Kitty-Kat Allie: I will be trying to update this once a week. *sweats* Oh God. Thanks to Lian-kun for being my awesome beta!

This and the next chapter are dedicated to scarlettrosa. You asked for more Spamano, so when this plot bunny came to smack me, I decided to go with it for you. GerIta is next, dahrlin'. I hope you read this!

Hetalia Fairytales

Chapter One

Ashes and Magic

Once there were two brothers. Their mother was very, very sick. Their father was very not in the picture. When their mother died, their father put them in the care of his friend, an older French gentleman who sold art. The younger brother's name was Feliciano. Although he could be klutzy and spacey, he was a sweet child blessed with a cute, cuddly face and personality. The other was Lovino. He was not so blessed. His features were sharper, his tongue acidic, and his language vulgar and crass. His temper was short and hot and took a long time to die out – if it ever did.

Neither, however, liked taking advantage of Francis's kindness. Their grandfather had left them a little money, but their father had squandered it away gambling and traveling. So Lovino took odd jobs around town – cleaning chimneys, working for a laundry, or blackening boots for pennies. As he grew older, he received harder jobs, and in turn, got leaner, stronger, and darker. His skin was stained with years of drudgery in chimneys, dirty streets, the harsh summer sunlight and harsh winter winds. But it was worth it when he could afford the tiny flat over the laundry shop so he and Feli could move out. It was worth it when Feli made them simple pasta with tomato sauce and delicious, rarely bought, expensive cheese. It was worth it when simple, cheerful Feli smiled as Lovino handed over the hard-earned pencils and canvas for Feli to draw on. Feli had a gift. He was an artist. Francis was ecstatic. When Feliciano became fourteen, Lovino fifteen, and handed over a finished portrait of an ugly, fat, and wealthy duchess's that made even that cow look rather pretty, Francis knew he'd hit the jackpot. Lovino did everything he could to help his baby brother be as freely artistic as possible. Francis sold it to the right people and looked for a patron for young Feli. It was the only help Lovino allowed from the sympathetic Frenchman who had come to love them.

Now, two whole years later, Lovino spent most days in backbreaking labor. Some days his only job was to go around town collecting ash from houses of the rich to make soap for the laundry shop. All day, he trudged up and down the cobbles, his leather boots worn to the heel, his clothes patched, frayed, and dirty, his tanned face black with ash mixed with sweat. He lugged his wagon full of buckets of cinders through town, gasping and panting and sweating and pissed off at the world, until he reached the little graveyard behind the town church. He would hide his wagon behind the little wooden building with its simple, unadorned cross and make his way through the tall weeds and crooked headstones to the farthest corner.

There, his mother lay. Her gravestone was barely a block of local flint, with the words "Isabella Vargas, wife, mother." No date. No lovely inscription that would bring to mind the beautiful, caring, wonderfully patient woman she had been. Before the stone, Lovino would fall to his knees and feel a sad peace fall over him. He cried for her here in the lonely graveyard, where no one could see his weakness, his desperate plea for anything better than this in his heart. Beside the gravestone was the little hazel tree that Feliciano had planted there. The only gift from kind Francis that Lovino had ever given thanks for. Recently, a little yellow bird had come to sing softly to him as he cried. Lovino ignored it most days. On good days, when some bread crumbs or raisins were left in his pockets, he would toss them onto the grass below the tree, as if tossing away trash, and watch from over his shoulder as the chubby bird ate it all up greedily. It was actually nice to have such a sweet little friend like that bird.

Lovino returned home late that night, shoulders and back aching, stomach rumbling, and filthy. The ash and road dust had mixed with his profuse sweating until his body felt caked in black, mucky paste. Tomorrow would be soap-making day and he would smell like smoke, a confusing, stifling mixture of herbs, and animal fat. Tonight, at least, his arms weren't limp, leaden burdens and he could still feel his fingers. Positive thinking, indeed, from our Mr. Pessimistic.

"Lovi~ Lovi~ Francis is here! He has great news! Fabulous news, ve~" Feliciano cried as soon as Lovino stepped inside. He reached down to pull off his boots, desperate for the limited relief the thin rug would give his aching feet.

"What is it, Feliciano? Please tell me you made something to eat. Today was ash day."

"Yes, I know. I made you some cold tomato soup and toasty bread! It was so hot today, ve~ Is that good?" Feliciano asked, hurrying over to help Lovino take off his raggedy coat.

"Yes, that's perfect, Feli," Lovino gifted Feliciano with a rare, soft smile. Feliciano paused, his own cheerful smile faltering. His fingers reached and brushed Lovino's face, just below his eyes.

"How is mother, Lovi?" Feliciano asked, as he always did when Lovino came home with reddened eyes or puffy eyelids. Lovino jerked away and changed the subject.

"Where's Francis? I thought you said he was here?"

"Ah, mon petit Ashputtel, you have come home. Tres bien. We must explain this news while dear Feli pours out some soup, oui?" Francis interrupted from behind Feli. Lovino scoffed, using his last reserves of energy to sneer in disgust. However, he followed the two into the tiny kitchen/sitting room. Feliciano hurried as he brought out soup, 'toasty bread' and a precious amount of coffee and milk before seating himself on the sagging couch/bed next to Lovino, grinning happily once more.

"Lovi, Lovi~ Francis believes he found me a patron," Feliciano informed him gaily. Lovino's eyes widened.

"Seriously? Francis, you seriously found someone interested enough in my brother?" Lovino felt his heart leap in joy. Finally, his brother's talent was recognized, finally his brother could make good money and live somewhere better than this hell. And hopefully, dear Lord, hopefully, Lovino could be with him. Even if it was only a cot in Feliciano's closet, Lovino wanted his own bed and clean clothes and warm food in the winter and boots that didn't blister – if only.

"Oui. A good friend of mine has a younger brother. His brother is a merchant and wishes to sell Feliciano's paintings with his trading. He will pay Feli handsomely for every painting sold. He hopes Feliciano may even travel with him, if his paintings sell well," Francis explained. His blue eyes softened as he continued. "This man is from a faraway country himself, and wishes Feliciano to return with him."

Lovino felt Feli grip his callused, dirty hands with his pretty, soft, pale hands.

"I want you to go with me! I couldn't possibly leave without you!" Feliciano cried out passionately, tears filming his lashes. Lovino looked up into Francis's knowing face as his heart broke.

"I can't do that, stupid! This guy is obviously going to pay for everything, there's no way he'd pay for me, too! I'd be extra baggage and useless. But if he's friends with you, Francis, how can I trust him alone with Feli? Feli is still young, and stupid, and annoying, too!" Lovino barked at Francis, getting to his feet and pointing his finger in Francis's face.

