"My jewels are not fake!" Julien's voice had reached an indignant screech. His expression screamed offended. He prided in his luxurious appearance too much to let a commoner tell him his expensive jewelry was nothing but a fraud.

"Oh face it, Ringtail. The so called king of the lemurs is a fake. Fake, fake, fake, just like your fake diamond ring." Skipper on the other hand was having too much fun. If anyone asked, he'd blame it on the boredom, which had set in shortly after half an hour passing with no sign of this Clover girl.

"IT'S NOT!"

In pure outrage, Julien lunged at the commander. Skipper took a step back in surprise and ended up flat against the wall of the shop they were waiting at.

Julian was pressed against him, big pouty eyes staring into his, hands placed on either side of the leaders head. His breath smelled sweetly of watermelon and orange. From this distance, Skipper could see golden brown freckles dusting his cheeks adorable – something in his gut twisted.

"…"

"…ge'off." Skipper shoved the self proclaimed king away roughly, not daring to look at anyone as he straightened his shirt with a huff.

Julien had gone strangely quiet, fingering his fake sapphire necklace absentmindedly. Then someone cleared their throat loudly.

"Your majesty," Came a female voice, loud, but unsure.

A woman dressed in white stood leaning against a shiny black limousine. Her hair was a flaming red, eyes as green as emeralds. Her cheeks were covered in dark freckles and despite her concern; her features were sharp and professional. She reminded Skipper of someone – Clemson, ironically.

Julian muttered a, "You're late, silly woman," and climbed into the car without so much as a glance in Skipper's direction.

Those deep green eyes landed on him and her expression darkened slightly with distrust. She didn't say anything to him though and only gave him a curt nod as she held the door open. Skipper climbed in reluctantly.

No one talked much over the ride.

There wasn't much to talk about anyway, but plenty to marvel at.

Skipper and Mort alike stared out the window with wide awe filled eyes. Clover and Maurice caught up in the front seats, and Julien was busy polishing his jewelry.

The view from the airport to the grand hotel – was nothing short of colorful people, bright exotic sights stunning for those who spend most of their life in dreary, modern Manhattan.

Despite his muted excitement matching that of Mort's, Skipper was all too aware o the sneaking, furrowed glances Clover kept sending his way.

Her lips were pursed in a disapproving frown and muttered something to Maurice, who seemed not as concerned as she was. He responded in a light hearted tone, too quiet for Skipper to hear.

The leader played dumb and pretended not to notice.

When they arrived at the hotel a while later, Skipper was starting to become uncomfortable.

He couldn't say he had never been warned.

Julien behaved and talked like a spoiled child, and though he wore expensive clothes and possessed two servants, the idea that this loud, quirky kid was royalty, was a king, was nearly ridiculous.

But here they were, standing in front of a literal palace.

Servants came to pick up their luggage, natives stared and their car was wheeled away towards an elegant gas station's car washer.

Not to mention the resort itself. A gigantic pool, towering palm trees, proud pillars supporting the hotel that all but glowed with its value.

And he was pretending to be Julien's husband. He wasn't nearly-

No.

'No, Skipper,' he told himself firmly. 'It doesn't matter how much money you have or how wealthy you are. What matters is your character. And if you're brave – or a coward. And you're definitely the former.

"Julian!" My lovely nephew!" Everyone looked up from their activities to greet a chubby, middle aged man trotting over to the group standing by the car.

There he was, former King Julian, his grin wide and cheerful. His eyes, however, were cold as ice.

Skipper stood up straighter at the sight of him, his own expression hardening. Every bone in his body screamed fiend. There was something wrong with him. He didn't know what, but Skipper's gut never lied.

"Uncle!" Julian cried out and dropped his coat to embrace the older man. He apparently didn't have a problem with him to no surprise.

He's as dumb like a bag of nails, Skipper thought.

Clover stood dutifully next to Maurice both packed with luggage. Maurice insisted on carrying Skippers because that's how things apparently went here. The older man didn't look the slightest bit pleased to see Julien's uncle either but smiled and laughed all the same when said former king pulled him into a hug

Skipper felt a tad relieved. So he wasn't the only one who thought Julien's older lookalike was planning something nasty. Good to know.

"And who do we have here?"

…

Speak of the devil…

Julien's uncle turned to Skipper and his smile widened.