The Secret

Chapter 2

Alfred was relieved. Word from his messenger stated that Isla would be arriving in two days. Although he was still nervous about meeting Isla, the extra two days gave him time to relax before their marriage.

The rain had subsided and the sun had made its way through the clouds. The air was warm and humid from the earlier rainfall, so it was perfect weather to go outside. Alfred was glad to have a window that looked out toward the castle grounds. He squinted and tried to see his special clearing beyond the trees. When he spotted the clearing and the beautiful lake, he quickly ran towards his dresser and pulled out a change of clothes.

He was going swimming! Alfred hardly ever got the opportunity to do so. His parents enjoyed restricting him and his twin brother, Matthew, to the castle. He hardly ever got to venture outside, his mom deeming it too dangerous. Alfred was constantly confined to stuffy rooms. His bedroom lacked anything enjoyable other than his precious window. If he wasn't staring out his window, he was then being taught his lessons in the classroom, listening to the droning of an aristocrat in the meeting room, or eating at the awkwardly long table in the dining room.

Alfred stuffed his change of clothes into a bag and proceeded to sneak downstairs. Everything would echo in the castle, so he would usually be caught. He felt as if he couldn't even walk through his own house without someone accusing him of wanting to go outside. He was once confined in his room for an entire week for being caught climbing trees.

As Alfred was walking down the hallway, he passed by a certain door. The room, he knew, was unoccupied. The door had an imposing look to it. The doorknob was brass, chilling to the touch, and there were carvings along the edges of the door frame, sending shivers down Alfred's spine. The carvings looked like monsters to him, which, although he would never admit it, scared him to no end. But besides the door itself, it was the purpose of the room that frightened him the most.

This was to be the room he shared with Isla.

As soon as Alfred and Isla were married, they were to be sent to this room to consummate their marriage. It was tradition. Relatives would send both the bride and groom to their new bedroom to perform the act. Alfred hated the thought of it. Nothing in his home was private. If you were to stand about ten feet away, every word whispered in his room had the chance of being heard.

It wasn't as if Alfred hadn't had sex before. There were a few girls he had met on his ventures outdoors into the local towns that he had slept with. Sometimes it was even considered beneficial for a man to become sexually active before marriage. But, he had genuinely liked those girls. They were all very nice, always blushing, and yet strangely forward when he met them. Alfred wasn't so sure that his parents were aware that he had slept with others before, but that hardly mattered. What did matter was that it would be his obligation to sleep with Isla after their wedding. And he was not ready for that.

How could you just tell someone to sleep with another? Especially someone you've never met? How could you force that bond? Everything Alfred wanted to believe about sex and love were always crushed by his parents and their traditions. Sex was purely for procreation. The only reason they wanted him to marry Isla was to produce an heir, an heir that would one day rule the United Kingdom of England and America. It would give his family all the riches they had lost, all the power they had taken away, all the land they could ever need…

Call him a romanticist, but Alfred believed that there had to be something more to sex than just producing children. There had to be more to marriage than just money and power. If there wasn't, then all those fairytales that he had been told as a child were a waste…The ones where the hero would valiantly rescue a damsel in distress. The ones where a peasant woman was found by a rich prince and they married out of love, not because her family was wealthy!

But Alfred was resigned to his duty. He would sleep with her one night and be done with it. Isla would get pregnant and produce an heir. His parents would be appeased. But still…he had never even met the woman before. What if she was cruel? What if she was bad-tempered? She could even look like a witch…not that Alfred thought that mattered in the case of love, but this wasn't a love story at the moment. Most importantly, what if they never learned to love each other? Even in a respectable way? They could end up hating each other for the rest of their lives! They would have to do everything together, too! Always walk, talk, eat, and sleep together… If he ended up being with someone who hated him, or who he hated himself, Alfred wasn't sure he could handle it.

Alfred was determined, however, to find at least one good feature about Isla, whether that be a physical trait or a personality trait. He would need to cling to that one thing and hoped the marriage would work itself out in years to come.

The door was mocking him now, so Alfred quickly shuffled away and escaped to the outdoors. The water awaited him.


