He loves her.

It's not like she couldn't feel it already. She had known. But having him said it meant a lot. She had always dreamed it, prayed for it, wished for it to happen. But when the moment finally came to fruition, it felt surreal.

She was so stupid! She should have responded to him. Tell him she loved him too. What if he thought that she didn't love him? No, he must have known. And when he returned, she'd tell him a thousand times.

Now, she just wanted to sing aloud; scream for the entire Angletonian empire to hear.

It was unfair to be trapped in this huge, pink bubble of happiness and unable to express it. There was nobody close enough for her to disclose the details of her marriage. She had always confided in her handmaidens, but ever since they've shown a repugnant reaction to her husband's health, she had ceased to tell them private details.

The closest thing she had would be Junior... She turned to face the boy, still fast asleep, unaware of the events occurring in the last five hours. But it wouldn't be the right time now, would it? Not when he just had his father left so hastily.

The clock rang, marking the break of a new day, awakening Gigi from her reverie. She had just spent the night staying up till past three, blinking wide beside Junior in bed with her cheeks flushed pink.

But how could she fall asleep after his confession? How would she manage to do anything at all today?

With her lack of sleep, she would look like the walking dead in the morning. Shifting closer to Junior, she forced her eyes closed, the image of Cal pronouncing his love to her replayed through her mind.

Three hours later, she was awakened by the sound of a maid setting up a tray full of biscuits, milk and a teapot on the nightstand. She curtsied to her as she sat up, before retreating from the room.

"Oh please, do not leave yet. Do tell my brother's sitter that she ought to dress and prepare him for breakfast without me. And fetch me my handmaids, will you?"

She gave her a deep bow, before turning around on her heels and leaving.

Hearing voices from around him, Junior stirred. As his eyelids fluttered open Gigi put on a bright smile for him. "Gigi...?" He raised his sleepy head, turning to look around him. "...Where's Papa?"

Gigi ran her fingers through Junior's dishevelled hair, fluffing up his bangs. "He left for the North last night, Junior, with your Oncle Philippe. He did tell you his goodbyes, but I think you were too sleepy to hear him."

Junior blinked, a small frown crossed his face. "I think I may have heard him. When is he coming back?"

"In a week or so. He promised that it wouldn't be more than a week. You wouldn't mind being here with me, would you?" Gigi reached out for his hand, rubbing it warmly.

Junior gave her a light smile. "No, of course not."

"Oncle Philippe gave me his telephone number. He said you could make a telephone call to his home in Archambault if you miss your father too much. They will be at the estate the day after tomorrow."

Gigi thought it would be hard for her now that she had to keep an eye on both Junior and her brother, but the boys stayed silent throughout the day, not attempting to even tease one another even though they were sharing a close space.

It turned out it was harder to deal with their social circle, as she had to come up with a good explanation for her husband's absence. Fortunately, Cal had people from Mireille and Venanzio aid him to fabricate an alibi that he was invited to a diplomatic meeting abroad in the continent. It was a good excuse, and it served to fend off all the prying noses.

"Papa should be back before Thursday," Junior said that night, before going to bed.

"Oh, did you receive a word from him?" Gigi asked as she adjusted his pillows for comfort.

"No. He told me yesterday that he was going to take me on a ride with Inferno next Thursday, so he should be back by then."

"I believe he will." Gigi smiled in support.

The next afternoon, Junior timidly approached her. "Gigi, I wish to telephone Papa."

"Of course," she replied. They went to find the butler, asking him to connect them to Philippe's telephone number. Junior waited with anticipation.

"Good afternoon, this is the imperial palace. Might I be directed to His Majesty? His son Prince Cal wishes to speak with him. ...Yes, of course, we could wait." The elderly man paused, listening to the voice on the other line. "Good afternoon, Your Grace. His Highness—"

Junior grabbed the phone out of the butler's hand. "Papa! Papa, where were you? When are you coming ho—" He paused, the air in his face shifted. "...Oncle Pierre. Is Papa there? I wish to speak with him... Oh. When is he arriving?" Junior handed the phone back to the butler, a disheartened look on his face.

