Matthew wiped at his eyes as he left the store, with one of his cousin's arms around his shoulders.
"Was I speaking too quietly?.. Or was I just being boring?.." he pondered softly.
"Oh, mon ami, I am sure it is just that he is a sour brute!" Francis pouted. "You know how those peasants are. I don't understand why you try to talk to them, Matthieu!"
"If you wanna talk to peasants, we've got tons of servants that've been dragged off the streets," Alfred laughed, nudging his brother's side gently.
"They would resent me or think I was making fun of them, though," Matthew sighed, flicking blond curls over his shoulder. "I thought the boy in the shop would be of a nicer kind."
"I cannot believe you said he looked 'cute', of all things," scoffed the Viscount, clearly amused. "He looks like a dirty peasant with straw for hair. But if you're looking for someone beautiful, well," with this, Francis winked.
"That's unpleasant, you're my cousin," Matthew murmured, unsettled. "I'm going to try to talk to him again, the next time I see him," he pouted, determined to prove to Francis that common peasants were people too.
"God, what next, you run off to join the people on the street? Besides, don't you talk to that one lady servant back home? That's not enough?" groaned Alfred, annoyed by his brother's attitude. "Just accept that peasants suck, and we're great!"
"That's so childish of you to say, though," he sighed, rubbing his temples.
"I was kidding, I mean, they're okay. But they're dirty, and they smell, and I don't get you at all." Alfred yawned as he walked down the street with his companions. The people that had been previously walking by had cleared to either side of the street, leaving a wide gap for the nobles to walk through. They didn't do that out of respect, though, it was a movement made in fear.
They returned to the castle without much issue, and Matthew quickly retired up to the library. In this part of the castle, a poor woman by the name of Katyusha worked to clean and keep the books in order. Matthew was a kind prince, and had made friends with her after showing that he didn't bite. From what she had told him, he knew that she had family trying to survive in the downtown part of the city, a younger brother and sister. Admittedly, Matthew did give her bits of gold and things that she could sell to help support herself and her loved ones. Today, he just needed to relax, and take things off his mind.
As much as he didn't want to think about it, that rude boy from the tailory was burned into his mind. Even with those monstrous brows and pissy scowl, Matthew managed to find the boy attractive. He would die before he would breathe a word of any kind of crush to his brother or cousin. They would most probably make fun of him for having kind thoughts on just a peasant.
Perhaps he would order a ball gown after all, just for a chance to drop in again. It wouldn't be a garment for him, though.
"Katyusha?" He called softly, smiling slightly as the woman turned and shuffled over towards him.
"Yes, my prince?" She answered, doing a faint curtsy.
"Please, you know just to call me Matthew.. Anyway, may I have your fitting sizes, if you know them?" He asked with a tiny smile. The payment for this would come out of his own pocket, of course.
"Oh, I have them written down from a long while ago," She murmured. "But I would need to go and fetch the paper from the servant's quarters.. May I ask why you require them?" Katyusha asked softly.
"Friends give gifts, non?" Matthew answered softly, before suggesting Katyusha go and retrieve the measurements with a nod.
She was still a little suspicious, but headed off, and returned a minute later. "They might be a little off, since it has been quite a while," She shrugged, handing over the paper.
"Thank you, Katyusha. I'll be able to give you your gift soon, then."
"Are you sure that it's alright to be giving a servant gifts like this?.. Your generosity with gold is already so much help, but I needn't be a burden to you," Katyusha whimpered, looking as if she was about to cry.
"Don't fret. The gold for this is coming out of my own pocket, and I don't mind spending coin on friends." Matthew assured, patting his friend's shoulder softly. "It is exactly what Alfred would do for a companion, excepting that our kind of company differs. So it is very much alright." Although he said this, he would make sure to tell her later that if anyone was to ask, she was to say that she saved up for a long time and purchased the gift herself.
He spent the rest of the evening in his room, not feeling hungry enough to want to make his way to the banquet hall. His brother told him off when he returned to the room that they shared. They shared it not because of a lack of space, but more so because they were very close as brothers. Alfred was giving him a lecture about showing up for dinner, and then boasting about how awesome the food was. Matthew rolled his eyes.
It came time for the brothers to sleep, but Matthew just tossed and turned in his bed. Various things played at him, and picked at his brain. That damned tailor boy was the main cause of his fretfulness. And quickly, he began to criticize himself. He'd been too quiet, again. He hadn't said the right things. He was boring. Grunting quietly, Matthew curled up into a ball and tried to focus on sleep instead.
