The country was doing better than it has in a long time. It was richer, bigger, and happier.

The age of military service was lower to fourteen, the same age the king was. Grief was more normalized, especially because almost all of the parents in the country had lost a child. Mixed children were encouraged, especially with foreign women from Europe. There was better pay for nurses, better health care, more opportunities for schools, and better medicine.

The king's friendly demeanor was very well known. He managed to do the impossible; be allies with North and South Korea. Of course, there were countries that didn't like them, such as Costa Rica and Coia, but you can't make everyone happy. They were now nuclear weapons made specifically by the king, for he knew his numbers.

---

On November sixth, a country far away from them called Rda was in desperate need of aid, potentially war aid. Their heir was a young lady, and she came all here with her little sister.

Lloyd and François sat in the throne room, looking neat and powerful. The prince was anxious. He never wanted another war ever again. The country was too weak to fight.

The guard played his flute, both of them standing up. "The heir to Rdian Empire, Princess Ayla and her sister, Princess Arwa."

Two short women stepped in, giving the other royal pair curtsey. The men bowed.

"Princess Ayla and Princess Arwa, pleasure to meet you." The prince spoke first, the king being too shy to start any conversation.

The older one spoke. "The pleasure is ours." The youngest must've been around thirteen, the same age as Marcel, who was also in the room. He came here to finish high school because he kept arguing with his grandparents. According to him, they were treating the devil like a saint. According to them, he was talking bad about their dead child.

"What seems to be the trouble?" Lloyd walked over to the older one with the brown hijab, holding out his arm.

She grabbed it, looking into his eyes. "A country wants to go to war with us, Fruan." He nodded. "And I know that you're very gracious, so I was hoping that you'll be able to talk us out of it."

He looked up. "Yes, that's possible. Tell the nation's leader to come to your country, and I'll discuss with them the best I can."

She walked back to her sister, who was signing to Marcel. "Arwa, stop it." She turned back to the couple. "My apologies, good sirs. She's deaf and she tries to communicate through signs."

The prince, who was satisfied for now, guided his brother in front of him. "My brother happens to be mute. He doesn't like to speak. He also knows signs."

The two younger ones smiled at each other. The princess was very pretty. She had a button nose, green eyes, and dark skin. Behind her green hijab was a white hearing aid.

"Why don't they go out to the garden? I'm sure they'll die from boredom by the time we're finished." Lloyd nodded to one of the two guards, the man stepping down.

"Yes, surely."

The guard led them away from the room. The princess was now more serious.

"If it doesn't work out," the couple turned their heads to her. "May your country give us aid? Military aid?"

François looked over at the king, who looked nervous. He didn't want his people, his friends, back on the battlefield. He couldn't just tell her no, that would create unnecessary tension between their countries.

"Hm." He was slow to answer, but his answer was wise. "You will have me, not my military."

François felt his blood boil. How could someone so smart be so stupid? He barely made it out the first time, and now he wants to go in for a second round? What if they put him on a plane? What if it crashes? What-

"Excuse me, Your Highness, me and the prince must discuss a few things, then we'll go." He felt Lloyd pull him gently into another room.

"Lloyd, honestly!" The other gave him a face to be quieter. It would be the biggest blunder if she heard them. "What are you thinking?! Tell her no!"

"François, I can't! She needs our help!" He tried to hold his hand, but the other pushed it away. "C'mon.."

The redhead stormed to the window, seeing his brother and the other princess looking at the flowers. "Send the army then! You can't go back into war!"

"You're acting like there's one right now. If I can talk right, it'll be nothing. You're being ridiculous." His played with his fingers inside his pocket.

"So I'm the problem?"

"No-"

"-You're too precious to get hurt! You barely made it out last time!" He tapped his trembling fingers on the glass.

Lloyd sighed, touching his beating forehead. "François, darling, I can't send my people out there to potentially fight. I know these people. Some of them held me as a baby! I love my people, and I know they can't afford another war!"

"So you love these people more than me?" He turned to him, tears forming in his eyes.

"Don't do that."

"You love them or me?"

"Stop."

He began to shout. "Do you-"

"YOU!" The princess was awkwardly standing in the other room hearing them. "I LOVE YOU!"

There was crying now from François. Lloyd covered his eyes, rubbing them.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you. That's not right." His voice was small. "Please, François, understand that-"

"Just leave then, do it."

"You're one to talk."

François spun around. He never heard Lloyd's tone be so bitter and so true. He admitted it. He knows what everyone else does. He saw it in his guilty eyes. He always knew, he just finally admitted to it.

Lloyd left him in the room, wiping his eyes when his back was to the princess.

"....Is everything alright, your majesty?" Her voice was high.

He turned to her, smiling quickly. "Yes, yes. Just things." He heard shuffling. "I'll be with you soon, I just need to get my things ready. Please, make yourself at home for the time being. It won't be long."

She bowed to him, grateful to be getting away from the tension and to get help. She left with the guard to the garden.

François opened the door when she was far enough. He saw Lloyd with his hand down sitting on the throne, a lit cigarette in his mouth.

"...I'm sorry for saying that." He couldn't even look at François, he knew he fucked up.

"It's okay." He sat next to him, yearning to touch his hand yet not daring to. "I'm sorry for starting the argument, I know this is important."

Lloyd sighed and looked to his side. His husband couldn't recognize him. His eyes were tired and baggy, his cheeks were hollow, his body was narrow, his hair was a range of colors, his eyes were a weird shade of brown trying to override purple.

He wanted him back. He wanted the white hair and purple eyes back. He wanted his healthy and happy husband back. He wanted everything back.

