The next few days seemed to pass by in a rosy glow. Alfred showed his new guest how to weed the garden, wipe the floors, and polish the silver. A brief foray into the kitchen which left both food and person coated in powder of the charcoal persuasion kept Arthur from meal duty, however. And he was alright with that. The monk may have been loud, overenthusiastic, and a bit more touchy than normal, but he did know how to cook. When they weren't sharing the chores and upkeep of the Church and grounds, the two men found joy in conversation with one another. The talked about their upbringing. How Alfred's family had been a warm and energetic household, until an illness had taken his parents as well as many of their neighbors, leaving Alfred and his younger brother Matthew on their own. Matthew had been taken in by another family, and Alfred had joined the Monastery. Arthur was astonished by his savior's cheerfulness in spite of his past. He remembered his youth with nothing but fondness, both for the parents he was certain were watching over him from heaven, and for the monks who raised him as though he was one of their own. Arthur felt guilty after hearing such openness from the other. He too had shared his story, his his father passing when he was young, being raised by his mother who cared, but was controlling. Feeling lost in his own household. But he had held back. There were things he could not tell the kind man who had given him refuge. It was killing him inside, even as the sight of the taller blond brought him growing joy with each day. Being plagued with guilt and curiosity over whether Alfred felt the same about him was keeping him up at night. It became so that he almost wished something would happen, if only to break his own tension. Unfortunately, on the night of the third day Arthur got his wish.

He sat at the dining table quietly, letting his eyes stare unfocused into the fire. His fingers traced up and down the cup at his place, long drained of water. Suddenly, a hand slammed down on the table, crumpled sheet of paper beneath it. Arthur started, knocking over the empty cup.

"I thought you said you weren't a criminal." The hurt accusation in Alfred's voice made Arthur wince.

"I'm not! I spoke the truth!" His eyes narrowed in anger. "How dare you accuse me in such a way. You have no reason to doubt my word!"

"Then why is your picture lining the streets, with 'Wanted for Reward' printed on both sides!?" Arthur stared up at Alfred confused, taking in the slightly reddened cheeks and eyes, still wet at the corners. Realization began to dawn as he wrenched the tattered paper from beneath the other's hand. It was true. His likeness stared back at him, carefully drawn, with a clear reward offered beneath it. A wanted sign if there ever was one. Distributed by the palace. Arthur growled internally. Of course it was her. Doing unnecessary things, messing around where she wasn't wanted, interfering with his life, the vindictive-

"Arthur." The rage that had been building inside him fizzled away all at once, leaving desperate despair in it's wake. How could he forget what he had done. His jade green eyes flew upwards to the face he had grown to adore. A face now lined in pain and assumed betrayal. He had to fix this. But what could he say. It was true. He had lied. It would be better if he were a criminal, at least that way he already would have no stinging sense of guilt. He had to tell the truth now...but would it be too late?

"I understand. I will explain. But I am not a criminal." Arthur's eyes met Alfred's, and the taller blond was struck with the sincerity he saw there.

"I swear it." His voice shook, but not from hesitation. Alfred took a shaky breath, and gave a quick nod. He would trust his first instinct, the one that had started it all, and believe him.

"Alright." His voice wavered only a moment before steadying. "I will trust you. But you need to trust me. Please. Tell me why is the palace searching for you so arduously?" Slightly taken aback by the passion in the monk's words, Arthur could only agree. Gesturing to the seat across from his own at the table, he took a breath and prepared for the confession he should have made from the beginning.

"I am not a criminal. I told you this before, and it is the truth. The palace is looking for me...not as a fugitive...although they disguise that fact well." Arthur couldn't hide the hint of bitterness that crept into his voice as he spoke. "They are looking for me because if I'm not there...they don't have an heir." The smaller blond's gaze seemed glued to the table. The silence was overwhelming, and as the moments passed a horrible dread began to pool in the older man's stomach. All it took to wash everything away, however, was the feeling of a warm hand pressing onto his own. His eyes began to water, his head snapping up to lock green eyes with blue.

"I believe you." Arthur blinked rapidly to keep tears of relief from spilling down his now burning cheeks.

"You do?"

"Yes...Prince Arthur." The truth was out, and the royal bowed his head once more.

"But tell me...why are you running away? Why come to this old church and stay with this poor monk when you could be at the palace?" Arthur opened his mouth to snap a sarcastic response, but looking into the others face he found none of the accusation he was so used to. Only genuine concern. And confusion. He paused, considering how to answer.

"All my life...I have been a prisoner of my birth. I am never allowed to leave the palace. Nor am I allowed to participate in official events. Since my father passed..my mother has been overprotective. Many of the towns people don't even know what the prince looks like." He waved his free hand slightly towards the crumpled poster. "Which is why they can get away with that. I wanted to try something. Anything. To eat with the people seemed a good place to start, but once I had gotten out they started chasing me and I...I got desperate. I came here for refuge, but I stayed here...because for me this was freedom." Arthur's cheeks were fully flushed as he forced himself to look directly at the man across the table once more. Their hands still flush against one another.

"I stayed with you, because...I have...never so enjoyed another's company." A redness began to subtly creep over the monk's face. He mouthed an 'oh', but it was as though his voice had hidden behind his embarrassment and couldn't be forced out. A silence full of words and feelings that hadn't been let out yet filled the room, broken finally by Alfred's unusually soft voice.

"I have enjoyed your company too. More than I ever have another person's." A strange joy stretched over Arthur's being, making his heart tingle and butterflies to flutter in his stomach.

"But…." Alfred looked away from Arthur's confusion with a pained expression. "Please don't think ill of me for what I'm about to say. It pains me as well." The smaller man nodded cautiously.

"You should go back to the castle." This time it was the monk avoiding the prince's gaze. "The people...they need someone like you. Your mother has been ruling for years, and has lost touch with the realities of this nation. You...you are so bright." A short laugh. "You ran away from the palace to be with the people. They need someone like you. They deserve you more than me." With every sentence Alfred's head hung lower and lower. Now his chin was nearly touching his chest, his words becoming muffled in the folds of his robes. Arthur felt he might cry again. He understood. He knew the truth had been spoken. He had a responsibility, and though these days had been the best of his life, he knew it was just a way for him to run away. He couldn't do that. He thought back to his father who had worked his whole life to be a fair and just ruler for the people. He knew he had to go back. He just hadn't wanted to see it. Especially now, when he had even more reason to stay, in the form of the stunning blond man before him. His desperation began to carry him away again, until an idea formed that left him nearly breathless. It didn't have to end like this!

"I understand!" The exaltation in his voice must have seemed a cruel betrayal to Alfred, for he flinched slightly at the words.

"But you must come to the castle too. You must come to see me. If I cannot be here with you, then please. Please go there to be with me. These days have meant so much to me and I...would hate to see it end like this. Won't you visit me there?" The hope seemed to teeter at the edge of his voice, waiting to explode if only the right answer would let it. It was reflected as blue eyes met green, and burst over them in a shower of joy with the simple 'yes' Alfred could not help but give.

"Then it is decided. I shall go back in the morning."