Makarovia! Yes, I Know Where That is! Sophomore Year - 43. Chapter 43

The Honeymoon

We walked back to the main deck. Boris and Yuri were there, but Yuri was speaking with the men with us for security. He doesn't yell. He never has that I knew of. His quiet tones reminded me of when we left Boston. That almost parental talking to warning them what he expected of them.

Boris came over to us. “We'll be leaving you tomorrow.”

I smiled. “But you're staying here the night.”

Boris nodded. “We can, but this is for you.”

Peter nodded. “You can spare one night. There's room on the Duchess.”

Boris nodded. “We can do that.”

Yuri came over. “We've moved all our belongings to the Duchess. You're being checked out of the hotel now.”

“Where do we go first?” Peter asked.

Yuri shrugged. “Where ever you choose. We can go to St. Mark's Square and Basilica. We can take a gondola...to say we've done it if for no other reason.” He thought, “There some great restaurants. We can have dinner in one. That requires a reservation, so tell me where and the Concierge will make it happen.” He reached for Peter. “Let me see your phone. I'll add the number so you can do that later, too.”

“Yuri,” I began quietly. “Those nondisclosure documents won't work with the people touring around Venice or in Greece. Peter and I could try to disguise ourselves, but someone will recognize us. They will tell others. It can't be held a secret.”

Yuri stopped what he was doing and nodded. “That's right.” Then he returned to his task programming the number on Peter's phone. “People will know you're here. It will be rumors at first.” He sighed. “Even if they have proof such as a photograph. It will take time for that to circulate. The security guards will stop any harassment from tourists or media. Even if they see you board the Duchess, the crew won't confirm who you are.”

I nodded. “I see.”

It was decided that the Duchess would move. We would go to the heavily populated island in the borough of San Marco. Venice made up of five boroughs. We were moving to the Southern most one. From there we could easily go anywhere.

I had seen St. Mark's Square on television. It wasn't flooded now. It was low tide. I remember seeing a show whose character run through the abundance of pigeons and other birds sending them flying away. Neither Peter or I thought about not showing affection with each other. We did as we often did holding hands. Millions had seen us marry, holding hands should shock no one.

Our security team was with us, surrounding Peter and me, but dressed as tourists. They wore their guns in holsters near their chests and not really noticed. They were under loose shirts that covered t-shirts. They wore jeans. It was in the upper seventies, but the water and breeze kept it cool. It would be comfortable for them. They didn't have on uniforms, but the configuration of six men, Boris and Yuri told everyone we were being guarded. We got curious looks and they spoke with whomever they were with. You didn't need to hear it as they confirmed what they saw with the other. Was that who they suspected? Had to be, look at the men guarding them. Typical stuff.

Venice played a major part of the Renaissance. There were galleries galore here. The very buildings themselves were art! We only had that day to see anything. We did go to Doge's Palace. They were exhibiting pieces of Gothic works. Paintings at this time had gained perspective and looked human. They looked like real people. Realism. Even the ceilings were art. The walls should have painting on thems, but here, the ceiling had them, too. Framed in gold molding were scenes of men, women and landscapes. It was beautiful. Yes, it did have that “old world” elegance and grace from the past thousand years.

We had lunch at Quadri. It was right there at the San Marco's Square. The hostess looked up as we came in and her eyes widened seeing Peter and me.

Boris walked up to her. "Non abbiamo fatto una prenotazione. Spero che tu possa inserirci.”

The woman reached for the menus she knew were there. “Certamente. Se vieni con me.”

“What did he say?” I whispered to Peter.

Peter shook his head. “I don't know.”

Boris chuckled. “I said, we didn't have a reservation. Could they squeeze us in?”

“Oh,” Peter said. He nodded. “If you say so.”

I pulled Peter closer. “What will we do in Greece? Do any of the security speak Greek?”

Yuri shook his head. “No, but enough in Greece speak English. You'll be fine.”

