In the Year of Our Lord, 1684

Gregor had been told that Aleksander began to feel worse the first night of Gregor's departure. No medication administered provided any relief. By morning, he was vomiting blood and falling in and out of consciousness. In one of his lucid moments, he asked for Gregor to be brought back to Ruudania and so he was.

Gregor knocked softly upon the great oak door and entered. Aleksander was asleep in bed and Gregor barely recognized him. Aleksander's once solid features were now shriveled and his great mane of black hair was nothing more than wispy strands. He was nothing more than a skeleton with a bit of off colored skin attached. The difference from just a few days before was utterly amazing.

Gregor sat on the bed and looked at his father. He was so grateful for the time they spent together over the last year. He wished for more time with him, but he knew that was not to be. His mother was calling to take her husband home.

Choked with emotion, Gregor said softly, "Father, I am home."

The great man's heavy eyelids fluttered as he recognized his son's voice from a distance. Everything looked and sounded so far away to him now, except for when Katrina visited him. She was always as clear and sharp as if he had eagle's eyes. She had seemed disappointed when he refused to go with her during her last visit, but he had made a promise to Gregor and he meant to keep it.

"I told you I would still be here when you returned," he gasped.

"You always keep your promises, father." Gregor reached forward and took one of Aleksander's hands into his. "You must keep your strength, father. There is no need to talk right now."

"There is no better time to talk than now, my son. Your mother insists I come with her and I cannot refuse her anymore." Gregor turned his head and brushed tears aside.

"Mother could be quite impatient when she wanted something," Gregor said.

"Yes, she could," Aleksander agreed, "and she still is." He winced as a pain went through him. Although he had been given highly powerful pain medications, the pain was still strong and non-relenting.

"Maybe you should rest," Gregor suggested.

"There is not time to rest, my son. Come closer and listen to me." His voice was barely above a whisper now. Gregor moved closer and bent forward. "Listen to your ministers," he wheezed. "They are good men. We have discussed what to look for when they are looking after themselves and not the common good, so keep your eyes and ears open."

"Yes, father."

"Khirolenkov is old and he may not be useful for very long," he continued. "Watch Zebenoz," Aleksander instructed, "for he is very ambitious."

"Yes," Gregor nodded. They had discussed every advisor for the past few weeks and Gregor knew whom to trust explicitly and who he needed to watch. "I will be careful. You are a great teacher."

Aleksander sighed. "I never wanted this for you, son. It should never have come to this."

"It is alright. I accept it, father. I have always accepted it."

Aleksander looked over his son's shoulder and saw her again, reaching for him and smiling. "Katrina?" he asked weakly as he held out his hand.

"Father?" Gregor looked at his father's eyes as they were looking beyond him. "Father?" he asked again, not comprehending. He looked behind him and saw nothing. He then looked forward and saw his father had fallen asleep for all eternity.

Gregor kissed his father's hand softly before carefully removing the great emerald ring from his finger and placing it on his own as was custom. He pulled on the bell cord three times in measured amounts and Tschaikov appeared moments later.

"Announce the passing of King Aleksander IV and toll the bells," he instructed. "Send for the physician, the undertaker, and the archbishop."

Tschaikov bowed and turned to leave. "Yes, Your Highness. As you wish." He was visibly shaken by the news.

"One more thing," he said. Tschaikov stopped. "Send for Princess Ingrid and make sure everything is done to make her the most comfortable."

"Yes, Your Highness. Right away."

Gregor sat down heavily in a velvet chair that was a favorite of his father's. His father lay in bed as Gregor had left him and he looked to be in peace. Gregor now understood those last few seconds of his life and he was happy for him. There was no more pain and he was now with his beloved Katrina once more. His ears were alerted to the mournful tones of the large bell in the east tower, one loud gong after another that signaled the death of Aleksander IV. He barely remembered his grandfather's death and funeral and perhaps that was for the better. It had been a scary time for the entire family and things did not settle down for almost a year.

Within minutes, the physician arrived and examined the fallen leader. After the examination, he shook his head sorrowfully and carefully crossed Aleksander's arms over his chest. He brought the sheet over his waist and under his arms before backing away, his head bowed in reverence.

