Disclaimer: Hetalia's not mine.
Matthew looked up from his bowl of rice, blinking at the pile of books that had been plunked down in front of him. "Eh?"
"Look at those!" Alfred squatted down, grinning. "I saw them and thought of you and had to get them."
Matthew wiped his hands off on his blanket and tugged the books close, running his fingers over them. "The Queen's Secret. Sounds naughty. And... a cookbook?"
"I liked the pictures..."
"Of course. A History of Clubs?"
"Is that what that is?"
"The pages look great. And the spines. Are these new?"
Alfred beamed. "I got them at the book store."
"You did?" Matthew groaned. "Al, we can't afford new books..."
"We can now!"
"You can't just spend all your money!"
"Why not? I'll get more tomorrow."
Matthew took a deep breath. "After you buy my medicine tomorrow, you're coming home and giving me the rest of the money. I'm coming up with a budget."
"What?" Alfred visibly deflated, running his fingers over one of the books. "I thought you'd like them. They're good books."
"You don't read."
"The shopkeeper said they were good."
Matthew patted his brother's hand. "They look good. Thank you. But we need to start budgeting and being careful with our spending and saving for the future."
"If you say so." Alfred scooped himself a bowl of rice and settled down beside Matthew.
"Did you wash your hands? You know what you do all day..."
"I washed, mother."
Matthew's lips quirked. "How was work today?" He knew he was enjoying it, knowing his twin was perfectly safe, doing an honest day's work, in no danger of being assaulted or arrested or murdered. Probably.
"Oh, fine. Princess thought my hair was food again."
"Whose horse is that, anyway?"
"I don't know. I'm hoping a little girl."
Matthew bit into a slice of bread, licking butter off his lips. "How is Peter?"
Alfred rolled his eyes. "The same. A little brat now that he's used to me. Insists he's an adult..."
"Ah. And Yao?"
"I haven't seen him lately."
"Have you met anyone new?" Matthew couldn't help it. Even with his daily medication, he was unable to leave their home, having to live vicariously through his brother.
Alfred shrugged, mouth full of rice. "I see stable hands around that I don't know yet. And soldiers. I haven't met anyone new the last couple days."
"Oh."
"I'll let you know if I do." Alfred nudged his brother. "So tell me what the book says."
"Which one?" Matthew glanced toward the book Alfred pointed at. "The cookbook...?" He blinked at Alfred, then shrugged and picked the book up to find a nice recipe to read.
Alfred hummed as he dumped the water into the trough, then set the empty bucket aside. The horses he was in the middle of exercising out in the field trotted over, thirsty after their run. Alfred picked up a brush and moved over to groom them as long as they were standing still.
In the week he had been tending to the stables, a few horses in particular had started standing out to Alfred as his favorites. He had grown rather fond of a chestnut mare named Dreamer, who was being a bit of a nuisance by trying to nuzzle him while he was attempting to brush her, losing interest in her water. Alfred laughed, rubbing her nose.
"Silly thing. You know it's hard to brush you when you do that?
"She's a good girl, isn't she?"
Alfred jumped slightly, whirling around to face the intruder. He sagged in relief when he saw it was just another stable boy, helping groom Dreamer with a brush of his own. This one was a bit more nicely dressed than the others, even wearing a long blue coat and a ridiculous white bow around his neck. The silliest things, though, were his huge bushy eyebrows.
Then he looked up, and Alfred was struck by his piercing green eyes. "Oh. Yes, yes she is." He returned his brush to the shining coat.
"So you're Alfred," the stable boy said. "I've been hearing about you."
"Oh yeah?" Well that was a silly thing to say, of course the other stable boys had heard about the new one.
"Yes. I'm sorry about your brother. Though he's lucky to be alive, hm?"
Alfred nodded. "Very lucky." Judging by the way the other fellow's emerald eyes went distant, he was probably remembering somebody who hadn't been so lucky.
"Sick for all these years... I don't think I could stand that. I'd have ended it ages ago."
Alfred reacted without thinking, lashing out with a fist and catching the shorter man on the chin, knocking him backward. He looked up at Alfred in shock, raising a hand to his injured face, eyes wide. Alfred could only gape back, heart hammering. Why did I do that? I'm so stupid! He'll tell what I did and I'll be in trouble and get kicked out and I can't afford that! What do I do? He thought he was about to keel over when the other man simply smiled.
"I'm sorry."
"Huh?" Alfred blinked.
"I didn't mean to imply anything about your brother."
"Oh." Alfred rubbed the back of his neck, staring at his feet. "S'okay. Sorry for hitting you." He was such an idiot. This job was everything, he couldn't screw it up! He had to be on friendly terms with his coworkers. "Well, I'm Alfred. Oh! You already knew that."
"Yes." He smiled again, running his brush over the horse's flank.
"Well." Alfred barked a nervous laugh. "Now that you're here, you can help me shovel shit!"
He flicked a glance over to the shovel, which had flies buzzing around it. "I'd rather not..."
Some help. Alfred shrugged. "Okay." He resumed working, but his gaze kept being drawn back to the other man, mesmerized by his unusual eyes.
And annoyed by the way those eyes were always focused somewhere around the area of Alfred's ass. He'd be tempted to complain about him, if that stupid punch weren't hanging over his head. The unspoken blackmail kept him from seriously considering it. Every time he grew irritated by the heated looks directed toward him, he focused on the red mark on the other man's cheek and grew even more annoyed with himself for effectively ruining any chances of getting the fellow thrown out.
"Well." Alfred coughed. He was finding himself increasingly eager to get away from those heated eyes. Nevermind how pretty they were. "I guess I should get these girls back inside."
"I guess so. And afterward, perhaps you could-"
"Hey!"
Saved by the brat. Alfred turned to face the rapidly approaching boy, grinning in relief. "Hi, Peter!"
"Sorry I'm late, I-" He cut himself off, almost falling over as a result of his abrupt halt. His sea-blue eyes grew wide. "Y-Your Majesty...!"
Alfred blinked, staring down at Peter's horrified expression in bafflement. "Your what?" He followed the horrified gaze. The green-eyed man just looked amused, still brushing the horse.
Peter loudly gulped. "Your Majesty, what are you... why are you... er..."
Alfred looked back and forth between them. Peter was playing an elaborate joke. The Queen would not be assisting in the stables, what a ridiculous idea.
What did the Queen look like again? Alfred desperately sought through his memory for any mention of a description.
But then another stable boy noticed them, and quickly dropped to his knees on the grass.
Alfred's blood ran cold as he stared back at the man. The Queen...
He was dead. This time, he really was going to die.
The Queen just smiled. "Would you come with me, Alfred?"
