table.”

“Whatever is holding them up must be important.” I said to comfort Peter and myself.

It was only a few minutes more for Boris and Yuri to show up. Both were dressed formally, but we didn't have to ask too much about why they were late. Yuri had been in a fight as there were some bruises and cuts on his face. Everyone was murmuring to each other because everyone noticed. Boris was speaking confidently to Yuri who nodded. Olek, Peter and I were beginning to stand as they got closer.

Yuri nodded to us, smiling contritely. “Yes, I'll tell you all about it.” He sat in one of the chairs for them.

Olek nodded, “Okay, but are you hurt badly? Should we take you to the hospital?”

Yuri shook his head. “No, no, I'm fine. It looks worse than it is.”

I was concerned he was covering up that he was badly hurt. “If you say so.”

Yuri sighed. “As you were being presented to the crowd,” he began, “I caught four people going through your rooms.” He told us. “They were dressed as United State's Military.” He waved at the next question he knew we'd ask. “No, they weren't military. I could tell. They were not groomed like the military regulations say they are to be.” He chuckled with a shaking appreciative nod. “General Burke would never allow that.”

I looked around quickly. “Yes, I haven't seen either David or Edmond.”

“They're here, but dealing with those four.” Yuri stated nodding. “The men that did this are going to be questioned.” He even growled. “After this.”

“Do you think they are part of the Consortium?” Olek asked.

“I don't know.” Yuri said. “We're trying to find out. We have them contained below. In a holding cell.”

Peter nodded. “The surviving car bombers were held there. We know.”

“They have no identification on themselves.” he shrugged. “We're running their faces we took pictures of with a face recognition program. Generals Burke and Hammond are having the rooms searched for any device to spy or for explosives. They could be Consortium, or terrorists like the ones last year or reporters.” He listed the possibilities. “I'm concerned with the military part. They used that to get around the military who were guarding access to upstairs. The military that allowed them up were Royal Marines. The men I caught wore Air Force of the United States.”

“It could be any of those things.” Olek nodded. “The timing is the thing.”

“Right.” Yuri nodded. “Waiting until everybody was distracted, they were trying to locate something or drop off something.” He looked at all of us at the table. “No one should go back to their room until it has been cleared. Understand?”