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"Papa!" The ten year old Patrick Stump called, running towards his father, who had just returned from a trip. He was trying to patent a design for mechanical birds, that flew only by steam. It was a concept the young boy didn't understand, but interested him when his father had gotten a working model the week previous.
"Hello my boy!" His father called, beaming. He took his hat off and went down to his knees as his son ran into his arms. "I've missed you and your mother so much."
"We missed you to Papa!" Patrick giggled.
"Look what I've finished," his father said, as Patrick removed himself from his arms. He was holding a small, mechanical bird, painted gold. Patrick's father twisted a small dial on the bird's back, and the child saw gears turning within the automaton. The wings started to rise and fall, gaining speed, before the creature flew straight out of his father's palm.
"Oh wow!" Patrick cheered, following the creation. His mother walked out of the small house they had on the outside of the kingdom, and saw her son chasing the bird and giggling.
"My goodness, David! It's wonderful!" She cheered, rushing forward to hug her husband.
"Thank you my dear Patricia," he muttered, kissing her cheek, as their son returned with the bird.
All was well in their own little kingdom.
~~**~~
Good times can never stay, Patrick soon learned. About three months later, his mother fell ill. David and Patrick were waiting outside the bedroom the two adults shared, as the doctor visited Patricia. He left the room, shaking his head at the two of them.
David led his son into the room, and they saw Patricia lying in the bed. "Patrick my dear, come over here a moment," she muttered hoarsely.
The now eleven year old child nodded with tears in his eyes and kneeled next to the edge of her bed. "Oh my child, how beautiful you've become," she whispered, running a hand over his strawberry blonde hair. "You will always remain beautiful, as long as you remember two things; have courage and be kind," she told him, her green-blue eyes staring into his of the same color.
Patrick nodded, before the tears rolled down his cheeks. He futilely tried to wipe them away, before letting out a choked sob. "I love you Mama."
"I love you too, my lovely Patrick," she replied, her own tears filling her eyes. She gestured for her son to crawl onto the bed next to her, and he did just that. David joined his wife and son, kneeling where Patrick had just been, taking his wife's hand and bringing it to his lips.
Patricia passed away the next day.
~~**~~
"Papa! I think I've done it!" The now fifteen year old Patrick cheered, pulling off his goggles and tossing them into the table next to him, spinning himself around on his stool, swinging his legs back and forth as he leaned casually on the work table that was now behind him.
"What's that son?" David asked, walking into the workroom.
"I've built my first pocket watch!" He cheered, handing it to his father.
"Oh my...it's beautiful. Perfectly crafted, no faults...you're a natural Patrick!" His father praised.
Patrick shot a slanted, toothy grin to his father, "Oh I cannot wait to make more!" He cheered.
"You may be able to make an engine soon," his father commented. "But now I have some news for you. There is a woman, a lovely, beautiful, widowed woman, who...I'm thinking of...marrying," David told him slowly.
"But..."
"She is to be your new mother. No one should grow up with only one parent," David commented, pleading with his eyes.
"If she makes you happy, then I am okay with it," Patrick told his father sincerely.
"Oh thank you son! She has two sons, who are to be your new step-brothers," David added.
"And I shall treat them like my own brothers," Patrick promised. "When do they arrive?"
"Monday, a week from now," his father told him.
"I shall go make sure the guest room is ready for them," Patrick told his father, before standing up from his workbench. He attempt to fix his wild hair, took his gloves off, and smoothed his vest. Patrick picked up his newly made watch and slid it into his pocket.
~~**~~
That next Monday came too quickly for Patrick's liking. He heard the carriage with his new stepmother and stepbrothers arrive and waited in the entryway. At his father's request, he had worn his nicest vest and black pants with the fewest amount of buckles (as she found then unsightly). Patrick had worn his cleanest boots and his favorite leather fingerless gloves, nervously fiddling with his pocket watch chain.
"Have courage, and be kind," he whispered the words his mother told him all those years ago. Patrick took a deep breath as his father opened the front door.
"He--" he started.
"It really is as small as it looked," his stepmother cut him off with distaste. Patrick's smile faltered but he immediately fixed it.
"Well, it's the best we're able to do," Patrick told her.
"You let the help speak?" His stepmother said.
"That's my son," David replied.
"Oh yes! Nice to meet you...Paul," she told him, no enthusiasm in her voice.