Almost all the restaurants views of the water. We were seated at a table by a large window. The waiter had been told we were here and came quickly. It was very nice. I had Astice Tostato, seared lobster, mushrooms, crab and sea urchin. Peter had Costata di Manzo, a ribeye with oyster cream. Yuri had Capesante Scottate, sea scallops and Boris had the Calamari Pasta. Squid. The rings and tentacles. It was very good. Two of our security came in with us standing by our table, the other four stood at the door. I knew why and just resolved myself to what had to happen. Yuri had said it, this was their job. I didn't object now.

“The plane is to take you to Sicily.” Peter said. “You don't have a set time.”

Yuri nodded. “We leave when we're ready.” He looked at us firmly. “Do not come with us to the airport to see us off.”

I waved at the many patrons in the Quadri. “They know we're here. It's not a secret.”

Yuri nodded. “I want to see the Duchess heading off. Boris and I will be there to do that. Please.”

Peter smiled. “Sure. This has been enjoyable. Hanging out with two of our favorite people.”

Boris nodded. “We like you.” He shrugged. “We love you, but we also like you. We're going to have a good day in Venice.”

We wandered the walk ways in Venice. It was mid-afternoon when Peter's phone dinged. Peter looked at the screen and smiled. He showed me the screen. The thumb's up emoji was there.

“We're going to be uncles!” Peter grinned.

I nodded. “Yes,” I nodded. “Helga was right. She is worried about being an unwed mother.”

Peter nodded. “The people of Makarovia won't care.”

“But other people in other countries will.” I stressed. “They need to marry soon. The end of this month.”

“The Proposal and the year...” Peter began.

“Which is tradition, I know.” I patted Peter's arm. “I suggest a legal marriage for now. We can do a more traditional wedding later.”

Peter shrugged. “We'll talk to Helga and Olek.” He smiled at Yuri. “What did talk to the security about?”

Yuri nodded. “I reminded the why they're here. When onboard the Duchess, there will be crew to help. But the crew's first concern will be the Duchess. Their only concern will be keeping you two safe. They can never forget that.” He nodded a little. “They were cautioned not to let you, King Olek, Makarovia or me down.” He shrugged. “These six are the best. I wouldn't trust just anyone.”

Coffee. That was the other item needed. Again, it was right there! Caffè del Doge. It smelled great even outside. It was coffee and the world loved it.

We took our first gondola ride. The gondolier recognized Peter and me, but keep his face steady as we traveled down the Grand Canal. It was nice. The best part was there were no traffic sounds. No horns honking or engines idling. Just the sound of water lapping and many voices in many language as crowds walked, laughing and spoke to each other.

“There's just one thing missing.” I said in English and turned to our gondolier. “Aren't you supposed to sing?”

The gondolier was a man in his early thirties. Clearly Italian. He chuckled. “Oh, no, Signori. You don't really want me to do that.”

“Why not?” I asked. “Not even O Sole Mio?”

The gondolier bowed briefly and laughed. “Only because you are just married and a prince.” He cleared his throat and began. “Che bella cosa na jurnata 'e sole, N'aria serena dopo na tempesta, Pe' ll'aria fresca pare già na festa, Che bella cosa na jurnata 'e sole.” I grinned at him. So, he wasn't Luciano Pavaotti. He could carry a tune. It was good. Yuri insisted the men from security was included.

The gondolier didn't stop when that song was done. Next he sang Ti Amo and Grande Amore!

When the gondola was finished showing us Venice. I grinned at the gondolier.

“Thank you for doing that.” I said. “You sing just fine. I enjoyed it.”

The man nodded. “Qualsiasi cosa per amore, Altezza.” He bowed.

I must have been around some Italians enough, because I knew he said. Anything for love. I shook his hand.

