𝓔𝓹𝓲𝓼𝓸𝓭𝓮 67: 𝓡𝓮𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓗𝓸𝓶𝓮

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November 27, 1979

New York, First American Empire

We had arrived back at the Imperial Palace. Our honeymoon was over and honestly? I was glad to be at the court... back to Victoria.

I missed my daughter ever so much, and I couldn't wait to see her again. When Mattéo and I stepped out of the car, we were shocked by the mob of paparazzi, reporters, and people.

"Oh lord, Josey, don't answer any questions, we should get back to the palace as soon as possible!" Mattéo hissed hurriedly.

"I agree, I've dealt with reporters before, they can be savages!"

Guards flanked us to protect us as paparazzi began bombarding us with questions.

"Your majesty, how was your trip!?"

"Your actions in Rome were amazing! Do you have any comments!?"

"What are the Bonapartes planning!?"

"What about the Russians!?"

I ignored all their questions as Mattéo and I rushed up the palace steps.

"How are the Holy Romans, your majesty!?"

"Were the English as cruel as you thought!?"

The guards pushed some away as we fled into the palace and the doors shut behind us. We now came face to face with several of the nobles. Trondheim, Maxwell, and a few others. There was one face that was missing: Humberto.

"Welcome back your majesty! Imperial highness! Hopefully, the paparazzi wasn't too bad..." Maxwell walked forward and said before kissing my hand.

"We could handle it," I replied, "How are you all?"

"We're doing fine, your majesty, hopefully, your trip was to your liking!" Trondheim chortled.

"It was definitely what we hoped it to be! Now... there are a few faces I'm missing, where's the princess?"

"Victoria is finishing up one of her lessons, she should be out in a little while,"

"Ah, now what about Humberto... I haven't seen him yet!"

Silence. Awkward, pained looks sweep across the group of nobles.

"Your majesty... three weeks ago... Humberto..." Maxwell began.

He paused.

"He passed in his sleep, your majesty..." Trondheim finished.

"Oh no!" I cried out.

Poor man... and our relationship was finally on the right track.

Mattéo rubbed my back sympathetically.

"I didn't say goodbye even..."

"You can't blame yourself, Josey, we were away, and a death-like that is very unpredictable, it was just his time to go," Mattéo replied.

"I agree with the emperor consort your majesty, he was eighty-five years old, it was just his time," Trondheim said.

85!? Good god, he was older than I thought! Good for him though.

I nodded.

"Humberto did request that a letter be left on your desk for you to read up on your return,"

"He did?"

"Yes he's had it written for a couple of months now, his health was declining quickly so he wanted to make sure he had a chance to say goodbye if you weren't there,"

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