The dimly-lit room was cool when Arthur entered. It had the same sterile scent you would find in a doctor's office, but it also held the same cozy atmosphere a bedroom should.

The room was large (as to be expected of a king's quarters). The windows were lengthy with long blue curtains pulled over them, casting a cool light over everything. A couple maids stood by the king's bed, adjusting the sheets or checking his temperature. Though the bed's canopy hung low, Arthur could make out the king lying dully in the center.

Setting his bag on the bedside table, Arthur spoke a few words with one of the maids before reaching out to the king. His skin was pale and hot to the touch. At the pharmacist's cool touch, he stirred and peeked open his azure eyes.

He was a very large man (his muscles could even be made out from under the sheets), but despite the intimidating stature, his gaze was very gentle. Arthur immediately recognized his eyes as being the same as his son Alfreds.

"Hello, your Majesty. My name is Arthur Kirkland, I was sent here with medicine to assist you in your illness," he said quietly, picking a few vials out of his bag.

The king stared at him for a long time, and Arthur began to grow unnerved. 'Can he tell I have magic?' he thought, but then the king's face grew into a gentle smile. "Ah, you are the doctor from the east my son told me about. It's a pleasure to meet you in person,"

The king extended a shaking hand to Arthur. "The pleasure is all mine, your Majesty," he replied, carefully shaking his hand.

The king coughed briefly into his arm before allowing his head to fall back onto the pillow, tired eyes staring up at the ceiling.

"I appreciate my son bringing you here, but I'm afraid it was in vain. Despite what my children try and tell me, I am dying and I know it. You can pack up your medicine, son, I have no need for that here."

"But your Majesty, you cannot just give up, all people of Spades are counting on you to lead them!" Arthur said, shocked at how at peace the king was with just rolling over and accepting defeat. He ruled Spades, the most aggressive and prideful kingdom, yet was allowing himself to be brought down by a mere illness.

The kings laugh was hollow. "But you see, there is nothing anyone can do...this is not a story I tell many people, but something tells me you should hear it," Arthur looked at him suspiciously, but the king continued.

"Long, long ago, when Spades was having one of their many wars with Clubs, Spades had taken one of their mighty mages as prisoner. He had screamed non-stop as they brought him in, claiming to be a pawn used by clubs and that he was loyal to the Spadian crown," he looked distantly out the window, blue eyes far away.

"Of course, they did not listen and had him tortured as well as scheduled to be executed the next afternoon. When the time came and he was brought up to the guillotine, the man spit on the crowd and cursed Spades, cursed himself for ever being loyal to them, and finally, cursed the monarch to an endless cycle of death and suffering."

Arthur was shocked. He barely understood the laws of curses and long lasting spells, but he was smart enough to understand why the king was telling him this story, why magic was such a crime in this kingdom. "So that means…"

"Yes," the king nodded. "The current king at that time, my great great great great grandfather, died exactly a week after the execution from mysterious illness. Ever since then, kings or heirs to the Spade's crown have all died from the same illness, suffering with a weakened body and pain until dropping dead."

"But there has to be a way to end it, a counter curse, a cure…"

Talking took a lot out of the king in his weakened state, so he just shook his head before allowing his eyes to flutter closed and body to to limp.

Unsure what to do with this new information, Arthur packed his bag up and left to retire to his room. He knew it was stupid coming here, he knew there would be nothing he could do, and resolved to request a horse tomorrow to take him home. Tampering with powerful curses was dangerous and he had no desire to do anything of the sort.

But as he was walking down the halls to his room, he felt a tab on his shoulder and turned to see prince Alfred's face in his. "Arthur! Just the guy I was looking for!" He said.

Arthur, internally cringing, turned to face the prince and greet him. It had been a long day and all he really wanted was to get back to him room and sleep, but gentlemen were polite and didn't run away from conversation.

"Did you speak with my father? Is he cured? Oh, how are you? Did you get lost? I know the castle can be confusing to get around! How did…" he trailed off, chuckling to himself slightly at the look on Arthur's face before becoming more serious. "Sorry, I got carried away. But I mean, did you speak with him?"

"Yes, I spoke with him for a while, but…" Arthur looked as the prince, his grin that seemed ever so forced and his mussed up hair. As the older twin he was the heir to the throne, which meant doing all the king's work while he was ill. Deciding not to give the prince even more to stress about, he said, "It went well."

The prince's smile seemed to grow a bit more genuine, and he clapped Arthur on the shoulder and thanked him. Offering to lead the way back to Arthur's room, he replied with a small but heartfelt, "I'd like that."

The walk back was quite long (as it turns out, Arthur had been heading in the complete wrong direction), but prince Alfred was great company. He felt like his humor and personality would fit in really well with his brothers', but then again, they all hated anything that came from the capital.

He felt a warm feeling in his chest by the time they made it to his door, but the feeling was plagued by the guilt of lying to him, as well as the dread of telling Alfred tomorrow of his departure. Staying was useless though, as there was nothing he could do for the king without magic, which was not even an option.

/

When Arthur woke up the next morning, it was because of the loud noises coming from the hallway. It sounded as if there was a stampede of bulls was let loose out there. Changing into more acceptable clothing, he glanced out the window and noticed a whole sea of people surrounding the castle that certainly wasn't there yesterday.

The hallways were so clogged with people trying to go every which way that even getting out his door was a hassle. The maid outside his door tried and failed to shove her way through a group of stable workers.

"Excuse me?" He asked her, "Do you have any idea what's going on?"

She looked at him as if he had grown a second head.

"Haven't you heard the news? The king is dead, he passed away last night in his sleep."

/

thank you for reading :-)