The cool breeze blew softly as a young man with dark brown hair strolled along the quiet cobbled streets. Not many people were walking around that late afternoon. The young man walked slowly along, thinking, reminiscing of his past adventures. He lost his loved ones then, but those events also made him stronger and wiser. He could never forget about his dearest friend, Franz d'Epinay; his father, Fernand Mondego; or the tragic Count of Monte Cristo, Edmond Dantes. Also, he could never forget the friends he had made who are still living: Baptistin, Bertuccio, and the Princess of Janina, Haydee.
As he thought over the princess, he felt that familiar pain in his chest.
"No… I'm going to see Eugenie again… she loves me, and I… I love her." Or did he? True, when that man asked him before if he loved her, he couldn't answer. Then, later he thought to himself he loved her. He rescued her from that insane man on her wedding day. He kissed her. But did those things proved that he loved her? Wasn't he just deceiving himself in order to make her happy?
"It couldn't be!" he said aloud. The few people who were passing by stared at him. Then why? Why did he keep on thinking of the princess? During those lonely nights, he would recall the time when he carried her in his arms while she rested her head, heartbroken that someone she loved died again. He could remember the scent of her silky hair, the feeling of her soft hands, and the look on her pale face.
"Even if… even if that was true… she's still a princess, a true royal… while I, while I'm just a nobody!" He covered his face with his hands.
"Monsieur Albert?"
Oh God. This couldn't be happening. He slowly turned around and found himself staring at the beautiful face he was thinking about only a few seconds ago.
"Mademoiselle Haydee!" he exclaimed. She looked at him with those pure eyes, concerned.
"I'm planning to go back to Janina, and I thought I'd see this place once again before I leave forever." A look of heartrending sadness crossed her face.
"You're going back?" This just couldn't be happening. "But… why?"
"I thought I could live here, living with the memory of my lord. But the pain never stops… it only gets worse, when I see the streets, the opera houses that we have gone to together… I found it hard to see all these things without thinking of what could have been."
"You still love him then?"
"Yes." Teardrops slowly cascaded from her fine cheeks. He instinctively wiped them away with his hand.
"I'm sorry, Monsieur… I shouldn't be crying now…"
"Sometimes it hurts not to cry." He gently wrapped his arms around her slight frame. "I'll miss you."
Overcoming her surprise, she rested her head on his chest. "Thank you, Monsieur Albert. You are such a good friend. The Count was very lucky to have you as his friend."
"I'm your friend too, you know."
She lifted her face. "I'm glad."
Albert let her go. "I wish you'd stay… or at least come visit once in a while…"
"Perhaps, I will. I must be going now." She bowed slightly. "Goodbye, Monsieur Albert."
"Goodbye." I love you.