"Ohonhon, I said his brother was my friend. Ludwig feels the same about me as you," Francis corrected Lovino. Lovino felt a little better about that, but kept his frown.

"Feli will not travel around the world with some damned stranger. He'll bawl his eyes out and run like a scared cat," Lovino still protested. Feliciano sniffled, but didn't disagree. He knew that was exactly what he'd do.

"Ludwig has invited Feliciano to the Prince's balls next week. I am friends with the Prince, as I told you, and he invited moi and my friend and his brother to the balls. I have more than enough money to have Feliciano properly outfitted in time," Francis added when Lovino bit down on his lip.

Lovino struggled internally with allowing Francis's help and the need for Feliciano to go to those stupid parties everyone had been talking about lately. Stupid Prince and his stupid balls. If he couldn't find a damn princess on his own, did he have to drag the whole world into it? Finally, Lovino relented.

"Fine. You do it. You get him there. You get him out, Francis," Lovino ordered, hoping he wouldn't start crying then and there. God, it hurt to think his humble, simple wish couldn't be fulfilled. He would be stuck here in the ashes and soot all his life. At least his brother would be free. At least…

"NO! No, Lovi~ I can't! I can't go to a royal ball without you! I can't leave to a different country without you! Lovi, you can't make me! I love you, Lovi~" Feliciano burst out, surprising both Lovino and Francis. He flung himself on his brother, sobbing heavily. "I can't leave you here alone. With no Feli to make you soup, wash your hair, buy you groceries, and patch your pants? I will not leave you, fratello."

"Feli…" Lovino sighed and patted Feliciano head. "If you do not go, I will never speak to you again, never look at you again, and never hug you or sleep with you ever again." Feliciano gasped and stared up at Lovino's serious face, his eyes actually wide open. "So you might as well go," Lovino snapped, looking away and ignoring the hot flush on his face.

"Lovi~" Feliciano hiccupped. Francis stood up and laid a hand on Feli's shoulder.

"I will pick you up tomorrow morning. We have a lot of work to prepare you for the ball," Francis told him kindly. Feliciano looked over at him tearfully.

"Lovi can go to the ball, though, right? He can, can't he? Please, one more suit won't be too much. Lovi should dance, too, and eat yummy things and drink wine," Feliciano begged.

Lovino grimaced. "Like I want to. I can't dance at all and I don't have time to go to that bastard's house every day to learn. I also have to work every day. When the ball is over, I'll have to go straight to work without sleep. That's stupid." He looked down at Feliciano's crestfallen face and sighed. "Bring me back something from the balls, and tell me all about them, sheez. You have to have a lot of fun so I can have fun when you tell me about it," Lovino mumbled, rubbing the back of his head. Feliciano smiled sadly as Francis hid his own smirk.

"All right, Lovi~ I promise."

And so Feliciano was going to leave. Lovino and Feliciano slept together that night, awkwardly squished together on Feliciano's soft, warm cot. Long into the night, Lovino listened to Feliciano's gentle breathing and cried silently as he had long ago taught himself. He pressed his nose against Feli's hair, breathing in the sweet, familiar smell of his baby brother and held his narrow shoulders as tightly as he dared.

"I love you, Feli," he whispered, choking silently.

That night, he dreamed of dresses and wine and music and dancing with a stranger that would take him away to a world where he was wanted and could be truly at peace. At last…

The week flew by so fast; it was hard to believe it was already over. The balls were the very next night and the whole town was buzzing with excitement. The King had thrown open his doors to every single young woman who could wear a pretty dress and dance in an effort to find even a peasant-bride for his shiftless, fun-loving son. Lovino watched enviously as women with barely more than him made simple, often poorly sewn dresses for the balls. Even Claudette, that bitch from the bakery, had some gaudy, eye-insulting creation to wear. He sneered in disgust and bent down to pick up the waiting bucket of ash. He could make a better dress than that. Hell, he could make a better woman than that gossipy strumpet. Speaking of the devil- er, female, she was sauntering over to him, smirking unpleasantly.

"I hear your precious brother is going to the ball to fetch himself a husband. He obviously was too feminine to catch a wealthy woman," she cackled as a few other town girls watched on, waiting for the fun.

"I hear your brother is going to the ball to get drunk and piss on himself- oh, wait, wasn't that last night when he tried to flirt with the Mrs. Marchpane, the eighty-something widow? I heard she knocked him over and said she preferred real men," Lovino retorted, setting down the bucket in the wagon.

Claudette's face turned crimson red. "How dare you?"

"I already did. You're late on that dare, dumb bitch."

"Damned vermin!"

"Flapped-mouthed shrew!"

"You filthy orphan. Your father is a useless drunk and your mother was a penniless street wench, who do you think you are, acting like you're better than-"

His control had snapped. The loud, sharp slap echoed through the street. As his body shook, he snarled through clenched teeth, "You're a heartless, tasteless slut. You're not even worth the dirt under my mother's dead fingernails. You're pathetic."

His handprint was blazing red on her face, and she was too surprised to cry from the throbbing pain. Anger reached her brain faster, and with a sudden movement, she grabbed a bucket of ash and dumped it over Lovino's down-turned head. "Says the orphan covered in ash. You should just go to the ball like that and maybe the Prince will pay you to sweep his chimney out of pity!" Claudette shrieked as Lovino choked and coughed on ashes and soot. She ran across the street as people began to laugh.

Mortified, breathless, and desperate, Lovino ran blindly through the streets, hurrying to the graveyard. He left the wagon full of ash in the street and didn't look back. He reached the graveyard, vaulted over the shaky little gate and managed to stumble his way to his mother's grave, sobbing silently and tears tracking paths through the thick layer of ash on his face. He fell to his knees and collapsed over the gravestone, his mother's name digging into his cheek. His fingers clenched the grass and dirt and his shoulders shook wildly. He cried there for hours, the sun falling before he managed to pull himself together. Stuffy nosed, snot dribbling over his lip, eyes swollen and achy, and throat strained with the effort not to make a sound, he got to his knees and wiped at his messed up face with a dirty fist.

"Little Lovino, what do you wish for when you cry?" chirped a sweet, singsong voice.

Lovino glanced around, wild-eyed and red-faced. Who the hell-? From the little hazel tree, the yellow bird was watching him with curious black eyes. Lovino stared at the bird. The bird stared back. Lovino broke the gaze, shaking his head. Of course not.

