When Arthur didn't show up for dinner, Alfred hadn't been worried. The Overseer was a busy man and it was hardly unusual for him to keep Alfred waiting. No, Alfred had ignored the shadow of darkness creeping through the windows and slowly shrouding his surroundings with a blanket of black. He wouldn't have even lifted himself from the couch to light a few of the oil lamps scattered around the room if not for the book in his hands which was becoming increasingly hard to read.

Still, the dark ink, which usually stood out on the white parchment, had begun to swim in front of Alfred's line of vision until he had to concede and admit defeat. There would be no more adventures of the Far East for him that night. Alfred gave a small sigh and closed the book. Perhaps it was for the best. Arthur had gifted it to him only the week before and he was almost halfway through. If he wanted to draw it out as long as possible, he would have to limit himself to a few pages every day.

The leather binding of the book gleamed in the lamplight, reminding Alfred of how awed he had been when Arthur had returned from his day's work one night and presented him with the manuscript. The man had been smiling softly as Alfred exclaimed in delight before remembering his place and lowering his eyes as he accepted the gift with a mumbled 'thank you'.

Arthur must have noticed the grin Alfred had been biting back because his hand had quickly snaked beneath Alfred's chin and prompted it upwards, forcing Alfred to meet his gaze and mirroring the joy he saw in his face.

"You do not need to suppress your emotions when I am present," he had admonished before leaning close and pressing their lips together in a short kiss.

Yeah, right, Alfred had wanted to say, but instead he melted into the kiss just like he knew Arthur loved and hugged the manuscript close to his chest. If Arthur wanted to play house and treat him like a lover, well, why the hell not? It didn't matter that it reeked of fake and that the only thing Arthur was really drawn to was Alfred's body—Alfred had little choice in the matter anyway. He was being pampered and groomed just like the concubines he had seen in the harem and had envied.

Why shouldn't he be happy?

Alfred ran his fingers absently over the leather, eyes gazing far away into the distance of his mind. In retrospect, he shouldn't have been as excited as he had felt when given the book. Arthur had made it clear that once Alfred was finished with it, the book would be returned to his office. Neither of them actually owned it and once that had been made clear, the short lived prospect of owning something of his own had been completely eliminated.

That didn't stop him from growing attached to the delicate pages and steady script. Knowing that he would have to return the book only made the characters and story grow all the more dear to him. It was almost magical how a small pile of pages with words etched onto them and sewn together into a whole illuminated Alfred's life so. Books had always been fascinating in Alfred's mind, all the more so when he had nothing better to do than to curl up and read.

The lamps would soon need to be refilled, if Alfred were to judge by the flickering light consuming the thin wick. He casted his eyes at the fruit platter on the table and frowned. Alfred had grown accustomed to a warm dinner every night ever since he had been taken into the Overseer's rooms. Soups, stews and even roasts would be placed in front of him and his master, and Alfred had quickly adapted. He had been all too happy to take food for granted when he'd known hunger in his not so distant past.

There would be no dinner, though, until Arthur returned. The fruit were supposed to be a light snack in between meals, not a replacement. No amount of famished lamentation from his stomach could convince Alfred otherwise. He could hardly end his day without a proper meal but he was just as unlikely to summon a servant on his own to bring him something from the kitchen.

What on earth was Arthur doing?

With one last look at his book, Alfred pushed himself off from the couch onto his feet, stretching his arms over his head and yawning. He couldn't do anything to summon Arthur back to their quarters, no matter how much he willed the man to open the door. Oh, the Overseer didn't even have to actually return in order to make Alfred happy—it would be wonderful if Arthur simply sent a kitchen servant to him with his dinner, preferably with the order to not wait up for him. That would be one order Alfred wouldn't have a problem following with a smile.

...or couldn't he? Find Arthur, that is. Alfred had yet to leave the Overseer's room for the few weeks he'd been there, but the man had never forbidden him from doing so. True, he refused Alfred's hesitant requests to visit his friends and stretch his legs, but could that be seen as a command to stay put for all eternity? He was under house arrest, not imprisoned in a solitary cell.

Alfred walked towards the door and paused in front of it, hand on the knob. If he was caught wandering about the halls by the guards, would he be in trouble? He doubted they would recognize him, even if he did come upon one of them on his mission. Alfred no longer looked like the gaunt kitchen aid he had been when they had arrested him. With the extra meat on his bones and the fine material on his back, he wouldn't be surprised if the guards would mistake him for one of lord Bonnefoy's concubines and escorted him back to the harem.