"It's Patrick," Patrick replied, trying as hard as he could to keep his kindness around.
"Ah. Yes. Gerard! Mikey! Get in here!" She screeched to her sons.
"Hello mother," One with brown hair in a red button down shirt said.
"This is our new brother?" The other, a blonde in an orange shirt asked distastefully.
"Mikey be nicer!" She scolded.
"Well Donna, Patrick will show your boys to their room," David interjected.
"Ah alright," Donna replied. Gerard, the brunette, and Mikey followed Patrick to the guest room that was turned into their room.
"It's rather small," Gerard sneered.
"Well, it's the biggest we have," Patrick told him truthfully.
"It'll have to do for now," Mikey sighed.
~~**~~
On a day in late December, three years of torture later, Patrick's father called him into his workroom. "Patrick, how would you like to work at my shop?"
"Oh I'd love to!" Patrick gasped.
"I can bring you down there now and show you how everything works," David told him, chucking.
"Why this all of a sudden?" Patrick inquired.
"You're eighteen now, it is time for you to learn for when you take over my shop in three years," his father told him.
"But...well I know I'll be twenty one by then, but won't you still want to run it?" Patrick asked.
"I'm getting rather old my boy, it'll be my time to retire by then," David sighed. "And anyway, there are two young apprentices, about fifteen, who I want you to train."
"Father I don't think I'm able!" Patrick exclaimed.
"You are an intelligent boy, and a wonderful mechanic," his father assured him. "Also, I have a trip to go on, and I need you to run the shop in my absence."
"Alright father," Patrick said, nodding. "Please make it home safely."
"I will my son," David promised him.
He took Patrick into the shop that afternoon, and introduced him to Andy and Joe, the apprentices, before showing him how everything worked. It was fairly simple, he would make a certain number of each object each week, and would have Andy and Joe to help him, once he taught them what they needed to know. Patrick would then divide the sales up a certain way, to pay the expenses, the apprentices, and have money for himself. He was also allowed to charge for repairs of broken objects.
~~**~~
The day came for his father to leave, and Patrick hugged him goodbye.
"I will be back in three months time," David promised. "And I shall bring you anything you want!"
"I wish for nothing other than the first branch your shoulder brushed on your journey," Patrick told him. "Then I shall see it, and always know you will come back to me."
"I will always return to you my son," David promised him, before climbing into the back of the carriage.
"Don't forget my leather vest!" Gerard shouted.
"And remember my long coat!" Mikey yelled.
"I shall not forget!" David called back.
~~**~~
"Now Patrick, Gerard and Mikey have gotten too big for their room, they are going to be taking yours. You will sleep in the attic," Donna told him.
"Yes stepmother," he replied.
"Oh no need for that, Madame will do," Donna told him.
The next three months of Patrick's life were miserable. He was forced to live in the musty attic, which was too cold to sleep in most of the time. Patrick would sleep in front of the dying coals of the hearth most nights.
When he woke up the next day, there was a sense of dread filling him, opposite the bright sunny day. There was a knock on the door, and Gerard shouted for him to go see who it was.
"Hello," Patrick greeted the man outside with a smile. "Would you like to come in?"
"N-No sir," the man replied. "I'm here because...your father fell ill on his journey. He passed away last night, I'm so sorry. He wanted me to give you this," the man told him sincerely, before giving him a branch.
"Th-Thank you," Patrick muttered. Donna was behind him when he slowly closed the door, and she had tears in her eyes. A few of Patrick's own slid down his cheeks as he silently ran out of the house.
Patrick made his way to the stable, grabbed his horse, climbed onto her back, and took off into the woods.
He stopped abruptly when a huge buck was in his path. He heard the whoops and cheers of a party of men -- a hunting party. "Go!" Patrick prodded. "Go, leave! Don't let them get you!" He whispered frantically. The buck looked at him, before taking off, running straight past him. Patrick smiled and giggled slightly, before hearing and seeing the hunting party get closer. He took off in the direction he had been going, and heard a set of hooves right behind him. Patrick pulled his horse short, stopping her, and a man on a jet black horse stopped next to him.
"Hello there! Have you seen a buck around here?" The man asked.
"You shouldn't kill him," Patrick retorted.
"What, are you two friends? Besides, we are hunting. It's what is done," The man told him.