"Little Lovino, I can help you. An angel with a silly golden wand gave me the power to help you when I explained how much you needed me. Please, Lovino, what do you want the most right now?" The bird hopped from foot to foot and fluttered his wings as he sang to Lovino.

Lovino felt his jaw drop. "That's not possible! You can't- There's no way you could-"

"Haven't you ever believed in wishes, in miracles, in magic, Lovino? Just make a wish and see," the bird pleaded. "What can it hurt just to make a wish?"

Lovino felt his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth – he was so thirsty, and hungry, and tired, and dirty. "I wish for a drink of wine, and not just any wine. The kind of wine they serve at the palace."

"I can do that! But you need a glass to drink wine and company to drink it with! Make a better wish!" the bird taunted.

"I wish for a five-course meal of the best pasta and tomatoes and cheese and I don't wanna get sick afterwards!" Lovino snapped.

"But your hands are so dirty! How can you possibly eat good food and not taste ash with a face and hands like yours? Make a better wish!"

"I wish for a bath!"

"You must have clean clothes to wear after a bath! A better wish!"

"I wish for shoes that never wear out!"

"But shoes are for dancing, Lovino! If you get new shoes, you must be able to dance in them! Your wish isn't good enough, Lovino!"

"How can a wish not be good enough, damn it? It's my wish! FINE! I want to go to that stupid ball! I want to drink wine and eat good food and dance and be clean and beautiful, all right? If you can make it so I can go to that damn ball, then do it!" Lovino finally bellowed.

"Yes, that's the right wish!" the little bird cheered. The little hazel tree shook and the bird sang. "Sing the wish, Lovi."

Lovino frowned, but cleared his throat. "Silver and gold, little bird, cover me. Little bird, I wish for silver and gold to cover me," Lovino sang in a low, clear voice.

As he sang those few, simple words, his voice changed, his pitch higher and softer. When he opened his eyes, he was kneeling before the tree and his hands were clean and soft and pale. His hair felt so heavy on his head and when he looked up, he felt strands brush his bare shoulders, his elbows and his back. He stood up slowly and realized he wore a beautiful pale silver dress that fell to his toes. Clean, elegant toes were covered in crystal glass. He walked mutely to the church's window, the little bird fluttering excitedly over his shoulder. The glass slippers bent and stretched with the movements of his feet; the glass felt like soft, aged leather that was cut perfectly for his feet. He reached the dim window and stared as his reflection that seemed to glow in the falling sunset.

A young woman stared back. She had his sharp chin and nose and cheekbones; his lips; his eyes, though her lashes were longer and fuller and curled perfectly. Her dark brown hair – his dark brown hair – fell in loose waves around her face, that single strand that never lay flat curling over her finely arched right eyebrow that perfectly matched her left eyebrow. Her naturally olive-toned skin was soft in the twilight and luminescent against the stunning silver dress. The wide-strap sleeves fell low on her biceps, baring her delicate neck and collarbones, but no cleavage was shown above the sweetheart neckline, though her breasts were high and full. The dress tapered tight at her waist and flared over her nicely rounded hips. It seemed to sparkle like stars when she shifted.

"I-I… Wh-Who… Is that me?" Lovino stammered in awe, watching her mouth move in the window along with his words, hearing the soft, high voice of a woman leave his lips.

"Yes. If you went as you are, you would be recognized. If your boss finds out you ran out on work to go dancing, you will get in trouble. You must leave at midnight, Lovino. The spell will only last that long," the bird warned. Lovino nodded.

"You're right," the girl replied. "I like it better this way. I'll be a stranger and no one will wonder why I'm there, or laugh at me later for trying to be better than I really am," she grimaced sadly. "Besides, I can't dance, so it's best if I'm led, not leading." Golden eyes fell on the little bird and a genuine smile curved his normally pouting mouth into something beautiful. "Thank you, little bird."

"Gilbird is my name. I will be waiting for you at midnight, Lovino! Trouble will happen if you stay longer!"

"All right, all right, leave me alone! WAIT, how do I get there?" Lovino quickly yelled after the retreating bird.

"Take the carriage rolling by."

Lovino turned and saw the carriage, which was making a ruckus rattling over the cobbles; he was surprised he hadn't noticed it earlier. He… She… raced towards the carriage and hopped on the back. When the carriage continued on (and made his teeth rattle), he breathed a sigh of relief.

Wait, she. Must think like a girl tonight.

The carriage drove past the castle and Lovino jumped off. Oddly, there wasn't soot or ash on her at all. She was completely clean and sweet-smelling. Her dress hadn't caught on anything or torn and her hair wasn't messed up as his inquisitive fingers showed him. Well, maybe not so odd considering the circumstances. Lovino shrugged and strode to the door, shoulders back, chin high, and heart thumping. She made it to the huge, sweeping staircase and a young page boy, younger than Lovino by a few years, jumped up to escort the strange, beautiful lady up the stairs. Lovino laid his hand on the boy's arm and held up her skirt in her fist, trembling.

"Don't be scared, milady. You're by far the most beautiful in the whole kingdom!" the boy assured her with a bright smile. His blond hair peeked out from under his hat and his big bushy brows were ridiculously adorable on his small face.

Lovino smiled tremulously, too nervous to reply. The boy left her at the entrance to the ballroom with a reassuring grin on his face.

Across the room, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo stood talking with his old friends Gilbert and Francis. They were all talking with Gilbert's brother, Ludwig, and Francis's protégé and former ward, Feliciano. They were laughing and joking and Feliciano was one giant bubble of cheerful. Three hours later, though, Antonio was bored out of his mind. He hated dances. He knew nothing about art. He hated dancing. Almost every woman was falling over themselves to get his attention. He hated dancing at balls where he was supposed to find a bride. And he wished he could go to bed because his head hurt.

And then she walked in.

Devastatingly beautiful. Dark skin, but much lighter than his own. Hair that fell in messy waves. Cheeks flushed red. Eyes as gold as the champagne he was drinking like water. A dress that glowed and glistened like the finest silver. She was bare of any face paint, jewelry, or escort.

No escort? That must be fixed, right away.

Antonio downed his champagne in one last gulp (the stuff really was like water compared the tequila he drank with his father) and handed his glass to a waiting servant. He left his friends without a qualm or a word and tried to hurry, without looking like he was hurrying, to the woman before a duke or someone snatched her up. She was looking so guileless, so overwhelmed, and lost; it made his normally smooth tongue twist up into knots. As he reached her side, her pale, golden eyes widened; eyelashes fluttered and made his gut churn. He had never been this nervous in his life. What were those golden eyes doing to him?