He awoke the next morning with weary eyes. He sat up and wiped them with one hand. A servant aided with getting he and his brother dressed and presentable for breakfast. They feasted in the banquet hall, truly and literally a meal fit for a king. Belly full, Matthew announced to his father that he was to be going out, and his brother was assigned to join him. He hadn't particularly wanted to have Alfred tag along, but his father wouldn't allow him to go alone.
They traveled quietly, with Matthew leading. It was a short trip to the tailory, and Matthew hesitantly pushed the door open. Again, Arthur's father greeted them. He exchanged pleasantries with the man, before asking to speak to Arthur. Al seemed apprehensive about that, but told him that his son was probably in one of the rooms in the back.
"Thank you," Matthew hummed, parting from his brother to visit the tailor's son. He knocked against the door, gentle in case the old door were to put splinters in his knuckles.
"Good morning.. It is I, prince Matthew. I have come to pay you a visit." He started, waiting for some kind of response. He was anxious and wondering if he would even get a reply today.
"Come in," a voice responded, and Matthew's face lit up like a lantern in the dead of night. And so, he opened the door, and stepped inside.
A boy, taller than Arthur, greeted him. He was a little different from the boy he'd been expecting; he was freckled and had a messy mop of ginger hair, but had those same forest green eyes.
"What's a noble wantin' from me, except free clothes?" He asked, looking at Matthew rather skeptically.
"Oh, uh," Matthew mumbled. He had prepared a script for talking to Arthur, not this boy. He had to make things up as he went along now, and he was a little frightened. "I was looking for Arthur.."
"Well, I'm Liam," the boy scoffed, going about doing things in what Matthew guessed to be the kitchen. "If you're lookin' for the runt, he's out in the woods with Allistor right now."
"The woods?.. Why is he there?" Matthew mumbled, caught off guard, and a little unsettled with how Arthur was referred to as a runt. Also, was going into the woods every now and then a common peasant thing? This was new.
"Allistor's trying to teach him to hunt," Liam laughed, amused at the thought. Unlike Arthur, this boy seemed to be pleasant, and Matthew smiled slightly. "If the old man will let me out of the house, Prince, I can take you to where he is."
Matthew nodded. "I'd appreciate that, Liam."
Liam washed his hands, dried them, and then walked past Matthew in the doorway to talk to his father. As their chatter finished up, Liam grunted and turned away, facing Matthew with a grim expression. "Alright, turns out the old man mixed his sons up again," he murmured, gruff. "But I still have to stay here. I can give you directions though."
"What're you guys talking about?" Ah, it was Alfred.
"The boy I came to see is out right now, and Liam here is to give me directions to his current location." Matthew explained, nodding. Liam dipped his head as well, and began to relay various instructions to get to what he explained to be a small clearing a little ways into the woods.
Before they were to leave, Matthew made an order for a ball gown, and handed over the measurements that Katyusha had given him last night. The princes now set off, saying their quiet farewells to the tailors.
"Oh boy, Dad would never let us into the woods by ourselves," laughed Alfred, hands in his pockets as they started down the street.
"Exactly why we must be careful, Alfred," Matthew murmured, frowning. "But still, I think it's nice to have a little bit of adventure."
"I'm so excited!" the blond chirped, perky as ever. "I'm gonna see a deer," he boasted.
"You can't just say that you're going to see a deer," chided Matthew, rolling his violet eyes. "It'd probably be better if you didn't come, or if we didn't go at all. We could just wait for Arthur to come back."
"Yeah, but your dirty peasant boyfriend might not be back until late-"
"He's not a dirty peasant, he's a tailor.. And he is not my boyfriend!" interjected Matthew, cheeks flushed red, and voice squeaky and indignant. "We've talked once, and he didn't even reply for half of our conversation," he mumbled.
"Sorry, future dirty peasant boyfriend, seeing as how you're so intent on talking to him." Alfred scoffed, giving his brother a little shove and taking quick steps forward so that Matthew could not echo the gesture.
Matthew was silenced by embarrassment until they reached the outer edge of the city. Alfred was already whining about his legs hurting, but Matthew chose to ignore it.
"Liam said that we go in a straight line to the right from the edge of the castle wall.." he murmured, pointing in the direction of where he supposed they were supposed to go. "I can hardly believe we're doing this.."
