“Who do you marry first?”

King Gregory had to indulge his grandson’s scheme to replenish the ranks of their depleted royal family. It could never happen while he still possessed his wits.

“Following traditions, which I know you will insist, I’d like to be wed to Lady Rowena.”

The king looked at his plate as if he ate something laced with marijuana. What he heard was in the region of hallucination.

“She is almost ten years older than you. Did you inform her of your plans?”

“For the good of the kingdom, she obliged.”

“Really?” the king was surprised. He recognized her as one of the younger girls then who was infatuated with Kerry’s father. Now, she wanted the son instead. “Are you sure?”

“Or,” Kerry contemplated for a while, “Lady Jean if her father will permit.”

“She’s not available, I assure you.”

“And why not, Grandpa?”

“She’s not your type.” The king would not elaborate. “Who’s the third?”

“Mother was most elated to know that I picked an American girl. She is half-American and half-Eurasian with mixtures of African and Latin blood.”

“Where did you find such an exotic beauty?” King Gregory was almost perplexed how she came about in this world. “Don’t tell me you saw her in the Internet.”

“Grandpa, she’s our neighbor in the States, my childhood sweetheart.”

King Gregory could not think clearly. He was back to his original option not to let his grandson go through with his wild ambition.

“You know I will always support your plans,” he paused, patting Kerry on the back, “however, there are more pressing problems in the kingdom than planning your early marriage.”

“Which is?”


“Bingo! I got you, Grandpa.” His low whisper nearly reached the king’s ears.

“What did you say?”

His convoluted ruse worked. It would be easier to ask the king’s blessing for his matrimonial plans than request him to implement drastic changes in the whole kingdom.

“I will abide by your command,” he bowed with a grin on his face.



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