A bridge of secrets now was forged. Between Alfred and Arthur there was the promise of a secret marriage; between Alfred and Yao was the knowledge of the horrid past and the Queen's future. Ivan knew that Alfred possessed the tube holding everyone's memory. And as Alfred laid beside a sleeping Arthur, pressed close against his chest, the King anxiously thought of the tangled web he was weaving. Carding fingers gently through blonde hair, Alfred felt cold dread fall upon him, and pressed his nose to Arthur's forehead, eyes squeezing shut.

The week waiting for the Monarchy of Hearts to arrive was hell. Alfred, plagued with guilt, became sleep-deprived, jumpy and irritable. The nobility of Spades started rioting on the streets, demanding execution of Ivan: the commoners uncertainly watched and waited, but it was only a matter of time before they joined in. The people of Clubs now were rebelling against the soldiers occupying their land, which was on the verge of collapse without its King. Yao edgily avoided Alfred, and servants reported tentatively that the Jack had been disappearing often. Even Francis seemed off, warily regarding everyone, keeping to himself.

Arthur didn't question anyone, although he sensed uneasiness, especially of Alfred. Although they were separated throughout the day, with Arthur constantly calming the people, trying to convince them that the nobility were just misunderstanding the situation, and Alfred working inside the castle, the Queen comforted Alfred when they were alone, even if he didn't fully understand what the King feared.

Walking through the hallway, Arthur readied to round a corner until he spotted Yao at the end of the hall, nervously glancing around. What made the Queen follow him, Arthur didn't know.

Yao pushed in a secret door on the wall, disappearing. Arthur quietly strode down the hall, feeling along the wall for the secret pathway. Green eyes glinting as he pushed it open, the Queen heard echoing footsteps down the dark stairs, and as he slowly neared, he heard the Jack conversing with none other than their prisoner.

Frowning, Arthur peeked around the corner, barely making out the two figures in the shadows of the prison. Yao held something out for Ivan and murmured, "I snuck this for you. Be grateful."

Arthur could imagine Ivan smiling. "Thank you. Any word from Hearts?"

So, he's telling Ivan of what is happening. "No. They're due to come any day now, but outside... the people are growing antsy." A bitter chuckle sounded. "You're quite unpopular."

Ivan laughed quietly. "I was thinking, Yao. About when we first became King and Queen."

Arthur blanched, eyes wide in confusion. He stilled his breathing, listening for a denial from Yao.

"I think about it, too."

"You could've stayed."

Arthur's heart lurched as Yao replied, "The minute I saw Alfred... just a young war-general... I knew I had to leave. I couldn't... help you kill him. He didn't even... he didn't even remember."

"Now he remembers our past. You could kill him now. You could avenge us. Avenge Arthur."

What the hell? What are they talking about? Racing up the stairs and out into the hall, Arthur decided he'd heard enough. Was Yao plotting with Ivan to kill the King? But why did Ivan want to avenge me? Shaking his head in confusion, Arthur's footsteps echoed rapidly through the hallway.

As he neared Alfred's study, a hand grabbed Arthur's shoulder. Whirling around, Arthur glared into the eyes of Yao, who looked nervous and fearful. "What did you hear, Arthur?"

Clenching his jaw, Arthur hissed, "You're actually a Queen and you didn't tell me? You plan to kill Alfred? I heard everything!"

"Will you just listen?" Yao snapped. Arthur reluctantly let him continue, green eyes no longer furious but confused. Taking a deep breath, Yao started, "Yes, I was the Queen of Clubs. But I left. My birthmark changed. I became the Jack of Spades."

"But... why did you leave? Why did you want to kill Alfred?"

"I don't want to kill Alfred, you idiot! I've already told him of my past!" Yao growled. "I left Clubs exactly because I didn't want to kill him."

Alfred knew Yao had been a Queen and didn't tell me? Why would he hide this? Arthur shook his head. "You left because Ivan wanted to kill him?"

Yao uncertainly looked away, voice dropping. "Yes."

"What wrong did Alfred do against Ivan?"

A long pause ensued, Yao's eyes darkening, refusing to look at Arthur. "You cannot tell me you haven't had memories of your past, Arthur. Have you ever recognized Alfred before? Doesn't he remind you of something?"

Arthur's breath stilled. "I..."

The door to the King's study opened suddenly. Both Queen and Jack jumped at the noise as Alfred walked out, appearing surprised to see them. "Arthur, I didn't expect you to be over here today. Are you and Yao busy?"

Glancing at Yao, Arthur stammered, "W-We were just talking about taxes."