"Kinda silly for a tailor boy you met yesterday, a peasant no less." Alfred mused, rolling his eyes. "And I'm gonna have mud on my shoes, gross," he grumbled.
"It'll just be dirt, Alfred. It hasn't been raining enough lately for there to be mud right now." Matthew stated, leading through into the vegetation.
After perhaps five to ten minutes of Alfred complaining and tripping on everything while Matthew tried to ignore him, they finally reached the clearing. It was void of people, and Matthew frowned. After walking around and inspecting it for a little while, he noticed a few arrows lodged into a tree trunk, and a bow tucked away under some kind of grass covering.
"Arthur?" He called, a little nervous. Had Liam tricked him, back at the store?
"I don't get it, wasn't he supposed to be here with some Allistor guy?" Alfred asked, nudging Matthew worriedly. "Can we go already? It smells like dirt here and I think a bug bit me."
"No, he should be here.. Come on, we should try looking for him, at least."
"Really, do we have to? I mean, it's not like he matters to us." Alfred muttered sourly, crossing his arms and pouting like a child. "I don't want to get lost in the forest because of some dumb peasant."
"Alfred, now's not the time to be a condescending prick," murmured Matthew. "Arthur might be missing or he could've been attacked by something. I think it's our duty to find him."
Again, he called for Arthur, wandering a little way out of the clearing to try and locate the boy.
"Here!" A voice hollered, and Matthew tensed.
"Alfred, I heard him!" Matthew called, waiting for his brother before searching out the location of the voice. Alfred joined him, and together, they ambled towards the voice.
They passed through some obstructive shrubs, and Matthew had to hold back some chuckling as the sight before them unfolded. There was Arthur, suspended in the air by a rope hooked on his ankle. Upside-down, two feet above the ground, and looking ever grouchy, there he was.
"Oh, it's you. And your brother." He sneered at Matthew, crossing his arms to try and appear forceful. Despite his efforts, it was hard to look tough when he was dangling by one leg from a bent tree. "Go away, princes. And no, I don't care why you're here."
"You don't want me to help you down, at least?" Matthew asked, raising a brow. "You don't seem to be able to by yourself."
"Shut up," Arthur grunted, letting his arms hang down by his head again. "I'm still thinking up a way to get myself down. I don't need your help. So leave me be."
"For a peasant, you're a stubborn bastard," Alfred commented, watching the tailor's son just dangling there and trying not to laugh too loudly. "And kinda stupid."
"Alfred-" hissed Matthew, before sighing. "Are you sure you don't want me to help you?" He asked, tilting his head.
"I can manage without some putrid and rather rude nobles ruining my day." Arthur puffed, looking away.
"You say that while you're hanging helplessly, and who knows how the hell you got up there," snickered Alfred.
"Please wait, Arthur, and try to tolerate brother dear," Matthew sighed, before disappearing through the foliage again to go to the clearing.
"Why don't you go with him and not come back?" Arthur grunted, staring down at Alfred with poison in his eyes. "From what I can tell, you're a snob who seems to think shit of anyone below you," he judged.
"I'm allowed to think like that," Alfred scoffed, sticking out his tongue. "I'm gonna be king when Pa kicks it, so I'll be higher than everyone, and they'll all be below the brilliant and all-powerful me." He smirked, nodding.
"Ugh, you're a whole new reason to hate royalty," Arthur muttered.
Matthew had returned to the clearing, and went over to the tree with the arrows. He gripped onto the shaft of one of them, and with some effort, pulled it from the trunk. It didn't take long to find where he had left Alfred and Arthur. That was mainly because he could hear cacophonous laughter, and loud shouting.
"I'm back," he stated quietly, just taking a moment to observe Arthur trying his very best to swing his fists at Alfred, who just took a step back and watched the boy desperately struggle in the air. "Alfred, what did you say?" He asked softly, seeing as Arthur was lost and blinded in a barrage of insults upon the royal name.
"I said that deducing from his looks and attitude, his mother's an ugly street urchin, and his father's a stuffy old man." Alfred scoffed.
Matthew took a deep breath, and then released it in a weary sigh. "Alfred, please stand under him and catch him when I cut the rope," he instructed, before moving over to the young tree. Steadily, and unsurely (he had never climbed a tree like this before) he clung tight to the bendy trunk. Once he had shuffled along far enough to reach where the rope was tied, he used the head of the arrow to saw at it.