"...Junior? What happened?"

"Papa is not..." Junior swallowed a lump on his throat. "He has not arrived there yet. Oncle said that we would have to wait for at least a few more hours if we want him to be there when we call."

Gigi felt her throat tighten. She had not heard from her husband in two days, and not knowing his exact whereabouts at the moment made her a little uneasy. He would safely arrive at Archambault estate later, wouldn't he? She tried to shake away the unsettling thoughts as she noticed Junior leaving.

"Junior, where are you going?"

"Reading," He answered sadly, running off.

That night, Gigi was awakened by Gita Dian in her room at twelve-thirty. "My apologies for having to disturb your sleep, Your Majesty, but there's a telephone call for you. From the Emperor."

Getting out of bed, Gigi glanced at Junior where he was still sleeping soundly. She considered for a moment before throwing a robe over herself and rushing to the sitting room. Her hand twitched as she picked up the phone. "Sire?"

"Hello, Gi. I'm sorry to have awakened you, I was told you were sleeping." His voice was velvety and warm, bringing relieved tears to her eyes. It was as if she hadn't heard from him in two years. Her husband was alright, he was right there, talking to her now. "How did your day go? How's Junior? Is he well behaved?"

It took Gigi a half minute to rearrange her thoughts and feelings before she could answer him properly. "Junior is well, Sire. So am I. But I cannot lie, he's so sad. Did you know that he telephoned you this afternoon?" Then something occurred to her. "Sire, what are you doing out so late at night? You're supposed to be in bed, too."

"I was still at the site today; we arrived at Archambault just an hour ago. Now I am going to bed. Figured I'd telephone you before then."

"You shouldn't stay up late Sire. Especially with what you're... what you're doing. You must get plenty of rest, and don't forget your meals, too. You—you are doing fine, aren't you? You are not hurt?"

"I am doing alright, Gi and I will. Don't you worry about me."

"How could you— how could I not worry?!" She protested.

She could hear him chuckle at the end of the line. "Gi... I know it has only been two days, but I've missed you too. I miss you both."

Gigi felt her heart ache with longing. Was it possible to be jaunty and melancholy at the same time? "I... We miss you too, Sire."

There was a pause on the other line, where she could hear the sound of his breathing. Maybe, this was her chance to confess.

"Sire... I want to tell you. I..."

"—Yes?"

"I..." Her lip trembled as she came to a halt. Maybe, it was something better not said in a telephone call. She wanted to do it while looking straight into his eyes, so he could see the truth in hers, burning bright inside her soul. "I... I will wait for you to come back, Sire. So, hurry home."

"Of course, of course," Cal echoed, understanding what she was about to say.

"Alright, it's late. I don't want to keep you from resting. Go to sleep, Sire."

"I will... I wish I could dream about you, Gi." He let out a sigh, and she could almost hear him smile. "Sleep tight, Darling. Send my love to Junior."

"Good night, my dear husband." And with that, she went back to bed with a broad smile on her face.

Gigi informed Junior about the phone the next day at breakfast. "Your father telephoned us last night, Junior. He said he misses you and sent his love for you."

Junior's eyes lit up. "When? Why didn't you wake me up?"

"It was past midnight, I don't think it's right to—"

"You should have woke me up!" He snapped, startling Gigi. Junior had never raised his voice at her before.

"Alright. Junior, I am sorry. How can I make up for it?"

That night, Junior stayed up until past twelve. It was on his own request that to make up for the telephone call he had missed yesterday, Gigi would allow her to stay awake until around the time his father presumed to be present in Archambault estate. Gigi didn't feel too good about it but she agreed out of understanding at how badly he had missed his father.

Junior had never been away from Cal for as long as he could remember, so three days not hearing from him might feel like torture.

Maybe she would feel the same if she had not spoken to him on the telephone last night.

