In the silence of the huge palace, the teenager slowly walked down the hallways. It was the earliest hours of the morning; even the servants weren't awake yet. Careful not to make any sound, he stepped out of the wooden doors, trembling lightly as the cold autumn wind hit his skin and ruffled his hair. Running, he made his way to the stables, opening the doors and heading inside, sighing in relief at the warmth.

Since his arrival had not been noticed, he stood there silently for a moment. He watched the few years older stableman do his work. He watched the long blond locks sway as he moved, even though they had been tied up on a pony tail, he watched how the muscles of the man's back moved when he threw some hay to the horses.

As he realized it was going to be very awkward to explain why he had been staring, he cleared his throat, letting the other know he was there.

"Arthur…", the Frenchman's voice was so soft, so loving as he said the name of the younger male He dropped what he was doing and walked over to the British one, pulling him into his arms, embracing him tightly yet still so gently.

"What are you doing awake so early?" he murmured as he pressed a gentle little kiss on the other one's forehead. And even though Arthur was furrowing his brow a bit and blushing, acting like he didn't want to be in the other's arms, he couldn't help but admit quietly to himself that he was happy like that, feeling so safe and loved.

"I wanted to come and see you…", Arthur said quietly, slowly placing his head on the other one's shoulder, breathing in the soft scent of the Frenchman. Now as he had his face hidden, he allowed a soft smile spread onto his light pink lips, his eyes falling closed as he just rested there, feeling so relaxed.

A soft chuckle left the Frenchman's lips and he gently nuzzled his nose into the other one's hair. "How sweet of you", he whispered, keeping the Briton close to him. "Did you make sure no one saw you coming here?" Of course he knew that the other knew how to be careful, but he wanted to make sure. Arthur's father was the king, and he would not hesitate punishing him if he'd find out that Arthur had been visiting him secretly. After all, it was denied by law for a man from first class to love servant, and the fact they were both men didn't make things any better.

Arthur sighed, nodding as he pressed a sweet, innocent kiss on the skin of the taller male's neck. "I'm not a child, Francis; I know how to stay quiet about this. I don't want anything to happen to you…", he whispered, running his hand down the other one's chest.

"Je sais, je sais… I just… I do not want to lose you", Francis murmured as he held the other one close to him.

As they stood there in the middle of the stables, arms wrapped around each other, bodies so close to one another; they seemed to lost the track of time. All they could think about was the scent of the other, the feel of their lips pressing against each other into the sweetest kiss.

"Sir Arthur! Sir Arthur? Where are you?"

Eyes widening in fear and panic, the Briton pulled away from the other's arms, but too late. The guard had already slammed open the doors to the stables, the other guard following right behind. Their eyes seemed to be filled with the fire of fury, but not towards Arthur, of course not.

"Francis Bonnefoy, you are under arrest!"

One of the guards twisted the stableman's arms behind his back, locking them there and so making sure that there was not even the slightest chance for him to escape. Francis didn't protest; only a small groan of pain left his lips. The other guard kicked him in the knees, making him fall down on the ground with a rather loud thump.

"Francis! Let him go! That's an order!" the prince yelled, scaring the horses of the stable, but not seeming to have any kind of effect to the guards.

"I am really sorry, your highness, but you know the laws. This filthy stableman is not allowed to touch a noble like you. And you, your majesty, most certainly should not be here seeing him."

With a hopeless look in his eyes, Arthur searched for the other man's deep blue eyes, hoping to find some comfort and answers from the calm blue they always held.

"Arthur, please, just go… I don't want you to get into any trouble", Francis whispered quietly, only to get one of the guards to hit him hard at his chin.

"It's your highness to you, servant. Scum like you should not talk like that to an aristocrat", the guard spit, and the Frenchman lowered his head. The young prince hesitated for a small moment, but then, as he saw the pleading look in his lover's eyes, he left the stables, running into his room. It was entirely his fault; if only he would have been careful and left the stables early enough, nothing would have happened.