It finally gave way, and the tree sprang back to standing straight, with Matthew clinging onto it again in fear. The yelling had stopped, and as he descended, saw Arthur laying on his back on the ground. "Alfred," Matthew hissed. "You were supposed to catch him!"
"Whoops," murmured Alfred, shrugging. "Didn't catch the peasant trash." Matthew gave him a stern look, before shuffling over to the boy on the ground.
Arthur seemed a little stunned, as he had taken the brunt of the fall on his head and shoulders.
"Are you alright, Arthur?" Matthew murmured, crouching.
"Yeah.. I didn't need your help," Arthur grumbled. He would never admit that he did.
"Maybe he should work in the castle as a slave so some manners can be driven into him," Alfred sneered. What a rude remark; how ironic that was. Matthew chose to ignore his brother for now.
Arthur insisted on getting up on his own, using his spindly arms to push himself up off the ground.
"Are you going to tell us how you even got up there in the first place?" Matthew asked, a little hurt that Arthur didn't even thank him for the rescue. Perhaps Arthur wasn't that familiar with manners, he thought.
"My brother was supposed to be here teaching me some more archery, but he decided to let me train while he went to the tavern," Arthur grunted, pushing past the brothers and going into the clearing. "So I went for a bit of a walk, and got stuck in a hunter's trap."
The princes followed, watching as Arthur stowed away the bow in a tree hollow, and tugged the arrows out of the tree trunk to follow suit and tuck them away. It seemed that perhaps being right side up once more was causing some dizziness, as the boy managed to trip over a root, and fall to the ground.
"Arthur!" Matthew exclaimed, once again hurrying to the boy's side. "Are you sure that you're alright?.. Are you alright now?" Meanwhile, Alfred just laughed at his clumsiness.
"Go away!" Arthur hissed, clearly in pain as he tried to sit again. "I'm absolutely fine! Just go! You disgusting princes shouldn't even be in the woods!"
"I wouldn't say we're disgusting," Matthew chided softly, confidence faltering. "Perhaps Alfred, but not the both of us," he murmured, extending a gloved hand to help Arthur to his feet. Frowning, the scruffy boy stared at it for quite a while, and then looked up to meet Matthew's eyes. The prince sighed and pulled his hand back, and started to turn.
"Wait-" Arthur said quickly, shooting his own hand out. "Just.. help me to my feet, princess."
A small smile graced Matthew's lips, and he helped Arthur up. The boy seemed to lean against him as they tried to walk again, refusing to walk by himself for now. He had a noticeable limp now, most probably because of some kind of dislocation from the hard trip.
"Come on, the city's back this way," Arthur mumbled, hobbling along with Matthew to his side, and Alfred wandering behind them.
"I came to visit you today at the tailory, but you weren't there," Matthew commented softly, after a long while of silent travel. It was hard not to notice Arthur being silent and staring away. "I ordered a ball gown after all, as I was inspired by our little banter yesterday. I gave the measurements to your father, though."
"A ball gown?.." Arthur echoed, pausing in his lopsided stead. "A ball gown!.." He repeated, perking up considerably. "Oh, er," he noticed his fault in character. "A ball gown, that's nice. I like making gowns.." he admitted softly.
This softness was a pleasant change, and Matthew couldn't help but smile as he aided Arthur along. "It's for my friend, a gift."
"You have friends?" Alfred asked, stretching his arms as they exited the woods and started on actual cobblestone path again, headed back into the city. "Friends don't count if they're peasants or poorfolk."
"Katyusha, one of the servants at the castle, one of my closest friends." Matthew answered quaintly. "She tells me about how she'd like to be like a princess, wearing pretty frocks and coming to the dances," he continued quietly. "Even if she cannot attend the dance, Alfred, I still wish to gift her with a dress."
Arthur paused in his hobbling, turning to look at Matthew with confused green eyes.
"Why would you do that?.. Are you getting some kind of sexual reward from her?" He asked, taking the prince by surprise.
"N-no?!.. Goodness, we're friends, nothing more." Matthew stammered. "I think she would become happy with this present, and her happiness is enough of a return gift," he wheezed, shaking his head quickly to clear his thoughts.
"Oh come on, you've gotta be getting with her, she's got breasts the size of-"
"Shut up, prince," Arthur interrupted, glaring at Alfred now. He had been admittedly captured by Matthew's ideals, and was actually starting to consider that perhaps he was tolerable.
"Don't tell me to shut up, lowly tailor! I am your prince, soon to be your king!" Alfred grunted, nostrils flaring with sudden anger.
