Hello, everyone! I'm back with another fic set in the popular Cardverse AU. This story is a prequel to my older work called Watch Over Me. Reading it first might make understanding this one easier, but I'm trying my best to make them as independent as possible.

I am so thankful to my awesome beta reader Syntax-N who has greatly encouraged me to write this story. If you haven't already, check out her fanfiction Hetafata. It's one of the best you can find, I assure you.

I don't own Hetalia.

A New Beginning

The funeral wasn't anything special. Sure, the now former King of Spades had reached his prime during his time in power, but he had never once equaled the influence of his predecessors.

Arthur, Queen of Spades, fumbled at the cufflinks of his coat and looked passively at the grave the coffin containing his great-uncle was heaved into. It took ten men to pick up the heavy object, five more to navigate it to the prepared hole in the ground, and another three to gently place it inside. The King was a big man, or used to be, Arthur reminded himself. His only connection to the King had been solely on a professional basis, as he had served his uncle as Queen for years. The job was… peculiar. Behaving subservient to and so formal with a man who could have been his own father.

Who could have been his own father…

Arthur's mind spiraled away from the graveyard and began rummaging in his memories. The dead King used to have two sons, actually. Arthur's cousins, to be precise. But thinking of them was pointless now, the poised man noticed. They had been kidnapped or had disappeared years ago, though many could only assume the former. The boys were no more than three at the time. It would've been impossible for them to run away from the castle on their own.

The mysterious thing was that even after decades of looking for them, no one had found even a trace. The people had given up, and most unfortunately, their own family had ceased believing in their survival. Times of hopeless grief had come and suppressed any kind of joy in the royal family. The wounds in their hearts were permanent.

However, at long last, time had fulfilled its purpose and concealed the everlasting pain. It had not healed their hearts, but it had encouraged the people to move on and to accept the loss as only natural and inevitable. Now only few even remembered the little twins who had run around the palace, bugging their elder cousins to no end. They had been told to stop their annoying behavior, but they didn't listen. Again and again they pestered and annoyed their beloved cousins, whittling down the fibers of their patience, until one day, the eldest cousin couldn't handle it anymore and wished for them to disappear, to just go away—

It was amusing and horrifying how fate could play out.

Arthur locked his rising guilt back inside the emotional vault he had created for his feelings and wished he had thrown the key farther away. Some feelings managed to escape sometimes. He had tried his hardest to move on and to just forget about his young cousins. Still, no matter how closed-off he came across as, there was no denying that he was a doting family member. In his own way. He just couldn't remember his younger cousins' wide eyes and chubby cheeks and not feel responsible for them.

But he was chosen since birth to be Queen of Spades, and this had always required his whole attention, no matter how high his heart soared when he was asked to play with or to spend time with his young relatives. He never made exceptions. Not even at a funeral.

The blond looked up and gently adjusted his grand black top hat. The nearly constant peering at his hands and feigned sadness about the King's death tore at his nerves and rubbed his patience raw. He was not an impatient man by any means, but playing pretend for hours now was emotionally draining. This was one of the only weaknesses of royal privilege: burying true emotions under a trained facade.

If his face had been naturally more expressive, everyone attending the funeral would have been shocked to see a small, wry smile on his face as he thought about how much he had done and given up for his kingdom. He had never considered his personal limits twice and instantly went out of his comfort zone to serve Spades with all the devotion the Black Joker's power had given to him. He had always been the best at all his studies, making his mother and father proud. He had always been a mature role model for his younger cousins by following etiquette to a tee. And even more than these, he had been the anchor in the storm for the people of Spades during the War of Cards while his great-uncle had done nothing more than hide underneath his bed, waiting for the Warmonger of Hearts to come to his doorstep and rip his kingdom out of his very hands.

At this thought, a bigger smile graced his lips for others to see, followed by a light chuckle which was promptly stifled by an employed cough. So much honor was given this day for a weakling of a ruler who didn't deserve any of it.

But as he cynically expected, when the ceremony was over, the noble guests were picked up by carriages and brought to the castle for festivities, and all soon forgot the actual reason they had been invited. The lords and ladies laughed carelessly next to bubbling marble fountains and danced animatedly in flowing gowns and suits with tails. This lack of grieving only proved what an 'aspiring' legacy the last King of Spades had left behind.

Arthur stood stiffly off to the side, like he usually did, watching the guests with critical eyes. He assumed that actions like these added to him being perceived as standoffish, but one could never be careful enough when he had led a nation through arguably the most brutal war in the history of Cards. Besides, he was the Queen of the kingdom they were visiting.

"Why are you so limey, my friend?" A smooth voice spoke up next to him, and Arthur came face to face with a stubbly chin and a gush of sweet perfume that washed over his face in noxious excess. Francis. "Aren't you happy that you now have the chance to serve a king worthy of his position?"

"I do advise you not to speak like this about the former King of Spades, especially when you occupy the throne of Diamonds, Spades' most trusted ally, I might add," Arthur answered dryly and sniffed in distaste.