Francis was taken to the cells. It was dark in there, the walls so wet that there was moss growing on them. There was hardly any light, and the little that there was came from torches; there was no natural light to tell the prisoners what time of the day it was.

There weren't that much of prisoners. It was not the place where the men and women would spend the rest of their sentence. They were just kept there until their trial. And after the trial, the luckiest ones were set free, whereas those who were condemned were sent to do different kinds of manual labor. From what Francis had heard, it was very different from the normal manual labor that the free people did; the prisoners worked from the very start of the day to when the sun would set.

The Frenchman lifted his look from the stone floor as he heard steps coming down the stairs that led to the cells.

"Arthur, you idiot… What are you doing here? Your father is going to kill you", Francis whispered quietly, though he reached his hand through the bars, soon feeling Arthur's soft, gentle fingers intertwine with is own ones, bringing him the comfort that he needed.

Arthur gently pressed against the bars, reaching his free hand through them to gently stroke the Frenchman's hair. He brought his head closer to his, pressing a small kiss on his lips. "You don't have to worry for me, love…", he whispered as they parted, gazing into the other's eyes. He hated the fact he was not able to hug Francis and feel his arms around him. "My father said I was allowed to come here once…"

'To see me one last time…' Francis found himself thinking. It was such a horrible thought not to be able to see his beloved Arthur ever again. But tomorrow, after his trial, it was most probably going to be true.

"Mon amour…", Francis whispered softly, moving his hand to gently stroke the man's cheek, one finger running across his lips, feeling them as gently as he only could. He was going to miss Arthur so much, he knew he would not be able to move on. Arthur had been his first love, and he was sure he was his only one as well. It was so hard to picture himself with someone else than his sweet little Briton.

"You have to promise me something, alright?" Arthur didn't say a thing, just nodded, eyes locked with the elder male. "No matter what your father says in the trial, no matter what me and the guards say, you are not going to say a single thing, okay? Don't tell them what really is between the two of us, you'll only get yourself into trouble."

Arthur hesitated. He didn't want everyone to think that Francis was a bad man, he wanted his reputation to be cleaned. He wanted to tell everyone that Francis had not done a single thing wrong, he wanted to tell them that he loved him. "But-" His protests were cut by a pair of lips pressing onto his own ones. "Arthur, please… Do it for me…", Francis whispered as the kiss was broken.

With a small sigh leaving his lips, Arthur gave a small nod. "Alright, then… I'll do it for you", he whispered, giving the other a soft smile. "I love you, Francis", he whispered, and he really meant those words. Francis was the most important thing in the whole world to him. "I love you too, Arthur, and I always will", the servant replied, the other man's loving expression reflected in his own one.

"Arthur! I told you not to touch that filthy rat!" The king himself had been looking for his son, and was now standing there, anger in his eyes. He pushed Arthur away, pushing his hand arm through the bars to slap the Frenchman at his cheek. Without a single word of protest, Francis bowed, lowering his gaze to the ground.

"Father! Don't hit him!" Arthur shouted with wide eyes, clinging to his father's arm, looking at the old man's face, the expression on his own face begging and pleading.

"He deserved. And even if he didn't, you do not have the rights to say what I can and cannot do", the king said, not even glancing at Francis before he tugged the prince away with him.

"I love you", the desperate Englishman mouthed to Francis as he turned to look at him for one last time before he and his father disappeared into the stairs.

Letting a small, rather defeated sigh leave his lips, Francis sat down on the floor of the cell. The water that was leaking down the walls of the small room seeped through the fabric of his shirt, making him shiver in cold.

Tomorrow he would see Arthur the last time in his whole life, if the Briton was to attend the trial. And even if he did, Francis knew he would not be allowed to talk to the other man, he would not be able to say good bye. And that hurt him in ways he had not even known that it was possible to be hurt.

His heart was screaming for Arthur to be there with him, every part of his soul was graving for the other to be in his arms. He had always known that they could not be together for the rest of their lives, but he had not wanted it all to end like this.