"I'll have you know that my family are the best tailors in the city, we are not lowly in the least!" retorted Arthur, clenching his hands into fists. "In fact, you're wearing clothes made by our hand right now, so I suggest you shut your mouth, or stride about naked!"
"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Alfred sneered, balling his hands into fists also. As Arthur was about to yell an 'I'd rather sew my eyes onto a horse's behind', Matthew spoke up.
"Brother, Arthur, please!" Matthew squeaked, having to physically hold the injured boy back to stop him from lunging at the prince. "We've almost returned to the tailory, so please refrain from fighting!" He exclaimed, holding back Arthur with just one hand, and using his other to point to the aforementioned building.
Arthur tugged himself out of Matthew's restraint, and grumbled something indistinct. After that little incident, he tried to get along without the prince's support. Trying to hold onto his pride, Arthur limped pathetically forward, before slumping tiredly against the wall of the tailory.
"You two can leave now," He muttered, pushing open the door and not waiting for a response.
"He's a real charmer," Alfred murmured sarcastically, giving his brother a look that said 'Really, Matthew? Really?'.
"He's probably rude to you because you're an oblivious and condescending asshole," Matthew sighed. "I'm sorry, that was uncouth of me to point out."
"Well, you know what, whatever!" Alfred scoffed, throwing his hands up in defeat. "I'm going home. Have fun playing with the trash."
Matthew pouted, and watched his brother start to march off. He was probably going to go and soak in a bath now to get the smell of forest off of him. Matthew reminded himself to do the same, later. Turning, he knocked gently on the tailory door, before pushing it open, and hearing the bell ring quietly above his head.
Al, sitting at one of the storefront workstations, gave him a little wave and pointed to the corner on the other side of the room, where Arthur was sitting down with Liam to his side. As Matthew neared, he saw what was actually going on with the brothers. Liam had Arthur's leg in his hands, and was counting down. As he reached zero, he made a sharp movement, and Arthur let out a weak cry of pain, eyes screwed shut.
"What're you doing to him?!" Matthew squeaked, concerned for the blond boy. "Stop this at once!"
Arthur opened one eye at his exclamation, and then the other. "It's fine, princess," he murmured, letting out a quiet sigh of relief. "He fixed my leg up."
"You're welcome, runt," Liam yawned, ruffling Arthur's already-messy hair before moving off to the kitchen.
"Goodness me," Matthew murmured. "That's a little rough, though, isn't it?"
"It's happened before," Arthur shrugged. "I've made my fair share of blunders. Surely, as have you, princess."
"Is there a reason you keep calling me that?" he laughed softly, awkwardly taking a seat beside Arthur.
"I'm not usually fond of giving nicknames, but that one seems to suit you," he smirked. "Oh, also, I feel I was a little rough on you yesterday, mm?.."
Matthew's face fell, and he nodded meekly. He'd certainly beat himself up about that. "Oh, don't worry about it," he sighed, shrugging.
"It's rare for me to see a royal who's not obsessed with themselves, women, wine, or food." Arthur grumbled, picking up a piece of paper that had been left at his workstation. "So you're a pleasant diamond in the rough, so far."
"I'm a diamond?" Matthew murmured, not really getting the saying, but taking it as a compliment and blushing accordingly. "That's nice of you to say.."
"Erm, not what I meant, but sure, you're a diamond." Arthur conceded, shrugging. "Is there a certain colour you want this gown to be in? Certain materials?" He asked, eager as he showed the bit of paper bearing the order back to Matthew.
"Do whatever you think would look best, Arthur," Matthew hummed, giving a little smile. "Just make it as beautiful as you can."
Arthur's jaw dropped. "Really? You're giving me that liberty?" He asked, flabbergasted and trying not to start grinning like a fool. Matthew nodded. "I must say, thank you very much," he hummed, practically buzzing with excitement. "Without a definite design down yet, I can't say when it will be done, but feel free to drop in at any time to check how it's coming along," Arthur chirped with a smile.
Matthew felt his heart melting in his chest. This Arthur, this kind and sweet Arthur, god, it was enough to make his heart race, and his mind become lost in thoughts of the boy. And the fact that Arthur had practically invited him to visit at any time.. Matthew felt his breath hitch in his throat as he tried to figure out what to do or say. He was too lost in Arthur's beautiful and slightly lopsided smile to have any kind of cohesive thought.
"Still there, princess?" Arthur asked, waving a hand in front of the prince's face.