Going against any decorum, Francis nudged the Queen playfully with his elbow and chuckled. "I can see it in your eyes. You are relieved. But I do see something else there… Is it worry?"

It truly was extraordinary how well Francis could read people. But Arthur decided to give the King a hard time. He set his jaw in emphasis of his stoicism. "Not at all."

Francis hummed in thought and tapped his chin. "You are not even a tiny bit worried about the heir to the throne?"

Arthur glared at him and flared his nostrils, suddenly feeling as if his whole country had been insulted. "We have nothing to worry about."

He knew it was a lie, and that Francis was aware of this too, but he had one hope left he would later prefer to be confirmed. He had to keep this in mind at all costs. The future of the kingdom depended on it.

"If that is so, then you can loosen up and come with me. I was just about to return to the pretty ladies over there, but as I am such a loyal friend, I will help you mend some diplomatic relationships. You are truly not a social butterfly."

As was typical for Francis, he ignored Arthur's will and dragged him along like peasants would a sack of grain too heavy to be carried. While they broke through the masses of people to the other end of the great hall, the King of Diamonds blew countless kisses to each side, whether directed at women or men. He was just that charming, and his openness disgusted Arthur to a certain extent. The man dressed in orange violated most unspoken rules of royalty, though he was clothed like the king he was and was always up for planning parties and balls to please nobles.

Francis stopped abruptly, and Arthur embarrassingly ran into him and clutched his nose in pain. He glanced around the room in a split second of self-consciousness. Luckily, no one had noticed his mishap.

"Thank you so much for the invitation, your Majesty!"

It took a moment for Arthur to realize the happy, upbeat voice belonged the Jack of Hearts, Feliciano. The Queen of Spades smiled tightly and nodded respectfully at the both the spunky redhead and the raven-haired man next to him. This was the Queen of Hearts, who happened to be the Jack of Spades' brother.

"It was my pleasure," he replied. "I do hope you are enjoying yourselves."

So, there were the Jack and the Queen, which only left—

"I don't think you've met Luddy — em — Ludwig before. The heir to the throne of Hearts," the lively Jack said and grabbed a tall man whom Arthur was surprised to not have noticed before by the arm.

His flaxen hair was slicked back in a way that registered he was a considerably fussy man on terms of neatness, yet his sharp blue eyes would discourage any mockery. His face bore a deep frown and hinted its constant presence in the way his lips were turned downward. He was so tall that he easily overshadowed his companions, and his fine clothes confirmed his high position in society. Arthur squinted and made out that his jaw structure and ears resembled his elder brother's with almost ridiculous accuracy despite him being much more muscular than the former King.

"You look like Gilbert," the Queen of Spades blurted out without thought, and he knew he would chastise himself for this prudent slip of tongue later on.

The future King's eyes widened at the unexpected comment, and he slightly withdrew the hand he had been holding out to the Queen. Francis piped up and patted Arthur's shoulder while looking at him playfully: "Don't steal my lines, dearie. This is what wives are for."

"He does look like him, doesn't he?" Feliciano scrutinized the blond and, without warning, brought a hand up to squish his cheeks. The prince met his gaze with a glare and slapped the redhead's cheeky hand away like one would an annoying fly.

"I would appreciate you keeping away from my face," the tall man said, slightly blushing at Arthur's remark.

The Queen of Spades was startled by the deep voice and wondered how old the prince would be now. He couldn't just ask him, could he? That would be so unsophisticated—

"Say, your Highness, which birthday will you mark this year?" Francis asked, unfazed by Arthur's shocked expression. Seriously, he knew the King of Diamonds had good people skills, but this was simply unbelievable.

"I turned seventeen a few months ago," the teenager answered with as little emotion as a well-trained soldier. By now, even the normally composed Queen of Spades couldn't bite down his gasp and joined in with Francis.

Arthur frowned deeply. How could someone so young look so old and mature? To Prince Ludwig's defense, he had lost his father, mother, and brother in a span of six years, and the kingdom he would take over soon was in shambles with its reputation ruined… This didn't make his position any easier at all. Arthur almost pitied him. Almost. After all, his brother didn't have to start a war against Spades.

As gracefully as he could in this situation, Arthur changed the topic by excusing himself. "I must be going now. It was a pleasure to meet you. I will get back to you as soon as I can." He looked at Ludwig and found him to be smiling slightly. His eyes were shimmering with… hope… and maybe gratefulness?

"Thank you, your Majesty. I appreciate it."

The Queen nodded in turn and left the group, heading to his initial point from before. The reaction of the young heir was unexpected, he admitted. He felt the Prince of Hearts was different from his brother. Ludwig was well-behaved and seemed to be genuine and humble. But as his life motto stated: One could never be careful enough.

A timid cough of politeness aroused his attention, and Arthur allowed his valet, who had suddenly materialized next to him, to speak.

"The Jack of Spades requires your presence, your Majesty," the servant informed him.

Arthur bit down a tired sigh but nodded gratefully. The servant guided the blond through the crowd since he could never have located the man who had asked for him on his own.