"I almost missed the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

She stared at him, confusion etched into her delicate features. He bowed and paused, waiting for her. She stared at him again, utterly baffled once more. Was this girl one of the poor girls that were allowed into these balls? But her dress was a masterpiece… He lifted his hand, palm up. She blinked and understanding dawned. She raised a trembling hand and set it on his – a small, soft hand that fit perfectly in his. He kissed her knuckles gently and she snatched her hand away, blushing brightly. She clutched her pretty hand to her bosom, confused, embarrassed, and still silent.

"I almost left, you see. I was bored and then you floated into my life like a moonbeam. Ah~ into the room, I mean," he smiled the normal charming grin that made other girls melt. She only glared.

"You're a rake, aren't you? I've heard about men like you. You're all bastards, rutting with women like animals, and sowing their oats as they like. Well, I'm here to enjoy my night, so leave me alone or I'll kick you where it really, really hurts," she warned, golden eyes flashing dangerously.

Antonio felt himself freeze. Not only did she not fawn all over him, but she didn't even recognize him. A bright, sunny grin that put his debonair smile to shame spread over his dark face and he laughed outright. The girl flinched and stared at him.

"I am not like that, I promise you. I only wish to dance," Antonio assured her easily when his chuckles ceased. She frowned up at him, nose crinkling and brows knitting together.

"If you bring me something to eat and some wine, then I will dance with you," she finally said. Antonio held out his arm, wide, carefree grin still on his face.

"It would be my utmost pleasure."

She reached out, then her fingers flinched away. "What's your name?"

"Anton-y. Antony," he repeated firmly after his first fumble. Idioto! For now, his identity was safe. As long as she didn't know he was the Crown Prince, she would still be herself and wouldn't turn into one of those simpering gold-diggers, he told himself.

"Antony?" she echoed in disbelief.

"And you?"

"Lovi-a. Lovia, si," she seemed to mutter to herself. Antonio felt his brows rise despite himself. He wasn't the only one with a secret, it seemed. Who was this girl?

"Who is that girl?" Gilbert asked Francis, nodding in Antonio's direction. Francis sighed.

"I do not know every girl in the kingdom, mon ami," Francis retorted in exasperation.

"Yeah, but you know most. Take a look, Fran," Gilbert nudged the Frenchman. Francis sighed again and looked over. His blue eyes opened wide.

"Why, I've never seen her before! Though, she does look familiar… no… perhaps not…"

"It's either one or the other! Hey, wait, he's dancing with her?" Gilbert gaped, Francis mirroring him, as Antonio led her to the dance floor. She looked a little angry, but he was laughing. She blushed like a debutante and stared at his chest as he led her into a waltz.

Lovino had never had a more dreamlike night. First, the most handsome man she'd ever seen had asked her to dance. Antony tricked her into dancing first, but eventually led her to the tables. It took all her willpower not to stuff herself silly. Instead, she lingered at the tables, trying a little bit of everything, finding favorites and going back for little tidbits of more. Antony gave her a glass of bubbly wine he called champagne. He spent the entire time she was there at her side, his gorgeous emerald eyes on her face. Lovino had always been partial to emeralds. His mother had had a small emerald ring her grandfather had given her. She had sold it to buy food for them when they were so small Feli couldn't even walk. But Lovino remembered that ring. He remembered the feel and taste of gold and emerald, because being a toddler, he put pretty things in his mouth all the time. His mother had laughed and let him put it on a leather string and swing it back and forth in the sunlight to watch it shine. Antony's face was dark, but many people in their kingdom were dark-skinned, including the royal family. His hair was wild and messy, but it suited his cheerful, handsome face perfectly. She had no idea the impression they were making on the rest of the crowd. Her eyes were only on Antony and the amazing food. He was talking about something, it didn't really matter. She just liked listening to him speak in his deep, accented voice. Then, she noticed the large clock. She dropped her tiny plate on the table and shoved her glass into Antony's hand. He grabbed it awkwardly, startled into stopping midsentence in his speech.

"I have to go!"

"What, but it's not even midnight!" he exclaimed as she picked up her skirt.

"Exactly!" Lovino retorted. She began to wind her way through the dancers, making a few squawk indignantly. Antony was close on her heels and she was too panicked to notice the mumbled "your Highness" directed towards him.

"Wait, Lovia, you'll be back for tomorrow's ball, won't you?" Antony called out as she burst off the dance floor and began to run towards the doors.

She didn't answer, but her heart screamed yes.

Lovino stumbled into the graveyard and fell on the gravestone just as the clock stuck the last bell for midnight. The clothes and shoes disappeared and suddenly he was him again. He grinned, thinking about the most precious night he'd ever had. If only he could see Antony again and talk to him again and look into those beautiful green eyes and handsome dark face, if only he could for the rest of his life. His grin slipped off his face when he realized a very crucial detail.

Antony had no idea who Lovino was. Antony saw only Lovia. If he ever saw Antony again, Antony would only see a dirty orphan boy with buckets full of ash.

His face fell into his hands. What had he done?

The next day, Lovino told himself not to go back to the graveyard. It was stupid. It was a disaster. He didn't want to fall in love with some cheerful buffoon only to break his own heart later. He was a guy, not the pretty girl he became when he wore the dresses. He wasn't Lovia. He didn't want to be Lovia. He would lose his brother and his dignity if he wanted something like that.

But it didn't stop him from wanting Antony. Handsome, kind, cheerful, charming Antony.

How could only a couple hours in that man's presence affect him that much? He had dreamed of him that night. A flash of scarlet made his heart pound until he realized it was just some woman's apron, not Antony's doublet. Cheerful laughter reminded Lovino of Antony, made him think how much more cheerful and lively Antony's laughter was. As he tipped ash into boiling vats and stirred the mixture inside while his eyes smarted and arms ached, he was really dancing the waltz with Antony again, Antony's hands around his and on his waist, laughing and smiling.

He trudged home that night at the usual time, an hour before sunset. For some reason, he swore he could hear Gilbird singing in his head. Make a better wish, Lovino! Make a wish~

"Lovi~!" sang out Feliciano's voice happily. Lovino glanced up, startled.

"F-Feli?" He couldn't help but smile as Feli wrapped his arms around Lovino's waist and snuggled his face against Lovino's chest, completely ignoring the God-awful smell coming from Lovino's ruined clothing.

"I promised to come tell you all about the ball, ve~! I also made you some dinner. Master Ludwig liked my art so much that he gave me an advancement, Lovi! I bought us pasta! Lots and lots of pasta and tomatoes and cheese! We'll feast and I'll tell you all about the ball tonight!" Feliciano rambled on. Lovino realized his whole apartment did indeed smell like a feast and his mouth watered.