The remainder of the trip to the kingdom of America had been silent and tense. His parents rode in the same carriage as him, both of them facing him was while he bowed his head and looked at his lap, hoping that he could feign interest in the fabric of his dress.

His dress. His wedding dress.

He still wasn't used to wearing a plain dress. His legs would shiver when the air was cold. His neck and collarbone were practically always exposed. He was used to trousers, to high collars, not… not this. His waist continued to ache. Arthur could barely eat without feeling the strain of the corset press against his stomach. He also had trouble breathing and was constantly stifling yawns because he couldn't puff out his chest to take in a deep breath or else his ribs would ache.

Arthur's neck was the only part of his body that hung limp. His other muscles were tense, feeling the eyes of his parents on him as they approached the castle. His new home.

"Lift your head, boy," his father commanded, nudging him on his leg. Arthur complied, glaring at his father as he did so. He felt an object being placed on his head.

"Wha-?" he nearly shouted, his vision suddenly going white. He felt the object on his head and realized it was a veil. The lace was thick and he could hardly make anyone out. Well, this was his wedding day, so he might as well look the part.

Arthur said no more, keeping his embarrassment to himself as he toyed with the ring on his finger. His mother's icy hand suddenly grabbed his own and yanked the ring off. Arthur made a grunt of pain since the ring had been very tight and hurt when it was put on or taken off.

"This will be placed on your finger by Alfred at the altar," she said, and nothing more. Arthur mumbled a small "hmph" and decidedly ignored his parents the rest of the way there.

It was late afternoon as they approached the castle gates. Although the Jones family had lost their fortune, they continued to live in the lap of luxury. It was all for appearances, Arthur was sure.

The carriage came to a stop and servants approached the royal family. Arthur constantly averted his eyes, but it wasn't as if he could see anyway. He felt himself being guided out of the vehicle and onto the rocky path leading to the castle entrance. He wobbled as he began to take his first steps on the uneven ground, unused to wearing heels, another item of clothing his parents deemed necessary for him to wear. His ankles would bend and twist with every step and he felt servants grab his arms as he was led to the door. Arthur wanted to yelp in pain, but he had to refrain from using his voice from now on. His parents explained that he would pretend to be a mute for the time being.

Arthur couldn't understand why his parents thought this would work. He knew that in America it was customary for the parents to reside in the house of the groom for a few weeks after the marriage to ensure that everything was proper and settled. Arthur knew that if the scheme was meant to fail, his parents would try their best to get out of the castle as soon as possible. He would just have to pretend until they left, and then all would be revealed. Arthur would probably be hanged and his parents would probably have safely returned to the kingdom of England, the power of the kingdom of America under their wing regardless of what was taking place now.

Speaking of now, Arthur felt himself being led through the door. It was about time, too. He felt as if he had been standing there for hours. But then again, he had to wait for the guests to get settled inside so they could be prepared for when the bride entered. The wedding would be a quiet one. With such rebels on the loose, it was a bad idea to advertise to too many nobles. Only the most important people were there, the ones that his parents wanted to save face in front of.

Upon stepping into the castle entrance, the sound of trumpets and music played. A bouquet of flowers was thrust into his hands as he was pushed forward. And that's when Arthur saw him.

Alfred. The man he would be marrying. Marrying. The music played, but Arthur did not budge from his spot. His heart was beating furiously in his chest and he willed it to slow down. He wasn't ready for marriage! And this trick, this charade…how long could it possibly last? Arthur felt the eyes of the other nobles on him as he stood there. He scrunched his eyes and wished his face wasn't so red, not recalling that his face was currently veiled. His hands shook and he swallowed a lump in his throat. He almost wanted to cry at this humiliating situation.

Arthur tried looking up to get a better look at Alfred, but he honestly couldn't see. He had to bite back his anger. This man…this cruel man, thinking he could make Isla his bride. Arthur wanted to charge up the carpet lining his path and punch the lousy bastard in the face…but he couldn't. Not now. When he was caught, which he knew he would be, Arthur would be sure to punch him then in order to reclaim what little dignity he had before Alfred had him killed.

Alfred saw Isla shaking, the bouquet of flowers gripped too tightly for it to escape notice. Alfred let out a shaky breath. This is it, he thought as he saw Isla's father begin to lead her toward the altar.

