Hey everybody! I've decided to take a break form fanfic for a while. I just lost my interest in Hetalia and USUk, in general, but have recently been geting back into the whole fandom. I will continue my other stories, but I wanted to let this one out for a while. I hope for this to have 2 chapters (this being the intro.) It will be a short story, just to sort my thought out. It will also be in the Cardverse AU (my obession at current...the clothes are too die for...) It will include lots of USUK, some FrUK, and mature content *that means sex cough couugh* in later chapters. There's an M for a reason.

Don't like homo stories? Pissed that I'm calling Arthur a Queen when clearly he's a man? The backspace button is up above, dear.

Well, enough from me. Sit back and enjoy the show.

I apologize for any grammatical errors. I don't edit my work. I really should, eh?

-Sunny

Prologue

Alfred ran.

The sound of wind screaming in his ears and the feel of jagged pebbles stabbing at his feet did nothing to deter his speed. The young man continued to rip through the forest, his lithe body avoiding familiar gnarls and branches. Alfred ran, ran until the leaves and dirt and sky around him became a blur. Ran until his cheeks were rigid from the cold.

Anger. It was an expensive emotion, Alfred thought, as his legs began to give way. He had only felt the burning emotion for a breadth of a second, and yet was sure that he had been spotted at the village square. The Sentiment Soldiers would be at his front door in the morning to collect the fee. The thought almost provoked him to feel more angry, but he quickly checked himself and looked at the sky. The blueness of it was enough to clear anyone's mind in a matter of moments.

Why had he been running again? Alfred could not remember, as he flopped down onto the soft grass. He dug his fingers into the dry soil, his chest heaving in exhaustion. Had the summer air ever smelt so sweet? Shaking his head, he reminded himself that there were no seasons-not anymore, at least. Not in this realm. In the Kingdom of Spades, only warm, pleasant weather was to be tolerated. It had been a law passed on by the 15th King in the line.

The Kingdom of Spades was crumbling. Living expenses were rocketing at an alarming rate. An unknown source of infertility had ravaged the soils of the land, striking famine. Produces had to be imported from other Kingdoms faraway, some of which were struggling themselves and had no surplus to share. The tariffs collected at the borders were unreasonably high, and even then could not save the Kingdom of Spades' suffering. People were growing tired, working long hours and reaping little rewards. Despite the nice, mild weather, anger soon became abundant. Riots broke out, and crowds became harder and harder to control.

So, in desperate measures to distil what little order was left upon the land, the current King of Spades, Edmond the 16th, introduced a new law. It was a law so obscene, so blasphemous, that it struck a silence into the land for days and days. Nobody dared speak, think, or breathe the law. It was a ridiculous law, one that could never be passed!

But passed it was.

On September 1st of the Year of Famine at exactly the mark of midnight, all emotions were ruled to have taxes deducted from the person experiencing them.

Alfred could not remember how many coins he had paid to the Sentiment Soldiers already. If he tried to remember, he would grow angry, and if he grew angry, he would have to pay. It was a vicious cycle, one that had been cunningly calculated.

And where was the money going to? Wars, and more wars. Wars for this, Wars for that, Wars for the little scrap of unchartered land floating at the remote corner of the seas, Wars for border disputes. Alfred was so very tired of it all.

A rustle sounded by the brushes nearby, starling Alfred. Had the guards followed him all this way? had they sensed his thoughts? Were they here to punish him for his disobedience? An icy fear gripped at his gut.

The bush rustled again. Quickly, Alfred ducked behind the thick trunk of an oak tree, clutching the nodes of the bark tightly. He waited.

In one sudden motion, something large and brilliant and white darted from out of the leaves. Alfred felt his jaw drop, as he stared at the large stallion that had emerged from seemingly nowhere. Its mane was a molten gold, its flank heaving with tremendous power. Impatiently, it speared the earth with its sharp, black hooves.

What was even more captivating than the horse, however, was its rider.

Draped by a royal blue cloak and matching cavalier, the man mounted on the saddle looked otherworldly, with his untainted white gloves clutching steadily to the reigns. The man straightened his white tie, pinned by a giant, purple jewel in the center. He reached into his breast pocket and withdrew the most lavish watch Alfred had ever seen. The man had impressive brows, which furrowed as he checked the hour.

Then, his eyes looked up, and locked with Alfred's.

They were green, greener than the emeralds encrusted in the Royal Crown. Greener than the grass in the mid afternoon. Greener than any envy one could possibly feel. And Alfred knew, at that moment, that it was the Queen of Spades.

The queen was rumoured to possess the most captivating eyes-green eyes- in all of the land. Green eyes had been a royal trait, a gene thought to have been lost among the throne, only to have resurfaced in none other but the current queen. The Queen of Spades, the 16th.

Alfred felt sick to his stomach. No commoner was to look the queen in the eye, without paying a dreadful price. It was a crime far more severe than a thousand hours of anger. No longer seeing the point in hiding any longer, Alfred stepped out from his spot behind the tree, his heart quivering but his body erect. Any moment now, and the queen would call for help. The guards would come and take him away, and he would never be heard or seen from again. It would be like he never existed.

The Queen sat stone still. The silence in the air grew so thick that the ticking of the pocket watch echoed heavy between them.

Then, ruby lips parted, and a smooth, tenor came forth from the Queen's mouth. "What is your name, dear?"

Alfred hesitated. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple, to his chin. Responding would mean sealing his fate. Not responding, however, was not an option.

"Alfred. F Jones, your Majesty."

The Queen hummed thoughtfully, running his green, green eyes up and down the strange commoner before him. A smile curled at his lips, and a mischievousness glimmered in his eyes. The Queen placed a gloved finger over his lips. "Let's have no murmurs of this go around. What do you say?"

Alfred couldn't move. His tongue felt heavy, his eyes wide.

"Silly little boy. You amuse me so." The Queen sat up straighter, his stallion tossing its grand mane in a show. "Let's meet again. But for now," he lifted the reigns high over his head. "Farewell."

With a whip and a flurry of hooves and wind, the Queen was gone.

And Alfred was left with feelings of shock, fear, and desire raging inside his chest.

He would have to pay for all of this later. The longing in him did not wear off all day, even as he slipped into bed, and even as he drifted into a restless slumber to dream about green, green eyes and nameless face.

Reviews mean a world of a difference to me. Thanks for reading! I apologize for the somewhat slow start but rest assured it will pick up its pace.