"You said it was around this time when he telephoned you, right?" he said when she ordered the butler to make another call to Philippe's residence. "He should be there now."

But his father wasn't there, and Junior was left with a message saying that he would call them back later when he arrived. If he arrived.

Junior waited until three, blinking his dark eyes in distress, struggling to keep them open. Twenty minutes later when he succumbed to exhaustion, Gigi didn't have the heart to remove him from curling up in her lap.

The next day passed without another telephone call. Junior had stopped asking her, but she could sense his anguish. His shoulders slumped and his head hung low. He didn't even touch his favourite books, spending the day gazing out of the window or at the telephone post in the sitting room. That night, she could faintly hear him crying himself to sleep.

"He will come home tonight," Junior told her Wednesday night. "He said we would be riding together tomorrow. He promised."

Gigi didn't deny him, although part of her knowing that it would not come true.

However, it didn't keep Junior from going out on a ride as scheduled. Gigi came out to see him in the stables, finding him already saddled up on top of Inferno.

"But he promised that he'd ride with me this Thursday!" He spat, pacing Inferno in the riding pen.

"Junior, I believe it breaks your father's heart to miss it too. He is doing his best at the moment." Gigi explained as she kept up with them at Inferno's side.

"No, he's not! He lied to me! It had never been this way before! The old Papa would never have missed a day with me! We used to be best friends! Whenever he had to go, we would go together! Now he doesn't anymore! ...I know why! It's because... Ever since—ever since..." The boy lost his words, his eyes darted around as if looking for an alternative to the answer his brain had presented.

Gigi stopped, her features hardened as she paused to stare at him. "Ever since when, Junior?"

Ever since she came into their life, Gigi answered inwardly. That was when Cal had started to leave Junior alone, didn't he? Ever since he had entrusted his son under her care?

Before Junior dared to answer, Gita Dewi suddenly appeared at her side. "Your Majesty! Your Majesty, it's dire news! Seol-il... has been hit by a landslide..." She clenched her chest in a vain attempt to catch her breath, before handing Gigi today's newspaper. "The northern Angletonian border is rumoured to be affected by it too..."

Gigi's eyes scanned over the newspaper, the bolded headline glaring at her as the realization dawned on her.

So, it has started...?

"I got it... from the mailman... I thought... I should be telling you first," explained her poor handmaiden.

"Is that it?" she asked, the newspaper hung in her hand.

Gita Dewi stared at her agape. "....I-I beg your pardon?"

"Your Majesty!" The butler rushed to join her with a tray, prompting her to forget the little squabble she had with Junior and turn to him. "A private message for you from Archambault."

Gigi took a sealed envelope off the tray. The letter wasn't signed with an official stamp, to serve as a precaution in case it had fallen into the wrong hands. But it was indeed Cal's handwriting, judging by the familiar cursives and how the words were slanted to the right.

My Love,

I know that the news would reach home sooner than I do, so I sent this letter along with my private messenger. I still have to stay the night at Oncle's, but when you receive this you shall know that I have succeeded and am heading home.

— C.

A huge wave of relief washed through Gigi's chest. He did it! He executed his plan, and he was coming home!

Junior would be thrilled!

"Junior! Your father is on his way home!" She looked behind her, expecting to find her stepson waiting and cheering with joy as she broke the news to him.

But the ground behind her was empty, and when they looked around the pen she saw that the gate was open and that Junior scowled out in the open field.

Who opened that gate?

"Junior...?" She called out to him, attempting to go after him but the boy turned around and galloped off.

"Junior!"

.·。.·゜·༺♥༻ ·゜·。.

See? Told you he's not gonna die 🤣

And Junior still escapes in the end 😂 but I assure you the consequences would be 100% different from the previous version.

What do you think about the Angletonians' reaction to the Seol-il disaster? I like how they knew there was a catastrophe happening right in the neighbouring country, and the first thing they ask is "Are we gonna suffer from this?" 🤣🤣🤣