- Ahahaha... Not too bad kiddo. Your skills are not too shabby, but you will need to train for a few hundreds years more - Britain laughed wholeheartedly, looking down at the frail figure lying on the ground.

- Curses... - Arthur grunted.

- Now now... A young lady should not use those words. You should admit your defeat and agree to receive training from me. You may be my boss, but you will need to learn from me.

- You say that while looking nothing more than a kid playing knight with a stick. I refuse. My pride cannot accept that. And don't call me kiddo or lady. I'm sick of that.

- Ahahahaha... Try to defeat me then. I shall acknowledge you by then and gracefully call you my King. Now, stand up, it's time for your etiquette lessons.

Out of everything, etiquette lessons were those Arthur hate the most. Being brought up as a knight when he was small, Arthur's behaviour, despite being a polite knight, was still too crude for a king. Young as he was, having forced to stay in a castle all days and nights tired him greatly. Not to mention an annoying humanified country was always around to nag and annoy him. Yet, Arthur soon came to accept Britain. In fact, Arthur was amazed at what Britain could do.

Though, he deemed more than half of those was useless.

Britain, that one winter.

- What are you doing shoveling the snow at these hour, and with your bare hand like that? - Britain shouted, running toward the hard-working king.

- Ah, the snow was pilling up, and all the people are resting, so I think I should do something. I have nothing to do at the moment, and a bit of a work out might be good for my body. I'm getting all rusty with all these snowing. - Arthur explained in a panic. He just wanted some time for himself after being locked up in the castle for so long. Now was the only time he could sneak out and cool himself down for a bit, a runt had to appeart and disturb him. Unpleasant as he might be, he still ask - But where did you just come from? You weren't here yesterday?

- I went around yesterday and bumped to the bastard France so I came over there. I just got back from his place. That bastard, he dare insulted our winter outfits again... Hey you, after you done with whatever you are doing, come to my place. I will give you a nice winter dress so that bastard France could shut up. Ahahahahah I can't wait to see his stupid face when he see your new brilliant dress I make.

- Oi oi oi... What dress? And why me? I'.m your boss here - Arthur certainly hate the idea of being Britain's dressing doll.

- Because you are the king. I can't let my boss going around looking like a drag like that. Just consider it a gift from the great me.

Britain seem to be too concentrate that Arthur's words no longer reach him. Letting a sigh, Arthur wondered what would happen to the dress, and to himself.

Hours later, when the sun finally shone its yellowish light through the cloudy winter sky, Arthur finished his job and reluctantly came back to the castle. There he found Britain waiting in his room with all kind of measurement and sewing tools. Throwing Arthur a seemingly white dress, Britain signaled him to go change. Looking at Britain's serious face, Arthur quietly followed as instructed and let Britain take his measurement and adjustment. Yet, to his surprise, after such a short time, Britain could already assemble a plain dress.

- After living for hundred of years you will be able to do at least this much. Haha impressed, aren't you? There is nothing the Great Britain cannot do. I shall personally take care of everything. Oh, and this is your new battle dress, so I will put the amour in also okay? It'll turn out great.

Arthur's dress came in in just a week. It's a beautiful blue dress with detachable amour. Even though he didn't like dress, the design of the dress was not too bad, and as Britain and everyone insisted he would begin wearing that in battle and formal occasion. And maybe, Arthur's impression on Britain has become slightly better.

- Britain, I'm hungry. Could you ask the kitchen to send me something? - Arthur asked after a practice duel.

- Just rest. Today you have shown great improvement, so I myself would cook something for you. - Britain said with a beaming smile while he ran off to the kitchen.

"After seeing his needle work, I wonder how great of a chef he would be" - Arthur wonder to himself. He has yet to realise that was the day he came closest to death.

Britain came back in a few minute, holding a plate full of black squishy unidentified object that so called 'food'.

- Are you sure we can eat this? - Arthur ask in doubt.

- Of course, its taste is out of this world. Try it try it try it...

Unable to refuse such bright eyes, Arthur took the thing and put it in his mouth. In a fraction of second his mouth exploded and was render unable to taste anything. He fainted before he could even swallow the 'food'. It was truly out of this world, Britan's homecooking.