This scared me. "But," I stammered, forgetting proper manners in light of such a shock, "My Alexander… That's where his home is."

The man chuckled. "So you're as much a fan of Wallachian history as I. Good to meet a fellow enthusiast. My name is Jazen Marc. Did you come to see the old Blaumaro home?"

"Old? But I was there only yesterday helping Belinda and Mama clean. Don't you know who I am?"

The man regarded me for a moment, then replied, "Well, judging by your dress, I'd say an Elizabeth Dracuul fan."

"Fan? Why would I need to cool myself on such a lovely day?"

He chuckled again and shook his head. "Native Wallachian humor. I may never get used to it."

"But it's not a joke," I told him. "I am who you say, but there is no fan."

"Are you trying to tell me that you're Elizabeth?"

Now we were getting somewhere! "Yes."

"So you're a descendant?" Maybe I was wrong.

"No. My name is Elizabeth Anna Marie Delrouse Dracuul. I live here in Wallachia. My father is Vladimir, the raging drunk. My brother is the loon that nearly got us thrown out of town! I am the Princess of the Wallachian throne!" So he didn't get it at first. I would just have to spell it out nice and pretty for him. "And judging by how little you know of my family, you are a professor." None of my brother's teachers had known anything about us. That was actually why they were hired.

The look of shock faded into a grin. "History teacher, actually," he said proudly. "And I wager I know more about the Dracuuls than even you." Challenge accepted.

We debated for about an hour or so, and finally I won with a statement of, "And I am in love with Alexander Blaumaro!" which caused me to shriek and cover my mouth. How could I have said that? I was furious with myself. This just would not do.

"Do you mean to tell me that you're THE Elizabeth?" Finally!

"Yes. Although if it is in fact the year you say it is, you are certain to take me a liar, as I should have been in the ground with my beloved by now."

"Actually," he said after a moment of thought, "I believe you."

"You see?" I said, "You think me a loon like my brother. I…" then I caught on. "You what?"

"I believe you. The hair, the eyes, the dress. It all fits," Jazen told me. "How are you still alive?"

I told him I didn't know. That I had just fallen asleep and had a funny dream and here I was, eight hundred years later, confused and on the verge of tears because I just learned that Alexander had been dead for nearly as long as I was asleep.

Then he informed me that, like myself, Alex had disappeared in the night. No one had seen him since that night when he came with my father from the tavern. I couldn't let myself hope that I would see him again, for fear of crushing defeat later. It would be too much to bear, and I knew it.

So instead of going to the former home of my love, I went with Jazen the History teacher to the new tavern, which he called a "coffee shop".