His brother Matthew was by his side. Alfred clutched his hand, needy for some form of comfort. He could only confide in his twin brother how he felt about his whole situation. Matthew was easy to talk to because he always listened to matter how long Alfred rambled. There had only been one situation when Matthew had talked for as long as he usually did, and that time it was to complain about what a lousy brother he had. But this was no time to be thinking about upsetting memories. Alfred had to be thinking about what was happening now.

Clutched in his hand was the ring, given to him by a servant as soon as Isla's mother had stepped off the carriage. After the servant had been given the ring by Isla's mother, she ran inside the castle before the bride could step inside. She placed the ring in Alfred's hand and offered her comforting words before rushing back to her post. That was the nice thing about the servant girl…she was always so sweet.

Fondling the ring in his hand, Alfred continued to stare at his bride. Her figure was…stiff. That's the only word Alfred could think of at the moment. Her hourglass figure looked forced, as if someone had stuck her in a too-tight corset. Her shoulders were broad, much broader than what other women's shoulders looked like. Isla's hair framed her face, much like the servant girl who had handed him the ring. Unfortunately for Alfred, Isla's face was covered by a veil. However, he continued to eye the rest of her body.

She was thin, but not in a womanly sort of way. She looked like she had muscles, but they were tightly bound rather than being big and noticeable. Perhaps it was because Isla seemed so tense. Isla had a small bust and an even smaller waist. Alfred wrapped his free arm around his own waist, feeling bad that Isla was wearing such a small corset.

As soon as Isla approached his side, Alfred unclenched his hand from his brother's and tried to see past the veil of his future wife. Her head was bent, however, so all hope of seeing her face was lost for the moment.

The priest began to speak. He proclaimed powerful sayings, detailing the importance of the marriage and how future generations would look upon this day and speak of its great impact on the United Kingdom of England and America. This only made Alfred more nervous. He felt a nudge by the priest, who looked towards his ring.

"O-oh!" Alfred exclaimed, quickly taking Isla's hand and placing the ring on her finger. It was a tight fit, but he got it on nonetheless. The priest began to speak again.

"You must say your vows, sir," he said to Alfred with a mocking tone in his voice. The rest of their audience laughed.

"Uh, right!" Shit, Alfred thought, mentally berating himself. He hadn't thought of his vows yet! He didn't know he would even need them since they're meant for someone you love rather than for someone who you're being forced to marry. "Um, Isla…" he began, "I…I know that this marriage is…well, really important. You know, to you and, um, your parents…" Alfred was beginning to fumble. He couldn't think straight, not with all this pressure on him. "I want to say that, well, I think…I would make a good husband, and…I'm sure that, in time, we'll be…happy together." Alfred ended his awkward speech there. He looked towards Isla, ready to hear what she had to say.

Which was nothing, apparently. She just stood there. Everyone was looking towards her, ready to hear her speak. But she remained as silent as ever. Isla pulled back her hand and placed it back on the bouquet, which she continued to grip tightly.

Alfred shuffled his feet awkwardly. Isla's father, who had taken a place to the priest's right, whispered something in his ear. The priest had a look of confusion at first, but simply shrugged his shoulders and made an announcement. "It appears that the bride cannot speak," he said. Alfred's eyes widened in shock. She couldn't talk? Was she mute, or was she just sick? Would Alfred's wife never be able to speak with him? She probably couldn't read or write, so all communication between them would be nonexistent, and as much as Alfred enjoyed being listened to, he wasn't sure if he could handle this.

The priest continued to drone on about happy marriages, until Alfred heard the key words he had been worried over for the past few days. "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride," he said, folding his hands in front of him.

Alfred looked towards Isla. Was he expected to lift her veil? Alfred saw Isla visibly tense at the words. He would just need to be calm, that's all.

Alfred mustered the softest smile he could and gently began to inch his hands near her veil. But before he could do that, a hand was nearly pressed against his face. Isla's hand, that is. She lifted her hand, the knuckles near Alfred's lips. So she wanted him to…kiss her hand? Alfred took the hand and placed a gentle kiss on top before Isla yanked her hand away and clenched it into a fist. Alfred inwardly groaned. How were they supposed to consummate their marriage if she was acting like this? They only need a single night, and Alfred wanted it to be special, at least in some way.