"I'm busy," Yao curtly added. His eyes studied Alfred's briefly before he dismissed himself.

Alfred turned to Arthur with a soft look. "Is everything okay? You both seemed... off." Drifting closer, Alfred gently took his hand and raised it to his lips, kissing the ring on his finger.

The gesture was endearingly sweet. Deciding not to press Alfred even though Yao's words left a sick nervousness imprinted in his mind, Arthur smiled. "I'm fine."

What are you hiding from me, Alfred?

Although Arthur begged Yao whenever they were in private to continue where he left off, the Jack refused to disclose anymore information. He always left with the words, "It isn't my place to say."

A certain sense of dread fell upon Arthur. To the naked eye the situation seemed petty: Alfred had kept Yao's previous position as Queen a secret. It didn't seem a big deal. But there was more to the story, and as Arthur replayed Ivan's words in his mind, again and again, he arrived at the conclusion that Alfred was hiding much more from him than Yao's position. Ivan had told Arthur once that they were friends. That, in another life, Arthur looked and acted just the same as he did now. Yao confirmed that in another life- in the past- Arthur had known Alfred. Alfred had done something wrong, something to hurt Ivan, Yao...

And apparently me.

Fingers traced patterns on his arm. Arthur pressed back against Alfred, unable to sleep, wishing to curl up in his King's embrace and never question him, to forget about the past that prodded insistently at his mind.

"Are you still awake?" Lips pressed against the skin behind Arthur's ear. Softly, Arthur hummed, melting as Alfred trailed kisses down his neck. He gripped the sheets, wanting to ask Alfred questions, but the King quietly continued, "I wish you and I had met before this."

The sheets rustled as Arthur turned, eyes searching Alfred's. "What do you mean?"

"We would've had more time," Alfred murmured, nosing Arthur's hair away from his forehead. Anxiously, Arthur shifted closer, hiding his confused eyes from Alfred. Perhaps he was overthinking it. Alfred probably meant that he wished they'd met when both weren't so busy with duties. But there was something about his words that made Arthur feel like he was missing something, something crucial.

Are we running out of time?

Alfred walked through the halls of the prison, rank and dirty, water dripping and collecting on the cracked grey floor. The place was appropriate for criminals deserving death, not the man he approached. Ivan lifted his head, violet eyes meeting Alfred's, cold and bitter.

"Come down here to mock me?" Ivan questioned, voice low and spiteful. His wrists, chained above his head to the wall, appeared bruised, as did his ankles, chained to the cold stone ground. He sat huddled against the grey, uneven stone, white clothes covered with dirt and mud, face streaked with grime. Water, dripping from the ceiling, collected in a puddle near his uncovered feet, his skin an unhealthy blue.

"I want you to tell me everything you know about the tube."

Ivan chuckled, tilting his head. "I'm surprised you haven't recognized it. It's the innermost shell... the core of the weapon you used to destroy us all. Ironic, isn't it? What killed us all... survived into this world... and gave us our memory."

Alfred bit his lip, hands curling into fists. "Be honest with me, Ivan, and this will be easy. Is there a way to return?"

His amused look quickly faded, eyes locked with Alfred's. "You wish to return to the past?"

"I want to make things right."

"No," Ivan said, eyes narrowing. "You want to save Arthur." Looking away, Alfred refused to reply. Ivan had his answer. Laughing bitterly, he continued, "You haven't changed at all, Alfred. You are still that man, and you will always be him, no matter what universe we're taken to after this world."

"Tell me how I can fix it."

"You can't fix it, Alfred. No matter how many time loops we live through after this, that first world... our lives as personifications... it will always have ended the same way. You can't change the past. However-" his eyes bored into Alfred's- "there is a way... we can all forget about it."

Jaw clenching, Alfred gritted out, "Permanently?"

"Permanently," Ivan echoed, eyes dark, haunting. "It's simple. Destroy the core. It carries the memories, yes?" Alfred turned to leave, his every intention to destroy the core immediately, but Ivan huffed, "Oh, don't bother. Do you know how many times I've tried, Alfred?" He let out a pained, bitter chuckle, eyes emotive and distraught. "There's only one person who can destroy the core. It's not you. It's not me."

Infuriated, Alfred whirled around and stalked out of the cell. Ivan called out, voice resounding throughout the damp, dark prison, "Running away? You haven't changed at all, America."

"You must tell Arthur eventually."

Alfred turned, thoughts disrupted as Yao opened the door to his study, golden eyes narrowed. Standing, the King quietly replied, "You and Arthur were not talking about taxes yesterday. It just so happens that the walls in this palace are quite thin."