It would serve Arthur right for leaving him to starve. Alfred grinned at the thought and with a burst of energy opened the door, stepped outside and closed it silently behind him.

Oh. Alfred's eyes widened as he took a careful step forwards, drinking in as much as he could. The change of scenery was easy on his eyes. The halls were empty at such a late hour, thankfully, but the lack of people took nothing from the novelty of it all. The red curtains, the sleek floor and large glass windows... they were all still there, more vibrant and real than in any of his memories.

Alfred stood still for a long moment, controlling his breath and trying his damn hardest not to vocalize his excitement. The refreshing cool air circling him made him want to run and cheer, but the swift pace he decided on had no wild quality to it. His mission was clear: reaching Arthur's office as soon as possible without being seen.

It was a short walk and by the time Alfred stopped in front of the office door his breath had evened out. The door itself was halfway open, a discovery to which Alfred raised his brows. When he had been working for Arthur on a weekly basis, the door had always been closed. Perhaps the Overseer had developed a new habit in favor of air circulation, but Alfred highly doubted it. After all, Arthur was the kind of man who would throw a fit if his clothes weren't folded in the exact same order he had devised twenty something years ago.

Not the most flexible man, to say the least.

Curious, Alfred treaded quietly into the room, making an effort not to disturb the man inside. He hadn't expected not to be noticed, though. With his back to him and his head bowed over his desk, Arthur remained oblivious to Alfred's presence as he wrote furiously, muttering under his breath.

"First wax, now kohl... I told her specifically-"

Alfred cleared his throat.

Arthur turned around immediately, his brows knotted and his mouth pulled down in a scowl, a snappish 'what' on his lips when his eyes fell on Alfred. They widened briefly before narrowing, an expression Alfred hadn't seen in a long time. Instinctively he took a step back, suppressing the urge to run back to their quarters.

"What on earth are you doing here, Alfred?" Arthur hissed as he jumped out of his chair and rushed towards the door, closing it securely behind him before turning to face his charge. "Why are you out of my rooms? Do you have any idea what would happen if someone saw you?"

Alfred could feel the color draining out of his cheeks. During his quest to find Arthur he hadn't even considered the possibility that the man wouldn't be happy to see him. It was silly to have overlooked it. Silly and stupid. Just because Arthur had yet to raise his voice at him during his stay didn't mean that the man didn't have the ability to direct his anger at him.

He refused to back down, though. He had made it this far, so why should he give in when he was so close to his goal? Alfred squared his shoulders and met the other's gaze firmly, despite the nails digging into his palms.

"I was worried. It's very late, and you still hadn't returned—"

Arthur's hand around his wrist stopped him as he was yanked the few steps between them.

"You were worried," Arthur repeated quietly, though the look in his eyes was anything but calm, "You were worried, so you came looking for me. Even though the terms for your release into my custody were very clear that you should stay in my room. Even though I forbade you from leaving. But no, you were worried, and that clearly overrides anything anyone else had told you, doesn't it?"

Alfred shook his head, opening his mouth to object, but Arthur wouldn't allow him a word edgewise. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? How ungrateful you are? I risked my position standing up for you and saving you from the execution block, and this is how you repay my kindness? Throwing it all away on a whim? All of my work, for nothing?"

The fingers around Alfred's wrist dug into his skin uncomfortably as he tried to pull away, but no matter how much he struggled, Arthur wouldn't let him go. "Answer me, Alfred! Do you have a fucking death wish?"

Alfred stopped his struggling and allowed his limbs to fall limp in Arthur's hold. "No, of course not," he whispered, hating how his voice cracked. "I wasn't thinking. I—that was really stupid of me. I'm stupid. I'm so sorry," he added, beyond caring how weak and pathetic he sounded. All he had wanted was dinner. This wasn't what was supposed to happen.

It seemed that with Alfred's apology, all of the aggression melted from Arthur's body and his grip eased from around Alfred's wrist. The anger and frustration was gone from his eyes as well and when he raised his arms to wrap them around Alfred's shoulder in a loose hug; the man was mainly just tired.

"Don't ever do that again," he ordered in a low tone against Alfred's hairline. Alfred simply nodded, his forehead brushing up against the other's shoulder, not trusting himself to speak. A few moments passed before Arthur pulled away and tucked stray strands of blond behind Alfred's ear while offering him a small smile.