"Wine, too, Feli?" Lovino asked hopefully. Feli laughed and shook his head.

"Something better, ve~ I tried it at the ball last night and I thought you should have some, too. It's called champagne."

Lovino's face blanched white, his eyes suddenly dark. You've never had champagne? It is delicious, si? Antony's beautiful accented voice sounded in his head. Luckily, Feliciano wasn't looking in his direction as he rambled on about the ball and the food and piled their plates high.

"I have to go again tonight. Master Ludwig told me I must. He's very nice, but most women are scared of his face. I was kinda scared of his face, too, but he's very handsome and kind. I think he is shy. Like you, Lovi~ Si, just like you." Feliciano laughed. Lovino forced himself to smile, though it wasn't too hard seeing Feliciano so happy.

"So, you won't have a problem traveling with him?" Lovino queried as he sat on the couch. Feliciano paused in his constant motion. He looked over his shoulder, his big brown eyes shiny.

"I have a problem leaving you, Lovi. I want to know you're happy before I leave," he said more seriously than he had ever said anything. Lovino blushed and stared down at his blackened hands. Happy. I was happy last night, being Lovia with Antony. "Lovino, let me send you money. Let me send you some of what I earn, so you don't have to work like this. I won't be here anymore, so you can find something better."

Make a better wish!

"S-Shut up! It's your talent, it's your money. Don't pity me, damn it!" Lovino snapped.

Feliciano sighed and handed over the plate tagliatelle pasta covered with a creamy tomato sauce. After a few moments of eating, Feliciano began to talk about the ball again. Lovino let him, enjoying his pasta and tomato sauce, and envisioning that night all over again. When Feliciano cleaned up and left for the ball, Lovino knew exactly what he was going to do.

He was panting heavily when he reached the tree; Gilbird was waiting for him, preening downy yellow feathers.

"I brought some garlic bread for you," Lovino told Gilbird as he set the bread on the grass below the tree. Gilbird tweeted sweetly, but only watched him with bright black eyes. Lovino blushed slightly, and closed his eyes. "Silver and gold, little bird, cover me. I wish for silver and gold to cover me, little bird."

"Have a good time, Lovino," Gilbird trilled as Lovino felt cool silk fall over his face.

This time, the dress was bright gold with real gold thread making beautiful intricate embroideries of four-petaled lilies on the skirt. The neckline was round and just a little lower than the night before, but still more modest than the popular fashion. The sleeves were small puffed cap sleeves, the bodice high under her breasts with a darker gold ribbon wrapped around her ribs, and the skirt a long, loose curtain to her toes. Her hair was caught up in a golden net, though gently curling strands were free to frame her face. Once more, she was jewelry- and paint-free, which Lovino was fine with. Jewels and face paint would just feel weird. On her slender feet were the strange glass slippers that felt as though made of cool, supple leather. She grinned up at Gilbird as the sound of wheels on cobbles echoed from the street nearby.

"Thank you!" she called as she picked up her skirt and ran like a deer to the carriage.

The ball was even lovelier than the night before. Streamers of gold paper and paper lanterns decorated with white and gold lilies bedecked the grand ballroom. The tablecloths were all intricate white lace and gold thread that Lovino couldn't help but stroke with his fingertip in awe. Even the platters under the food were of gold and shining white porcelain with lilies painted on them. As Lovino traced the lace absently and scanned the room full of dancing couples, a movement out the corner of her eye caught her attention. She felt her heart beat rapidly.

"Lovia! You did come. I was afraid you would not," Antony said as he approached. Lovino glanced away, red-faced and frowning as she crossed her arms over her breasts.

"I didn't come for you. I came for the food," she muttered.

"Of course, Lovi~" Antony laughed. Lovino gasped and took a step away from Antony.

"What did you just call me?" she demanded.

"It is just a pet name, do you not like it?" Antony queried, looking confused at her reaction. She pressed her hand to her heart and then, slowly, shook her head.

"M-My brother calls me that. I was… I was startled that you used that name," she explained slowly. Antony smiled.

"Ah, then should I not then?"

"I-It's… It's fine. I don't care. It's just a damn name," she mumbled, her cheeks red.

Antony grinned and then bowed low, extending his hand. "Before we dine, would you like to dance, mi Lovita?"

Lovino gulped and, against all her better judgment, she laid her hand in his once again. Their bare skin was warm and a fizzle seemed to spread in her blood from his touch. Her eyes flew to his, shocked, only to meet a mirroring look on his dark face. His fingers wrapped tightly around her hand and he pulled her close. Within moments they were out on the dance floor, eyes never leaving the other's face, shocked and mesmerized by this feeling growing between them. She almost jumped out of her skin when his other hand settled on her waist. He smiled softly down at her, his beautiful eyes more like gems than ever as they shimmered in the candlelight from the colossal chandeliers above them. Lovino had never learned to dance, but dancing with Antony was like floating. He led her like an expert, and her own natural grace and cleverness made it easy for her to follow along, growing more confident with each song.

When they were both tired of dancing many, many songs later, Antony led Lovia to the dining tables. He then led her out to the terraces so the warm summer night air could cool them. It had become stifling in the ballroom since so many couples had crowded into the room. Lovia had heard whispers about the Prince dancing with some mysterious beauty, but she was too caught up in her own romance to care about the dumb Prince's love life. As long as his lack thereof kept the balls coming, then Lovia hoped the Prince never found his bride. As long as there were balls, there was Antony. And dancing with him. They strolled the gardens talking about mundane things. Their favorites colors, cats or dogs (Antony preferred cats, just like Lovia), whether milk was good (they disagreed, which was actually kind of fun to argue about), beaches or snow, forests or mountains, summer or winter, their favorites foods, and favorites things to do on lazy days. Lovia mostly talked about things she wished she could do if she had lazy days.

"Will you come back again, Lovi? For tomorrow's ball?" Antonio asked as he helped Lovia up onto the ledge around the large glittering fountain.

The statue was, of course, that of a man and woman dancing as water foamed around their ankles. Carnations were clutched in their entwined hands. Carnations were the symbol of the royal family. Lovia looked down at Antony, who still held her hand and was looking up at her with dark, gleaming eyes. She shivered slightly as the night breeze blew over the cool water of the fountain to breathe over her bare shoulders. Antony let go of her hand and grasped her waist. With little effort, he swung Lovia off the ledge and down to the ground. Tonight, he wore a dark blue coat over a simple, white lawn shirt that tied at the low neckline. She only knew about the lawn shirt, because he took the coat off then and dropped it over her shoulders. She clutched it to herself, surprised and gratified. She could still smell him on the coat and feel the lingering warmth of his body. Suddenly, she laughed, overcome with this emotion that he had built inside her. Happiness unlike anything Lovia had ever felt before shone inside her, as bright as the gold gown she wore. He grinned with her, confused, but delighted.

