Perched on one of the stools at the bar, Otto sipped at a pint of ale. His hazel eyes followed the owner as he buzzed around, delivering food and drinks. He was a stout man, rather sluggish as he squeezed between tables and chairs to see that each person received what they had wanted. All the while, he reviewed what he needed to tell Gilbert, calculating when he could say it without being overheard.

The knight slipped in through the front door with a new crowd. It was later so many were starting to fill in for their evening drinks. Many of the people of Österreich were nothing sort of alcoholics though, drinking from the early hours of the morning until they passed out. He hopped up on the stool next to Otto with an apologetic smile. "Sorry I'm a little late," he told him, not giving a reason for his lateness.

"It's fine," Otto told him with a dismissive wave of his hand. Gilbert had not told and he did not ask. He sipped at his drink again, eyes going back to following the corpulent man as he maneuvered about. His eyes darted to others nearby as well, watching for those who might be listening.

"So… what did you want to talk about?" Gilbert inquired with a lifting of his brow. Those shifting eyes made him feel uneasy. There was just enough green in them to remind him of a predatory wild cat.

"Hush, there's no rush," his friend assured him. He was mostly stalling for time though.

They sat in silence, only breaking it when the tavern owner came over to ask Gilbert what he wanted to drink. Gilbert sipped at his drink as did Otto. The albino went through his much faster though and he soon asked for another. Otto was unsure if he wanted Gilbert drunk or not for this conversation. Having him buzzed might serve as a benefit though. It would cloud his judgment some or at least take whatever was distracting him off his mind. Gilbert was there, but obviously distracted, worried. He waited until that expression faded from his face before speaking again.

"When was the last time you were in Preussen?" Otto asked with a quirk of his brow.

Gilbert hummed, trying to think. "About seven months," he answered.

Otto nodded. "So you aren't aware?" Before the knight could ask what he meant though, he continued. "There are plans for a rise up. The people are growing restless under the rule of Edelstein. Power is unstable enough now for them to fight for their own independence."

With a clench of his jaw, Gilbert inquired, "So are they planning on riots and then a war? They can't handle it."

"On the contrary, Pruessen can. We are the military stock market of this kingdom. Our men have been training for some time. Riots are trivial though; the plan is for a full out war. No one can seem to lead the army though. No one holds enough respect or power for anyone to follow them."

Otto never had to explain what he wanted, Gilbert knew in an instant, buzzed or not. "And you think that I can lead this army, am I right?"

"Who better to lead Preussen into a golden age than the nephew of Friedrich the Great? Beside, don't you think you owe it to your kinsmen? Not to mention, you have nothing keeping you here now. It's not as though you are the captain of the guard." Otto was trying to appeal to every point all at once and all of them were valid.

"No," the knight growled. "I'm not turning against the crown."

Sighing, his friend shook his head. "I thought you might say that. Think about what I said though. I'll be leaving at the end of next week. Find me and tell me your answer then." Otto set his payment for his drinks on the table as well as Gilbert's before leaving the tavern. Gilbert rushed after him, almost intent on a physical fight. The other seemed to have vanished into thin air and his anger ebbed away nearly as quickly.

Humming to himself, Arthur hovered a hand over the top of the books on his shelf. He had labeled the journals from previous men in his position with their names and the years that the book spanned through. "Ha," he said aloud as he set a hand to the top of one with the appropriate span of years. He tugged it out before strolling over to his desk, opening it there to begin scanning it over.

The research that he was performing was in regards to the prince's illness. He wanted to check for previous symptoms that might have matched. Searching through the book, he saw several different illness documented with their symptoms. Apparently, Roderich had been a rather sickly child.

"Artie," a voice chimed in. Two strong and slender arms wrapped around his midsection and Arthur jolted, nearly jumping into the air.

Turning around, he spotted his fiancée, a gorgeous woman with curly wheat colored locks that stopped just at her shoulders. Her eyes were the deep colors of the ocean and her bright smile was a ray of sunshine. "Amelia," he regarded her with a small sigh of relief. "What is it? I'm a little busy."