Patrick just scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Just because it's what's done, doesn't mean it's what should be done."
"It's a hunting party. But I suppose you're right," the man defended, grinning slightly.
"That doesn't make it any better," Patrick told him.
"Who are you?" The man asked, genuinely curious.
"That's not important. But who do you think you are determining whether or not that buck gets to live?" Patrick demanded.
"My name's...Pete," the man told him.
Patrick stared at him, "Pete? Not Peter? Who calls you Pete?"
"My father mainly, when he's in a good mood," Pete smirked, running a hand through his brown hair. Patrick chuckled, before remembering his own father, and letting a few tears slide out. He hastily wiped them away, but Pete noticed. "Now why are you crying? It can't be the buck, now can it?"
"No, it's not. It's just I started thinking of my father, and well, he died. I found out today," he whispered.
"I am very sorry for your loss," Pete told him sincerely. "My own father is rather ill, and the palace physicians can't think of what is wrong."
"The palace?" Patrick asked, his interest piqued.
"Yes...I'm an apprentice," Pete told him. "I'm still trying to master my craft."
"Aren't we all?" Patrick joked with a warm smile. The sound of another horse drew there attention towards a tall looking man on a black horse, similar to Pete's.
"Are you coming or not?" The man teased.
"I'll be there in a second, Gabe!" Pete replied.
"That's Captain to you, Y--" Gabe started before being cut off by Pete shouting.
"Pete! It's Pete, Gabe!" He shot a warning look towards the Captain, that Patrick didn't quite understand. "I'm coming right now. I hope to see you again," he told Patrick sincerely.
"As do I," Patrick giggled, before waving as Pete and Gabe rode off.
~~**~~
"Peter!" The King shouted towards his son as he returned to the palace.
"Hello father," Pete greeted. "We were unable to get anything, my apologies."
"That is quite alright," the King told his son. "We have things to discuss." He led his son and the Captain into his private study. "You are nineteen now, you need to find a wife, soon."
"Well...uh...what about...a husband?" Pete mumbled.
"Don't mumble my son, what was that?" The King asked.
"What about a husband?" Pete repeated louder.
"Or that, whichever," the King shrugged. Pete beamed, he knew that relationships of the same gender were widely accepted, but he was nervous of what his father would say when he told him. "What about Prince Frank?" His father asked.
"Frank is like a brother to me. Actually...I was thinking, what if I married someone within this kingdom?" Pete asked.
"Someone not of nobility?" His father questioned. Pete nodded, and smiled slightly. "You have someone in mind," his father realized.
Gabe gasped in realization. The King shot him a questioning look, and he asked, "Was it the man you met in the woods?" Pete nodded shyly.
"I want you to marry a noble...but if you feel it could be love, or eventually be true love...I will allow it," the King said, smiling softly at his son, who beamed. "What is their name?"
Pete's grin faltered, and fell completely.
"You didn't get his name?" Gabe asked, completely shocked.
"He said it wasn't important! I didn't think to ask again as we were leaving," Pete groaned.
"Would you recognize him if you saw him again?" The King questioned.
"Easily," Pete told him.
"We can hold a ball, and you can invite all the young men in the kingdom to attend, in hopes of finding him again," the King told him. "We can invite other nobles too, just in case. Gabe, notify the staff and start preparations. The ball is to be held in three days time. Send the message throughout the kingdom."
~~**~~
Patrick was in town with Gerard, Mikey, and Donna, when they heard the sound of a horn. He turned, and saw a royal messenger standing on a small stage in the town center.
"As by order of the Prince, there will be a ball at which he will find his husband. All eligible men who are of age are invited to attend, and to possibly become the next King," the messenger proclaimed. "All people in the kingdom are invited to attend!"
Gerard and Mikey were jumping excitedly, and Donna ushered them off to the tailor's, while telling Patrick to head to the shop.
~~**~~
"So, are you gonna go to the ball?" Joe teased.
"Not for the prince..." Patrick muttered.
"What is this scandal?" Joe, the apprentice, fake gasped, hopping onto the counter Patrick was repairing a mechanic bird on.
"I made a friend, he works at the palace, I'm going to go to visit him," Patrick sighed dreamily.
"A 'friend' huh?" Andy, the other apprentice teased, smirking.
"Shut your mouths!" Patrick scolded teasingly, pulling his goggles back down. He ducked his head to hide his blush, as he polished the cogs inside his little creation.