Venice was beautiful, but it was sinking. They had floods often during seasonal change. I saw evidence that it was. Many of the buildings had surrendered the first floors to the flooding. Five stories became four that were habitable. They worked to find ways of keeping this ancient city, but would eventually lose. Some worked on ways to make Venice float. They had a project named Mose where a series of gates were being constructed across three inlets. Mose, after Moses who parted the Red Sea in the Old Testament? I paid attention in Sunday School. There were thousands of workers and there were protesters. Not about saving Venice, but about harming the environment with these huge gates and wanted an alternative. I was told all of Venice had sunk nearly a foot in the past one hundred years.

The Adriatic Sea would not give up. This gate system was costing billions. It would cost millions to maintain. They lost billions in the mid sixties when a flood damaged artworks worth billions.

It was also used as a political platform for many in Italy.

Venice did have a lot of canals. There were thin ones like alleys between buildings in a city. They were alleys. We did see the flooding at the next high tide. San Marco's Square had a foot of water. Yep, it was a problem. I was reminded of the flooding in Charleston. I'm not one upping anyone, but Market Street downtown flooded badly during the rising tides. All of those trendy shops battled water from coming into their stores. That was here, but with all of Venice.

We opted for an outdoor concert. Yep, it sounds snooty, but I like classical music. Thanks, Grandma. We returned to the Duchess and changed. Then we went to the Molocinque. Technically, it wasn't in Venice. The closest community was Marghera to the South of Molocinque. It was just a few miles away. Yuri wasn't thrilled, but told our security to be on their toes.

“We'll be protected, Yuri.” Peter reminded him. “We'll be careful. Otherwise, we should have stayed in Makarovia!”

Yuri's look told us he wished we had.

Tonight, our security looked like security. Dark suits and dark glasses. I found out those glasses helped them see in the dark. Yes! No one could flash lights in their eyes and blinding them even a few seconds. They cut glare and made things sharper!

It was a night club that wanted you to dance. Peter and I did. It wasn't concerned whether their patrons were gay or straight, just people friendly. If you had the lira, you were welcome. Make that Euros now. It noisy and loud. Just what we wanted.

Not everyone was as observant as others. The man who let people in didn't react when we got there.

“We need all ten of us to be allowed in.” Peter said and handed his ID and credit card to the man. It only took him a few seconds, but his eyes grew.

“Solo un momento. per favore.” The man said quickly and rushed inside.

“You understood that, right?” Peter looked at me.

“Please,” I muttered. “That wasn't even difficult. Mario must be rubbing off on me.”

The bouncer came back with another man. The bouncer was your typical tough guy. Like our security, he showed no emotions until he found who we were. This new man was hard to tell. Italian, but Botox or surgery kept him looking in his thirties. He had black hair. Or did he? I looked at his hairline and couldn't tell. I mentally shrugged.

“I am Marco Rizzo.” The man bowed. “The wedding was in English. I assume that's the language to use.”

Peter grinned. “ Vy rozmovlyayete makarvinsʹkoyu.”

“I didn't get that.” The man frowned.

“And there's your answer.” I smiled. “He asked if you speak Makarovian. You don't, so English is preferred.”

“I see.” The man smiled. “It's an honor you chose here to come.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “It will be just moments. They are arranging tables for you.” He looked excited to have us. “We've set you up a semiprivate room.”

“We would like to be near the action.” Peter said and waved at our security. “These men are our protection.”

Mr. Rizzo nodded. “Understood. Normally, we don't allow weapons in, but they won't be drinking?”

“No,” Yuri stated quickly. “They're on duty.”

A young lady came out to speak with Mr. Rizzo. He nodded and waved us toward the door.

“We're ready.” Mr. Rizzo said.

Inside, it was a club. A little different than Jocks and more densely crowded than the Grotto. These people were doing what people did in clubs, they sipped drinks, tried to carry on conversations, but mostly danced. There wasn't just a dance floor, there were four playing different musical themes.

“It's open almost every night from May through September.” I said loud to be heard. “This is a special night.”

“What's special about it?” Peter asked.

“There's an Arts Festival beginning.” I shouted back. “The increase in tourism means more revenue.”

