It was a beautiful morning, and the same could be said about the midday that Doyun found himself in, as the sun rose above the vineyard Le de le flour. He swung past the large oak, making his way into the side house that was attached to his very own abode. He crossed the bridge that connected the small hut that was once his mother's painting room - within it, there were paintings, finished and unfinished, grand paintings of nobility hung upon easels. unfinished works were hung up - even though they were unfinished, his father was so madly infatuated with the woman that he kept them still, he spoke to him constantly about her, saying the words like,

  'Your mother's art may be unfinished, but I want them to stay that way so that when I am dead and pass into the grave,e we may finish them together.'

  It was the little things like this that he found he loved most about his father. He looked about the bridge he crossed, which went over a gurgling rivulet that banked over a stone mass, and flew into a small river. The sound of the water was something he would never get rid of - it was his first love. Even when he was a young boy, he would play within the gurgling trickle and pretend to fish - then when he turned twelve, his father took him out to sea upon a rowboat, and fished for real. He did not catch anything, though the memory was one he would not forget. He made his way up the lefthand-side of the main house building and kocked on the door, Of which opened in a couple second,s though the face was not one he was expecting.

  'Lena! What are you doing here?' The bright-eyed woman with brown flowing hair cascading over her shoulders smiled at him.

  'Edmund!' she threw herself at him, their lips mingled in a brisk kiss, then she pulled away.

  'Your father sent me the news that you had arrived,' she then kissed her lover again.

  'My father knows im home already? But how?'

  'He was told by your captain.'

  Edmund looked at The Lady Mercedes with a strange and befuddled look. How is this possible? For he is dead... is he not? he must be, for he passed his captain title to me. But.

  "How is that possible. For the captain is dead - He made me the new captain of the Pharaoh.'

  'I-i do not know,' she slunk as if the weight of the sorrowful news had filled her boots with water and she was falling into the ocean, burdened in her heart. 'Though that is good news... is it not - not that the captain is dead. Thats horrid - but that you are now the captain of the Pharaoh! This is something that must be talked about. You always spoke to me about how much you wanted to be a captain - your dream has come true. ' She pounced upon him once more. Wrapping her arms around him. Though as quickly as she jumped upon him, she slunk off, for another man approached behind Edmund.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  'cousin,' she spoke with an edge upon it.

  'Mercedes,' he nodded to Edmund, 'I suppose I shall congratulate you upon the new title.' He said, taking off the tricorn that was upon his head.

  'Thank you, Mister Ferdinand. And I really should congratulate you too - if I remember correctly, before I left, you were in your last year at the Academy. You are to go onto the front now, are you not?'

  'This is True. Ser Dantes. This is indeed true.'

  'Well i hope you're safe on your tour.' Dantes nodded.

  'Thank you, well, I was just to come by and help my cousin with what was to be done, though as you are here now, I suppose I am unneeded.'

  He said, walking away. The young man grimaced and could feel the green curling coil that was his envy; it was like a snake how it slowly pronounced itself into his mind. It was he who should be with Mercedes. And so he walked away with a passionate hatred as he made his way back into Silver Naples Proper. Behind his back, the two lovers fell into each other once more.

  'I would like to wed you tonight.' Doyun whispered into her ear.

  Bashedly she stepped away. She still kept herself close to him.

  'Tonight, But arnt you leaving in the morning?'

  'Oui, I am,

  IN TOWN

  The heat was getting to one Monsieur Danglars; it was still hot even when the sun could barely be seen. The Dark red and black of the sky was a dreary sight - as it had been, and always will be. He took a swig of the now cool coffee as he watched the young man, whom he had known by the name Ferdinand Jean Morceff. He wore upon his face an awful scowl that did awful things to his facade, he watched as woman whom where gathering at the edges of the cafe he sat at looked upon the man - whom had often gotten many suitors and woman whom wanted him, though his air today musstve neenn aufully smelly, for by the second they saw him they all started whispering among themselves.

  'Monsieur Morceff! You fare well?' he called out to the sad man.

  'No, I do not, Danglars. No i do not.'

  'Edmund Dantes, the bastard, has arrived and has absconded with my Mercedes heart,' he threw down his hat upon the white table that, danglers had made his.

  'Coffee?' the other man asked the other.

  'No. No, thank you. I appreciate it, but no. I'm too wracked - my mind is mustering grave thoughts.'

  'What kind of grave thoughts?' Danglars prodded, for he wanted to dirty up the Dante too.

  ' What kind. Queen and country i should not even tell you. GODS, he threw his hat onto the floor as a breeze picked up. The winds had grown fierece now seeming to eereirly match the mans temper.

  'Just tell me, man!' Danglars looked at the other man, pulling him close. 'We both hold the same thoughts.' then pulled away.

  'I was told that he was not going to arrive till the morrow, though it seems that was in itself a lie - my cousin, why doesn't she see me as the man I know I can be for her! That Rat of A Dantes!'

  'Quiet yourself.' Danglars spoke soft though stern in the same breath. Looking behind his comrade, they were drawing eyes from the onlookers who also resided around the cafe.

  'We shall plot. but not here. But not here.'

  Ferdinand nodded.

  'We should do it soon, for I fear that they are to be wed tonight."