Tonight, Alfred thought worriedly then. He had forgotten about it just now. Alfred looked around and saw the nobles cheering as he took his wife's hand and walked down the aisle they had set up in the main hall. If only all of these eyes would just stop staring! The men were all making lewd faces and had predatory smiles. He averted their gaze and continued to lead Isla away into the dining hall. They were going to eat first before they…before they did…

Alfred couldn't even think about it properly anymore. He felt a tugging on his arm and noticed that Isla was trying to release herself from his grip. Alfred let her hand go and saw her walk straight towards her parents, throwing the bouquet hastily into the air. Nobles were surrounding him now and he was whisked away into the dining room with the other men as the women from the audience followed Isla. He tried to get another glimpse of his wife before she left his sight until tonight.

The women continued to follow "Isla" to the bed chamber. Arthur, however, was not interested in such a room. As soon as he was five meters from his parents, Arthur felt the women's arms tug in his own and lead him. As soon as he reached his mother and father, he walked between them, muttering a mere, "Happy?" before the arms lead him into another room.

A bedroom.

Oh God.


Arthur sat on the edge of the bed and twiddled his fingers. He had completely forgotten about consummating his marriage. If he wasn't caught tonight, he didn't know how long he could keep this up. No doubt Alfred would force him down and try to take him then and there, as if he were a helpless woman.

What if that woman was Isla, Arthur? he wondered to himself. The thought was too terrifying to consider. That bastard, that git, taking his sister's virginity…it was too hard a thought to bear. However, this only made Arthur more aware of his own virginity. He hadn't slept with anyone before, and he honestly didn't know the…rituals that occurred during the process. His father had mercilessly tried to set him up with some of the servant girls. "For practice" he said. But his father's little idea disgusted him to no end, so he would end up merely having a conversation with the woman until dawn had risen.

He also didn't have much practice kissing. He had tried it a few times with the servants who were willing to sleep with him, but…it didn't feel right. Arthur wasn't sure why, but he assumed it was because the servants were a lower class, and lower class lips might not be the same as those of royalty. Arthur had always figured that once his parents arranged a marriage between him and another woman of nobility, the sensations would be different. That maybe his father was wrong in assuming he wasn't interested in women and that it all just depended on her class. Or maybe, and Arthur always scolded himself for thinking this…maybe it was because he wasn't in love yet. But in his world, love like that just didn't exist.

It had been a close call at the altar. Arthur was proud of his quick thinking to use his hand rather than have Alfred reveal his face. Honestly, he was frightened that everyone would quickly find out about his parents' scheme as soon as they all saw his face. It wasn't feminine in the slightest. Arthur was sure people would realize he was a man.

Arthur still felt the tingling sensation on the top of his hand, the exact place where Alfred had kissed him. It had only been a quick little peck, but the action nearly sent shivers down Arthur's spine. These shivers, however, were ones of disgust. That man, that bastard had kissed him. And Arthur was only too afraid of what other places Alfred would try to kiss tonight…

A knock at the door was heard. Arthur immediately bent his head and waited for his husband, like the proper, "obedient" wife should. Alfred was pushed into the room by the other nobles, a little light headed after dining with such overly excited men. The room was lit with many lanterns. As a matter of fact, the room could almost be called bright. Alfred wasn't sure if this was good or bad…he'd have to blow out all the candles if she didn't want him to see her when they…they…

Alfred shook his head and moved to nicer thoughts. He should probably start to talk to her…Isla. His wife. Oh goodness, was the only thing Alfred could think to himself. Pulling at his collar, Alfred gave a bright smile and waved, saying, "Hi!" as happily as he could.

No response.

Well, that figured. "U-um…so…I'm Alfred, although, you probably already knew that…" he said, his voice trailing off as he continued to stare at Isla's form. Her head was bent down and her hands were tightly clasping one another.