Our table was in a recessed portion of a wall. Naturally, people were curious who was going to be sitting there. In spite of the noise, word spread like a spark in dry grass and people began staring. No one came close. The six emotionless guards put a stop to the very notion. The music now was techno-trance dance music. You know, those great sounds that just made you want to dance. There was no beginning or end. One song just took over the other with a different beat, but still made you want to dance. Not a lot of singing. There were some phrases sung but it seemed to just be part of the music. I know, singing was part of music, too. This voice was not telling a story of any kind. These phrases merged the primitive, rhythmical cadence. You had to move!

“I don't know how to dance to this kind of music.” Peter said.

“You just do it. It's primal.” I grabbed his hand. “Let's go, Twinkle Toes!”

“Stay where we can see you!” Yuri instructed in a shout.

The song playing morphed into another and it was a primitive part of our minds that was tickled. It came from ancient African tribal drums used as we evolved. We just started moving.

It didn't take too long before a young woman spoke while dancing with her partner. “Sei il Principe Pedro e il Principe Eric.”

“Scusa, no Italiano.” Peter said simply and we continued to dance.

I frowned at Peter and turned to her. “No, but do you speak English?”

She nodded. “I can.”

“You saw the wedding?”

“Absolutely.” She nodded. “It was beautiful.”

“This day two,” I explained, “of our honeymoon. Forgive us, but we don't really intend to include anyone else.” I bowed to her and chuckled. “We know who we are.”

“Certainly.” The woman nodded and bowed to me. “I understand, your highness.”

I saw Yuri's eyes remain on us. The other security watched us, too. I knew that even if I couldn't see their eyes.

We got winded and sat down at our table. I smiled at Boris who was sipping some amber colored drink. Yuri was drinking a soda.

I smiled at them. “Neither of you are working now.” I waved at Yuri. “Or not supposed to be.”

Peter nodded. “If you're still working,” he waved at our security. “Why do we have them?”

A waiter came over to serve drinks. I looked around, but didn't see others getting their drinks this way. There was a crowded bar people were ordering and getting drinks there. It was just us. I shrugged ordering my favorite White Russian.

After our drinks were gotten I looked at Yuri. “How are you going to make it with no duties for two weeks?”

Peter sipped his drink and nodded. “We appreciate your dedication, Yuri, but you have a marriage that needs your attention, too.”

I chuckled. “The people from Makarovia are driven. We had to force Olek to take a week off last year.”

Peter nodded. “That island doesn't have a Wifi connection or a computer. It drove Olek insane being cut off from the world.” He looked at Boris. “I get the feeling Yuri will take a day or two to relax.”

“You, too.” I said to Boris. “I know you like to cook. I'm sure the lady that made our meals will let you cook, but you don't have to.”

Yuri snickered. “You're right. It will be hard. I've done this everyday for two years.”

Boris smiled at Yuri. “He's sort of...anxious about you two going off by yourselves.”

“We won't be by ourselves.” I waved at the security. “I understand you personally chose these men.”

Yuri nodded. “I did. I trust their skills, but I don't trust many.”

“We've traveled without you.” Peter said.

“Not very often.” Yuri pointed out. “You've flown to Makarovia alone.” He shrugged. “I feel responsible. Olek trusts me.” He leaned forward. “If these men didn't have my trust, I would insist I come with you.”

“You need time with Boris.” I said kindly. “You're still in love.”

Yuri chuckled. “We are.”

I grabbed Yuri's hand. “Come on, let's dance!”

Peter chuckled looking at Boris. “That leaves you and me. We'll show them how it's done.”

We didn't stay too long and returned to the islands of Venice. We boarded the Duchess and went to our quarters. Boris and Yuri was in one nearby.

Our stateroom had a private terrace. We stood looking at the lights of Venice.

“This is going to be a great honeymoon.” Peter said softly to me. “We'll have a great marriage.”

“We will.” I agreed. “I love you, Peter.”

“I know you do.” Peter said smiling. “I love you, Eric.”

I nodded kissing him. “I know.”