Silver's Drabble: You guys have waited long enough for a new chapter, and I swear it's not my fault it took this long. This entire fanfic had very important, very valuable Plot Notes saved up in my other laptop. And guess what, that other laptop broke. Who broke it? My idiot of an older brother. So now I have to start from scratch. Which means I have zero ideas on how the next chapter will go and I'm just listening to my guts here. But don't worry, I'll make it through somehow. In the mean time, here's what I came up with so far. I'm introducing Francis now mostly because he will be important in the upcoming fic that will be connected to this one. Hopefully I can figure out what happens next. See you all later, sweethearts.

Francis Bonnefoy wept.

Ignoring the faces of the crowd as they looked up to their fallen king, slapping away his Mother's hand as she tried to hug him, unsheathing his sword and lodging in on the wooden platform. He wept. Not for the Father who taught him everything he knew, but for the man all of Ciel loved and adored. A man he could never be.

"Mon ange, hush now, do not weep." His Mother knelt beside him, her long fingers running through his shoulder-length blond hair. "Your Papa would not want you to weep for him. He would want you organized, ready to take the throne."

Francis felt a pang of rage simmer inside him. "Not once have I ever wept..." he thought to himself, "He would allow me this privilege. You, on the other hand, would not. It would ruin your image. You love your image."

He shrugged her off, much to her dismay. "Francis, get up, you are not a child." she said, a chill in her sweet voice. "If you do not show them you are capable of taking over the kingdom, I might as well give the crown to someone else."

He smirked. "To that bastard child in the dungeon?"

She froze, her blood running cold. He sensed her fear, knew that what he said struck a chord. They had never spoken of the child he saw her drag from the tower to the dungeon, had never mentioned it since five years ago when she slapped him for asking, ignored the issue when he sent dozens and dozens of roses to the poor child when his Mother was not looking. He didn't think of the consequences of bringing up the subject now, all he wanted was for her to be silent.

"F-Francis..." her voice was soft, almost a whisper. "Y-You know we never talk about... About that."

Francis felt like rolling his eyes, but he chose to stand up instead. Leaving his sword where it was, lodged into the wooden platform, its hilt glinting in the morning sun, he walked away. Queen François rushed after him, but was held back by the Maria and Sesel who were determined to get her to have breakfast. Francis was secretly grateful, returning Sesel's wink with a smile of his own.

Striding through the crowd, he let their eyes follow him, allowing them to judge their future King on their own. He contemplated on going down to the dungeon, dropping by to visit the beautiful doe-eyed child his Mother locked in there, but decided against it. The notorious pirate Arthur Kirkland was in there with him, and he didn't want to see the man for many reasons. Instead, he walked to the stables, tossing Kyle and Jason a smile as he strode to his favorite horse.

"I'll be riding out a bit," he said to the brothers. "Please tell Maria and Sesel I was grateful for the distraction, but I hope they can distract her long enough for me to get over this whole thing."

Jason giggled, raising his left hand to his forehead in salute. "Will do, your Majesty!" he exclaimed, "Just come back before dawn or we'll have to keep Her Majesty from riding out to find you."

Francis nodded, got up on Picardy, and rode away. From far away, up on the misty hills, Alfred watched him. It was just right to let the Prince enjoy his freedom now, he wasn't going to get any more of it the moment Arthur took the throne. Coronation was tonight, and their band of pirates was ready. All they needed was little Peter's signal, and Ciel would go up in flame.

"How long are you going to keep painting?" Arthur scoffed, tilting his head to get a better view of Matthew. "You can't just bloody ignore me, lad."

Matthew turned slightly, pouting at Arthur. "You killed the King."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"I don't talk to killers."

Arthur laughed, his voice echoing through the empty halls of the dungeon. "Is that all, pet, or are you gonna start spouting some nonsense about how you won't talk to thieves or whores, either?" he spat, lifting himself off his cot.

"Thieves don't take lives, and whores have done nothing wrong!" Matthew defended, forgetting his painting. "You took the life of the King. I'm not sure how you did it, but I know you won't succeed in your plans! Ciel isn't as weak as you think it is!"

Arthur shrugged, lazily walking towards the bars of his cell. "I'm not saying Ciel is weak, pet." He grinned. "The Queen and her precious Prince are."

Matthew was confused. "What do you mean? I don't-"

Arthur held a finger over his mouth, winking. "You'll understand soon enough..." his eyes looked up, over Matthew's head and through the little window above his cot. "My little boy won't fail me."

As the sun disappeared behind the mountains of Ciel, Francis was slowly riding back to the castle. He dreaded facing his Mother now, not after the hostile conversation they had in the morning. He dismounted just as Maria arrived, bringing with her a dry towel and an apple.

"I figured you were home, your Majesty." She greeted, offering him the dry towel. "Your Mother was worried, but Sesel took care of that." She smiled, tossing him the apple. "Seriously, Francis, you can't keep running away from her."

Francis smiled, taking a bite of the apple as he wiped off his sweat. "She can be a bit overbearing, oui?" he replied. "She moved the Coronation to tonight when it was supposed to be tomorrow. She couldn't wait for her mon ange to finish weeping for his Father."

Maria shrugged, tossing her long black hair behind her. "She's just anxious, you know her." She defended, taking Picardy's reigns and guiding him to his place. "She's really strong, for a woman who just lost her husband. I haven't seen her shed a tear."

Francis smile fell, his eyes darkening. "She will never cry over him. She never loved him..." he thought, glancing at the girl who had no idea how messed up the Royal Family of Ciel actually was. It wasn't his place to speak badly about his Mother, she was still Queen after all. She could charge him of treason, if pushed too far.

"Are they preparing for the ceremony, mon cher?" he asked instead, giving what remained of his apple to Picardy.

Maria nodded. "Her Majesty's dressed for the occasion, all in the blue hue of Ciel!" she told him, delight evident in her voice. "The other handmaids are looking for you, though. Hurry up now, or they'll yell at me for holding you back!"

Francis laughed, placing a chaste kiss on Maria's head. "Merci, Maria."

She rolled her eyes. "Just go already."

He strolled out the stable, nearly bumping into Peter as the little boy rushed past him. "Where are you going, petit garçon?" he asked, steadying the poor kid. "Aren't you supposed to be in the kitchen, helping out Madame Rose?"

Peter looked mildly petrified as he flinched away from Francis' touch. "S-She said I could t-take a break..." he stammered, refusing to look Francis in the eye. "I-I just thought that maybe I could go play with my friends..."

Francis smiled, petting his head. "Ah, how I miss being a child!" he said, mostly to himself. "Go now, before they start looking for you again."

Peter nodded. "Thank you, your M-Majesty!" he scurried past him.

He continued towards the castle, stopping now and again to greet the staff scattered in the courtyard. Everyone was busy preparing for the Coronation, hefting vases of Ciel's blue roses here and there. That reminded him, he forgot to give the blond blue roses today.

"Mon dieu, I'm the only one not looking forward to this." he muttered to himself, breaking into a jog towards his room. The moment he pushed open the door, he was surrounded by handmaids. Within minutes, he was dressed in Ciel blues, ready for the approaching Coronation.