~~**~~
The night of the ball came, and Patrick pulled one of his father's suits out of his closet. He pulled it on, and it fit perfectly.
"Where is he?" Gerard whined. "We need to leave!"
Patrick made his way down the stairs, and grinned. "It was my father's, it cost you nothing."
"That's great, why are you wearing it?" Donna questioned.
"To attend the ball of course," Patrick told her.
Gerard and Mikey burst out laughing, and Donna chuckled. "You can't go in that, you'll embarrass us. Besides, it's all ripped!" She exclaimed, pulling the sleeve on his jacket, ripping the hem. "And all those nasty buckles and chains!" She yanked them all off, and they clattered to the stairs. "Oops. Come along boys!" Gerard and Mikey laughed, before following their mother into the carriage.
Patrick felt tears rise into his eyes. His father had been gone for five days and that's how is widow behaved? Not caring that he's gone? Treating his only child like garbage? He ran into the garden and sunk down onto the steps, as the tears continued to fall. All he wanted to do was visit his friend and his stupid stepmother wouldn't even let him be happy for one night.
"Why are you crying?" A voice asked. Patrick whipped around and saw an old man in a ratty cloak standing behind him.
"I just wanted to go to the ball to visit my friend but my stepmother won't let me. She ripped my father's suit too. He passed away a few days ago and I can't believe she would do that," Patrick cried.
"Oh I'm sorry dear. Do you by any chance have some food or drink for me? I'm too poor to be able to have anything for myself," the man croaked.
"Yes of course!" Patrick said, wiping his eyes and standing up to fill a bowl with water for the man. "Here you go!"
"Thank you dear," the man said before chugging the water greedily. "Ah, you passed the test."
"Test?" Patrick questioned.
"I'm your Fairy Godfather!" The man cheered.
"You don't look like one," Patrick observed.
"Oh! Let me slip into something better!" The man laughed, before grabbing a twig. A bright blue light shot out and wrapped around him, before he appeared, much younger, in a silver suit and with brown hair. "The name's Brendon. Now! You're going to the ball!" He skipped over to the pumpkin patch, and threw his twig into the air. When he caught it, it was an elegant silver wand. He pointed it at the pumpkin, blue light shot out, and nothing happened. Patrick raised his eyebrows, and Brendon did it again. The pumpkin started growing quickly, knocking Brendon backwards and nearly crushing him. Patrick rushed forward and helped him to his feet, nearly getting crushed in the process. They both ran back, and when Patrick turned around, a large, golden carriage was where the pumpkin once was. "Now you need footmen! Oh and horses! Have you got any mice?" Brendon questioned.
"Uhh I have mechanical ones I've made," Patrick told him.
"That will do!" Brendon cheered, as Patrick handed him four of his creations. Brendon poked each one with his wand, and blue light wound its way into the cogs, and the mice whirred, before growing and morphing into huge white horses. "Okay so...footmen and a carriage driver thing!" Brendon proclaimed, grabbing two salamanders and turning them into footmen. He pointed the wand at a bird that was flying over head, and turned it into the driver. "Perfect! Now for the suit..." He trailed off. Brendon smirked, before engulfing Patrick in the blue light.
The strawberry blonde snapped his eyes shut, and when he reopened them, he was wearing an elegant suit. It was black with dark grey embroidered patterns covering the flowing jacket. The pants were black with leather straps and silver buckles on them and leather, black fingerless gloves were covering his hands and a black fedora was placed on his head.
"It's lovely Brendon! He cheered, hugging the Fairy Godfather tightly.
"Of course, no problem dear!" Brendon squealed. "Now climb into the carriage and -- oh, the shoes," he tutted. He zapped them, and combat style boots that went up to his mid-calf appeared. "Perfect! Have fun tonight with your 'friend'," Brendon smirked. Patrick blushed, and brushed his hair out of his eye.
"Is there anyway you can make it so my stepmother and stepbrothers won't recognize me?" Patrick asked. Brendon nodded, and tapped Patrick's cheek with his wand.
"There! Now good luck dear! You look beautiful! I did great!" Brendon beamed.
Patrick giggled, before climbing into the carriage. He poked his head out the window. "Is it too much?" He questioned.
