Day's funeral is on a cold, dreary Wednesday. I've never liked Wednesdays. It was glaringly sunny outside, a contradiction to what I was feeling on the inside.

Anden had come to my apartment and delivered the news himself, explaining patiently how the seemingly mysterious tumor that been pressing against his brain had been gradually sapping away at his strength. It hit me why he had ended our relationship that night. Why he had torn my heart to pieces.

In his own selfish way, he had set me free. I know that if I had been in his arms only the night before, and he had died the very next day, I would have killed myself.

It is decided that he would be buried next to Kaede's plot. His own grave is large and boxy and more of a memorial. Hundreds of people show up for the funeral, but the sight of so many people in black and shedding tears over their fallen hero makes me feel weak and dry in the throat.

Anden has generously excused me from my duties for the month.

My thoughts are jumbled, and I can't think straight. My palms were sweating. I swore I could see a flash of white-blond hair and the hauntingly familiar blue eyes. I shiver.

As the funeral is drawing to a close, I spot Tess's familiar face. She nods toward me, stiffly. Her mouth is set in a grim line, but her eyes are a million miles away. Her hands are clenched, but I can see that her anger is directed toward Day for not telling anybody that he was dying, and not at me. I nod back, and then I spot the hand pressing against her hand.

Baxter. That was his name, right? The Patriot. He had been a Runner, I can remember now. I smile softly, happy for something that finally has some closure, finally a happy ending.

I walk over slowly, my feet padding along on the soft grass. Tess looks alarmed to see me walking towards her, and she makes to duck away, but I call out to stop her.

"Wait, Tess…" I freeze, because I don't really know what to say.

Tess just stares icily towards me, "Yes?"

"…You and Baxter are cute together," I say. I don't mention the glaringly obvious. Day is dead.

Tess is silent before nodding again, "Thanks. So are you and Anden."

"Oh, we aren't-" I begin before she cuts me off.

"Day would've wanted you to be happy, June," Tess says quietly.

The awkward silence settles between us, but then I bring the younger girl in for a hug.

She returns it, and then we stand their, two teenage girls, hugging in the warm sunshine of spring.

She backs away first, nods, wipes a tear away, and then links herself around Baxter's arm and then walks away.

I feel lost now, and then I feel Anden slowly approaching me. I spot the guards out in the crowd, and I nod.

"Elector," I say with a the customary curtsy.

Anden just shakes his head, "Enough with the formalities, June. Especially not today."

I just stare at the grave, where Day's ashes are now buried.

"He came to me, after he broke up with you," Anden says quietly.

I look up, surprised by this new information, "He did? What did he say?"

"He told me. Everything," Anden continues.

I'm outraged. He knew. He knew Day was dying and he didn't tell me.

Anden starts speaking again before I can speak, "He gave me this to give to you. He wanted me to tell you he loved you."

He presses a metal coin into my hand. It's an old, metal U.S. coin. With an eagle stamped into one side. The ridges are smooth, and a cord is laced through it.

I nod, and then Anden cautiously places a hand on my shoulder. I shiver at his touch, and he instantly recoils, but then I look up at him, and then he seems to read my unspoken need and he places it back on my shoulder again.

"…June…." He says softly. His voice is sweet like honey, and the rich tones of confidence that come with being born into the rich are familiar to me. Thomas, Commander Jamison, they all had it in their voices.

Day didn't.

But it comforts me now, to hear something so heartachingly familiar. Anden gently rubs small circles into my shoulder, and my heart seems just to release a little.

I hadn't seen day in about four months, three days, two hours, and twenty-two minutes.

And I'll never see him again.

Anden gently pulls me to the corner, where the guards won't be able to hear our conversation.

"You okay?" Anden asks. His eyes are boring into mine. And for that minute, he's again not the Elector Primo, but a gentle teenage boy who actually cares about my well-being.

"No," I say quietly, and it's the truth. My heart is torn in half and heavy in my chest and I feel like it's going to fall out any second now, "But I will be."

Anden nods, his mouth set into a grim line. I slide out of reach, and then kneel down at Day's grave. I let a single tear escape, and then curse myself, because sadness is a show of weakness.

Anden gently pulls me up, brushes the tear away, and then gently places a kiss on my mouth.

Later, Tess comes up to me, sidling up with a smug smile on her face that I've never seen on her face.

"I saw somebody kissing the Elector Primo today at Day's funeral," she says slyly. I get it. She's extending an olive branch of friendship.

I blush, and I decide to take the offered truce.

She grins, "He's cute."

Four months, five days, three hours, twelve minutes, twenty-eight and a half seconds.

But as Anden gently pulls me in for another kiss, I realize that maybe, it's time to stop counting.