"Have you considered giving up the thro...." His voice trailed off when he saw Lloyd looking at him like he had five heads.

"No. It hasn't even been a year yet." He lit up another one, it felt so good.

"It's killing you." The tears started again. Unlike the first time, he was comforted and given a handkerchief. "It's making you sick again."

He embraced the taller, feeling his eye twitch from stress and his head marching to a beat. "I care about your opinions, really I do, but I don't agree with them. I fought for this country, I died for it and I'll do it again in a heartbeat." His partner started to cry more. "But listen, I could talk them out of war. There's nothing to worry about."

He sniffled. "Please do. Oh, please be safe there. Bring your medicine, clothes, anything."

"I will, I promise." He kissed his head, his eyes burning. "Please, no more tears. I have to go and I'll never forgive myself if I leave you sad."

Wiping his tears with the handkerchief, François held Lloyd's arm as they walked to the carriage. Before they went outside, he kissed Annie goodbye and begged her, almost jokingly, to not die until he gets back. They met up with the happy trio in the garden next to the carriage.

"Hey Lloyd," Marcel signed as the younger princess blushed at him. "I wanna come too!"

François busted into tears, hiding his face. Ayla already didn't like him, he was too dramatic and emotional. Lloyd patted his hand.

"But Mar, wouldn't you want to stay with Franz? He'll get lonely." He honestly wanted him to go, he needed a friend.

"I want to be with Arwa, to get to know her a little more." She held his arm and he melted. Nobody could deny that it was sweet.

François looked up at his brother. "I think you should go. That way, Lloyd would have to come back to bring you here if there was-" He couldn't even finish the sentence.

"Yes." He rubbed his back as he smiled at the guard. "Get his things ready, please."

----

Around eight, they were going to take off for a twenty-one hour voyage across the world in a different country. Beom would make major decisions while he's away, François wasn't in the right space to do it.

The four travelers, François, and Marie were at the docks. The redhead was still crying, much to the princess' dismay.

"Goodbye, Franny." He kissed his cheek, rubbing his back.

Too upset to speak back, the taller stayed quiet as Lloyd kissed his mother's face then said goodbye to the dogs. Apple was most upset, she always went everywhere with him. She doesn't understand why it was so dangerous. She whined and kept jumping on him. She tried to pull Marie to reach her owner as he was leaving. She cried as the ship was leaving, and so did her other owner.

"Cheers." Ayla poured him water. It was surprising, considering the fact that a princess shouldn't start the toast. "To our new alliance."

Feeling exhausted from today's drama and saddened by the tears, he simply said,  "Cheers." Then went straight to bed. Tomorrow, there was much to do. 

"Look over there." Marcel signed before pointing up to all the stars. They were sitting on the deck.

Arwa smiled and saw all the pretty stars in the sky. "They look so pretty. Allah has painted the sky for us tonight."

"Who's that?"

She told him about the Muslim religion. Marcel didn't know what most of it meant. In one synagogue he went to when he was small, the rabbi said something about muslims that his grandparents hated so much that they left before the service finished.

"I know that my grandparents' home country is hurting you guys, right?"

"Yeah, we don't recognize that country." She saw the ashamed look on Marcel's face. "I'm sorry, but it's true."

"I feel you on that. I feel ashamed to be Jewish now."

"Not all of you are like that. Your family and the king are pretty nice." She allowed him to touch her long dress. He liked the feel of the fabric.

He looked at her, blushed, and then looked away. "Yeah."

----

When they arrived in the country, Lloyd, who was surprisingly feeling well, noticed the differences immediately. It was more of a fun and lively culture compared to the quiet and seriousness of his own. Clothes were long and bright, though the cars and sidewalks looked poorer. People wearing white clothes were praying in a language he didn't understand. They looked brave, but it was easy to see the fear in their eyes.

The man who was threatening war was waiting in the tent for him. He had no idea what to expect. Was he tall? Short? Fat? Skinny? He was going to find out. He walked in, his hands shaking and sweaty.

The man was dark, with average height and weight, and was an old man with a long white beard. He stood up and bowed, Lloyd did so as well. He seemed to melt when he saw his face.

"Please," his voice was raspy. "Sit down, have a cigar."

He sat down. "Pleasure to meet you, sir."

"Call me Edward." That was surprising, first names?

The younger was very anxious, tapping his foot under the table. "Sir Edward, why would you want to start a war with these great people? War is very costly in pocket and soul."

"I happen to know, I fought in War World Two, your majesty." Edward showed off his metals. "And I know that you fought in the Vagian war."

He looked down, stunned. "Uh, yes. Thank you for your service."

"And thank you for yours." He exhaled. "But yes, this country has disrespected us. The people in mine are deeply offended, and so is their president, I'm their Secretary of War, and she's given me the duty to start or call off the threat."

"May I ask why?"

"Well," he rolled out a paper. The other saw the problem immediately. "their country has sent a threat to ours, a nuke threat at that."

He tried not to grin. "Sir, I'm afraid you're mistaken. This is not from their country." He pulled out the Coian papers. "This is from Coia. Even the label is the same."

The old man looked at both for a while. Lloyd was even more nervous. This had to work.

Suddenly, Edward sighed and shook his head. "To think about the chaos this could've brought." Lloyd's eyes got wide. "The war is called off."

It felt like Hanukkah. He shook his hand and thanked him at least a million times. They both stepped out, the people and the royal family nervous as can be.

"No war!"

---

Ship by Moonlight
Ivan Aivazovsky