Victor

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Victor had extremely mixed feelings as he gazed upon his lovely mate on their wedding day. On the one hand, he wanted the solemn ceremony in which they pledged their eternal devotion to go on forever. On the other hand, he wished it was already over so he could strip Debbie bare and ravish her.

Her wedding gown hugged her slim hips and emphasized her breasts, which were the perfect size to hold in his hands. Her eyes sparkled with happiness, her hair curled in a way that made him long to run his fingers through it, and her lips were so plump and kissable. Every time he looked at her, his perfectly tailored pants got more and more uncomfortably tight.

Someone cleared their throat behind him. He turned, blinking as if he’d just woken up from sleep. It was Aunt Agatha.

Leaning over, she muttered, “For the sake of the realm, don’t get her pregnant.”

Victor felt himself flush hot with an unpleasant mixture of anger and embarrassment. He hissed, “I do not wish to discuss this now. Or ever!”

He turned away, and almost collided with a plump red-headed woman he didn’t recognize.

“Excuse me,” he said as he maneuvered around her.

“Excuse me,” she said. “Prince Victor, if you have a moment...”

“Please ask me later.” Victor hurried away before she could delay him any further. He regretted his rudeness, but he did not want to continue that conversation with Aunt Agatha, and it would happen whether he liked it or not unless he left her vicinity.

He barely walked three steps before he was once again halted.

“Congratulations on your marriage,” said a beaming old lady he didn’t recognize. “May you have many fat, healthy babies!”

“Thank you so much,” Victor replied politely, looking for a way out.

“Fat! Healthy! Like you once were!” She pinched his cheek. “Oh, I remember those delicious chubby cheeks you had. Delicious!”

Victor fled. But no sooner had he escaped the old lady than he was pounced on by another wedding guest. And another. And another.

Just when he thought he’d gotten away, a courtier waylaid him. “Prince Victor, I’m so sorry to bother you on your wedding day, but the wedding caterer is demanding immediate payment.”

Impatiently, Victor said, “Then pay him.”

“Yesterday the treasurer resigned without notice, and no one else is authorized to access the treasury.”

It was moments like these that made Victor wish he had run off to America with Debbie. He couldn’t even get away from court problems on his own wedding day! “Why don’t you bring it to the attention of the Queen Regent?”

“I did,” the courtier said with a distinct tone of annoyance. “Yesterday. She said she would appoint an interim treasurer by the close of day. But she has done nothing.”

Aunt Agatha had undoubtedly intended to select a replacement, but had been distracted by Princess Eugenia’s disappearance. But this man didn’t know about that—none of the courtiers did.

“Do you have paper?” Victor asked.

The courtier produced a scroll, a pen, and soft wax from one of his voluminous pockets. Victor scribbled a proclamation appointing the treasurer’s assistant as interim treasurer for a period of one month, signed it, and stamped the wax with his seal ring. “Here you go. Please have the new treasurer pay the caterer immediately.”

The courtier dispatched, Victor once again tried to make his way to his bride. But she was no longer there. He glanced around. Debbie was nowhere to be seen.

Help Debbie!

His dragon’s sudden hiss made Victor jump.

What do you mean? Victor asked inwardly. Where is she?

That way, his dragon hissed.

Victor had no idea how his dragon knew Debbie needed him or where she was or what was wrong. But if his dragon thought his mate was in trouble, then Victor would run to her rescue. He bolted in the direction his dragon had indicated, not caring how strange that might look to onlookers.

His dragon led him away from the crowd of wedding guests, and to a gazebo in a quiet part of the garden.

She is there, hissed his dragon. Hurry! She is frightened.

Victor drew his dress sword from its sheath as he rushed inside; it was ceremonial, but sharp. And he knew how to use it.

A man and a woman stood with their backs to Victor. They seemed to be menacing Debbie, who did indeed look frightened.

Protective rage burned through Victor at the sight. He couldn’t believe that anyone would have the nerve to threaten his mate—and on their wedding day, too!

“Unhand my bride!” Victor shouted.

The man and woman turned around, both looking startled. One was the curvy redhead who had accosted him earlier. The other was a tall, handsome man with the characteristic amber eyes of a golden dragon. The man stepped protectively in front of the woman, laying his hand on the hilt of his own dress sword.

“How dare you frighten my bride!” said Victor. “Debbie, darling, what were these miscreants trying to do to you? Shall I summon the guards?”

“No!” Debbie burst out. He was concerned to see that she didn’t look relieved at his entrance; instead, she seemed even more worried. “Victor, we need to talk to these people.”

“Why? Who are they?”

“I’m Journey Jacobson,” said the woman. “I was trying to get you to come here to talk earlier.”

“I am Lucas,” said the man. “I once was Prince Lucas of Brandusa.”

So that was the famous Lucas!

“You’re Lucas?” said Debbie, sounding even more confused.

Lucas and Journey looked at each other. Then Lucas said to Victor, “Are you aware that the woman you are about to marry is not Princess Eugenia?”

Victor could think of no better response than to bluff. “Of course she is! How dare you suggest that my mate is a liar! Get out and leave our wedding, now. And if I ever hear that you’re spreading false rumors about my beloved mate, you will face the wrath of the dragon!”

Lucas didn’t move. “I gave this imposter a false name, and she accepted it without a murmur. The real Eugenia would not fail to recognize me. But even had my appearance changed so much that she no longer knew me, the real Eugenia would have known my name could not possibly be correct.”

“Why?” Debbie demanded.

“Agne is a woman’s name,” Lucas replied. “Anyone from Doru would know that. It would be as if I had introduced myself as Katherine.”

“I didn’t catch your name,” Debbie put in. “There was a lot of crowd noise.”

Victor raised his sword, furious. “How dare you set traps for my mate! Get out, and never come back!”

Undisturbed, Lucas turned to Debbie. “I’ll believe that you’re Eugenia if you can tell me two male names that are common in Doru.”

The dead silence that fell was broken by something completely unexpected—Journey’s sudden laugh. “Lucas, I just realized something. Victor called her ‘my mate.’ Twice. Whether he knows who she is or not, he doesn’t need to be rescued from marrying the wrong woman.”

“Oh!” Lucas suddenly looked much less menacing. Turning to Debbie, he said, “My mistake. I assumed you were trying to trick Victor.”

Victor and Debbie exchanged glances. Debbie gave Victor a wry smile and a nod. “Put your sword away. I think they meant well.”

Victor sheathed his sword and indicated the chairs scattered around the gazebo. “Please be seated. If you will both swear yourselves to secrecy, Debbie and I will explain. It is a matter which involves the stability of two countries.”

“I swear,” said Lucas, and Journey echoed him.

Victor and Debbie quickly explained the impersonation and its reasons.

Journey gave them both a warm smile. “I get it. Lucas had so much trouble marrying me, he ended up having to give up the throne to do it.”

Lucas laid his hand over Journey’s. “There were other reasons as well. I am much happier in America.”

Better you than me, Victor thought.

Despite the difficulties and annoyances of court life, he loved Rodica. And his mate’s descriptions of day-old coffee in styrofoam cups had done nothing to make him want to move to her country.

Debbie sighed. “I’m going to be in trouble if everyone who’s ever met Princess Eugenia realizes I’m not her.”

Lucas shook his head. “They will not. There are many guests here today who have also met Eugenia. It was not I who discovered you, but Journey. I only tested you after she had already come to me with her suspicions.”

Debbie turned to the red-headed woman. “How did you figure it out?”

“People don’t shake hands in this part of the world,” Journey said. “Men bow and women curtsey. But I’m American, and I forgot and held out my hand to you. If you were really from Doru, you’d have ignored it and curtseyed, or given me a weird look until I dropped it. Or if you’d seen a lot of American movies, you might have taken it, but you’d have given me a dead-fish shake because you don’t actually know how to shake hands.”

“Oh, no,” Debbie groaned.

Journey laughed again. “Yep. You’ve got a nice strong handshake. Bet you get lots of compliments on it back home.”

Debbie gave a sheepish nod. Turning to Victor, she said, “And then I dug the hole even deeper. Journey asked me if I’d been to America, and I panicked and said no.”

Lucas took up the story. “Journey had assumed you had learned to shake hands in America. She was merely making conversation. But when you looked alarmed and denied it, she found that very suspicious. She took me aside and asked me what I thought. I had not yet had a chance to greet you, so I too offered my hand.” He smiled. “I have spent years in America, but you still shake hands more naturally than I do.”

Debbie buried her face in her hands and groaned again. Victor gave her a comforting pat on the back.

“And also, your hand was not hot,” Lucas went on. “I thought, ‘perhaps Eugenia has no flame. Or perhaps this woman is not Eugenia.’ So I told you that I had a cousin who wished to begin investing in the stock market, and I wondered if you could recommend a good stock for beginners. You said you would give it careful thought, as a cousin of mine deserved no less, and give me a recommendation tomorrow.”

“That was quick-witted,” said Victor.

“It was digging my hole all the way down to China,” Debbie said glumly. “The real Princess Eugenia would have known instantly, right?”

“No doubt,” replied Lucas. “But it was not your reply itself which convinced me that you were not Eugenia. It was the tone of it. The real Eugenia would have radiated delight at the idea of giving careful thought to selecting a good stock for beginners.”

Earnestly, Lucas went on, “I do undercover work myself, and often need to pretend to knowledge which I do not have. You do not need to become an expert in economics and finance to impersonate Eugenia. Putting it off until you can look up the correct answer should suffice. What you do need to know is that Eugenia loves those subjects. Practice an expression of bliss whenever someone mentions them, and you will fool even someone who knows her far better than I.”

“Thanks, Lucas,” Debbie said. “I really appreciate you giving me tips instead of turning me in.”

Lucas smiled at her. “My pleasure. Journey and I know the difficulties of a relationship between a prince and an American.”

Victor too gave Lucas and Journey his heartfelt thanks. “I look forward to inviting you both to the christening of our firstborn.”

“I look forward to it as well,” said Lucas. Journey echoed his sentiments. Then they went out hand-in-hand, leaving Victor and Debbie alone in the gazebo.

“That was scary,” Debbie said. “But at least it ended well. And now I know: no more handshakes, and Agne is a girl’s name. Hey... how did you know to come here? Journey showed up to guard me while Lucas went and fetched you, but he hadn’t left yet when you showed up.”

“I knew you were frightened,” Victor said. “It is something mates can do.”

Her eyes widened. “You mean, if you’re ever in danger, I’ll get some sort of mental bat-signal?”

After a moment spent figuring out the general meaning of ‘bat-signal,’ he said, “I doubt it. My dragon told me, and you have no dragon.” When he saw her disappointment, he patted her hand. “Do not worry. You will never need to rescue me. It is I who will always be able to rescue you. Though I hope you will never again need rescuing!”

“Hopefully not.” She gave him a slow, wicked smile. “Hey... you looked really hot brandishing that sword. Do it again?”