"Just the right amount of too much!" Brendon cheered. "Oh! Nearly forgot, it only lasts until midnight, so be gone by then. Here, take this to track the time just in case you can't see the grand clock. Oh, and it'll only open for you. And it won't even break! Bye!" He tossed a glass pocket watch on a glass chain to Patrick and whistled, causing the driver to lead the carriage out of the yard.
~~**~~
The ball had just started, and Pete was already bored. The man from the forest hadn't showed up yet, and everyone was trying too hard to impress him. That's why he liked the other man; he handed tried to impress Pete at all, he didn't even know who Pete was.
The last of the guests arrived, and the grand front doors were shut, the cogs locking into place. "Is he here?" Gabe asked from Pete's side.
"Not yet, he will be, he has to be," Pete muttered.
Approximately ten minutes later, the doors creaked open, causing Pete to look away from Prince Frank, who thankfully only had platonic feelings for Pete. An elegantly dressed man appeared on the balcony, with the biggest, wonder-filled, smile Pete had ever seen on anyone other than a child. He was the same man Pete had met in the woods. Gabe looked at the Prince, and he grinned, excusing himself. Pete walked down to the dance floor, and crossed it, just as the man reached the ground. He smiled at Pete, as he reached him.
"They're all staring at you," he whispered.
"No my dear. Believe me, they're all looking at you," Pete told him sincerely. Patrick blushed at Pete's words, as the music started. "May I have this dance?" Patrick nodded and took Pete's hand. They danced through the first three songs together, before Pete led him off the dance floor, and out of the ballroom, to a private sitting room.
"You're a prince!" Patrick exclaimed. "You're not an apprentice!"
"Well, I'm still learning how to be a king, so I technically am my father's apprentice," Pete smirked, fixing his navy blue blazer.
"I can't believe I didn't know you were the Prince," Patrick sighed, before chuckling.
"Well now you won't forget it's me, I'm too handsome to forget," Pete teased.
"Too modest as well," Patrick giggled. Pete smiled at him, before taking his hand and leading him outside. "Where are we going?" He checked the time on the pocket watch, seeing he still had about an hour.
"You'll see," Pete smirked, leading Patrick outside. "That's a beautiful watch," he commented, and Patrick just nodded. They came up to one of the small rivers that led to a pond on the palace grounds and stopped on the bridge.
"It's lovely," Patrick sighed happily.
"So are you," Pete told him sincerely, causing the other man to blush. "Now I want to show you the secret garden!" Pete gasped out, smile growing impossibly wider. He took Patrick's hand and led him behind the palace. There were a lot of plants and a wooden swing hanging from a tree. Pete led Patrick over to it and had him sit down. Pete pushed him gently, causing the swing to rock back and forth, and Patrick to giggle. Pete walked around to sit next to him, and took the other's hand in his own. He gently kissed Patrick's fingers, before whispering, "I still don't know your name."
"Oh! Sorry," he said sheepishly. "It's --" he was cut off by the sound of the chiming bells; the clock had struck midnight. "I have to go! I'm so sorry!" He told Pete before running out of the garden.
"Wait!" Pete shouted, chasing after Patrick, who was already out of the garden and halfway back to where his carriage was. He made it to the front and as he was sprinting down the steps, the pocket watch broke off the chain and hit the ground, not breaking like Brendon promised. Patrick didn't have time to pick it up, as he hopped into the carriage.
"Hurry please!" He shouted, and the carriage sped off. He leaned out the window to see Pete crouched on the steps, picking up the pocket watch. As he was halfway back, everything started morphing back into what it originally was. "Hurry! We need to hurry!" He shrieked. About a hundred feet from his house, everything was shrinking and changing. The carriage slowed and he hopped out, grabbing his mechanical mice that had just finished transforming. His suit was no more, but the glass chain was still attached to his father's jacket. Patrick started running, with the mice in his pocket, and couldn't help but laugh happily. It started to rain, but he couldn't care. It was the best night of his life.
~~**~~
"I cannot believe him!" He heard Gerard shriek, signaling him they had arrived home.
"Who?" Patrick questioned.
"Some man waltzed in, late, and went straight for the prince, hogging him the whole time!" Mikey whined.
"Oh that's unfortunate," Patrick told them, mocking sincerity.
"It really is!" Gerard complained.
"I'm off to bed now," Patrick said, heading up towards the attic.