"As long as there are balls, Antony, I will come. As long as there's you to dance with," she replied, a smile lingering on her pretty lips. She looked like an angel, smiling and shining in the moonlight and Antony felt an overwhelming need to touch her, hold her close, kiss the laughter that still hung on her lips. Then, her eyes widened. "Oh no! The time! I must go!" she exclaimed, as if afraid.

"Wait, no, Lovia! Please, don-Ah!" Antony attempted to run after her as she hurried around him, but she threw his coat in his face as hard as possible. Not only did those stupid gold buttons hurt, he was blinded long enough for her to have reached the steps that led back into the castle.

"Tomorrow night, Antony!"

"Si, tomorrow," Antonio whispered to himself, his fists gripping the linen of his coat in tight fists. "I will not let you run tomorrow, mi novia."

Lovino spent the next day making even more soap cheerfully. He couldn't seem to do enough. Time was moving so slow that everything couldn't get done fast enough for him. His boss and few fellow workers were astonished at the change in him. Still dirty, still ragged, still painfully thin, he was suddenly happier than they had ever seen him. He sang while he stirred the soap, laughing like a loon when he choked on the smoke and stink. He cursed at people only half-heartedly when they messed something up. He seemed to dance and weave between cauldrons and down the street in town and shared his little piece of salami with a little dirty cat. He even petted the cat and called it "mi bella." Because of his good mood, the rest of the men were also more cheerful, whistling along with Lovino's singing, clapping each other on the back when they got something right, helping out the person who had blundered, and all eating together like friends and telling jokes on their lunch hour. Most figured it must be because of Lovino's little brother's good fortune. Everyone in the town had already heard about Feliciano packing his few belongings and taking them to a fancy hotel close to the castle where his new patron was staying. Though surly and mostly disagreeable to everyone else, Lovino had always been a doting brother, as much as he tried to hide it. This reason seemed plausible to the rest and many kindly matrons decided that day, as Lovino graced them with a rare smile and called out "Buongiorno," to bring him little meals and some wine when Feliciano was gone.

At sunset, Lovino fairly flew to the graveyard when Feliciano left. He swore his feet didn't even touch the ground, for his sore, tired feet didn't feel the cobbles through the soles of his worn boots. He leapt over the fence and wove through the graves to the little hazel tree. Gilbird flew to meet him and Lovino chuckled as the soft, little bird cuddled against his cheek and fell to his shoulder.

"This is the last ball, Lovino. Are you sure you want to go again?" Gilbird peeped in his ear.

Lovino smiled as rubbed his cheek on Gilbird's head gently. "Even if it's one more night, it's still one more night with him. I have to see him one more time," Lovino answered as if Gilbird knew exactly who he was talking about. Gilbird asked no more questions, only chirped in reassurance and flew to the little hazel tree.

"Silver and gold, little bird, cover me. Silver and gold and green as emeralds that match his eyes, little bird, please cover me," Lovino sang, his voice becoming sweet and high as he neared the end of his plea.

The last dress was gleaming green, dark and shining at once, just like the eyes Lovia loved so well. She spun, arms outstretched, as the gold and silver thread glittered in the sun's setting rays. The silver-embroidered vines and leaves seemed to grow all over the bodice and skirt; thin gold thread outlined the shapes and traced delicate veins in the leaves. She wore a white lawn blouse with tight, long sleeves under it, the hems embroidered green with the same design on her skirt and bodice. The bodice was a tight corset that tied in the back with matching green strings. The skirt fell from beneath the corset, sweeping and loose and twirling easily around her as she spun.

"Remember to be back by midnight!" Gilbird warned. Lovia nodded and ceased her spinning.

"Thank you so much, Gilbird. For everything you've done for me," Lovia said earnestly. Gilbird merely trilled gaily in response.She waved to Gilbird and rushed to the street as the carriage rumbled her way. Gilbird watched her go, black eyes knowing and wise.

Antony was waiting at the top of the castle steps as Lovia walked up the wide, sweeping drive. He rushed down the steps to meet her, looking bewildered. He reached out and she took his hands without second thought. A blush blossomed over her face as he kissed the knuckles of both of her hands.

"You look wonderful, mi Lovita, but where is your carriage? Did you walk here?" Antonio asked, his brows lowered. Lovia grinned.

"Is it so odd? Come, Antony, let's dance!" Lovia pulled him towards the stairs, eager to begin the night. The earlier it did, the longer she would have Antony all to herself. How like him to be waiting for her, as if he could read her mind.

"Si, si, mi chica guapa, let us dance," Antonio chuckled, letting her drag him forward. He would have all the time in the world to get his answers if he got his way tonight. Let her have her mystery now.

They danced and ate and she was smiling and laughing the whole time. Antony never once caught the dark, desperate look in her eyes when she looked up at the clock. He never saw the hungry longing in her golden eyes as she gazed up into his grinning, laughing face. He never noticed her fingers brush his bare wrist, or linger on his palm, as if memorizing the warmth and feeling of his skin. Her golden eyes traced the shape of his face, his mouth, his eyes, the way his hair fell over his forehead and into his brilliant-colored eyes as often as she dared. But she kept the smile on her face, the laughter in her voice, and danced as gracefully as she could.

They stopped to drink champagne and eat a little, when Antony cleared his throat. She looked up at him curiously, her mouth full of bruschetta. She had kept him out on the dance floor for most of the time there, so both were starving and slightly sweaty. She knew her time was close, but she just wanted a few moments more. A few moments more of being next to him.

"Would you like to meet my friends, Lovi?" Antony asked, rubbing the back of his neck. "They've been bugging me about who you were and I never hide anything from them. Please, say you'll come meet them," he begged with big, puppy-dog eyes. Lovia blinked and then looked away before he could see the pain in her gaze.

"What next, Antony, your parents?" she scoffed angrily after she swallowed the food in her mouth. It suddenly tasted like sand.

At his pause, she glanced back at him and felt ice fill her veins. He was blushing lightly and pushing his fingers together. His green eyes met hers, looking adorable and hopeful. "Si?"

"Antony!" she exclaimed in horror.

