Kristof laid down the letter he just read. It came from his good friend Tristan. He and Timo were on another journey again.

Kristof smiled. He was happy that Tristan had found his soulmate as he had.

He looked outside the window and saw his husband painting. Armin would have an art exposition in a few weeks. Kristof was very proud of him. Now, everyone thought Armin was a great painter, but, of course, Kristof had known this all along.

Armin looked up at the window and smiled as they waved at each other.

"Uncwe, couwd you tell me the shtwory again?!" came a little voice, asking for Kristof's attention.

Kristof looked to his right, his eyes meeting the three-year-old boy. Rock was the toddler's name. He had the same eyes as his mother. One was green while the other was brown.

"Oh, don't bother your uncle with these stories again." The boy's father said, smiling.

"Don't worry about it, Adam. I don't mind." Kristof sat down on the chair in front of the window and patted his knee. The boy crawled on his lap and sat down, snuggling against Kristof's chest.

"So you want to hear that same story again?" he asked

"Yesh. Ith'sh my moshth favorite shtwory of aww time"

Kristof chuckled. "Oh, well, it's my favorite one as well," he replied while he looked lovingly at Armin.

"Tell me, tell me!" Rock was impatient.

"Once upon a time, there lived a prince in a castle. The prince was very kind, but lonely, and he looked a little different from the other people. He once visited the market and saw another prince. This prince was happy and beautiful and played outside in the fountain with all of his friends.....

.

.

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.....And they lived happily ever after."

Special chapter after this.