~~**~~
There was a knock on the door half an hour later, much to his surprise. "Come in!" Patrick called, taken aback when Gerard walked in.
"Can I ask your advice?" He asked.
"Um...sure," Patrick told him.
"I think I'm in love, and I really mean it," Gerard sighed, a tiny grin on his face.
"Really? With who?" Patrick asked, leaning forward.
"Prince Frank from the next kingdom over," Gerard blushed.
"You should go for it," Patrick told him.
"Mother...would approve...but try and take the wealth. I don't want that, I love him for him, not his title," Gerard whispered.
"Go for it anyway, and make sure he knows that. Tell him if your mother says any different it's a lie," Patrick told him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Thank you Patrick," Gerard beamed, pulling Patrick into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry for what I've done to you, I'll change how I behave, because you did this for me. Thank you so much," he whispered, before leaving the attic.
~~**~~
A search was issued throughout the country, whoever could open the watch would marry the Prince. No one was able to open it, and Pete had seen the mystery man check the time with it, opening it effortlessly.
Patrick still had the chain, and was going to use it as part of his proof, so he would be able to marry Pete, the man he could tell was his true love.
~~**~~
"This is the last house," Gabe told Pete, as they arrived at the building. Little did Pete know, the mother had made a deal, knowing full well Patrick was the one he was looking for. She made an arrangement with the Prince's second in command, that Mikey would marry the prince, and she would reward the man handsomely. He had agreed to the deal, not knowing Gabe had heard it all.
Pete's father had passed the day before, leaving Pete desperate to find the man, so he would be able to wed as he was coronated. Gabe told him to wear a guard's uniform and sneak into the procession, so he could meet the man. The Captain wouldn't tell him why, only mentioning something about a deal the mother made, but promised it would be better that way.
Donna had locked Patrick in the attic, refusing to let him down. The second in command and Gabe entered the home with the watch. Gerard tried to open it, without much enthusiasm, and failed. Mikey tried desperately, by the damned thing would open.
"I guess we failed," the second in command said. "No one else is here, let's go."
"What about Patrick?" Gerard asked. Donna turned to her son and glared at him.
"Patrick?" Gabe asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
"Our servant," Donna spat.
"Our stepbrother," Mikey corrected. "He deserves a chance!"
"You don't know what you're talking about," Donna insisted.
"Is he a man of age?" Gabe asked.
"Yes," both Gerard and Mikey said, feeling a change of heart towards their stepbrother.
"Then he gets a chance," Pete said, talking off his helmet as he entered the house. "Gabe, I understand what you meant now. Where is he?" Mikey was about to reply, before he was cut off by beautiful singing drifting towards them. "Is that him?"
"Yes," Gerard answered, smiling. "He's in the attic. Mikey and I will take you."
They opened the door, and the two brothers went to go get Patrick, and brought him down.
"Pete," he breathed out, shocked.
"Hello there. Patrick, was it?" He asked, grinning. Patrick nodded, and Pete handed him the watch. He twisted the knob on the top, and the front covering popped off. "It's you, it's always been you. The man in the woods, my mystery prince!" Pete beamed.
"It has, and it's always been you Pete. The apprentice from the woods, my not-so-mystery prince," Patrick beamed. Gerard was grinning, and that reminded Patrick of something he wanted to ask Pete. "You're friends with Prince Frank, correct?"
~~**~~
Two weeks later, Pete and Patrick were married. Gerard had made contact with Frank, and was to marry him a few weeks later. Patrick never thought he'd see the day his stepbrothers were kind to him. Donna and the second in command were arrested for treason, and Patrick's life was full of happiness, like it had been when he was just ten years old.
"Are you ready my dear?" Pete asked.
"Is this you?" Patrick countered, pointing to a portrait of the old King, a beautiful woman, and a boy of about five with a huge, toothy grin on his face.
Pete laughed, "Yes it is. I've always hated this painting."
"It's cute," Patrick grinned.
"You're cute," Pete told him sincerely, kissing his cheek. Patrick blushed, and locked their fingers together. "As I asked earlier, are you ready to face the country?"
"I am," Patrick replied, taking a shuddery breath.
"They will simply adore you," Pete whispered, as they walked onto the balcony.
The two waved to their people, with matching smiles. Patrick turned, kissed his husband in front of the country, happier than he'd ever been...
...And they both lived happily ever after.