The archbishop of Ruudania arrived shortly thereafter with two clergymen to aid him. He bowed to Gregor before moving to the bed.

Holding a crucifix in front of him, he bellowed, "Aleksander, it is time to awake!" The two clergymen slammed their staffs they were carrying upon the stone floor. Again, the archbishop howled, "Aleksander, it is time to awake!" Once again, the staffs were slammed to the floor.

The archbishop turned to one of the clergymen and was given a large fern dipped in blessed water. He sprayed Aleksander with the water while reciting incantations. After this, he reached around Aleksander's neck and removed the sacred cross necklace which was given to each new ruler upon their coronation. When this was done, the ceremony was finished. Gregor followed the group out of the room as the undertaker arrived and began his preparations.

Gregor knew what was to happen in the next few days. His father's body would lay in state at the cathedral for three days before the funeral. This being a Friday, the actual funeral would take place the following Tuesday. Aleksander would be buried within the cathedral where Gregor's ancestors had been interred for centuries. A week following would be his coronation.

For the time being, Gregor knew he would have little time to mourn. He would have to gather the ministers together for a collective meeting and then meet each one individually. Those meetings could wait until the morning. Funeral arrangements and other things needed to be attended to in the morning as well. It was not too late, so Gregor made his way to his sister's rooms to tell them the news, although he suspected they already knew from the tolling of the bell.

It was a tearful reunion and Gregor reminisced with them for an hour or more. They were holding up very well under the circumstance and that made Gregor's burden easier to handle. They even volunteered to handle most of the funeral arrangements, which was a weight Gregor was reluctant to handle at that point. He assumed, though, that some preparations were already in the works and his sisters would not have too much to oversee. It was well past midnight when Gregor finally decided to retire to his room.

Morning came quickly and after getting dressed and having a light breakfast, Gregor took Storm for a romp through the hills. It felt good to be astride him once again and Storm appeared to appreciate the exercise. Knowing he and his sisters were expected at the cathedral at noon to open the vigil for his father lying in state, Gregor pointed his steed home.

Once there, he had a short meeting with the advisors and informed them he would meet with them individually in the coming days. After that, he was whisked to the wardrobe room where he was outfitted in his finest dress uniform, one befitting the King-to-be.

He and his sisters arrived at the cathedral shortly before noon in an open carriage as thousands lined the streets in hopes of getting perhaps a glimpse of him. Gregor acknowledged them all with a wave and appeared cheered as they chanted his name and wished him well. Gregor, Marta, and Xenia marched up the famous forty-five steps and entered the great church. Guards stood erect at each corner of the open coffin. The Ruudanian flag was draped over the foot end of the coffin and Aleksander looked resplendent in his uniform and jewels. At first glance, Gregor thought the undertaker did a remarkable job with his father and had him looking as he remembered. Closer inspection, however, could not hide the devastating effect the illness had upon his father. Fortunately, the people would not be able to get close enough to observe what the children could see. The service lasted a short time before the people were allowed to come in and pay their respects once Gregor, Marta, and Xenia departed.

This ritual continued for the next two days as the children would pay their respects first before the doors were opened to the public. Gregor expected Ingrid would arrive before the funeral, possibly as early as Monday afternoon. He thought about her from time to time and sometimes felt guilty that she was not in his constant thought, but he had many things to do before the funeral. Heads of state were beginning to arrive and formal introductions were made. Some, Gregor knew, and some, he did not. He knew he was being observed closely and being measured for future contacts. The same could be said of the dignitaries he was meeting. Gregor's keen eye and intuition told him whom he could trust as an ally and of whom he should be wary.

It did not surprise Ingrid when representatives from Ruudania arrived early Sunday morning. From the tone of Gregor's voice before he departed from the wedding, she expected them. She and her mother set sail within hours of their arrival and they arrived in Ruudania in the early evening on Monday, much to the delight of Gregor, who was unable to greet them at the pier as he had done so before. Once in the castle, they embraced tearfully and held each other for the longest time.