Yao lifted his chin, steadily staring back. "No, we weren't. But did you truly think the past would not find him?"

"I'm going to destroy the core. There will be no need to tell him of the past."

Laughing mockingly, Yao said, "How many times did Ivan tell me those same words? I can't count. It is indestructible, Alfred. The past can not disappear."

"Ivan said that one person could destroy it." Alfred swallowed, walking closer to the Jack. "How does he know that?"

"In every stack of cards," Yao began, "There is a Joker. He's abnormal. He plays by different rules. He is given a certain magic from the land- knowledge- and must use this knowledge wisely." Yao brushed by Alfred into the shadowed room, lit by only a mere candle, and pulled a dusty, weathered book from the old bookshelf in the corner. Extending his arm, he held the book out to Alfred. "He has been here since time in this land began. Monarchs have documented his arrival at their Kingdoms. Their stories are all similar: the Joker appears near time of tension and strife, gives his knowledge to the monarchs, and then disappears for quite awhile."

Alfred swept through the book, wiping dust from certain worn pages, eyes landing on a shrouded figure with piercing scarlet eyes labeled Joker. "Why are you telling me this?"

"He came to Ivan and I, years before I left the Kingdom of Clubs. We'd heard the stories and welcomed him into our Kingdom. At the time, I had just discovered our past- Ivan wanted nothing but to destroy it, wipe it from our memories, as did I. The Joker simply laughed and said that it was easy- find the right person to destroy the core. He left the next day, and we've never seen him since."

The words sank in. Alfred closed the book, setting it on his desk, eyes searching Yao's. "The right person," he repeated softly. "How long have you been searching for the right person?"

Yao closed his eyes, biting his lip. "A very, very long time, Alfred."

Sure that the brown, worn cloak thrown around his shoulders made him blend in with the crowds in Spades, Arthur walked down the stone streets, observing his Kingdom. If you wanted to solve problems with people, after all, Arthur reasoned that it was wise to walk as one of them. Hood drawn over his blonde hair, shadowing his face, the Queen was confident he resembled a commoner.

The marketplace was quite busy. People swarmed through the streets like bees, buying and selling. It reminded Arthur of long ago, when he would raid the food stands with Francis, both orphans poor and hungry. How time had changed.

Not having paid attention to where he was walking, Arthur collided with someone. He reeled back and profusely started to apologize, but trailed off, gazing up at the shrouded man before him, who laughed.

"My fault," he shook his head, hood sliding down, revealing silver hair and friendly scarlet eyes. "I haven't been in Spades since..." he counted on his fingers comically. Arthur smiled. "Since a very long time," he concluded.

"You've lost your way?"

He shook his head once again, grinning. "Oh, no. I know exactly where I'm going. I fear, though, I am not used to the crowds." He reached for something in his pocket, and held it out to Arthur. "Take this as an apology, my friend." Arthur studied the gift: it appeared a fabric, folded several times into a compact square. He stuffed it into his pouch to open when he returned to the palace.

The strange man started to leave, but turned when Arthur called out, "Wait- what is your name?"

Smiling, he drew his hood over his head, and said, "Gilbert. Gilbert Beilschmidt."

Arthur escaped the crowds and walked up the winding path to the palace of Spades, allowing his hood to fall, spring breeze sweeping his hair back and forth. Although he intended to return to the palace and work, the Queen found himself drawn to the Spadian tree, and sat on the white bench beneath it, gazing down at the capital city in the distance.

As the wind gently rustled the tree branches, Spadian emblems clinking together like icicles, Arthur searched for the gift he had been given by the strange man he'd bumped into. Pulling it out, he began to unfold it- blue, white, and red- strange colors for a fabric, he mused. Finally, it unravelled completely-

England! A voice calls. Look! The sun's come up! Everything's going to be fine-

Jolting, Arthur released the fabric, gripping the bench in shock, breaths coming in short gasps. The blue, white, and red fell to the dirt, colors suddenly very, very familiar. Eyes widening, Arthur stared at the flag- his flag- and garbled memories flew through his brain, though he couldn't sort them out. The voice had been Alfred's, hadn't it?

Resolutely, he decided to pick up the flag again, but just as his fingers brushed against the fabric-

"Arthur!"

He bolted in his seat, releasing the flag and spinning around to meet Alfred. Before he could say anything, Alfred's gaze fell upon the flag near Arthur's boots. His eyes widened in unbridled, utter disbelief and shock, and strode close to Arthur, quietly yet lividly demanding, "Where the hell did you find that?"