"But, mi Lovita, you must realize how I feel about you! No one… There is no one like you! Say you'll meet them all for me," Antony protested, grabbing her wrist. "You must feel the same, you must."

"Don't tell me what I must feel or do!" Lovia snapped, tearing her arm away. "I'm leaving!" Feeling tears brim in her eyes, she stomped her foot angrily. "You ruined everything, you damn fool! Damn you! Damn you!"

She spun away, leaving him gaping in confusion as she ran through the room. She bumped into a few people, heedless of the dancers and other guests in her haste to get away. She pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes, gritting her teeth so hard they squeaked. She didn't hear the outraged protests and the later profuse apologies and 'your Highness' as Antonio chased after her. She couldn't hear any of it over the loud sobbing in her mind. She wouldn't cry here; she wouldn't cry aloud. Nevernevernever. She pushed through the castle doors, tears falling on her cheeks. She was almost gone. Almost… almost.

"Lovia!" Antony shouted as his hand wrapped around her wrist again. He jerked her back and she half-turned with the strength of it. She kept on her feet and she glared up at him through a film of tears.

"THAT HURT, YOU IDIOT!" she bellowed. Antony flinched, but kept his grip on her wrist.

"I won't let you run, Lovi," he whispered. Her eyes widened and she tugged and pulled to get free, but he only wrapped his other hand around her free wrist.

"Let me go!" Lovia demanded.

"No. Lovi, don't you understand what I'm asking? I want you to marry me. I want us to dance together every night; laugh together every day. I don't want you to disappear at midnight like a dream. Be my wife, Lovi, please," Antony asked, his green eyes boring into hers.

She laughed harshly, without any humor. "Your wife? Antony, you have no idea what you're asking. You don't know me. You could never love me if you knew what I really was."

"Lovi, can you really doubt this? What happening between us is magic-"

"Everything is magic! And nothing lasts, Antony! It'll all be over tomorrow and I'll never see you again! You'll stare me in the face and never know it's me, Antony. Please, let me go. I can't marry you!" Lovia interrupted wildly, trying again to pull away.

"Can't or won't?"

"Is there a difference? I can't marry you!"

"Whatever is holding you back, let me help you rid yourself of it. Anything, Lovi, I'd do anything to be with you. I love you," Antony swore passionately, finally releasing her wrists to capture her face.

She should've run then, but those three words froze her. In the moment of her weakness, he pressed his lips to hers.

It was wonderful. Like everything bright and good and beautiful. Like promises always kept. Like freedom and happiness. Like fire that burned in her blood and made her heart beat faster and her head spin. In the middle of all that brightness, something was wrong. Antonio felt it in his heart. Though her lips were everything he ever thought they'd be, there was something wrong. Lovia tried to ignore it, push it away and just pretend she didn't know why, but he broke away from her. His brows were low over his nose, green eyes confused and pained.

"Why does it feel like that? When I look into your eyes, everything is right and perfect, so why does your kiss feel wrong?" Antonio muttered, searching her face as if for an answer written there.

She felt anger replace all other emotions. She raised her hand, and before he could see it, she slapped him as hard as she could.

"I hate you, Antony! I hate you!" she screamed at him as tears streamed down her face.

The clock struck the first bell of midnight. Horrified, Lovia gasped aloud. Her golden eyes widened on Antony's face as the tolling seemed to vibrate within her. She turned around and began to race down the stairs to the drive. Not good, you idiot, not good! She screamed at herself.

"Lovia, please, wait, come back! Lovia!"

Antonio pressed his hand to his cheek and tried to follow, but his foot stepped on something hard and awkwardly shaped. He stumbled down the stone steps, barely managing to keep from crying aloud at the pain of it. His wrist felt strange and hot, and his whole body ached as he landed at the bottom of the steps. He curled in on himself even as his mind screamed for him to get up, to continue running after Lovia, catch her before she disappeared forever. A loud cry of horror came from the doors behind him and several servants and guests, including his friends, hurried down to meet him. He was bruised and bloody in a few places, and his wrist was probably broken, but he was conscious. Francis and Gilbert knelt on each side of him, anxious frowns on their faces.

"What did I trip over?" Antonio asked, groaning.

"This!" Feliciano cried out, holding up a glass slipper. "Ve~ How lovely. Look, Master Ludwig, it's pure glass!"

"Hn. It looks like it. What kind of idiot wears glass shoes?" Ludwig wondered in disgust.

"The kind of idiot I'm going to marry," Antonio retorted, grimacing as his friends helped him to his feet. "I want the girl that fits in that slipper without it breaking found. I am going to make her my princess, if I have to spend the rest of my life looking for her."

Francis and Gilbert looked over the top of his bowed head, startled. Antonio was utterly serious. Whoever this Lovia was, Antonio wasn't going to forget her any time soon, if ever.

Later that night, Gilbert was leaning on his balcony outside the room in the palace he normally slept in when visiting his powerful friend. How the hell were they supposed to find a single girl using only a glass slipper? He guessed they could go to all the cobblers in the kingdom and asked if any had sold shoes like that. Or maybe they should go to glassblowers? What if they were a family heirloom? Oh God, this was going to be impossible! Who the hell wears glass slippers? Gilbert groaned and buried his face in his hands. He looked up, grinning widely, as a soft peep echoed over the grounds. A tiny yellow bird fluttered towards him.

Gilbird had left the graveyard shortly after Lovino had arrived, breathless, red-faced, and sobbing wildly. The boy had looked even worse than three nights ago when he first made his wish. He could only sob Antony's name and 'I hate you'. None of it made any sense to the poor little bird, but he knew what he could do to fix it. Lovino had obviously fallen in love with the Prince like Gilbird thought would happen and it was time for his happily ever after.

Gilbert held out his hand and stroked the little bird's head softly. "You've been gone for a while, little friend. Have you finished what you wanted to do?"

"Almost. Gilbert, you must help me. The person Antonio loves is waiting for him," Gilbird chirped. Gilbert's eyes widened, then, he smirked.

"Kesesese~ It was you. You were playing matchmaker again, weren't you?"

"Will you help me or not?" Gilbird demanded. Gilbert chuckled his odd chuckle again.

"It happens to be my job to find this girl. Of course I'll bring Antonio to her," Gilbert agreed.

"But you see, that's the problem. This person isn't who you think she is," Gilbird began. By the end of his tale, Gilbert was laughing so hard that tears were rolling down his face.

"You really are something, Gilbird."