There Yao stood as regally as always. He had jet-black hair and always insisted on wearing dress-like clothing instead of a true set of pants, just like the Queen of Hearts. This was fine with Arthur since he very much respected the Jack who'd been in service for a very long time now. Arthur excused the servant, and Yao took notice of his presence immediately, ushering him behind a wide pillar with a violent hand motion.

"Time is running out. I've been asked the question about the heir so many times now, and I am tired of finding excuses," the pale man complained while looking at Arthur with a half annoyed, half serious expression. No, he was only annoyed.

The blond nodded tiredly in agreement. "Me too. I suggest we ask Roswitha for an update right away." With determination, he added, "If this ends in a catastrophe, then we'll have no other choice but to take Plan B into consideration."

The Jack ran a hand through his hair, tousling some strands of his neat ponytail. "Let's just hope it won't come to that."

"My Lady, the Queen and Jack have arrived," a servant informed the woman who stood in the middle of a dark room using her fan to create almost violent gusts of wind. She glanced at the small boy sitting quietly behind her with a condescending look.

She spoke nasally. "Send them in."

The woman knew it would take a few more minutes for the royals to enter, so she used the small timeframe to whack the boy over the head, hissing threats in his ear. "I hope you will behave properly this time, Kyle. We don't want you to make the wrong impression again. Are we clear?"

The timid boy sat up rigidly, making sure his back did not touch the cushioned back of the chair. He then swallowed thickly and whispered, "Yes, mother."

"I didn't hear you. What did you say? You will never convince people of your authority when you keep being so quiet! Kings demand respect and voice their opinions loudly!"

"Yes, mother. I'm sorry, mother," the brunet tried again, but the woman's expression grew even more furious than before.

"Sometimes I do ask myself why I even keep such a hopeless brat around and take care of it," the countess growled. She pulled his ear in order to discipline him. "You. Will. Behave. Like a true. Prince."

The child let out a whimper like a slapped puppy as he feared for the worst. The moment the smartly-dressed woman folded her fan to use it, too, as an educational tool, the decorated door opened. This time it wasn't the servant, but the Queen and Jack of Spades.

Biting down her resentment towards the two royals, she curtsied deeply while her son bowed in the clumsy way children naturally did. What a waste of breath the boy was.

Arthur snapped his fingers and cleaned his monocle with a satin cloth as he walked up to the woman and greeted her. "Thank you for allowing us to steal some of your time again, Countess. As you know, this routine is of immense importance."

"Of course, your Majesty. How could I ever deny you time when the fate of this glorious kingdom is incredibly dear to me?"

Arthur saw how Yao glanced at him in suspicion, but the Jack brushed it aside. They both turned to the boy who had already retaken his seat. "Let's see…"

Yao unbuttoned the boy's jacket and removed his shirt, revealing almost sickly pale skin. Even the pasty Jack knew the child should get out more, but he chose not to address it. The royals and the countess regarded boy's back in thought. In particular they analyzed his right shoulder, where he bore the purple emblem of the Kingdom of Spades.

Arthur ran a gloved hand over the mark and pressed lightly. "Does it hurt?"

The boy shook his head, though the moment he looked over the Queen's shoulder and saw his mother's menacing expression, he changed his statement. "A little, your Majesty."

The blond withdrew his hand and sniffed. "Maybe the crown will appear in the next few weeks. Otherwise, we cannot declare him heir of Spades."

The countess lost her composure for a split second at this. "But your Majesty, the appearance of this little extra marking cannot hold such importance. How can we trust in fate more than human rationalism? Please see reason. Kyle, my dear son, is the eldest and therefore the only rightful heir."

The Queen only raised a furry eyebrow. "Oh, so you are of the notion that magic shall be completely ignored, then? I must tell you that only our patron saint, the Black Joker, can choose a successor, as unsettling as it is."

How dare this superstitious caterpillar tell me what to do?! The countess thought grimly. Her protest did not show on her face because her smile was stretched so tightly. "Of course not. But what if the Black Joker has just overlooked Kyle? He must be very busy, tending to his duties as… god…"

Somehow, Arthur doubted her faith. It was as if she did not believe in the supernatural at all! If only Tinkerbell knew about this… "We will soon have an heir. Be it Kyle or someone else, you mustn't worry about an unoccupied throne."

Yao took this as cue to excuse Arthur and himself. "We will see ourselves out. We do hope to see you attending the festivities in the ballroom downstairs, Countess. There are many people who would like to give you their condolences for your brother's death."

"Thank you, your Highness. My son and I will join you soon." The lady opened the door for the royals and curtsied again to see them off. She pushed down the handle quietly and locked the door. Then she imposingly advanced toward her son, who was cowering in fear, his heart pounding as if it might jump out of his chest in any moment.

"You will be the next king even if I have to tattoo a crown on your mark," she spoke coolly.

The first chapters are always the stiffest ones. Anyway, I hope you liked it and might give me some feedback. See you in the next chapter!