"Let's go home."

.x.

After the 'incident', as Arthur had primly dubbed it, Alfred hadn't expected to be allowed within a mile of the door. It had come as a complete surprise, then, when Arthur had appeared in the middle of the day with a few guards and told him to follow them with a secret smile. The surprise (and a touch of anxiety) had then turned into pure joy when the small party ended up in the gardens.

With a few clipped words to the guards, who proceeded to distance themselves from the pair, Arthur turned to Alfred with a smirk and rested his hands on his concubine's hips. "I cannot blame you for wanting to leave my rooms after being cooped up in there for so long. I honestly should have seen your little flight coming a long way back."

Alfred reflexively leaned into the touch as he had been trained, wrapping his own arms around Arthur's waist. He waited silently as Arthur raised one hand in favor of carding his fingers through Alfred's hair, despite his burning curiosity. What was Arthur trying to say?

"However, I couldn't let you run about the estate," Arthur chuckled. "I did manage to obtain permission for you to walk about the gardens as long as you're accompanied by me or a guard. How does that sound?"

Arthur never did get an answer. He did get a kiss, though.

.x.

The gardens soon became Alfred's favorite area in the estate, even more so than the luxuries of the harem he had once coveted. After being forced into a closed off set of rooms for almost a month, the open air around him was a welcome change. The freshness of it all and the sweet smell of growth all around him left Alfred smiling for the rest of the day, which happened to please Arthur as well, though Alfred couldn't pinpoint why. Hadn't he been good natured before?

He tried not to think too much about Arthur when he was out in the gardens. There were so many new things to observe and enjoy and what with the limited time he had per day, Alfred wanted to utilize his hour to the max. He ignored the guard on duty who hovered a safe distance away from him as Alfred walked about the paved path or lay on the grass to bask in the sunlight.

After all, what else could he do?

The guards must have realized that Alfred wasn't about to run off or poison anyone, though, as eventually the distance between them grew to an extent that Alfred couldn't see the features on their faces clearly. The lines on his brow would disappear at the thought as he'd close his eyes and rest in the shade. He could only grow so comfortable while knowing that he was being watched.

Which was why his face pinched in confusion one day as he was lying next to the bushes. Alfred had the distinct impression that someone was watching him, but that was impossible—aside from the far off guard, he was alone in this part of the garden. There wasn't anyone around to watch him.

Still, he couldn't shake off the feeling and reluctantly sat up, looking around him. Nothing. What was wrong with him?

Alfred shook his head and began to lower himself back to the ground when he heard it: a soft rustle of leaves. He paused and waited, listening for any other sound for a long minute before resigning himself to believing that it had only been the wind. The loud snap of twigs insisted otherwise.

Careful not to alert the guard with any sudden movement, Alfred rose to his knees and turned around, frowning at the bushes. He was most likely getting worked up over a small animal, but he wanted to make sure. Just in case.

Which was a really bad idea because his heart almost gave in when a pair of eyes locked onto his through the bushes. Alfred's voice died in his throat as he scrambled back, turning around with full intentions to run to the guard when a grip on his ankle kept him anchored to the ground as he was flipped onto his back.

A young man with a covered face pinned him down with one hand, the other flying to Alfred's mouth to muffle his cry of protest. The stranger proceeded to straddle him and bend low to whisper in Alfred's ear, "Hush, I'm not here to hurt you."

Sure you're not, Alfred thought, refusing to cease his struggling until both of the assailant's palms snaked around his neck, choking him. His own hands flew to the back of the man's hands and scratched at them frantically while doing his best just to breathe.

Their eyes met again, and just like that the man's hands were off of him and Alfred could inhale properly again. His eyes burned and his throat hurt, but he still meant to try to call out to the guard when the stranger spoke his name, making him pause.

"What did you just call me?" he rasped, eying the man closely. The other's eyes (violet, now that Alfred had the time to look at them properly) softened as he repeated himself.

"Alfred, is that you?"

Alfred's body went rigid as the man raised his hands to remove the cloth from around his face, pulling it back just long enough for his brother to smile at him. He held his breath.

"Matthew?"

Here is is, chapter seven! It's been less than two weeks since my last update, I know, but I was eager to publish this. I'm hoping this might be the start of an early updating streak in my writing, but somehow I doubt that uwu' Either way, what do you think? I'd love to hear from you!

Once again, big thanks to ShadowedSoulSpirit for reading this over for me! You're an absolute doll :)