For some reason, Arthur felt guilty, as if he'd let Alfred down, and fearfully stammered, "I-I... a man-"

Alfred impatiently grasped his arms and stilled him, commanding, "Go inside the palace. Immediately." Arthur obeyed, racing away from the site and into the palace, heart pounding furiously. Alfred had never used such tone of voice with him before- had the flag scared him as much as it did Arthur?

Racing upstairs, Arthur took refuge in his room, shutting the door swiftly behind him. Breathing out shakily, he slumped against the wall, trying to make sense of what was happening. Striding slowly toward the window, Arthur watched as soldiers were ordered to burn the flag, watched with horrified eyes as the fabric lit up in flames.

The door behind him opened and shut. Footsteps clicked on the marble floors. Alfred quietly called out his name. "Arthur. Are you... are you okay?"

"Am I?" Arthur turned, sure that his expression was frightened and incensed and bewildered all at once. "You... you've been hiding things from me." His voice grew louder, almost furious. "Ever since we returned from Clubs, you've been hiding things. You have the gall to ask if I'm okay?"

Angrily running a hand through his hair, Alfred hissed, "It's not like that-"

"Not like what?! You knew Yao was a Queen- Ivan's Queen- and you didn't bother to tell me? Yao tells me that in our past, in another world, you did something to wound Ivan, and Ivan therefore seeks vengeance- did you know that, too? Did you keep that from me as well?!"

"I'm trying to protect you, Arthur!" Alfred shouted, striding closer to the Queen. "I'm trying to fix things!"

"So you'd lie to me?"

"You don't underst-"

"Do enlighten me, Alfred!" Arthur snarled, throwing his hands up in an angry gesture. "What don't I understand? Why would you-"

Alfred suddenly gripped his shoulders and pushed him against the wall, crying out, "I couldn't save you!"

Everything stilled, quieted. Arthur's eyes widened. Alfred's jaw trembled and his hands sought purchase in Arthur's coat as he repeated, "I couldn't save you." His forehead touched Arthur's chest, shoulders convulsing in silent sobs that wracked powerfully throughout his entire body.

Arthur, stunned, stared at the opposite wall, arms tentatively winding around Alfred's waist as he came undone before him. "But... I'm here. I'm okay, Al. I'm okay."

Alfred shook his head, fingers sliding up and cupping his cheeks. Their eyes met as the King lifted his head, tears staining his face: Arthur, dismayed, searched Alfred's terrified, devastated gaze. "If I tell you, you will hate me," he quietly explained, voice breaking as he continued, "And if I lose you..."

"You won't lose me," Arthur whispered, drifting impossibly closer, his nose brushing against Alfred's. "I love you."

Alfred closed his eyes, breathing out sharply, and pressed his forehead to Arthur's, fingers trembling as they twined with his Queen's. After a long, silent moment, he straightened and tugged Arthur's hand softly, wordlessly leading him out of their room and down the halls to his study.

Whatever lay beyond that dark door scared Arthur immensely. He gripped Alfred's hand- both of their palms were sweaty as the King opened the door with a shrill creak and led him into the shadowed, eerie room. Swallowing quietly, Arthur watched as Alfred released his trembling hand and started to nervously search for something in his desk. Blue eyes finally found Arthur's, wordlessly conveying for the Queen to come over.

Slowly, Arthur inched forward, clenching his jaw. Alfred held out a black tube that glowed ice blue, whispering, "You don't have to do this if you don't wish."

As the blue glow reflected into Arthur's green eyes, it dawned on Arthur that whatever was behind this mysterious item would drastically change everything. He gazed at Alfred, unsure if he wanted to surrender everything he'd worked so hard to build. But, gathering the shreds of his resolve, Arthur reached out, fingers grasping the tube.


A/N: Two more chapters to go! Thank you (and apologies for the wait), everyone who reads and reviews. This story is turning into a soap opera/drama, and I am so sorry for that. Oh, funny story about how Cardverse ruined my life: I was playing poker the other night and a King and Queen of Spades came out on the table right next to each other, so I freaked out and screamed, "ALFRED! ARTHUR! YOU'RE TOGETHER FOREVER!" I'm pretty sure now my family thinks I'm mentally unstable. Thanks, Hetalia.

By the way, the words Arthur heard in that flashback were from the second to last chapter of my other fiction, Airacobra. Just in case you wanted to know, they are the most important words Arthur has ever heard. (If you want to know why that is, read Airacobra.)