They did not receive much time alone that first evening as Ingrid was tired from her journey and Gregor had matters of state to attend. Ingrid and Helga retired early as Gregor continued to meet with persons from all over the continent.

A rain storm greeted Gregor Tuesday morning and he thought it befitting. It was a gloomy day to match his mood. He had not slept well and he was anxious to have the day completed. Giving Storm a hearty ride was out of the question for he did not wish to take a slippery spill on the day of his father's funeral.

Once he bathed and dressed, Gregor was sitting at his desk writing when a knock was heard upon his door.

"Enter," he called, and the door opened slowly. Ingrid poked her head through the opening.

"I hope I am not disturbing you," she said softly.

Gregor stood quickly and said, "Of course not, Ingrid. Do come in." She closed the door behind her as Gregor pushed his papers aside and walked towards her. She was wearing a dark gray dress and her red curls were in a tangled weave above her shoulders..

He kissed her tenderly as a greeting. "You look beautiful, my love," he remarked. "A wonderful sight for sore eyes."

"You are too kind to compliment me at a time like this."

Gregor looked down. "Well, yes, maybe," he then looked back up, "but it is the truth. I missed you so. I am so glad you are here." He then pulled her close and hugged her.

"Nothing could have kept me away." She hugged him back and then drew away. "There are some things I need to know, Gregor."

"Yes?"

"What happens today? What do I do? Do I stay with you?"

Gregor looked at her thoughtfully. "We will ride separately to the cathedral, but once we are there, you will walk with me into it. I was hoping for a more formal introduction for you, but this is the way it is to be. You will stay with me throughout the day and at the reception here where you will be introduced to everyone."

"Oh." Ingrid had not thought she would be such an important part of Gregor's day.

"Do you approve of that?" he asked her.

"There is nothing to approve or disapprove, my love. It is the way it is to be. Is that not correct?"

Gregor smiled. "That is entirely correct. How did I become so blessed as to meet you? I am so lucky to have you!"

"It is I who am blessed," she rebuked him gently.

The rain had stopped for the time being as Ingrid and Helga rode in a stately carriage behind Gregor and his sisters. The rain soaked streets were lined on both sides and most onlookers were curious as to who were the inhabitants of the second carriage. Their engagement was still not common knowledge and had yet to be announced formally. However, when Ingrid walked with Gregor up the steep steps, all curiosity had been sated. The murmurs from the crowd were unmistakable as they craned their heads to see the young woman, their future queen.

Once inside, Ingrid saw the open coffin directly in front of them. She also saw the throng of invited persons already seated on both sides of the great aisle. Once again, the murmurs could be heard as she and Gregor walked slowly towards the coffin. Many a young maiden who thought perhaps she had a chance at snaring the young prince sighed sadly upon the revelation.

They stopped at the coffin and knelt down beside it. Ingrid could not believe the difference in Aleksander and it saddened her greatly to think of how he had suffered. A few minutes later, a gentle nudge from Gregor urged her to rise with him and take their places in the front.

The funeral was solemn and long as the archbishop prepared Aleksander for burial. Gregor could hear the soft crying from his sisters who were seated behind him. He wished to comfort them, but it was not his place now. It was he who now had to comfort the entire country and to guide it through its mournful state. The enormity of this was not lost on him and he felt it to be quite a task for one so young. But his father had taught him well and with time, he would soon show everyone he was indeed his father's son.

Gregor and Ingrid were clearly the center of attention at the reception following the funeral. Much to Gregor's surprise and delight, Ingrid spoke nothing but Ruudanian to everyone she met. Her speech was not perfect and she made mistakes, but she was easily understood. Because she was brave enough to try and she knew it would please him, his love and admiration continued to grow for her.

It was just before the feast was to begin when Gregor stood and asked for everyone's attention. With over five hundred pairs of eyes riveted on him, Gregor raised his goblet and spoke.

"To my father, King Aleksander IV. May his memory live forever and may I become half the leader he was, for then I will be truly successful."

There were murmurs of "Hear! Hear!" throughout the banquet hall.

