Chapter IV.

Alfred had never felt as helpless as he did when he watched Arthur disappear behind the doors of the grand palace. He wasn't a dependent person, he didn't like having to rely on anyone. But, for once, he found himself in a position where he simply didn't know what to do.

The stiff necked servants ushered him along the outside of the palace as the coach pulled away and the officials disembarked. Alfred followed behind them like a lost puppy, nervousness growing in his stomach. They finally arrived at an inconspicuous door in the side of the building, which was opened by the manservant. The lady servant gestured for Alfred to follow before sweeping through the entrance gracefully.

Sound reverberated off the stone walls, clanging and banging with loud voices shouting while footsteps walking around briskly filled the air. The overly sanitary smell of soap hit Alfred's nostrils as the lady servant lead him down a set of stairs into the vast room just below the floor level of the palace. Rows of tubs could be seen with woman of all ages carrying bed sheets, curtains, clothes and other materials in and out of the room to be washed and dried. It looked like a busy factory with the working women in uniform, their sleeves rolled up high past their elbows and aprons covering their light blue gowns.

Once they reached the bottom of the stairs the lady turned and looked at Alfred sternly. "I am Madam Wolfe and you will address me as such. I am the head mistress and overseer of the palace. A house keeper if you may. His Highness wishes for you to have a very specific position of employment here and I shall assist you to prepare for it."

"Thanks, ma'am," Alfred said.

She narrowed her piercing eyes before continuing her speech. "I can see you have no experience or knowledge of being a manservant. You're clearly a laborer. We must correct this and educate you immediately. You will have to learn everything before tonight, do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Alfred said again.

Madam Wolfe seemed satisfied enough with that answer and gestured at one of the young girls carrying buckets of water into the room, stopping her in her work.

"I'd like you and a few other girls to prepare a tub with soap and warm water. This boy is not taking a single step further inside until he is scrubbed clean," the head mistress commanded loudly.

The girl's head turned toward Alfred and she gawked for a moment, her eyes traveling up and down. Suddenly she began to titter in laughter and the young man blushed. She was obviously picturing him naked.

"Run along, girl!" Madam Wolfe snapped with a roll of her eyes. "This is the royal palace, not some circus!"

The girl ran into the frenzy of the room obediently. The head mistress sighed in impatience and led Alfred into a more private nook of the room. The girl returned with a tub big enough for him to stand in and began to fill it with steamy water, her friends helping as they ogled and giggled behind their hands. Luckily they were shooed off when Alfred stepped behind the curtain that had been raised for him. Another servant, a man thankfully, was positioned in front of the makeshift bath so that he could wash himself without fear of an audience.

Alfred quickly stripped and stepped into the tub, the warm water reaching his calves. Soap had already been added and mixed; he had been given a sponge, which he frothed and used to scrub the dirt from his skin and hair. He made sure he was thorough as he didn't want to be sent back just because he might have missed a spot behind his ear. Once he was clean from head to toe he picked up a bucket of clear water beside the tub and dumped it over his head, rinsing off the soap. A towel was handed to him and he dried off just as Madam Wolfe returned.

"Pass out your old clothes, we'll donate them to an orphanage since you have no need of them anymore," she said.

Alfred felt heat flood his face again but he bit back his questions and passed them through. A second later his hand brushed something smooth and he pulled it back behind the curtain, gripping new clothes of soft blue.

"Your uniform," Madam Wolfe explained shortly.

The head mistress was excellent at guessing. Alfred put on the new clothes to find that they fit perfectly, even though the entire outfit made him uncomfortable. The pants were loose and simple, black polished shoes now adorned his feet. A pale blue vest rested over a simple white shirt with a black tie tucked formally under the vest. Black bands were fitted over the sleeves of his shirt on his upper arms although he had no idea what the purpose of this was. When he stepped out from behind the curtain Madam Wolfe scanned him critically before nodding and holding out a pair of white gloves to him.

"It'll do. Cover your hands, they ruin your image."

Slightly stung from that comment, Alfred took the gloves and pulled them over his fingers as he followed Madam Wolfe back through the washroom. Several girls waved to Alfred when he passed and his steps grew faster, eyes fixed firmly on the back of the lady's graying head before him while a flush blossomed across his cheeks. She lead him through busy corridors full of servants running about to complete their work, the path twisting and turning until Alfred felt lost and dizzy. He was shown the many routes through the palace, warned that most of the time he should walk through the servant corridors rather than through the main halls. He was forced to memorize the layout of the entire palace and was drilled on typical routine. Overwhelmed and gradually growing frustrated, Alfred found himself biting his tongue more and more until he could taste blood. Arthur wanted him to be here, the least he could do was keep his smart mouth to himself.

When they passed through the kitchens, however, Alfred's sullen attitude changed drastically. He stared with eyes as wide a saucers at the monstrous amount of food being prepared. Meats were being grilled and roasted, vegetables fried and stewed, cakes and breads rising in doughy glory, spices and seasoning filled the air of the bustling kitchen. He licked his lips free of drool before casting a quick glance at Madam Wolfe, who was currently having a heated discussion with the head chef. Since she wasn't looking, Alfred snatched a biscuit from a rack of cooling pastries and stuffed it down his pants pocket to eat later.

Take that, Madam, Alfred smirked as she finally turned around and lead him out of the kitchen.

At last she lead him up to the Queen's tower, which happened to be positioned very high from the lower levels of the palace. They climbed staircases, long ones, short ones, spiraled ones, crooked ones, old and new until Alfred felt as if his feet were about to fall off. He would've complained but a sharp look from the head mistress quickly shut him up and kept his suffering internal. As she opened another door leading to yet another set of stairs, Alfred looked out of the window nearby and debated about jumping out to save himself from this nightmare. Not for the first time in his life, he was jealous of birds and their wonderful wings.

With a heavy sigh he trudged up after her. They reached the top within minutes and she pushed open a door weighed down by something heavy. Alfred stepped through and saw the servant's entrance to the tower was hidden by an old tapestry of the first Queen of Spades. Panting from the climb, he looked around and couldn't help but admire the cozy tower. Instead of boring old blue, the carpets and curtains were lovely hues of purple, giving the place a refreshing atmosphere. The windows were wide, letting in bright light to show the beautiful paintings, old tapestries, and elegant candle holders. Pushed against the walls were sets of ornate furniture, tables with vases of fresh flowers and stuffed chairs beside them.

Madam Wolfe showed Alfred the Queen's apartments so that he was familiar with them; this was the place he would need to know most importantly. The drawing room was quaint, a large fireplace lined one wall while the others had windows overlooking the palace grounds and gardens. Through another set of doors a small room occupied with boxes was classified as a closet for the Queen's clothes. Alfred was shown the bathroom that had a porcelain tub lined with gold, the cabinets filled with vials of soaps and scents. The bedroom had a bed so large Alfred could lay on it and sketch his limbs as far as he could without touching any of the sides. Not that he attempted this in front of Madam Wolfe.

Once the tour of the rooms were finished along with the list of daily chores Alfred would have to see to, the head mistress lead him back into the hall of the tower and led him to another door hidden by a simple tapestry. He groaned when a curved staircase was revealed behind it. She led him up higher into the tower to another apartment space but this one was far more smaller and modest. There was a bathroom, a closet, and a bedroom, a simple bed and table were the only furniture inside. The windows were smaller so the room was darker and bare of any decorations. Madam Wolfe announced that this was to be his living space.

When Alfred raised an eyebrow at her in disbelief she rolled her eyes and walked to the corner of the room to show him a bell, the cord of which to pull it disappeared into the wall.

"The cord is in the Queen's apartment, if she pulls this then she is summoning you. You must respond immediately no matter the time or what you are doing. Never leave this tower when the Queen is here." Madam Wolfe turned toward Alfred as she finished her explanation. Without a word she suddenly extended her hand, palm upward, as if she expected him to give her something.

Alfred stared in confusion for a moment. "What?"

He could tell she was trying to be patient. "I do not have the time for games, young man. Empty your pockets."

Alfred realized she could smell the lingering scent of the freshly baked biscuit in his pocket and he mentally cursed himself for being so thoughtless. Outwardly, however, he kept up his charade of innocence and stuffed his hand in his empty pocket before pulling out his hand to show he had nothing there.

"Your other pocket now," Madam Wolfe said coolly.

She wasn't so easy to trick. Alfred made note of this as he slowly slipped his hand into his other pocket. He hesitated and then pulled out his fist before opening it, revealing his empty palm. The head mistress's eyes instantly scanned his pockets for a bulge and she hummed low when she saw none before she swept out of the room and shut the door behind her.

Alfred breathed a sigh of relief as her footsteps faded and he slipped the bread out of his shirt sleeve. He'd have to be more careful next time he decided to raid the kitchen. He sat on the hard mattress and ate his stolen treat as he looked out at the sky through his window.

Arthur never came into his tower throughout the rest of that day. Alfred only had about an hour to himself in the quiet tower before an assistant of Madam Wolfe's check on him and screamed about his laziness. The blond boy stuck a finger in his ear as if attempting to pull the ringing out of them as he began to try and act productive. He now knew the head mistress had spies all over the place to make sure no one was stepping out of line. That was really unfair. Of course, Alfred was fresh meat so he was constantly interrupted while he worked to be criticized by fellow servants. That or swooned over by chambermaids. Either way, the attention was unwanted.

Alfred discovered the boxes in Arthur's new closet were the crates that contained his old clothes and items. The servant snorted as he began to unpack, this should have already been done. Maybe the wagon had arrived very late in the night, it seemed the only plausible reason for the boxes to be left so carelessly.

The gloves Madam Wolfe had given Alfred quickly became a nuisance as well as a hindrance. They were catching on things and leaving him floundering for a full minute as he struggled not to rip the delicate material. But the worst part was the lack of feeling the gloves gave. Alfred couldn't feel the softness of Arthur's coats in his hand or the rugged wood of the crates against his fingertips. It only served as a reminder of his new life, it was supposed to be cold and unfeeling as well as hiding his flaws. It felt backhanded and impersonal. Alfred hated it. Eventually he couldn't take it any longer and tore them off, angrily stuffing them in his pockets. He'd rather risk people see his offending hands and deal with the consequences of his misbehavior than have those things strangle all human feeling out of him.

Alfred hung Arthur's clothes in the closet, the Queen's current wardrobe barely took up any room. He assumed the ruler would be given new clothes in time. He went through the rest of Arthur's things and put them where he assumed they belonged. Occasionally a maid pointed out that some items were best placed elsewhere for whatever reason. But most of the time he was just called stupid for not knowing how to arrange anything. Alfred rolled his eyes every time. He was used to building barns, taking care of animals, fixing broken tools, and tending to the gardens on the Kirkland manor. The placement of a doily was far beyond his comprehension.

His work wasn't even acknowledged when Arthur finally came to the tower although Alfred didn't feel upset by that in the least. The exhausted look on the new Queen's face made Alfred realize that Arthur was dealing with far more worrisome tasks than learning how to keep a room nice. The green eyed man didn't even seem to see him, he just drifted through the apartments until he found the bed and collapsed. Alfred quickly retrieved a blanket for him and placed it over the ruler, murmuring soothing nothingness into the air in sympathy.

"Morning, Arthur!" Alfred said cheerfully as he pulled the curtains in front of the bedroom window open.

Light poured into the room and directly into bleary green eyes. Arthur groaned and pulled the blanket over his head to block out the blinding sun. Alfred only laughed as he tied the curtains back against the wall with a cord before going into the drawing room to fetch the breakfast tray a maid had brought up. He had made sure that a cup of tea was served with it as well, he knew Arthur loved tea.

When he brought the tray in Arthur was sitting up in bed, his hair sticking up at all angles as if he had been hit with lightning. The smaller man's facial expression certainly looked like he had just been electrocuted, he was staring stunned as his lap while running his hands over the blanket disbelievingly.

"Hey, are you okay?" Alfred asked as he set the tray on the bedside table.

Arthur barely moved. "Yes, I'm alright."

His tone was vacant as if his mind was far away and, instead of reassuring Alfred as the words had intended to, only made the servant worried. The taller blond sat on the edge of the bed, forcing Arthur to look up at him.

"You sure?" Alfred asked seriously.

"Of course I'm sure," Arthur snapped impatiently, annoyance raising his tone to its regular pitch.

Alfred grinned. That was the Arthur he knew. Instead of being discouraged by Arthur's grumpiness, the servant boy was encouraged by it and he scoot closer to the young royal with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Are you positive? Because last I checked you were Arthur, not Okay."

"What are you-?" Arthur snorted and shoved the grinning boy back. "You're ridiculous."

"Nope! I'm Alfred!" Alfred rolled off the bed quickly as a pillow was thrown at him.

Resisting the urge to laugh, Alfred moved to the bedside table and lifted the cup of tea by its saucer and offered it to the grumpy Queen in one smooth motion. He tucked his left arm behind his back and bowed exaggeratedly.

"Would Your Highness care for some tea?" he asked, dropping his voice into a fake pompous butler tone.

Alfred lifted his head just in time to catch Arthur smiling, his eyes softening and his shoulder shaking lightly in a chuckle. Radiant color burst in Alfred's chest like a flower opening its petals in the face of the sun. He had made Arthur smile and that was all that mattered to him.

Arthur gently took the saucer and lifted the cup to his lips with a polite "thank you". He sipped and Alfred watched as he visibly relaxed. The Queen didn't speak as he drank his tea in peace, eyes closed in obvious bliss. Once the cup was empty the green eyes opened and the smaller hand held the cup out toward his servant to take.

"Thank you, Alfred," he said with a smile.

"You're welcome, Arthur," Alfred grinned and placed the cup back on its tray.

Arthur stood and stretched, giving his manservant an odd look.

"Why are you wearing gloves?" he asked suddenly.

Alfred froze and looked down at his hands before remembering. "Oh yeah. Madam Wolfe, that's the head mistress, she said I had to wear them. She said my hands ruined my image and they needed to be covered up. I guess no one wants to look at scarred hands in the royal palace."

The boy rolled his eyes and was about to see to his other duties but was halted when Arthur took his hands. Delicate fingers pinched the ends of the material and pulled the gloves off. Alfred looked up in surprise at Arthur's thoughtful expression as the ruler began to trace the callouses on the servant's hands.

"I think these are the most beautiful hands I've ever seen," Arthur declared after a silent moment. "They're honest, hard-working hands. A story is written here."

Alfred could only stand mutely as Arthur finally drew his hands back and tossed the gloves aside. The young Queen drew himself up to his full height and met the servant's blue eyes.

"Be proud of your hands. And if I see those gloves again they're going into the fire," with a firm nod Arthur walked off into the bathroom.

Alfred smiled as he watched him go before remembering Arthur would need hot water for his bath. The boy jolted and ran out of the room, sprinting down the tower steps to hail a maid to request the water. This life was going to be hard to grow accustomed to, but as long as he could be with Arthur and make the young Queen smile then it wouldn't be a bad one.

Author's Notes:

*rises from the ashes* I LIIIIIIIIIIVVVVVVVVVVEEEEEEEEEEEEE. Hi. Mildly ashamed I haven't updated in a little over a week...*cringe* Just as I said I'd consistently updated every 4-5 days. Sorry.

After I came home from my two-day trip I kind of died inside. But I'm back now. With more ideas and inspiration for this fic! Ha! So...this chapter is the shortest I've written in this story. Hope y'all don't mind that, it's a fun one anyway. I decided to put a little more of Alfred's perspective into the story because...because. Yeah.

Don't worry, I promise you the plot gonna pick up. Romance is on its way! *throws rose petals into the air* ...I suck at romance. We'll see how this goes.

THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO READ, REVIEWED, FOLLOWED, FAVORITED, STARTED TO READ BUT GOT BORED, THREW ACROSS THE ROOM IN FRUSTRATION OR SQUEALED OVER IN EXCITEMENT. I appreciate the feedback! I hope you enjoyed it so far and I hope you'll stick it through to the end. Until next time.