Today was blackening day, which suited Lovino's mood. He was exhausted. He had cried until the wee hours of the morning, too tired to even eat, and had to drag himself to work. The townspeople were wondering what had come over him, but, fortunately, made no comments. Lovino stayed in the back of the cobbler's shop, blackening the pile of waiting boots, getting covered in the stuff in the process. Despite being a sit-down job, it was still one of his least favorites. Mostly because the blackening was impossible to get out of his clothes, but also his back was always cramped at the end of the day. The bell rang and Lovino sighed as he got to his feet. The cobbler was already busy talking with a couple about making child-size boots for their toddler, so it was Lovino's job to greet the new customers. He walked out from the back, stuffing the blackening rag in the back pocket of his trousers, and stopped dead. Feliciano and Francis were in the shop, but so was Antony, some huge blonde guy hovering near Feli, and a white-haired guy with blood red eyes and a little yellow bird on his shoulder.

What was Gilbird doing with Antony and Feli and… who are those people? Lovino gaped at them, flabbergasted.

"We're here to find the lady that fits in this slipper," stated the white-haired guy. He pulled out the glass slipper and Lovino clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his gasp. He had noticed one slipper had remained, it was in his little house right now, but didn't know he had lost the other at the damn castle the night before. "We believe she is working here."

"I'm sorry, milord, but no lady works here. Just me and Lovino who blackens the boots once a week are here. In fact, this boy is Lovino's brother, just ask him," the cobbler answered, bowing in Feliciano's direction.

"L-Lovino?" Antony stammered, eyes widening. Lovino winced and pressed himself against the wall to hide, yet too bewitched by the man's presence to actually leave. His eyes drank in the sight of Antony hungrily. The bruises and bandages made guilt fill him, but Lovino watched on.

"I told you that! But Master Gilbert said his little birdie told me to bring you here! Lovi~ Lovi, where are you? Ve~ Where is he?" Feliciano pouted. Antony stared at him, eyes wide.

"Lovi? You call him Lovi?"

"Ve~ Of course, why?"

"I must meet this Lovino," Antonio told the cobbler, his voice trembling slightly.

"Lovino! Come out, his Highness is here, he wants you to come out," the cobbler called out, looking baffled.

Lovino flinched. He couldn't possibly go out there-wait, what? His Highness? Lovino took a deep breath and kept his eyes to the floor as anger coursed through him. Lying bastard! He lied to me! 'Antony' indeed, Lovino growled silently, walking into the room. He stood behind the counter and nodded his head rudely.

"Lovi~ There you are!" Feli exclaimed. Ludwig's hand on his shoulder kept him from running to Lovino's side.

Antonio stepped forward, eyes still wide. The boy standing behind the counter did remind him of Lovia. The same color hair, the same sharp, delicate features, the same mouth curved down into an angry frown, the same stray curl, the same height. He was darker skinned, rather dirty and stained black on his hands, and much thinner, but… Antonio's heart sped up.

"Lovi~ I know you're here! I've come to finish your wish!" Gilbird sang as he flew from Gilbert's shoulder. Lovino squawked out loud and then laughed as Gilbird rubbed against his cheek affectionately.

"You stupid bird! What are you doing, huh?" Lovino gasped.

"Lovi," Antonio breathed. The same laughter and smile.

The boy glanced at him, eyes wide and frightened and longing, before he glanced away, frown returning as he petted the little bird. "Only my brother calls me that. Who the hell are you?"

"Lovino! Manners! This is the Prince!" the cobbler protested.

That fraction of a second when both their eyes met, Antonio knew. This boy, who knows how or why, was the same person he had fallen in love with. Who else could have eyes as gold, as beautiful? Who else could sear straight into his soul and make everything feel right?

Antonio crossed the room in long strides. Lovino jumped and started to back away, fear flooding his face. He was stammering something like 'Wait, you bastard,' but Antonio ignored it. He cupped Lovino's face, the cast on his wrist rough on Lovino's skin. Trembling gold eyes stared up into his and Antonio smiled.

"I said I would find you, mi corazon. No matter what you look like on the outside, your eyes will always be the same," Antonio said simply. Lovino's lips parted in surprise. Antonio took it as an invitation.

He kissed his Lovi again, and immediately knew why it was wrong before. Before, somewhere in his heart, he had felt the lie; the disguise Lovino had hidden within. Lovia was fiction, a mask on the beautiful boy inside. It was Lovino Antonio had loved all along, not the guise he wore. And now, with all guises stripped and only truth between them, he kissed his Lovino until they were breathless. The taste of Lovino was like nothing he'd ever imagined. Antonio groaned into his mouth and gathered Lovino closer, pressing them as close as they could be. So thin and sharp, this Lovino. Arms stronger than Lovia's wrapped around his neck and pulled him down, eagerly meeting him kiss for kiss. They parted reluctantly. Hazy gold eyes gazed into green.

"B-but…" Lovino started.

"Marry me, Lovino. Today, right now. Be mine, princess, prince, whatever you want. Don't run from me again," Antonio interrupted, pressing his forehead against Lovino's.

"I-I can't-"

"Can't or won't?"

Lovino blinked and then smirked. "Won't."

"Why not?" Antonio asked, smiling. He reached up and grabbed Lovino's hands. He brought them around to his face and paused. They were rough, callused, and blackened with grease. He loved them even more than Lovia's soft, little hands. These hands made more sense for his Lovi- his incorrigible, stubborn, lovely Lovino. He kissed Lovino's knuckles and smiled at Lovino. "I know the truth now. There's nothing to hide."

"You lied to me. Apologize, your Highness," Lovino attempted to snarl, but his anger was already a distance dream. Seeing Antonio see him, and kiss even his filthy, work-hardened hands, had softened the shield around his heart.

"A thousand apologies, mi corazon. I will never lie to you again. I will apologize every day –breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and every night we spend together before we make love. Will that be enough?"

"Hell no, but it'll do for now," Lovino muttered, blushing brightly.

"Then, you'll marry me?" Antonio pressed. Lovino looked away, pouting and embarrassed.

"I'm not wearing a dress."

Antonio burst out laughing and swept Lovino up off his feet. The indignant squawk was cut off by Antonio's lips. He couldn't get enough of kissing his novia. Lovino wrapped his arms around Antonio's neck and kissed him in return, fighting the urge to smile and kick Antonio's head. They lived

Happily Ever After

A/N: Sooo, these will all be about this long. I hope y'all don't mind. XD If y'all want a specific fairytale or couple, say so in a review and I'll try to make it happen. I already have at least seven more chapters planned out. I reply to every review, so I'll make sure you know if your request will be fulfilled.

NEXT UP, GerIta.