She rested her head on his shoulder. "I know, but you've been working a lot lately. I just wanted to see what you were up to and see if maybe I could pull you away for dinner."

Arthur slanted his lips. "The prince is ill and I am not hungry at the moment." Amelia started to whine and he growled out, "Alfred, don't you have somewhere else you should be?" He completely forgot to sensor his use of names. It was not uncommon for him to yell at her using the name she was born with. After all, when they had first met, Amelia was Alfred.

"Yeah," she told him, not missing a beat but sounding as though she was about to come up with some excuse. "But Mattie had to go. Franny handed the baby off to him so that she could finish dinner. Can I please just stay in here with you? I promise I'll be quiet." She set a hand over her chest and raised the other one as she promised.

Relenting, Arthur nodded. "Fine, but I don't want to hear a peep from you." He wagged his finger and in response she set her fingers to her lips before pretending she had zipped them shut.

She darted off then to pick up a chair and sit beside him. She read over his shoulder. Her attention wavered rather fast and she gave Arthur a light poke. He turned his head long enough to silently glare at her to stop before going back to reading. Amelia sighed before setting her chin on the desk. She blew at a rogue piece of paper lying about. It lifted a few centimeters before falling again.

Concentration all but shattered, Arthur stood up. "Fine! We'll go downstairs for dinner. Anything to get you out of my office," he roared.

"Yes," Amelia cheered, punching a fist into the air. She grabbed his hand before dragging him out of his part of the wing and down the stairs.

When Gilbert had returned, he stopped by the kitchen for his own dinner. Being friends with the cook made it easy to scam a better meal out of the evening. She was busy though, cleaning up while talking to her own husband who was fussing with a cooing baby.

After picking at his food, thinking over what Otto had said, Gilbert trailed back up the stairs to return to Roderich's wing. He knocked twice before opening the door. The prince had woken since he had gone and he was nudging around what was on his plate that must have been brought up to him. His head lifted though as he saw Gilbert. "Where have you been?" he asked with a lifting of his brow. He set his plate down on his bedside table.

"I went out for a drink," the knight answered as he plopped down next to him.

Roderich crinkled his nose in distaste. He failed to see the point in going out drinking at such an early hour. The idea of a drink though was understandable at this moment in time, one much later than the one he assumed Gilbert had left at. He dimly thought that he should have asked for some wine to be sent up with his dinner. Staring at Gilbert though, he frowned. "What's wrong?"

Despite his solemn look, Gilbert shook his head. He managed to feign a smile. "Nothing, Roddy," he assured him.

It was the monarch's turn to shake his head. "You're lying," he pointed out. Given the amount of time they had spent together, it took next to no effort for either of them to pick out a lie in the other. The smile fell and Gilbert stood up. He moved to take Roderich's plate, but the prince set a hand to his arm, stopping him. "Tell me what's wrong," he ordered, voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't worry about it," Gilbert insisted. "It doesn't concern you."

Roderich pulled away, startled by how harsh his voice had suddenly gone. His lips thinned as he drew them into a line. "I see," he responded, obviously still hurt.

His knight faltered, frowning deeply. He turned on his heels though and headed out the door, gridding his teeth. The issue certainly did concern Roderich. It was his kingdom that was threatening to fall with this new arrangement. His loyalties lay with him though, regardless if Preussen had been his home at a younger age. He would let his anger with Otto subside first though before confronting him. Gilbert needed to tread carefully if he wanted to be of any use to the kingdom despite his lack of position.

Author's Notes:

I apologize for taking so long to update and for giving such a short chapter for it. I felt as though this would be a good place to stop for now.
This chapter was meant to only serve to reveal why Otto was really there and show the start of some conflict between Gilbert and Roderich. I can say that it is likely to get worse from here, but I can't say much more than that. Not sure how good my angst will be given me being a fluff monster and all.

Also, Amelia is Alfred turned into a woman. If you read the spin-off, Abracadame, you'll somewhat understand. It is unfinished though so I've indirectly given you the ending to it.

As always, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed.