Makarovia? Where the Hell Is That!? Northeastern University

Story: Makarovia! Sure, I Know Where That Is

Chapter 15 Honeymoon: Montenegro / Corfu Greece

Author: Eric McQueen (mcqueen.richarderic@gmail.com)

Adult Readers, Sexual Situations, Sex

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The first stops are Montenegro, a small island and Corfu, Greece. A lot of great meals prepared by Henri, a comical, talented, top French Chef on board the Duchess. Lots of seafood!

Honeymoon: Montenegro / Corfu, Greece

Dinner that night was spectacular. Oyster Fritters with a lemon/horseradish garnish. I was raised in the American South and knew about fritters, but nothing like this. Those were just the appetizer! Then we had Cognac Shrimp with Beurre Blanc Sauce. Whatever, it was delicious. It was French!

When Henri came out to see if we liked it. My obnoxious side surfaced.

"Henri," I began sadly. "You can never cook for us again."

Peter grinned. "I agree."

Henri looked surprised. "You didn't like it!?"

"It was terrible," I said. "The three bowls I had was just awful and those fritters. I hated every one." I waved at the empty plate.

Peter nodded. "Me, too. The six I had...just revolting."

Henri stood up straighter and let an "Oh, ho, ho," he smiled, "you are making blague. A joke." He was French!!

I nodded. "We are." I admitted, "But you may be in trouble. If you keep this up, we might try to steal you from the Countess."

Peter nodded. "It's a good thing there's a workout room on board. I'll probably gain twenty pounds!"

"Boris is a damned good chef," I said, "but there is a saying about too many cooks in the kitchen spoiling the broth." I nodded. "Boris would become jealous..."

"It could get ugly." Peter added.

"You did an exceptional job." I said.

Henri bowed. "Merci."

"You're welcome." Peter smiled.

We did arrive in Montenegro at night. Kotor to be precise. Podgorica was not on the Adriatic Sea. It was on the coast of Lake Scutari, but didn't have access to the open water. Kotor did. It was the closet community to Podgorica with that access. The water access was twisted. You came into Kotor Bay between Rose, Montenegro and Dubrovnik to the Gulf of Kotor and finally around Lepetani and hang a right before hitting Our Lady of the Rocks. Is that better?

When we woke up, we looked out the window to the town of Kotor. Part of my youth was spent in a coastal city. Kotor was no coastal community I'd ever seen. Folly Beach was a town in Charleston on the beach. There were others, but Folly Beach was the one I knew best. These homes weren't wood, but brick and stone and more densely arranged. They had those pretty red roofs and were much closer together. It was old and very pretty. It was picture perfect. On the outside. This portion of the gulf was circled with mountains. No, they weren't like the ones in Makarovia or Asheville.

We showered and dressed and went to see what Henri made. He came out with steaming pan of something.

"Henri," I grinned, "is this a casserole?"

Henri looked stunned. "Monsieur, I am a chef." He said sounding almost offended. "We don't make casseroles."

He almost had me until I saw the gleam in his eyes. "Come on," I waved at the plate. "It's all in one dish you baked in an oven and are serving it from that pan." I shrugged. "If it waddles and quacks, it's a duck! This is a casserole."

"Oui, Monsieur," He confessed. "It is unlike you've ever had. It has langostinos and scallops. It is filling."

I looked at Peter. "I guess Boris will just have to adjust."

Henri smiled and served us both. "Boris also told me you two have good appetites. I made plenty."

After first bite, I shook my head. "We'll sneak you in somehow." I used a fork for the next bite. "C'est deliceux." I saw Henri's eyes light up. I held up a cautionary hand. "I just know a few words and phrases. Don't get all excited."

Henri laughed. "Well, chefs often don't usually make casseroles, but this is my creation. I hope you enjoy it."

We were moored to the dock. Disembarking was simple. Security led the way and came from behind us to the dock. It was just after nine when a man came up with several more people. I knew a news crew when I saw it now. The cameras two them carried was a giveaway, too. I had hoped they would do this. One camera had RTCG on it, the other said Prva TV. I smiled at Peter as we walked. The man I had contacted was in his forties now. He kept his hair very short but I could see the hairline was higher than probably was in his youth. It was late Spring. It was warm out. He was wearing a sport's blazer, shirt, and tie. Peter and I dressed for the weather. Short sleeves and jeans. No t-shirts. Mom would murder us if we did that. Peter and I did what we almost always do. Peter took my hand.

We came up to the leader of this group. I knew he was Zdravko Cimbaljevic. I contacted him because he was one of the only openly gay people in Montenegro and a very outspoken advocate for the rights of the many LGBT people that lived here.

"Welcome, your highness," He said and bowed to both of us. "I am Zdravko Cimbaljevic." He stuck his hand out to us.

"And we're..." I began.

"I certainly know who you are." Zdravko nodded. He spoke English well with only the slightest accent. He turned to a chubby man beside him with white hair in his fifties. "This is the Mayor of Podgorica. Ivan Mugosa."

The mayor smiled at first, but it sort of lost its impact as his eyes traveled to our hands. What could he do? Especially since the two cameras were pointing at us. He did stick his hand out and shook ours. "Welcome to Montenegro."

"Thank you." Peter said tightening his hold of my hand.

"We didn't know you were coming," Mayor Mugosa said.

"It was really only decided yesterday morning." I said casually. "We're going further South, but this was on the way. I was told you were seeking tourism. So, here we are." I looked around the bay as other boats were berthed and the sound of water lapping the shores and boats. "It is lovely here."

"We also looked you up on the computer." Peter said. "Like Makarovia, you had a struggle. You go back to the fourteenth century."

The Mayor nodded. "We do."

"I bet there is plenty to see." I grinned. "I will love to put this as a place to visit on our website." I hate being coy or hedge around a subject. "I'll be honest. Did you see the wedding?" I held Peter's hand up. "Our wedding?"

The mayor's eyes widened. "Not the whole thing."

"I have been told and I have read accounts of Montenegro's two different sides. Especially with people like Peter and me." I held up my right hand to stop him from interrupting. "You took strides to outlaw hate and violence to those like us. Yet, I also heard and read about violence against us from your own people and your authorities." I held up the hand that Peter still had. "Are we going to be arrested?"

The mayor bowed his head a little. "No. You are married."

Peter nodded. "No one here can do that, can they?"

The mayor was getting angrier. I could see it in his eyes and on his face. "They can be together. It's not against the law."

"You aren't alone in this." I assured. "It was worldwide for a long time."

Peter bounced. "Not in Makarovia."

I patted Peter on the arm. "That's right. The United States had huge issues with it. As you probably know, we had it approved state by state before it became legal for everyone nationwide. It's still dangerous to travel some places because of violence. Makarovia was nearly attacked Saturday. That explosion in Turkey?" I looked at Peter who was nodding and confirmed what I said. "It was meant for Makarovia." I motioned between Peter and myself. "To kill us."

Peter nodded. "The year before someone wanted to get a car bomb into the palace. No one's claiming innocence."

"We're taught the Bible tells us it's wrong." The Mayor defended.

I nodded. "It does. It also says a lot of things we do is wrong, but we do it anyway, but what did God say about it? Nothing. He gave us rules to live by. The ten commandments? If our salvation is determined by who we have sex with and when, wouldn't he tell us in those commandments?" I held my finger up. "He warned about killing, stealing and adultery. How many couples can say they were both virgins when they married? Many in the Bible can't claim that either. And incest is in there..."

Peter pointed out. "It was the Jewish people that told us about all those other rules. Everything has rules or laws. Even what we eat."

I nodded. "What's kosher and what's not. Even kosher meats have to come from a particular area of the animal."

"They never have rump roast and seafood!" Peter shook his head. "I love it. We had prawns last night. They have to have scales and fins to be kosher."

I thumbed behind us to the Duchess. "What had an hour or so ago wasn't kosher either."

"We aren't attacking you," Peter said to assure the Mayor. "We're not blaming you. You want to be a part of the world? There are people who won't agree with you for their own reasons. You just should accept that and let it go."

"You're Human." I shrugged. "We don't do well with change."

The Mayor said. "You are asking us to not believe the Bible."

"No, I'm not." I said and tried another tactic. "How old is the Earth?"

"Millions...no, billions of years." He said matter-of-fact. It was common knowledge.

"Now you're not believing the Bible." I smiled. "According to the scriptures it's only a few thousand years old. The Bible has the linage of descendants to Jesus Christ who died two thousand years ago. Just going by the ages of people mentioned, they lived tells us it's not that old."

"Did we evolve? Or were we created? What about Homo Erectus and the other stages of Human Evolution? Which were Adam and Eve?" Peter asked and saw the Mayor was getting annoyed. "Our point is people pick and choose from the Bible what they think is right all the time."

The mayor was getting frustrated, but he was a politician. People were watching or would be watching it when it was broadcast. "I don't think this is the place for this sort of discussion."

I nodded. "Okay, where is the correct place? Or when?"

"You are using the titles you have for political purposes." The Mayor ground out.

I shrugged and held my hands out helplessly. "Of course, we are. That's what they're for."

The mayor was now turning red. "I don't believe it should be allowed."

Peter nodded and said calmly. "We knew that when you approached. We saw it on your face."

Zdravko was hiding a growing smile with his hand and looked away. This was very familiar territory for him.

"You have the right to believe whatever you want." I said simply. "I don't agree with you. I think you're wrong."

Peter nodded. "I do, too."

Zdravko removed his hand when the Mayor looked at him and with a simple gesture said. "You know I'm with them."

The mayor turned and walked away in a slight huff.

Zdravko turned and smiled at us. "He's been a problem for years. He tries to block everything we try to do."

"I know." I said. "We had people in front of our home in Boston protesting."

"Until the mayor, governor and president told them to stop." Peter added.

"Some would love to beat the gay out of us." I said. "Even kill us."

Zdravko nodded. "I got...and still get, death threats."

"But you stay." Peter said.

Zdravko nodded. "It's my home." He said sadly with mixed emotions.

"I understand that." I smiled.

"I go to Canada often." Zdravko smiled again. "They love me there. Is it true that almost half of the people in Makarovia are gay?"

Peter shrugged. "With the influx of people from the United States and Great Britain that maybe off by now."

"It doesn't matter." I said. "We can walk together through the streets and new tunnels with no problem or harassment. It's not even considered wrong by anyone to do so."

Zdravko smiled at that. "Oh, I would love that here."

Peter smiled back. "Maybe you should come to Makarovia." He shrugged. "Just to visit."

Zdravko nodded. "I should." Then he nodded once firmly. "I will."

I reached out and touched his arm. "Do it during the Spring or Summer. It's pretty frozen during the Winter."

Peter looked at me surprised. "Drew and Wayne came during the Winter."

I nodded. "Yes, they did." I looked at Zdravko. "They used a military transport to land in Skoal. Do you know of any military transports coming from anywhere around here?"

"No." Peter shook his head.

I threw my hands out in frustration. "Do we have a railroad?"

"Of course! We have to get freight and goods to us. There are some truckers that deliver, too. I said we prepared? Remember? We buy in bulk."

I waved at Zdravko. "He can't even take a bus!"

Peter reacted as I did. "No one wanted to come to Makarovia! It was no problem."

"Now they will!"

Zdravko was now laughing at our banter. "Gentlemen, I can drive there. I have a car."

Peter nodded. "The tunnel for the train and roads are shutdown in October and doesn't open again until April because of the snow and ice."

"He shouldn't have to drive it." I said. "That's..." I tried to think, "I don't know, but it's a long way!"

"It's just a few hundred kilometers." Zdravko chuckled. "I've driven from Toronto to Vancouver. That was a lot farther."

"Just because you can doesn't mean you should." I corrected.

"They're working on the airport in Skoal." Peter shrugged. "Who knows?"

Zdravko nodded. "We'll work it out." He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. "Do you still want to see it?"

"Absolutely." I answered and then stopped. I pointed at our security. "They have to come, too."

Zdravko looked behind Peter and me. "Sure," he said, "I thought there would be some." He looked at Mikell who had the classic stone like stare they perfected with the dark glasses. "Are they all that big in Makarovia?"

I shook my head. "Not all of them." I kissed Peter quickly. "There are a few."

The drive to Podgorica was pretty. The mountains here were older. I'll explain. The Alps and Himalayan Mountains were newer. A few million years younger than the Appalachian Mountains. They have been worn down with time. Colliding plates, continental drift, and all that. The mountains here were nice. There were Alps, the Albanian Alps to the North and East of Montenegro. Even the name of the country meant Black Mountain. I know, you might not care. The majority of Montenegro were Christian. About seventy percent. Twenty percent are Islamic. It was a mix of ethnicity. Most from the surrounding Balkan countries.

"We've got a long way to go in Montenegro." Zdravko confessed as we rode. "I will give Montenegro this, they are more accepting than Croatia or Serbia. The problem is that sexuality is not even mentioned in Montenegrin Law. It's assumed all rights cover the minorities, too."

"What about gay bashing? I read about some on the Internet." I asked. "Aren't there laws against that?"

Zdravko nodded. "When the victim comes forward and files charges. Most of them are too ashamed to admit they were are attacked for being gay." He sighed as he looked out the window. "There is no venue for gays here. No clubs or bars. The gay population here has been terrified to come out. Most people in Montenegro still think it's a sickness." He tapped his forehead to show where the sickness was. "People are just..." he stopped as he thought, "so binary."

Peter and I were both looking at Zdravko not understanding what he meant.

"You know," Zdravko insisted. "ones and zeros? I'm in finance, I do numbers." He grinned. "By binary, I mean they just see two choices. Left or right. On and off. Black or white. Male and female. Right and wrong. Get it?"

We nodded and I grinned. "Yes."

"This stop may not help." Peter admitted.

"It will!" Zdravko said quickly. "Those in leadership rolls try to block programs that have any gay content." He chuckled. "I know there are thousands of gays, lesbians and bisexuals here. I also know, with the satellite feed from Italy and other sources, people like Ivan Mugosa were fascinated by the wedding and watched it."

"That's a little odd." Peter said. "To watch something you think is disgusting...it's kind of morbid."

"But they watched!" Zdravko said happily. "They watched a king, a leader of millions, and a queen marry two men for love. You." He got excited a little. "Your brother and mother were at that wedding. Queen Alla's and King Olek's words were heard about the fact that they not only approved of the marriage, but thought it was a good thing!" He was shaking his head. "If you just get some here to even consider what they know is wrong might not be that wrong. That's a victory!"

Peter and I nodded.

"That's why all those news stations were there." Peter grinned.

"The truth is," I began, "our marriage was not that big a deal..."

"It was a big deal!" Zdravko suddenly stated firmly.

"Why?" Peter asked. "The world has a few royal families in the world. The last big wedding that captured everyone's attention was Prince William and Kate." He held his hand up. "Harry and Megan was, too. When the king of Spain married or Sweden, there wasn't the coverage we had. What made our wedding so important?"

"It's never been done!" Zdravko blurted. "Not only the king and queen were favor of the marriage, but all of Makarovia were in favor of it!"

I nodded. "Exactly. It has never been done. It was that novelty that drew everyone's attention. It was that unfathomable fascination that made everyone want to see it to believe it."

"Eric has told me, I am naive." Peter smiled at me. "The reason I am naive is because I've always seen it and never was told it was wrong."

"That's what we're trying to do." I said. "If they see it enough, they won't be so shocked." I smiled at Zdravko. "We'll get them to see there is more than black and white. The world is full of colors and textures."

Zdravko smiled. "I can't wait., but it will be a hard, uphill battle."

Peter shrugged. "And?"

I chuckled looking out the window. "It's really beautiful in Montenegro. I look forward to being shown around by a real Montenegrin."

Zdravko was proud of Montenegro. He should be. It was his home in spite of how the others here treated him. That was the source of his mixed emotions.

"There are no clubs for us to visit." Zdravko admitted. "Cruising is done after dark in public parks. Some don't even know who they had sex with. Normally we have parties at someone's private home."

"Are they using safe sex?" I asked and Zdravko shrugged. "How does a young man or young woman find out about these parties?" I asked. "I know when I realized I was gay, I had access to others to help me."

"And your Grandmother." Peter chuckled.

I nodded. "Sure. Grandma knew about gays from her past. She accepted and helped me...and the internet had help to offer, too."

Zdravko smiled. "Almost everyone knows someone they think is gay and they win their trust." He shrugged and chuckled. "They all know I am. I get emails all the time from young people that are questioning. I am careful of who I email back. There are some cases that are that are just to blackmail someone. I use a careful screening process, especially for someone under fourteen."

"Fourteen!?" Peter balked.

Zdravko nodded. "That's the age of consent in Montenegro. At these parties, someone brings a new person who is asking for answers or even a boyfriend."

I shook my head. "That has to be tough."

Zdravko chuckled. "It is."

"The love that dare not speak its name," I smiled remembering those words.

Peter looked surprised at me. "What?"

"It's from a poem," I admitted with a sad smile. "That was in 1892. It was used at Oscar Wilde's indecency trial. " I looked at Peter and Zdravko. "Though he denied it, that was euphemism for Wilde's homosexuality."

"You never told me that." Peter said mockingly irritated.

"I'm always speaking Makarovian with you." I shot back. "I didn't think about it until now." I moved back a little from Peter. "My Grandmother didn't think about telling me she knew Anderson Cooper! It must be a family trait."

Peter nodded. "It must be."

Zdravko was laughing again. "You two get along so well!"

Peter and I nodded. "We're each other's best friend." I said simply.

Zdravko shook his head. "I would love that! I bet you two are fun."

"We invite you to find out." Peter grinned wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

Podgorica was a large city. There were smaller clusters towns of people around Montenegro certainly. Several on the coast. Podgorica was bigger than Skoal or Stryia. However, it was really just that one city. Montenegro was smaller than Makarovia. Another difference was the countries development. Makarovia was isolated and cut off from the world a good part of the year. Montenegro was not. They had traffic. I mean cars as people drove to where they needed to be. There was the "old world" charm that was mixed with the modern world. Multi story buildings for apartments and business were there. Hotels in the city and along the shores. I saw Ramada and Hilton had hotels here. There were the abundance of churches and a few mosques. There were monasteries naturally. I appreciated the age and architecture of them. I liked the scenery.

Another difference were the private homes. These were in small clusters. Spacing was pretty tight.

The people were from many countries around Montenegro. From the South came those who were Islamic, from the North were Christians.

We did make a few stops to admire some sites, but Peter and I didn't let go of each other. Our security was right with us. People were now gathering on the sidewalks to see us. No one dared to bother us.

We were taken to the Lanterna Podgorica. A restaurant. We were told by Zdravko it was the best in Montenegro. He had us try some local dishes. Let's be fair. A different food source really didn't exist. Fish is fish, chicken is chicken and so on. You cook whatever, but how you cooked it could be different. What spices you use and any condiment or sauce you use, that's the difference. Some dishes were from the neighboring countries. We had something called Buzara. It was a Shrimp Scampi from Croatia. This scampi had raisins in it! It had a very unique taste. Savory and sweet. I loved our seafood honeymoon! This dish was very good, but new for me. We also had Skadar Lake Carp. The lake I said Podgorica bordered? Remember? When the waitress came over, glancing at the security we had nearby, she hesitantly asked in Montenegrin something.

"Do you speak English?" Zdravko asked her.

She was still looking at Peter and me. "I can."

"Prince Pedro and Prince Eric can't speak Montenegrin," Zdravko said. "There are some languages they speak, but not ours."

Peter reached over taking my hand. He loved me, but this was a challenge to Montenegrins here.

Zdravko ordered the buzara, but recommended the carp. Montenegrin is written using the Cyrillic alphabet, but I couldn't read it. They had enough guests from English speaking countries to have the English translation there. The food was good!

Since it was around noon and we were seen. A woman was rapidly approaching us at our table. She had blonde hair that touched her shoulders and wore a business suit for women in blue. A man followed her with yet another camera. She had a microphone in her hand.

I grinned as Mikell stepped in front of her, blocking her way. Two others joined Mikell and stopped the man with the camera.

"All I want is some answers to some questions." She said in English to Mikell.

Mikell nodded. "As least have the courtesy to let them finish their meal. I will relay your request to his highness."

We did slow things down. Yes, it was to punish the press. That was mean.

Finally, we rose from the table and she was coming toward us.

"Can we do this outside?" Peter asked her. "This is a business."

Once outside in a little park, she asked us her questions. "I'm Inez Burgan with RTCG News. You were married on Saturday. Are spending your honeymoon here?"

I chuckled. "In a country that doesn't like us!? No."

Peter nodded. "Your country makes these huge steps forward in words and then by action steps back."

I added. "We were alarmed by the number of accounts of brutality on some of your own people." I raised Peter's and my hands were joined again. "To people like us."

"We were taught it was wrong." She said calmly, but her eyes almost twinkled. "It is against nature, but you don't see it that way."

"I think it's very natural." I said. "We are social creatures. Our very bodies were designed to have sex. Our brains are wired to have sex. As I said to your Mayor. The Bible tells us it's wrong, but it says other things are wrong that we choose to ignore."

"There are millions of us in the world!" Peter claimed. "Thousands here in Montenegro."

"You don't think it's a mental illness?" She challenged.

"It's not." I shook my head. "Some learned minds, doctors and scientists with a lot of education, removed homosexuality from the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Illnesses in the 1970's that's used by doctors around the world."

Peter said, "The next time someone says that it is a mental illness, I'd demand I to see their credentials. Let me see the evidence. Who told you and what training they had to say that."

"What you believe might be in error." I added. "Who cares what you believe. What do you know? There are parts of the Bible I can not agree with. Homosexuality is one."

"There is a large percentage of us in Makarovia." Peter said. "At one time it was almost half of our population."

I agreed. "Never take someone's word, have them show you where it came from. Then verify that yourself."

"There are people who believe the world is flat." Peter chuckled. "We all been shown its round. That tells us that belief its flat is wrong."

"You're using a portion of your honeymoon time to further your agenda?" She asked.

"There is no agenda. We don't recruit." I stressed. "We stopped here because this beautiful country is a paradox. Equal rights for everyone? Not for us." I again used my hands. "You say one thing," I raised my right hand, "but do the other." The left hand went up and the right one came down.

"Makarovia is Eastern Orthodox, right?" She asked. "Do you believe in God?"

I smiled and pointed at scenery, the green grass, flowers around us. "Oh, yes." I shook my head. "How can you look at the world with its complexity and not believe? This took billions of years to get what we often take for granted. We see more and more all the time. This wasn't just chance. Yes, I believe it was formed by something that can't be understood."

Peter was nodding in agreement. "I've been shown images and had explained to me the complexity of what we know is in space." Peter smiled. "Just like the complexity of life is here, it's just as complex out there." Peter pointed toward the sky. "It just causes me to see myself as so small. Hell, I'm not even a speck to what's out there."

"Eastern Orthodox formed because they didn't agree with how the Catholic Church was forming and went in another direction." I added and shook my head. "My point is...they didn't agree. We don't agree. You have rights to believe whatever you think is right. Respect others who don't."

"Just respect others." Peter said.

She turned from us and spoke to the camera and spoke the country's language. Before she left, she smiled as Peter and me. "I agree with you. What you two did is going to have a rippling affect."

Zdravko nodded his head. "I hope so."

We parted with Zdravko as we bordered the Duchess. We exchanged email addresses. We told him we were coming back in twelve or thirteen days and asked if he could, go with us to Makarovia. That plane I knew was going and could fly him home. He would email his answer.

Peter looked at Kotor. He sighed. "Montenegro is more progressive than Makarovia."

I smiled at him. "Makarovia is isolated much of the year. That will change. Those mountains protected more than Makarovia, but the Makarovians. They were too busy during the warm weather to prepare for Winter. Those mountains protected their innocence."

Peter grinned. "You see it as a good thing?"

"I do."

We had a busy day in Montenegro. Our next stop was Corfu, Greece. We shouldn't have any problems there with tolerance. Corfu was an island off the coast of Greece. I read on the Internet (bless all who had a hand in developing that) they had plenty of beaches. Peter was looking, too.

"Do you see something you want to see?" I asked him.

Peter nodded. "I do." He smiled at me and pointed to a picture of white sanded beach and beautiful blue water. "What I really like about it, is no one's on it."

I sat back a little. "You didn't like Montenegro?"

Peter gave a grudging nod. "It was fine." He said in nearly a whine. "I felt like we were inspecting troops or opening something."

I nodded. "You felt you were working."

"Yes!" He got closer to me. "We're on our honeymoon. I felt we were doing some...royal duty."

I tilted my head at him. "Aren't we?"

"We are in Makarovia." Peter clarified. "I just want to spend time with you."

Wanting to know how he felt I touched his chest, but I wanted him to know how I felt. "Finding you, I wasn't prepared for. Then coming to Makarovia, I most definitely did not expect."

"Now how do you feel about the title?"

I bumped my head to his. "It opens doors." I looked at him directly. "Hopefully, it will open eyes, too. Men and women are facing some severe homophobia." I shrugged. "I felt we were representing them. Aren't we?"

"Yes," he admitted slowly. "I'm being selfish again."

"No," I smiled. "You're not. You want to spend time with me and that's why we're on the Duchess, but you and I have not really been apart in the last two years except for classes mostly. It's nice to know you still feel that way." I leaned in a kissed him. "I do, too." I motioned at the computer monitor screen. "There are the usual churches and monasteries. There's Old Corfu Town and some museums." I chuckled lightly at his bored expression hearing that. "Or we speak with Captain Agius about his knowledge of this area and see if he knows of a beach not really that populated and hard to get to without a boat."

Peter grinned. "Do you think he does?"

"Mario has a private island," I said. "Maria may like the same thing. I know Mario has let his sister use his island. He's probably used the Duchess. The Captain will know."

The Duchess slowly cast off from the port in Kotor. Peter and I went to the office the Captain used.

I propped on the door frame. "Are you ever off duty?"

Captain Agius looked up and smiled. "I have time I take. Usually during in the between times we arrive at a port and leave a port. My first mate and second officer does fine during those times." He shrugged. "I did when you were ashore. There's not much pressure. I deal with port authorities a lot."

I nodded. "I know you do. Of course, you know a lot about the Mediterranean."

"Of course."

I asked. "Has the Countess or Mario asked for a private location around Corfu?"

Captain Agius shrugged. "Both." He grinned. "This yacht belongs to the Count, but the Bassos' use it the most. The Countess and Mario." He got up and pulled a nautical chart out. "To the South of Greece and Italy, there are a lot of islands. There are some that are not on a map." He grinned. "I know of one used by the Countess and Mario Basso." He chuckled. "Basically, it's sort of an..." he thought, "a reverse oasis." He waved out of the windows. "Surrounded by all this water, there is an oasis of land here." He pointed on the map, which I could barely understand. It had marked features underwater, of straits, mountain ranges (underwater) and canyons. I pointed at area between the boot heel of Italy and Corfu.

"I don't see it." Peter confessed.

"You wouldn't," the Captain chuckled. "It's barely an acre, maybe two." He shrugged a nod. "I haven't been in a year or two. There is a little vegetation. That depends on what was left from storms. It's really the peak of a mountain in a range located here. It's not really local enough for tourists from Greece or Italy."

"But there's a beach?" I asked.

"Last time I saw it," the Captain nodded. "It surrounded the vegetation."

Peter nodded. "That sounds perfect! Could we go?"

The Captain nodded. "You tell me where and I get you there." He said simply.

Peter leaned toward me and said not so quietly. "Oh, yeah, this is very dangerous."

Captain heard, naturally, and chuckled.

Henri smiled at us as we came to the table. "I hope you will hate this as much as you did what I gave you this morning." He placed a couple of steaming bowls in front of us and even said, "Voilà!" "This is a creamy Lobster Bisque and Escargot."

My eyes widened. "I had escargot once. It was delicious."

Again, the different languages didn't work. These were not in shells. "They are what?" Peter asked me.

"Ravlyky." I said in Makarovian.

"Is it?" He looked at them closer. "They have no shells."

"Snails are snails." I shrugged. "Have you had them?"

"Not yet," Peter smiled.

They were both very good. Henri came with the main course. It was a thick Cajun Crawfish Etouffee. Almost a stew! I had Shrimp Etouffee, but this had a creamy, buttery roux, or the soup part instead of the tomato based roux of Shrimp Etouffee. It also had a little bite. I was in love.

Henri came back about midway. "I hope you disliked it."

Peter shook his head. "I absolutely loath this." He pointed to his bowl. "This is my second bowl! I may have to force down a third bowl!!"

Henri liked us, but didn't know us yet. "It's not too spicy? It has a lot of peppers in it. Green Peppers, Black Pepper, Cayenne Pepper..."

I nodded. "I've not had many dishes that are too spicy."

"Have you had chili made from Seafood?" Henri said with a smile that said he knew we probably hadn't.

Peter's looked puzzled. "But you have one in mind?"

Henri nodded. "I do."

"What's in it?" I asked.

Henri shook his head. "I'm not telling you that. You have to see and taste it yourselves."

"Aw, Henri." I said in a pout.

"No." Henri said with that sharp and short the way the French do. "You must wait until tomorrow."

"That's mean!" Peter added.

"Yes." Henri nodded. "I know. I hear you will be here for lunch tomorrow. I'll serve it then. " He grinned evilly and went back into the galley.

I looked at Peter. "Oh, he's good."

We didn't have to be anywhere. Peter and looked out the window and saw nothing but water. On one side. On the other side there was what Captain Agius said. This island was tiny. Too small for any construction or development with a wide white beach that surrounded a few palm trees and some bushes. The most important part was no one else was there. We showered and changed.

Again, the breakfast was French. I hadn't really had anything French except for French Toast. I found that they really didn't do eggs very much in France for Breakfast. They ate lightly for Breakfast. Yesterday that dish had them, but not today. We had Chausson aux Pommes! Yeah, I hadn't even heard of them either. They were puff pastry things almost like a turn over, but was flaky like a croissant but had this a filling like applesauce inside it. They were warm and sinfully delicious. Henri told us they were common in France and he did know us enough to have our coffees.

The little island had a wide shelf below the water making the water turquoise. The distance from the ship to the beach was a little ways. The anchor would keep the Duchess where it was.

Mikell looked at the island. "How do I protect you way over there?"

Peter looked around the yacht and asked. "Protect us from who? From what? Seagulls!?"

"I know Captain Agius has something to see approaching vessels." I said. "Use that."

"Or even a pair of binoculars." Peter shrugged.

"You take some time off from your duties." I said. "We may go to Corfu tomorrow, but for today, relax."

We took an inflated rubber boat to the island. Peter did well piloting it and pulled it on shore to prevent it from floating away. It made sense that Mario and his sister knew of this island. The need to escape made them find these places or build them, like on Mario's private island.

We swam in the cool water and stretched out on the beach on towels. The only sounds were from the breeze, an occasional seagull, and the water. There weren't that many waves here.

Peter broke the spell a little as he said. "I was thinking about what you said yesterday."

I looked over at him. "I said a lot yesterday," I grinned. "Could you be more specific?"

"About us representing homosexuals in the world in dealing with homophobia."

"I remember." I said. "We aren't representing them all, I don't have the audacity."

"We are gay," Peter said. "We've been threatened because of that."

I nodded. "Who better to stand up for us?" I asked. "When we were in Montenegro, they could have arrested us if we were just a visiting couple. They wouldn't because of who we were and the world would see."

"If it gets shown," Peter said. "Zdravko said they didn't show anything with gay content."

"But Ms. Burgan said she agreed with us." I pointed out. "I think if they try to stop it, both of them will raise a stink. They can't deny we were there, there were a lot of people who saw us. There will be questions that will have to be answered."

Peter propped on his elbow. "They knew who we were." He grinned. "We were more than just a headline they knew about from a paper or heard about it on the news. That means they've seen us before. They knew what we did."

I smiled. "And what did we do?"

"We got married." Peter grinned then said in a sing song voice. "We're married."

I nodded as he leaned closer to me kissing me. "I remember."

I did keep a sharp eye on Peter's skin. Last year he got that burn from the sun and I didn't want that again. We spent a few hours that morning in the sun, but I didn't take the chance. Slathering him with a high SPF sunscreen helped, but it only stretched the time he could be in the sun. He could still burn.

We returned to the Duchess. We stopped by the galley and saw Henri.

"We're going to shower and clean up." Peter told him. "We'll be ready for that chili you promised."

"Oui, votre Altesse," he grinned saying your highness again in French. "And I will deliver! It just needs another..." he glanced at his watch, "forty minutes?"

"We'll be ready." I said.

"And hungry!" Peter said as I pulled Peter with me.

We took another shower to get rid of any sand and sweat. There wasn't much as we rinsed off in the blue water.

We were ready a little quicker than we asked us to be. Peter and I talked about what we wanted to do on Corfu.

"And here we are," Henri said grandly placing two steaming bowls in front of us. The aroma was enticing! You couldn't disguise shrimp too much. I saw them in the red of steaming liquid. It was no soup or stew. It was thicker. "I will tell you now. There is the shrimp, as you can see, there is crab meat and scallops." He looked seriously at us. "Boris told me that neither of you had allergies."

"None we know of," Peter said.

"It is a bit spicier than what you had yesterday..." Henri cautioned.

Peter pointed at me. "He and I have had five alarm chili."

Henri nodded. "Ah, this isn't that hot. Three alarm, perhaps." He placed some sliced French breads and butter in front of us. "This is for any chance it might be too hot." He said chuckling as he returned to the galley.

Truth was given from Henri. It was a bit spicier than yesterday. I didn't have to use the sweatbands I had to with the chili Peter mentioned.

Henri came again to ask if we hated it as much as the others. The evidence were our empty bowls. We both had two bowls, each!

"I can cook many things," Henri said. "I pretty well acquainted with other culinary styles. It doesn't have to be French."

"This wasn't French." I said.

"No," Henri confirmed. "It is thought to be from Mexico, but I don't think so."

"Where do you think it came from?" Peter asked.

"If it is from Mexico, it's interesting you almost never find it on Mexican Menus." Henri stated. "Most of the earliest accounts came from Spain, or rather from the Spanish Canary Islands to San Antonio. My guess it was Mexico when Texas was claimed by Mexico." He shrugged. "It evolved from there."

I grinned. "I saw there were no beans in yours."

Henri chuckled. "There is a famous quote that says, if you know beans about chili, you know that chili has no beans. Unless it's asked for, I don't."

I chuckled with him. "We can't thank you enough for doing this for us."

Henri nodded. "Ah, but you two are wonderful to cook for. Don't misunderstand. Countess von Bar eats well and they are both generous. I have watch what I make so they don't gain weight." He waved at the two of us. "You two are young men with good appetites and so appreciative. It's a pleasure to cook for you." He when into thought as he ran things over in his mind. "I think the Orient will be tonight." He looked at us. "Any objection?"

Peter and I shook our heads.

"You have all that in a freezer?" I asked.

Henri's eyes widened. "Mords ta langue!" He looked almost offended making Peter laugh. He knew what Henri said. "No! I never store anything in a freezer." Henri stated. "They are kept in a refrigerator, oui, but never frozen. I know many vendors in many ports. They are fresh."

"What did he say in French?" I asked Peter.

"Bite your tongue." Peter smiled and chuckled. "I've never heard a person from France say that."

"Now, you have," Henri corrected. "I will surprise you."

Peter had enough sun earlier as I noticed a slight "pinking" of his skin. He was so fair that he had to take it slowly. No one should be uncomfortable, especially on their honeymoon.

We again got on the computer to look at what Corfu offered.

Corfu was called the emerald island of Greece. It had plenty of plants and trees to earn that name. It was also known as the Grand Lady of Ionian. It had been under the control of Venetians, The French and Great Britain, but Greece got it in 1864. Greece was right there next to it just off Greece's Western side! They were practically touching. It was Greek. Much of what was built in Corfu was recent. Recent as in the medieval times from the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. Charleston was old, Stryia was very old, but this was thousands of years old. This was where one of the you had to read in high school came from. Odysseus' ship was wrecked here. There was also a New Fort was built in the 16th Century. Their Old Fort was went back to the 6th Century. A thousand years older than the New Fort!

Since there were different European countries in control of Corfu, there were a lot of buildings that reflected that in architecture and I knew it would be impressive. I'd enjoy seeing them, but I was really looking forward to seeing a far older Greece. An ancient Greece. Talk about what you read in high school. The myths in high school, it was in Athens I had learned they were from.

Modern Corfu was beaches and resorts. It was beautiful! And very popular. They had visitors from all over the world. I chuckled to myself. Mikell and the others were going to work tomorrow. We had spent a good amount of time on the beach and if we wanted more of that, we could just go back to that tiny island. I had to remind myself, we were doing this to be seen. As I also said, there were visitors from around the world. Corfu was very gay friendly. Hell, all of Greece was gay friendly. No, they didn't allow marriage...yet. They recognized Civil Unions. Semantics. They did have what they called Civil Marriages. They granted same gender couples many of the same rights as couples who are of the opposite sex. It was a very liberal country. They didn't allow marriages by the name yet. Civil Marriages just said "Persons." No bride or groom.

We would be seen. That was important. This was going to be an unplanned and unannounced visit. We didn't want giveaway where we were to anyone. That's why we had to skip going to Tel Aviv. It was possible to track the Duchess if they knew we were on it. That Middle East country that sent the missile could try again or the Consortium could take advantage of the situation and try to kidnap us. It was dangerous in this world.

Of course, whatever Henri was making in the galley had an aroma that was making me hungry. When I heard the noise coming from Peter. I knew he was feeling the same thing causing me to laugh at him.

"What?" Peter asked and shook his head. "It's been hours since we ate lunch. My stomach growled. I'm hungry!"

"I heard that." I pointed to his stomach and brought his head toward me kissing him. "You're Human. It's almost time."

Henri told us it was ready. We didn't race, but Peter got to his chair first. Sitting at the table Henri brought out...egg rolls? I'd had some before and loved them. Often they big, but these were about the size of your fingers. He placed a couple of ramekins each down with a red liquid and a brown liquid. That prevented any double dipping. The egg rolls put aromatic steam into the air.

"These are Spring Rolls from Hong Kong." Henri told us. "The red is a sweet dipping sauce and the brown is a tangier, savory dipping sauce." He grinned. "Your main course will be ready shortly."

I took a Spring Roll and dipped it into the sweet sauce, but had to wait for it to cool off. I blew on it to speed that up. Again, there few words to express what I tasted. It was heavenly! The outer shell was crispy and had a nice, light crunch.

"Oh, my God!" Peter's eyes shut as he savored the taste. He opened the them and asked. "You have got to try the savory one."

Since there wasn't any double dipping. (Really? We kissed and shared body fluids frequently, so double dipping was not a problem.) I dunk my half eaten Spring Roll in my savory sauce. "Damn, this is Divine." It was a little sweet, but not like first I tried. The flavors married and made the egg roll even better. I knew one of the tastes and looked at the filling. There was the colors that lettuce or something added. Those little bits of white meat told me what I knew. It was shrimp and crab meat. I looked at Peter. "Okay, how are we doing this? Do we drug him or just knocking him out?"

Peter chuckled. "We can't do that. Not if we ever want go on the Duchess again." He grinned. "Besides, Boris is a talented chef, also. He cooks as well as Henri."

I sulked a little. "I know, but seven or eight days of this, they will have to use a crowbar to pry my fingers loose from the bulkhead."

Peter chuckled at that.

I had seen the inside of the galley. I saw the monitor that showed the dining area. All Henri had to do was look at that and he knew when we were finished. He came out with a platter of something.

"Are you getting tired of seafood? Of shrimp?" Henri asked.

"Mords ta langue!" I shot back using what he'd said to me earlier. Now I was telling him to bite his tongue. I looked at Peter. "Are you tried of it?"

Peter shook his head. "Not even a little bit, but I look forward to getting that way. We'll let you know when we had enough."

Henri nodded grinning. "Okay." He placed the steaming platter in between us. "This also from Hong Kong." He held his hands together and bowed. I could almost hear a big gong being struck. "This is Honey Orange Firecracker Shrimp. Xiǎng shòu." He smiled. "That's Chinese for enjoy." He winked at us and went back in the galley.

We each tasted this dish. It was so good, there was almost a chorus of "ahhs" from a choir of angels as the awareness of how good it was hit us. We were enlightened now. I tasted the sweet of the honey, the light orange flavor and why it was called Firecracker Shrimp. There was a slight "pop" of Cayenne Pepper.

I looked at Peter who was having the same sensation as I was as his eyes closed. He sighed and he smiled. "Can we do a reverse shanghai?" He used his fork to gesture. "You know how they often took men when in port to serve on ships in the past. Can't we get that Henri from this ship?"

I chuckled with him. "We could."

We were kidding, but...Henri was good. So, was Boris.

It was so peaceful by that tiny island. No traffic by Humans talking or driving cars. There was no chaos here. It was silent. We weren't that far from Corfu and getting there would only take a couple of hours. We even left the windows open to get the fragrant breeze. The yacht was big, so there was only the slightest of rocking movements. It was as if we were gently rocked to sleep. The silence was almost too loud if you can understand that. My ears were straining to hear something. Anything. I did hear something surface in the water gently near us and went away. It sounded pretty large, too It was probably a dolphin. It was a slow and gentle sound. It could be a whale. Then another and several at once. A whole Pod of a whole family of dolphins or whales dropped by. I finally surrendered and went to sleep.

The morning came again. Peter and I had gotten lazy. All our needs and wants were met. Of course, we got lazy. I didn't even realized we moved, but it sounded different. We are so used to hearing the world around us that we miss it when it's not there. Now we heard the sounds of other ships or boats around us. The hum or drone of life had returned. It wasn't loud. Why is it there is always that bell ringing slowly in the distance when there are other boats? It happened in Charleston, too. Even if there was no one on board that lazy, occasional clang was here. They didn't need the time of day or night. No one was on watch. It could be soothing at times, but it woke me up. It rang.

I stretched and felt the arm around me tighten and myself being pulled back.

"Good morning, husband." Peter's voice came softly in my ear.

The morning stretch I did was doing its job. My grin was just natural as Peter pulled me closer to him. I rolled to face him. "Good morning." I held my left hand up and looked at my wedding band. "I was never a person that wore jewelry. I wore my watch and that was it. Now, I wear two rings." I wiggled my wedding ring. "This one I am the most proud of. I'll never take it off." I smiled showing my right hand. "I never take this one off either."

Peter smiled. "It's your miniature crown. Only an Ivanov can wear it."

"You gave that one to me last year." I stated. "I wasn't an Ivanov then."

Peter chuckled. "Yes, you were." He kissed me. "Even if you didn't change you name...if you were Prince Eric Richards, you were an Ivanov." He kissed me again. "You were back in November before that."

"Yeah," I put my arms around him. "I love you."

"I know." Peter smiled. "That's what makes it special. We know we love each other."

Corfu, which Greeks here called Kerkyra. I should qualify that. We were berthed near a part of town called Mantouki. Yeah, I thought it sounded a bit like some Native American name or even Hawaiian to me, too. Here many boats were around us in this harbor. This was not a commercial harbor with ships that hauled imports or exported freight. There were many large pleasure craft sharing this area of harbor. I know, size wasn't important, but part of me was pleased that the Duchess could give all of them a challenge on size and beauty. Those who say size doesn't matter are usually those who know they couldn't compare and win. The Duchess could.

"We've got to send the Countess von Bar a special handwritten thank you." I said quietly.

Peter didn't say no, but asked. "Okay. Why handwritten?"

"Because it's more personal," I said. "We can't just send a thank you note. I don't know of any store that sells birthday, get well and holiday cards that would have one for our, hopefully will be, my stepfather-in-law's sister and her husband. Do you?"

Peter chuckled. "No."

"She would become family." I said and thought. "Would she be a step-aunt-in-law?"

There were places to visit. There were beaches, but Peter had some sun and needed what he got to sink in. There were museums and galleries here and an outdoor market. I will say again, the buildings here were more modern. The houses and village was like many that were close together. One of the oldest buildings here was a Roman Bath, Corfu Parliament and Gardiki, a Byzantine castle, that was very old. Most of the buildings were old, but recent as in the 16th, 17th, and 18th centuries. You know I was wanting older, more ancient structures. Besides, a lot of the structures reflected European Countries in style. I wanted Greek. Columns and things like that. There were a lot of churches and monasteries that were pretty old. I wanted temples to Zeus, Aphrodite, Apollo, Ares, and other of the gods. We would, I promised myself. There weren't many places where the year had a BC attached to when it was built, but I knew there were some.

The other thing to worry about was this was a major attraction and tourists came. There were a lot of people there at the end of Spring and the beginning of Summer.

At breakfast, Henri placed a couple of plates in front of us that looked like a couple of waffles. The square shaped pattern told me that. A little smaller than I was used to.

"These are Liege Waffles," Henri had fruits and syrup for the waffles. "Have either you had them?" Peter and I shook our heads. "These are not like the others. They're more dense and chewier. They are from Belgium, but not Belgium Waffles. They're sweeter even without syrup. You may not even want syrup. The people of Brussels often eat them by hand on the way to work."

He hadn't led us wrong yet. I cut a piece off eating it slowly to get the flavor. It crunched, but it wasn't the crisp of waffle batter cooked lightly crisped, but the crunch was sweet. I know I had my eyebrows raised in question.

Henri chuckled. "Oui, I told you it was sweet. I put pearl sugar in the batter. That sugar doesn't really blend with the batter, but it melts on the waffle iron. It caramelizes, making it have a browned sugar crunch."

He was also right about it being denser and chewy. It wasn't a problem, it was delicious. Who needed syrup?

Henri's smile said he knew we would like it. "You need something to stick with you as you walk about Corfu."

Henri made Canadian Bacon and Croissants. Oh, and our coffees. I drank the milk he served, too. I loved the stuff. I was not lactose intolerant. Mom and Grandmother said I was lactose dependent. Maybe they're right. I had to drink milk before I started my day as much as coffee.

Peter sat back in his chair and sighed. "I need to work out."

"You and I certainly do."

Peter grinned. "We'll start that tomorrow. Today we're going through Corfu."

I stood in front of Mikell as we got ready to go ashore and asked. "You guys aren't wearing those dark suits here, are you?"

Mikell frowned. "It's a great deterrent."

"Uh huh, so is that face you use when on-duty. It could get up to thirty degrees Celsius here." That was getting toward eighty-five in Fahrenheit. "You'll die of heat exhaustion!"

Mikell laughed. "I suppose we could wear shorts, t-shirts and sports shoes."

"Your weapons won't be concealed." I said. "That will be a deterrent." I thought a second. "What are the gun laws on Corfu?"

Mikell nodded. "We're fine. Yuri asked King Olek to call the government in Greece. I have the certificate of authorization."

"How'd he do that!?" I asked as my eyes widened. "It was just a day or two when we decided where to go."

"Yuri and Boris knew you were coming to Greece. They just didn't know which part." Mikell shrugged. "Greece is wanting to cut oil and gas imports, which is more than half of their consumption for generating power."

"Olek offered them a deal." I smiled at Mikell. "Nuclear power has a big danger, too."

Mikell nodded. "If Dr. Schneider installs and controls the building of the power plants, Greece agreed. We have the certification."

I smiled. The future queen had a reputation of being thorough with what she did.

"Great!" I said. "Now, go get dressed." I turned him around and gave him a light shove.

We got off the Duchess on the pier. The island of Corfu was the second largest in the Ionian Sea. It was about twenty-five or thirty kilometers in length. The Northern portion was maybe ten kilometers wide. Their web-page said there were just over one hundred thousand people that called Corfu home. They had done something I hoped Makarovia was going to do. They became somewhere people wanted to come. Corfu had some gorgeous beaches. Makarovia had snow. A lot. We could compete the Swiss and become the ski destination to come to. My mind was still toying with ice palace idea that we could construct. Ice sculptures, but more infrastructure was needed. Roads had to be added. The new tunnels for the underground helped, but November to March or April snow and ice was the problem.

Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh was born here. Queen Elizabeth, the Second's husband? Homer's Odyssey was here. It's been here a looonng time. Something had to happen during that couple of thousand years. It was inevitable

Peter and I dressed for the warm weather. There were the breezes surrounding water to make it tolerable heat-wise. Shorts and loose t-shirts wore by all of us. Our six guarding us had loose shirts over the t-shirts to try to conceal their holsters and gun chest high for quick access. Shoes you wore when at an event you had to be in shoes with traction was on the feet of our security. The dark glasses looked normal now in this situation. I know, they have job to do and took it very seriously. I just wished they'd smile a little. That made us unapproachable. I've seen grown men walk off when felt they were looking at them. No language needed or action necessary. Their faces said, "don't even think about it." No one challenged that. I kept having to remind myself that they weren't on a honeymoon or vacation. They were working. Still, I worried about them. They would defend Peter or me with their lives if necessary. I just didn't want them to do that. They all didn't watch us all the time. If needed, they told Mikell and took breaks for the bathroom and took breaks for a few minutes. Just not all at once. They were Human Beings. I insisted they drank water. These men were from Makarovia and more used to dealing with cold weather, not warm. You'd think after two years of having this happening, I'd be used to it by now. I was...sort of. We were escorted to class by them and the house in Boston was guarded by them. They went wherever we went, except in the palace. The past month they were closer because of the many unknown people there.

In doing a little research on the computer, I found out about the Temple of Artemis! That was built in 580 BC! And Gorgon! That mythical creature with snakes for hair. Remember? One look by her turned you to stone? Perseus got help to kill her using a highly reflective shield? I know you remember her. She was depicted on that triangle thingy held up on those columns I wanted to see. Pediment was what that triangle thingy was called. Then I found out hardly anything remained but the pediment. Damn it. No, I didn't believe I would see a temple still standing after a couple of thousand years in predestine condition. I knew the Parthenon was crumbling, but it was still there.

Those gods. They were a Greek Olympian soap opera. With Zeus out screwing literally anyone that catches his eye, he had children with many. Hera, his sister-god-wife would get jealous and turn the poor woman into a monster. Why did she strike out to the woman or man victimized and not Zeus? What about love? Did Zeus love any of them? Did he even love Hera? Who knows? I said it in the ninth grade and I say it again, he couldn't have. Was Hera's power greater than Zeus' power? He was the god-king! The all-powerful Zeus! He couldn't change them back!? Apparently not any more than he could keep his pecker under his tunic. Back to Corfu.

Peter was right beside me at the computer when he suggested, "We can always go to the fortresses, both the new and old ones."

I nodded. "We can, we've got time." I looked at him. "We probably will, but..." I sighed. "We live in a fortress. So, forgive me if I can't get that excited to see these two."

Walking was the best way. Yes, if there was something farther to see, we'd have to arrange transport and to transport eight...it was just too complicated. We told Henri we wouldn't be back for lunch. Why would we? We were in tourism city. That was their claim and we knew there would be great restaurants here.

Using my phone to see where we were going, I found an open market. I don't mean a grocery store. They had produce with fruits and vegetables around, but this was for art! Crafts and all that? There were paintings, statues and even jewelry. There was pottery, vases, bowls, big and small, and jars painted and on display to purchase! You don't have to be gay to appreciate that, but it didn't hurt.

"I have to get something." I said to Peter as I looked at all that they offered.

Peter shrugged a nod. "You know these aren't authentic, probably."

"And what's your point?" I asked him. "I don't care if it is or isn't, it's a reminder of our trip to Corfu."

Peter chuckled. "Okay."

I said before, I was now wearing twice as much jewelry than I have in my life. Except for a watch, that was it. Now, a ring on each of my hands were there. We skipped those vendors.

The other thing were the stares. This area had a lot of foot traffic. Many people were staring. You could see people talking to who they were with, confirming they saw us. We did make an impression. Eight men together wasn't that surprising, but how the six guards came with us. They weren't looking at what was available to buy. They were looking around us for any threat. I did note that Mikell and the others let the loose shirts blow open enough to show they were armed.

We did get some vendors a little excited. I saw vase...and that's pronounced vahse according to Katrina Sams. I saw one that caught my eye. It was a two handled vase or pitcher with one on each side for symmetry. About forty-five centimeters tall. (A foot and a half inches.) It was a light brownish color with dark brown silhouettes of people that were approaching a centaur, that part man and part horse creature? It was art.

Then a man in his forties came up as we looked at his wares. He was Greek with the darker olive skin and black hair. A pleasant looking and happy man. "Boró na sas voithíso, tin ýpsosí sas?" He said to himself in Greek and then he caught what he'd done. He bowed, "Forgive me, Your Highness. Your wedding was in English. I speak it well."

Again, the accent was unique. I smiled at him. "I hear that." I turned to Peter I spoke in Makarovian. "My kupuyemo dlya Oleka ta Khelʹhy?" Asking if we were buying for Olek and Helga.

Peter shrugged. "My mozhemo tse zrobyty," He smiled at me saying we could. Then said in English. "Or we buy something at the next port."

I looked at him. "I like this vase."

"Okay," Peter nodded with a smile, "Buy it."

Then I knew what I'd done. "My apologies. It's such a part of me...I shouldn't have done that. It's rude to speak in a language in front of someone that may not understand. We do it all the time."

He smiled bigger. "I spoke Greek first."

I chuckled. "There's a phrase in English used when we don't understand something. It's all Greek to me. Now, you just really did."

The man laughed, but shook his finger in a "no, no" gesture. "I am sorry, but you are not the first person to say that."

"Sure," I chuckled. "Someone already stole my thunder." I looked at him. "Do you ship from here or know where we can?"

"Of course." He said logically. "You have more to see in Corfu. I will send it. Carrying it around you could break it." He looked at me questioning. "Do I send it to Makarovia?"

I was about to send it to the Duchess. People knew we lived in Makarovia and in Boston, but not the address. They probably saw us get off the Duchess. I couldn't send it to a future port. I'd be giving people where we were going away.

I sent it to Boston addressed to our Press Secretary, Don Wilson in Boston. I would send a text before it arrived to prevent excitement and misunderstanding when receiving the package. I was sure he did it for the officers he served with. I just didn't want to disappoint him.

We had fun! For the two of us, at least. I know what I said.. I swear I'll let it go. Eventually.

This time, it was my stomach that spoke up with a gurgle.

"Okay." Peter said quickly as he chuckled and pointed. "There's the Tratamento Cafe."

"Why here?" I asked not caring, but why here?

"They serve seafood." Peter said simply. "We have to keep up with the meal theme. I'm nowhere near tired of it yet."

The man behind a counter writing something looked up as we came in. I better understood why people got their entitlement issues. He was a man about Peter's and my age. There was instant recognition. Again, eyes widened and he hurried over...well almost. Mikell stopped him with a raised hand from getting too close. The others got closer to Peter and me.

"Your Highness!" He bowed to us as he said something in Greek. But, like the vendor I bought the vase from, he seemed to be speaking to himself.

I grinned at the place. This was casual dining! It was clean with tables and chairs inside and outside! This was my kind of dining. Comfortable.

"Seating for eight?" The man asked.

"No," Peter replied. "Just two." He looked at Mikell. "These gentlemen are working."

Then the man saw a gun and knew what they were. "Oh, I see."

Other patrons here were looking and doing it again as they confirmed we were who they thought we were. I knew a lot of people saw the wedding, but not everyone approved. I didn't see any frowns aimed at us. No, we weren't that important, but we made a spectacle in the world getting married as we did.

"Is there a place where they can watch over us?" I asked pointing at some tables outside. I looked at Mikell. "Is that okay?" Mikell nodded his reply. His face hadn't changed.

The man seating us nodded. "I'm Damon. Can I get you a drink?"

The rest was a typical restaurant experience. Because they had so many English speaking people, the menu was in English, too. Face it, a fish is a fish. What they called it was different. If you couldn't pronounce it, there were pictures to point at and fingers to tell how many. These Greeks even made French Fries...or Crisps.

Calamari for an appetizer and a Greek pasta and scallops and shrimp. It was good! It wasn't Italian. I've had theirs. This tasted different. I could taste the spices and olive oil in the tomato sauce. Yes, I know it's gravy with Italians. I didn't know what the Greeks called it.

I had a friend that came to Greece with an Italian. He said to the Italian it was macaroni and gravy that all Italians called it. His Italian friend got defensive. When my friend said they were the same, Italians and Greeks, his Italian friend vehemently denied it. The Italian became almost furious when told Italians stole the Greek gods, too. My friend obviously survived as it was told in past tense. They are still very, very good friends.

"I bet Henri will can do this." Peter pointed at his plate with his fork.

It was a very pleasant trip. Corfu was beautiful. The people were friendly.

"Where do we go tonight?" I asked. "They only have one club for us in Corfu."

"One!?" Peter asked shocked and not understanding how that could be.

I chuckled. "And how many gay clubs does Makarovia have?"

Peter had to think a second. "None, but..." he nodded slowly as he got it. "Oh, they're so open no one is refused."

I kissed him quickly. "Exactly."

We asked Captain Agius when we were going to leave. He chuckled. "Whenever you want to leave."

It was more dangerous with each passing day.