It's been so busy that the rest of May passed without them noticing until two days later. There were so many changes already made. Now, there was colored TV, heaters in homeless shelter, and abortion clinics, just to name a few.

The castle was becoming more familiar. At night, if time allowed, the couple would play in the pool with their dogs. The rooms weren't as hard to find anymore. His parents moved in a house next to the castle. Ho stayed with Sarah back in Canada. Annie stayed in the palace, which Lloyd didn't mind at all. He was glad to have her there. There was a garden in one of the backyards. Vines of white chrysanthemums grew on the side of the gray brick wall that led up to the bedroom. In the front, for all visitors to see, there were red rose bushes and a birdhouse. The dogs usually ran around there, happy to have all that space and bark at the passersbys.

Just a few days after the coronation, they've been informed that Hunter managed to escape from jail. He was on the run. He dyed his hair, wore contacts, and apparently was hiding somewhere in Vagu. Beom and Valentino wanted to find him, but Lloyd decided not to. He couldn't possibly be hurt now, there was better things to do with tax dollars anyway.

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François let the maid fix up his hair. He loved it here. He could have shiny jewelry and nice clothes, and Lloyd would give him anything he wanted. It was busy, yes, but very interesting. They purchased land from the US, and it was his job for the time being to get citizens there and blend them in with the population already there. He was also going with his husband to the islands they owned. More countries to explore, sweet.

He got up and had help getting dressed. There were things on his mind. Hunter got out. Sneaky bitch. How did he even do that? And Lloyd could give two shits about it. It's unlikely, but what if he tries something? His mother, for some reason, was also in his thoughts. He didn't know why. Maybe he was upset she wasn't there? Could be. He didn't care to know why, he just wanted her gone and out of his mind.

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It was two in the morning. Lloyd woke up because he got too hot and sweaty in the blanket and had to kick it off. He heard crying. He looked over and saw François facing the wall. He peaked and saw him wiping his face with his hand.

"Hey." He whispered in a sweet voice. "Are you ok? Did you get sweaty too?"

"No." He turned to face him. Lloyd hated seeing him so sad. His blue eyes glowed. "I had a dream about my mom."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." He hugged him, rubbing his back as he felt tears getting his shirt wet.

"She was being nice, that's what got to me. She was saying she's sorry for what she did and that she loves me and Marcel."

He stroked his hair, the curls feeling soft. "I know that's really hard to hear, especially after what she did." He wanted a smoke, but felt too tired to reach for his lighter. "It's good to remember that she can't bother you or him ever again, and even though she said all that nice stuff, you have to remember how she really was."

That made François cry more. Lloyd felt guilty, he thought that would help. "Why didn't she love me? What did I do that was so terrible? Why didn't she love Marcel?"

"I can't really speak for her, but I can say one thing. You and Marcel didn't do anything wrong. All mothers should love their children, but not all mothers are meant for love. All children are, though. It's not your fault she were cruel."

He sniffled, his head hurting. "Maybe if I stayed a girl...she would've been nice..."

"Hey, no. You can't be something you never were. And to be honest, even if you did pretend, she would still a bitch. Bitches are bitches, regardless of whatever you do." He heard a quiet tapping at the window. He looked over and saw a chrysanthemum knocking on the glass.

"Is there something wrong with me?"

He played with his hair, forgetting for a second that it was short again. "Can't be. If the rest of your family loves you, your friends love you, an entire country loves you, and of course, if someone white hair loves you, you probably don't know who he is-" that made François smile slightly. "-but if all those people really love you, then maybe you aren't the problem."

Only sniffling now, he asked, "Will you always love me?"

"Of course! We're married." He held François' hand up, his ring shining. "I didn't give you this for nothing."

The other looked up at him. "That's true. I feel tired."

"We should go back to bed, we have to work tomorrow."

Still hugging him, Lloyd laid down again. He felt François moving around. It made him smile, he didn't know why that always makes his stomach feel warm.

He yawned. "Can you sing for me? I really love your voice."

"Yeah." He yawned as well before singing Let It Be. The other fell asleep as he got to the second chorus. He didn't have another dream for the rest of the night.

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Lloyd woke up first because he got a call. He put his head in his hand after she asked him to break it to François and for them to call her afterward. He hung up after giving his condolences and stood by the door. He debated about what to say before walking in.

He gently shook François awake, who instantly wanted his morning hug. He gave it to him, silent.

"What's wrong? You're quiet." He said, rubbing the crust of his eye.

Lloyd, still in his pajamas, slowly sat down on the edge of the head of the bed. His husband sat up, his back against the wall. He could feel the dread in the air. There was no smiling, no joking around. His husband took his hands and kissed them before looking into his eyes. He could see it in his glance, something terrible had happened.

"My darling boy, your mother died. I'm so sorry, my François."

The world stopped. He tried not to cry, he couldn't waste his tears on her. He couldn't grieve, but he broke. He started to sob, getting pulled into a tight and still silent hug. All the wasted opportunities to try to make amends. All the years he wasted to call her, at least to see if she was alright. All the times he wished her dead when he was angry with her spun around his head.

He sobbed for a solid ten minutes before calling his hysterical grandmother, Lloyd rubbing his fingers for support. No parent should bury a child, no matter how old they are. It was a drug overdose, the heroin stopped her heart. She was dead for a week before someone found her behind a trashcan, the needle still in her arm. He had to hung up as he thought about her behind the trash. It gets hot in France. The thought of her rotting in the sun was too much to bare.

"My sweetheart," Lloyd spoke to him in the softest tone he could make as he kneed on the floor to see his face, stroking his wet cheek. "you have to say goodbye. You need to be your family. I'll be alright here, please go to them."

He sobbed and spoke on the phone as the guards packed his bags and got the plane ready to take him to France. Lloyd slipped thirty letters, money, anything he might need or want when he was away in the thick suitcases.

Before he boarded the plane, him and Lloyd kissed and embraced. Something about it felt uncomplete. It felt different, but everything felt different right now.

"I'll see you again soon, my love. Please be easy with yourself. I love you."

"T-thank you..."

Lloyd stood by as the plane took off. Something felt foreboding. Something in his heart felt light yet heavy at the same time. He stared at the clouds, feeling this weird type of sadness yet strength. He walked back into his castle as a half-dead chrysanthemum fell to his feet. He brought it inside with him. The gates closed as he felt a lump in his throat.

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Eugène Carrière -???