"And," Gregor said as he regained their attention, "to Princess Ingrid of Kesse, my future bride." He gestured in her direction as she blushed. "I have found her at the perfect time and I am blessed." Gregor raised his goblet to the approval of all the guests. A plentiful feast of wild game, a variety of vegetables, and generous supply of fruity wine filled each guest and none left hungry.

It was strange at first for Gregor to speak to Ingrid in his native language, but after several gentle reminders to him that she now preferred to speak Ruudanian while she was there, it became easier for him. The reception did not last long and it was early evening when the last guest departed. More emotionally tired than anything, Gregor wished nothing more than to retire early for a well deserved rest. However, it was a greater desire to spend time with Ingrid alone. They went to the library where they sat on one of the plush sofas.

Gregor leaned back and sighed tiredly. "I am certainly gladthatis over," he remarked. He reached over and patted her hand. "I am so glad you were here with me."

Ingrid placed her hand over his and squeezed lightly. "I had to come. You would have done the same for me." She then leaned to her left and kissed his cheek.

Gregor was able to smile slightly. Her gentle touch was exactly what he needed. "You made quite an impression today. Everyone was very impressed with your command of our language. You are a remarkable woman."

"If you say so, Gregor."

"I know so, my dear."

He drew Ingrid close and kissed her tenderly on the lips. They kissed for a long time, losing themselves in their love for the other and losing track of the time as well. Her lips were softer than he ever remembered and he felt he could kiss her forever. When they did part, Ingrid's eyes were closed and she was smiling dreamily.

"I could kiss you all night long," she said when her eyes slowly opened.

"Are you tempting me?" he inquired. He almost hoped she was serious for there was nothing more he wanted to do but hold Ingrid and kiss her forever.

"There you go again, making fun when I try to be serious."

"I was not making fun," he replied. "I was serious. Kissing you all night would be a wonderful proposition."

Ingrid smiled and brushed his cheek with the back of her hand. "You are tired, dear, and I am afraid you are losing your wits from lack of sleep."

"So, because I would like to kiss you all night, I am losing my wits?" He was enjoying this little sparring session with her. "I should think you would want me to kiss you all night," he added.

"Oh, I would enjoy that very much," she agreed, "but do you not think we might get carried away in our passion and not be able to stop?" She dared to suggest something even the littlest bit bawdy, but she did not think he would mind.

"And what would we not be able to stop?" he asked, putting the question back to her.

Ingrid's heart skipped a beat as the she suddenly felt a bit warm. She knew it was not from the summer air for the warmth was concentrated between her thighs and spreading throughout her body.

"You look flushed, my dear. Are you all right?" He sensed what was happening to her for he was having sensations below his waist as well.

"I am fine," she stammered. "I was just thinking of an appropriate answer to your question." She looked away for just an instant before turning back to him. "I believe we might have difficulty stopping from doing what married people do."

"And would you like to do that?"

"When we are married," she answered.

"October is a long time away," he said. "Do you think we will be able to control ourselves?"

Ingrid blushed again. "Yes, I do. I want our first night together as husband and wife to be most special."

Gregor smiled broadly. "I want the same."

The tension eased at that moment as they looked at each other. They were still holding hands and obviously enjoying their time together.

"I want you to know something," he said seriously.

"Yes, Gregor."

"I have never been with a woman before in that way. Do you understand what I mean?"

"I understand. And I have never been with a man."

Gregor sighed. "I think perhaps we may need to teach each other what should happen under the covers of a marital bed."

"I will be a good student," Ingrid said softly.

"I would not doubt that for an instant," he replied.

For the next week, Ingrid and Gregor spent as much time together as possible as he began to prepare for his coronation, plus tackle the duties of being king for his country. His ministers were ever ready to give their opinion and advice whether it was welcome or not. They soon found that Gregor was not a puppet and had a keen mind from everything his father had taught him. He could not be easily swayed if he felt strong about a topic and some of the ministers, who hoped to wield greater power now that Aleksander was no longer alive, were privately disappointed in that regard. Yet they admired him all the more because he was wise for one so young. They shuddered to think what a mess the country would have become should Sergei had lived and ascended the throne.