His Majesty’s Puppy – A Story Read by the Author
Enjoy 'His Majesty’s Puppy,' a lighthearted and humorous story read by the author. This charming tale is a prequel to the Lina MacGregor Mysteries—full of wit, surprises, and a touch of mystery. Sit back, relax, and let the story unfold! Want to follow along? The full story text is in the description below!
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His Majesty’s Puppy
Autumn, 1996. Volgograd, Russia.
The door to our faculty office swung open, and in floated a massive bouquet of exotic flowers. From underneath it, a pair of legs in blue jeans and black sneakers stuck out.
Our secretary, Verochka, gasped, while the rest of us froze like characters in a Gogol play. And who could blame us? Orchids were something I had only seen twice in my life, bouquets typically didn’t have legs, and there was no flower delivery service in our city.
My friend, Professor Alla Strelkova, was just as petrified as the rest of us.
The bouquet drifted over to her desk and gently landed on it. From behind the flowers emerged the round face of our student, Anton.
“This is for you. I was asked to deliver it.”
“Thank you,” Alla said automatically.
Anton vanished as swiftly as a magician’s assistant.
That’s when I lost it. Questions started pouring out of me like snow off a Christmas tree:
“Where did it come from? What kind of flowers are these? And why on earth would someone give you such a grand gift? You don’t even accept flowers from students!”
Our colleagues were still in shock.
Alla muttered, “His Majesty’s Puppy.”
Before I could figure out what she meant, the doorway darkened as a grinning black face peeked in.
We nearly fainted.
If a bear had walked into the university, we would have been less surprised. Foreigners in Volgograd were a rare sight.
The towering African man squeezed his way inside, greeted us in Russian, scanned the room, and made a beeline for Alla. When he reached her desk, he dropped to one knee and, in a monstrous accent, rumbled:
“Oh fair maiden, do not refuse this noble young man…”
And here I thought only Zueva, the beloved fairytale storyteller from kids' TV, could spin a tale like that!" I mused to myself.
Alla’s eyes, magnified behind her expensive glasses, widened to the size of Soviet five-kopeck coins.
“Jonik,” she gently interrupted his declaration, “I’m married. Get up, let’s go have some coffee. How did you even end up here?”
The giant looked on the verge of tears but reluctantly got up from the cracked linoleum floor.
“I come from my kingdom. I learn Russian. I look for my shining star… but too late.”
Alla took his arm and led him into the hallway.
We stood there, mouths agape, watching them leave.
***
When she returned, we swarmed her with questions. Strelkova, sensing there was no escape, finally satisfied our curiosity.
“Remember how I taught in Africa for two years? Jonik was my student. He’s the son of a local king.”
“And why ‘His Majesty’s Puppy’?” I asked, quoting her earlier words. “Does he have a dog?”
Alla burst out laughing.
“When we first met, Jonik’s Russian was still pretty rough. He meant to say ‘His Majesty’s son’—as in, a prince. But instead, he said ‘puppy.’”
“He fell in love with me and came all this way to propose. I barely managed to calm him down.”
“Poor guy,” Verochka sighed sympathetically.
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