The butler with the ram's horns, Galiban, leads us through a thickly built gatehouse where we pass under honest-to-god murder holes and into a courtyard enclosed by the castle's curtain wall. Contrary to my expectations, the stone appears new, freshly cut, with no signs of weathering, and looks oddly out of place in the otherwise barren landscape. Who would take the trouble to build a castle here? I notice an immediate temperature shift as soon as we enter the main keep.

  "Reka, do you have air conditioning?" I ask. Out of my peripheral vision, I notice a cluster of maids following us at a discreet distance, looking at one another worriedly. Was it something I said?

  My girlfriend lifts her arm in a casual gesture. "My lord husband has leave to speak to me informally," she says, and the maids nod before going back to following us.

  Lord husband?

  "Reka, I-"

  She cuts me off. "I'm afraid I had to rush things, my love. The great conjunction would not wait. If you wish, we can have a proper wedding ceremony later."

  Right. Reka considers bringing me to her world as good as getting married. Reasonable enough, I decide. "Sounds good." I just roll with it. She takes my hand, provoking a round of tittering from the maids. I ignore them and take another look around. "So this is really our castle?"

  "Just so, dearest. We are Lord and Lady Regis, and Malmark is our home."

  Just like that, huh? Wait...

  "Regis? What about your family?"

  Reka looks at me quizzically. "You are my family, Brad. I have no need of others."

  "What my lady means," Galiban interjects, "is that Malmark is a new and independent realm, with no ties to any other kingdom. Declaring a new house allows for a clean break, as it were, my lord."

  Reka claps her hands happily. "Faithful Galiban is wise. We have nothing whatsoever to do with any power that previously held sway in these lands. Besides, is it not the fashion of your culture for the woman to join the man's house?"

  "Usually," I admit. Okay then, this sounds great actually. I was somewhat worried we'd get caught up in some kind of Game of Thrones-esque intrigue with us being sworn to another lord or king. Being independent greatly simplifies matters. A whole new world! I can't wait to take a look at a map.

  Sconces burning with blue flames line the smooth stone walls, illuminating our path. No fuel source is apparent. I was about to ask where we're going when Reka speaks up.

  "Prepare a bath, and lay out evening wear for both of us," she instructs the maids in our shadow. Strange, I'd almost forgotten they were there. The servants hastily rush to obey her orders, disappearing in a flutter of skirts.

  I want to laugh out loud. So much of my girlfriend's behavior makes sense now. Reka has probably never heard the word "no" once in her entire life, spoiled rich girl that she is, not that I'd ever refuse her anything.

  "And I?" Galiban inclines his head respectfully.

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  "A feast, I should think, oh, and no innovations tonight: roast beef, fresh bread, stewed vegetables in the old style, the usual fare. I would not have the kitchens attempt to replicate the dishes from my husband's land until I have time to instruct them and ensure quality."

  Galiban stands at rigid attention, absorbing all my girlfriend, er, wife's commands, and departs rapidly to see them carried out. One by one, the sconces on the wall wink out as he walks past, leaving the passage in darkness.

  "Ah, old Galiban is just as reliable as ever," she says fondly to his retreating form. "Come along, dear, we'll wash off the dust of the road, and I'll see you properly attired. That 'hoodie', while comfortable, is not exactly fitting for your new station in life."

  Just as soon as we're alone, Reka shrugs out of the white lab coat she's still wearing and continues to drag me along by the hand. The dim corridor does not seem to affect her at all.

  As for me, I'm damn near blind. "I could get lost in here," I mutter, the enormity of the situation finally hitting me. A new world. A castle. Insanity.

  "Worry not, my love, our chambers are right this way." We climb a long winding staircase to the top of a tower, and Reka throws open a set of double doors, revealing the most luxurious bedroom I've ever seen. Candles set in golden flambeaux fill the chamber with warm light, though the sun is only just setting.

  We've been sleeping in the same bed every night for the better part of two years, so I know what I'm talking about. That monster against the wall is bigger than a California King. The duvet cover is purple, with a silver starlight pattern stitched into it. Fascinated, I run my hand over the fabric and find it soft and cool to the touch. There are four carved bedposts made out of a dark wood I don't recognize, handcarved mind you, each topped with the head of a different animal. I identify a boar, an eagle, a bull, and something vaguely reptilian. Could it be a dragon?

  Off to the side, there is a writing desk with an inkpot and quills. One wall is dominated by a huge shelf of books stacked high, and there is a window with real glass on the opposite end of the room. Unsure about quite how a medieval latch works, I leave it alone and just take in the view. Since the castle is on a hill, I can see very far off. The cornfield with the peasants looks so small, and I can vaguely make out a gentle stream flowing on the other side of it with a quaint little village beyond.

  "Our tenants," Reka says suddenly, making me nearly jump out of my boots. I didn't hear her sidle up to me while I was looking.

  "Not subjects? I thought this was a sovereign nation."

  "Nothing so formal, dear. Malmark is on the outskirts. It's why I had my servants build here. Those people down there were fleeing persecution in the southern kingdoms. Little enough news reaches us from those parts, most of it bad. They sleep securely in the shadow of my walls, and in return, they pay rent to live and work in my lands."

  A thousand questions immediately come to mind. Why are they fleeing persecution? Is it ethnic? Religious? Could it be racial, like fantasy racism? What's the political situation? I want to know more! Instead, I settle for something a little more concrete to bring up first. "This castle looks new," I say.

  Reka smiles indulgently at my comment. "Sharp eye, my love. Sending people through the portal was beyond me until the great conjunction, but I've been able to send messages. I instructed those who still served me to build a stronghold on the wild frontier, far from any troublesome eyes."

  "And the corn?" I ask. It wasn't "corn" in the broad sense, which could include wheat or barley. No, those farmers were harvesting maize, American yellow corn. Hardly fitting for a medieval setting, right?

  She puts a hand on the small of my back and leads me away from the window. "Indeed. You remember that big project I was so busy with before Christmas last year? My goal was to transmit small amounts of non-sentient organic material. As you can see, I succeeded. We've got cocoa beans, sugar beets, and, of course, potatoes, among others. You know how fond I am of potatoes. There is no familiar taste from Earth that will be denied us here."

  "Probably worth a lot of money, too," I point out.

  Reka pauses for a beat. "...I hadn't considered that. Well, coin won't be a problem for us in any case."

  She mutters a word I don't quite catch and runs her hands over me. The sensation is akin to static electricity without the shock, leaving behind a pleasant tingle in the wake of her touch. It only takes me a second to realize what she's doing. I feel positively exfoliated.

  "Cleaning spell?"

  "Yes, now strip. Just a quick soak in the bath, then we'll have a proper meal in the great hall."