The Song of the Nightingale

Epilogue

Present Day...

BOOM!

The very foundation seemed to shake, as a biblical thunder strike echoed through the winding corridors of the building. Ludwig cleared his throat, but carried on with the meeting.

"The next matter at hand, are the series of recessions that are happening across Europe. Does anyone have any suggestions on what we can do?"

I watched as Feliciano furiously waved his hand in the air.

"Ja, ja...Italy, what do you propose we do?"

The boy started to speak when another crash sounded.

It was becoming hard to breathe, but I quickly downplayed it.

I cringed as a lighting bolt illuminated the room.

I closed my eyes, and took several deep breaths.

However, no matter what I did to try to calm down was futile...for when the third rumble of thunder struck, I bolted out of the conference room doors into the hallway.

I ran into the study, and slammed the oaken entrance behind me.

I covered my ears, and started crying. I was rocking back and forth when I heard a knock on the door.

"Angleterre?" A voice asked quietly.

"I know you're in there, mon lapin."

I continued hugging my knees.

"Are you going to let me in, cher?" The voice inquired.

With a badly shaking hand, I twisted the doorknob...revealing the frenchman.

He immediately shut the door behind himself, and kneeled down to me.

"What's wrong, mon amour?" He soothingly rubbed my back.

"He...He's bombing London...I can hear...The explosions..." I sobbed, grabbing onto Francis, and burying my face into his blazer.

He gently picked me up, and walked over to the couch in the room.

"Arthur...No one has bombed London since nearly 1942."

I snapped at him.

"Then why can I still feel their pain?" I cried.

"It's just a memory." he consoled sadly.

I screamed out in agony as another thunder clap sounded.

Francis wrapped his arms around me, and began whispering something in French into my ear.

"Try to stay calm, Angleterre. I'll be right next to you...I won't leave your side."

My breaths were shallow, and the room seemed to be spinning.

"I...I'm so...Bloody cold...." I trembled through gritted teeth. Francis placed the back of his hand to my forehead.

"You're burning up..." he corrected.

I shook my head.

"I'm...freezing." I was, in fact, shivering violently.

The taller man didn't hesitate to remove his jacket, and drape it over my shoulders.

He pulled me closer.

"Is that better?" He inquired.

"N...No...." I quivered. Another thunder rumbled through the study.

I instinctively covered my ears, and started sobbing again.

I hugged Francis' coat to my chest, and shut my eyes.