"Ok, so," Alfred said, clasping his hands together anxiously. "Consummating the marriage…um, should I, um, turn off all the lights?" he asked, gesturing towards all of the lanterns lighting the room. He mentally slapped himself. He could be much more romantic than this, if only he wasn't so nervous. Sighing, he sat down to the left of Isla on the edge of the bed.

"Look," he said calmly. "This night…it was nerve-wracking for both of us. We've never met, and now we're expected to take such a huge step in our relationship…" Isla crossed her arms and turned her head away. Alfred sighed once more and looked down into his lap. Mustering a bright smile, he continued, "But it's like I said at the altar. I'll make a good husband, I promise!" There was, of course, no response. Although this made the situation more awkward, Alfred was never one to back down.

"I really like your dress," he said, gesturing to the garment Isla was wearing. She crossed her arms tighter, if such a thing were possible. It was almost too much for Alfred to handle. She didn't appear to want to get to know him if her tense body was anything to go by.

Alfred grasped one of the clenched arms with one hand and turned her head to look at him with another. He needed to make her more comfortable. "Can I take off your veil?" he asked softly. She was probably just as nervous as he was, so he tried his best to act composed and comforting. Isla then shook her arm free and turned her body away from him.

This wasn't working.

Alfred decided to be a little forward. He turned her head, again, and held it in both of his hands. Before she could swing away, he took a peck at her exposed cheek, only to be slapped in the face. "Ow!" he exclaimed, holding his hand to his burning cheek. "Ok, ok! Sorry!" he said. "How…how do you expect to consummate the marriage if you won't let me kiss you?" Alfred asked suddenly. His heart was beating quickly. He was already imagining his life with Isla, filled with unhappiness and gloom.

Isla promptly pushed him off the bed for asking such a question.

He landed on the ground with an "oomph!" and now rubbed his sore bottom. "Sorry for asking that too…" he said, looking away. "But you know…" he began, "i-it's not like I'm not nervous about this either, Isla." Alfred saw the body tense as soon as he said her name.

Arthur looked toward the man on the floor now. It was the first time Alfred had said her name from when he had walked into the room. He wasn't sure if he was used to being addressed as his sister, and nor did he think he liked hearing her name on Alfred's lips.

The man was still on the floor, looking up at him now. Arthur wasn't sure what to make of the man. Deep down, he wanted to hate him, and he did hate him for many reasons…but from the sound of his voice, Alfred didn't want to just take ownership of Isla's body. He wanted Isla to feel comfortable…but Arthur didn't want to be touched by the man. He didn't want to be touched by any man. Not only was he incredibly uncomfortable, but he was certain that if Alfred continued with any ministrations that his cover would be blown.

"I'm sorry, Isla…" Alfred said, looking up at Arthur. "One night," he said. "One night of sex and then you produce an heir and then I never bother you again," Alfred stated bluntly. Arthur looked towards the man with wide eyes. "I'll make sure you're comfortable…I just…my parents…" he began, mumbling to himself as he averted his eyes to the ground. Arthur continued to listen. "My parents want an heir so the family line can continue. That's it. If you want to be as far away from me as possible for the rest of your life, give me this one night…just to appease my parents…"

Arthur's fists clenched. It was almost as if he was just an object now. An object that could produce a child for this bastard's sick parents. Did they really think they could do this to Isla?!

"Or…" Alfred began. Arthur was listening intently once more. "Or we could say we did it…and that, well, you're sick, right?" he asked. Arthur wasn't sure whether to shake or nod his head. "You can't speak, so maybe that means you can't produce any children…at least, that's the excuse we could make up, if you want…" he said in a voice so sincere it nearly convinced Arthur that this boy was innocent.

Nearly convinced.

Who knew if Alfred was secretly just tricking him, playing games before he was grabbed and forced onto the bed? Arthur huffed out a sigh of his own, the first response Alfred had heard all day.

Alfred assumed that meant "yes". Quickly, he pushed himself up and sat back down on the bed. Looking towards Isla, he asked, "Can I at least see your face?" Arthur looked up and gulped nervously. This was something he couldn't hide forever. Carefully, Alfred lifted the veil off of Isla's head and took in the sight of her face.

Well. Her face was certainly…different.