"Y-yes, I'm still here! I just zoned out a bit, that's all." He puffed, kicking himself for doing so.
"I was saying that you can visit whenever you'd like, to check on the gown, of course." He repeated.
"Oh, yes, I caught that," Matthew laughed softly, resting his hands in his lap. "I'll bring you the money tomorrow, yes?"
"If you mean to my father, then yes." Arthur corrected, nodding and finding something to illustrate a design on. "I don't take money directly from customers, and my sister's the proper treasurer."
"Right, got it." Matthew hummed.
"I think perhaps I should take my leave," Matthew stated after a while of silence, smiling awkwardly and standing up. Arthur stood as well, eyes locked on Matthew's.
"Fare well, Matthew," he stated, dipping his head and quickly turning away.
"You said my name," Matthew observed softly, cherishing the moment and trying not to smile like he was in complete adoration of the tailor boy.
"Should I have said princess?" Arthur asked softly. Matthew could've sworn he saw a slight pinkening of the boy's cheeks.
"I don't mind what you call me, as long as it's not an insult," Matthew laughed quietly, bowing as a goodbye.
"R-right!" Arthur stammered, straightening up and snapping to focus. "Fare well, Matthew." He repeated, except without the smile this time. "Please drop in when you have some time to spare."
With that, Arthur grabbed the order paper and dashed off into another room. Confused and charmed, Matthew stumbled back towards the entrance, when Arthur's father called him over.
"Psst, prince kid," Al whispered, smiling. "C'mere."
Matthew, suspicious, approached, standing in front of the man as he worked on a cross-stitch. "Yes, sir?"
"You're the first person he's ever talked to for that long, outside the family." Al said quietly, practically exuding happiness. "And he's never invited someone to visit before. He must've taken a likin' to you."
"Oh, er," Matthew mumbled, turning as red as the fabric that the man was working with. "I wouldn't say that-"
"Did you say or do something that might've made 'im hate you less?" Al asked, blunt and oblivious as to how awkwardly worded that question was.
"I have no idea," the prince murmured, shrugging. "He was yelling at me one moment, and sweet the next."
"I see.. Well, off with you, prince." Al smirked, heartily patting Matthew on the back, before returning to his work.
Unable to wipe the dopey smile from his face, Matthew wandered out of the tailory and started to head back in the direction of the castle. Oh, how cheery his thoughts were at the moment! However, as he stepped through the castle gate, his smile faded in a matter of seconds.
His father Francois stood in front of him, a guard to either of his sides. And he looked furious. Matthew seemed to shrink in his stead.
"And why do you look so happy?" the king asked, deep voice almost thunderous. "Your brother tells me of how you decided to enter the woods without any precaution or protection!"
Matthew bit his lip. Alright, now he was in trouble. He just prayed that Alfred didn't tell their father about-
"And you've been mixing with the common filth again! I have been informed that you wish to court just a peasant!"
Matthew flinched, inching backward a step. "I do not wish to court them," he murmured. That was a lie, but he couldn't tell the outright truth here.
"I believe in Alfred more than I believe in your word." Francois murmured, narrowing his bloodshot grey eyes. "You are not to go out without a guard by your side, and you are not to visit this tailor anymore."
He froze to the spot. No, no, no. He had only just broken the ice with Arthur! And he was so close to becoming a proper friend to the seemingly lonely boy; this seemed so unfair to him. He had no way of contact, and his brother and cousin were so painfully loyal to the king, they would never do a favour just for Matthew and pass on a message. "Yes, Father." He uttered, meek and not sure of what else he could possibly say.
Worried that he would cry out of fear or frustration if he stayed any longer, Matthew bit his lip and shuffled past his father, and up to his room. Damn it, this was not how it was supposed to go! His thoughts swarmed him, and he found himself staring up at the ceiling. Would Arthur think that he was trying to avoid him? Would he even be able to see the boy again in his lifetime?.. Alfred had always been a suck up, and he would probably continue his father's principles, even long after Francois himself had passed away.
Princess. The nickname that seemed still fresh off Arthur's tongue. It rang in Matthew's head, but the echoes were quickly replaced with his own name in Arthur's voice. He felt so utterly stupid for thinking of the boy in the first place. He felt so painfully idiotic for having a different mindset and expecting others to accept it. As he stared up at the ceiling and held back tears, Matthew reminded himself to punch his brother square in the face the next time that they crossed paths.