Alfred couldn't help but notice just how masculine Isla looked. She quickly turned her head away. It looked like she had been glaring. Although she had been fast, however, Alfred had still managed to get a pretty good assessment of what she looked like. Her face had a strong jaw. The hair that cupped her face looked much too delicate to match her scowl. And her eyebrows…they were enormous! Alfred desperately wanted to point and laugh, but now was not the appropriate time, especially since he would be married to someone so…

She wasn't ugly, that was for sure. If she were a man, she would almost be considered handsome. But this was his wife now, and she most certainly wouldn't enjoy being called a man. Besides, Alfred realized that Isla probably thought herself ugly. He would need to compliment her, make her feel special about her appearance, if only he could find something to flatter her with. Alfred recalled back to plan to find one feature that he liked about Isla. "Hey, look at me…" he said, wanted to peer at her face and see if he could find something he liked in her appearance.

Isla turned her head reluctantly. And that's when Alfred caught the sight of her eyes. Isla's eyes were a beautiful green. It reminded him so much of the luscious grass outside his castle. It reminded him of the outdoors, the vast tracks of land he loved and cherished. This is it… Alfred thought to himself. Her eyes…I can hold on to her eyes…

Alfred now had his compliment! "Y-your eyes…your eyes are really pretty…" he said, pointing at them and smiling. Surely Isla would blush, bat her eyelids and turn away with a small smile on her face.

He was then promptly punched in the arm. "Ow!" he exclaimed again, his hand coming up to cover the sore spot. "I was just giving you compliment, sheesh!" Isla was wearing an even bigger scowl then before. However, her head was turned as he had predicted…and there was actually a pink tinge on her cheeks! It was almost…cute. Alfred found himself smiling despite his sore arm. She had some swing.

Arthur turned away from the man. He didn't like being called pretty in the least. He was a man for goodness sake! Arthur had almost been hoping Alfred would realize this already so his parents could get in trouble as well. Almost was the key word. But he never thought Alfred would call him pretty, even if it was just his eyes. It was embarrassing, to say the least. Arthur attributed the red on his cheeks to more humiliation.

Alfred began to chuckle to himself. He gestured towards the room divider, where Isla could change out of her wedding dress and into her nightgown. "Why don't you get your nightgown on? We'll go with my plan and say we consummated the marriage…is that ok?"

Arthur nodded mutely and walked behind the folding object. He saw his change of clothes on a stool, one of Isla's old nightgowns. He had to keep the corset on, or else Alfred might notice his lack of a figure. That would be uncomfortable tonight. He heard Alfred's shuffling body on the other side of the room divider, most likely changing himself. More pink tinged his cheeks at the thought that they were both undressing in the same room. At least the room divider gave them privacy. And…and at least Alfred had been, dare he say it, sympathetic tonight.

He had originally thought Alfred would force himself on Isla, but now… Arthur could see that wasn't the case. The boy was just as nervous as his sister had been. He didn't seem cruel in the slightest.

But Arthur knew better. He had to keep himself aware. This Alfred could one day snap and become a complete jerk. It was only a matter of time before Arthur found a thousand bad qualities about the man.

Walking out in his nightgown, Arthur placed two hands over his head to make sure his wig was still in place. Alfred was already in bed, his bare back turned towards Arthur. By the sound of his breathing and the look of the soft rising up and down of the blanket, he was nearly asleep. Arthur turned towards every lantern and blew out the light, until darkness consumed the room with the exception of one candle by the bedside.

He slowly lifted the covers and placed himself at the very edge of the bed. He didn't want to go near Alfred at all. He didn't want to touch him, see him, or anything else for that matter. Arthur turned his back towards Alfred as well.

"Goodnight, Isla…" Alfred murmured sleepily. He felt the dip in the bed from when she had laid down and could feel some of her body heat begin to warm the area behind him.

Arthur merely laid his head on his pillow and blew the last candle out, letting the night overtake the new couple's room.


A/N: Well, that was a fun chapter to write. I know I touched on the subject of sex quite a lot, but I'll just forewarn you all that I do not write smut and the inclusion of sex in this story is merely to move the plot forward. Thank you for all your wonderful reviews. I hope you are all enjoying the story so far :)