Sorry I wasn't able to update twice last month like i was hoping, but in my defense, February is the shortest month in the year. I'm probably going to be able to update again this month, since I've already got like half the next chapter written. Let's keep our fingers crossed.
And as always, enjoy.
"Hey Luddy, I got a letter from Mattie!" Gilbert announced, walking into the room. Ludwig looked up, and so did Erika and Natalya, who were engaged in a game of chess.
"That's nice," Ludwig said mildly.
"But-" Gilbert ripped the envelope open- "I think you'll want to hear what he says."
Ludwig raised an eyebrow as his brother pulled the letter out, unfolded it, and cleared his throat.
"My dear Gilbert,
"I have just sent a letter to King Ivan, but I think you shall receive this first. I have decided that the American Kingdom is going to ally with the Soviet Kingdom, and consequently, the Germanic Kingdom, in the coming war. Our army isn't as big as yours, but we will help out where we're needed."
Gilbert scanned the letter for a few moments. "The rest is, uh, private."
"Well that's great," Ludwig said. "We're catching up to the Baltics."
"That we are," Gilbert grinned, before wandering off again.
"Checkmate," Erika spoke.
Natalya turned her gaze back to the chess game. It was true; there was no way her king could evade capture.
"You win again," She conceded, and Erika's face lit up. "You're really good at this."
"Thank you," Erika replied, beginning to collect the pieces. "I play with big brother all the time."
Natalya sighed. That was been their fourth game of chess today, and Erika had won all of them.
"I don't mean any offence, but I am extremely bored," she admitted with a sheepish laugh. "Can we do something different?"
"Of course." Erika set the chessboard back in its box. "What were you thinking of?"
"Well," Natalya paused. "I wanted to go out and look for a ghost."
"Look for a ghost?" Erika repeated. "Why?"
Natalya shrugged. "Just to talk to it. They're quite interesting to talk to, if you earn their trust."
"How do we find one?" Erika asked. Natalya smiled.
"They usually inhabit old buildings. The older the building, the older the ghost in it will be. They like to find a place that reminds them of when they were alive."
"That's sort of sad," Erika mused. "But I suppose people that haven't moved onto the afterlife is a sad concept in itself."
"So do you want to find a ghost?"
Erika hesitated, then said, "Sure, let's go."
Natalya jumped up and practically skipped away, her mind already on which buildings would be best. Erika followed, slightly apprehensive.
"How will we know if we've found one?" She asked, as two servants helped them into jackets. "And how do we contact it?"
"I can see them," Natalya admitted. "They look different from normal humans. Their skin is rather greyish."
"Can everyone who practises magic see them?" Erika inquired further.
"No," answered Natalya. "It's just an ability I've always had. It's what pushed me to learn more about magic in the first place."
"Oh," Erika breathed.
The two left the Palace and walked through the courtyard.
"Does anyone else know... about your ability?" Erika's voice was hesitant.
"No." Natalya looked Erika in the eyes. The violet of them seemed cold and dark, yet burning at the same time. Erika's stomach jumped as she looked into them. "I'd like to keep it that way."
"I won't tell," Erika promised.
Natalya smiled softly in response.
They reached the stables and got into a carriage. Soon, they were rolling through the streets of Berlin. They got out at Alexanderplatz once more.
"When the clock strikes three o'clock, we shall be back," Erika informed the driver. "Now, let's go," she said to Natalya.
"What's the oldest building you can think of?" Natalya asked, linking her arm with Erika's.
"The library," Erika answered immediately.
"Then let's go to the library." Natalya began walking.
The library was a vast, old building, one of the first buildings int he city. Wings were constantly being built or destroyed, to accommodate more books, or simply crumbling from old age.
"This is a lovely place," Natalya stated. "Much nicer than the library at the Palace."
"I think so, too." Erika tipped her head back, looking up at the books stacked to the high ceiling. Dust floated serenely through the golden light, filtering in through the windows, like it was caught in honey. "There's something magical about this place."
"Let's hope there's something ghostly about it as well," Natalya smirked.
They began to search the library, Natalya peering carefully at the skin of anyone they passed. But she saw no grey skin, so they left the library.
After that, they walked along the streets, popping into any building that looked reasonably old. It was drawing close to three o'clock when Natalya spotted a ghost, lurking in the back of an apothecary.
"Hello," she said gently. Erika stood behind her, peering over her shoulder. She, of course, saw nothing.
"Hello, my name is Natalya." She took a step forward, looking at the ghost.
He looked to be a boy of about her years, with the beginnings of a beard on his chin. His eyes were like stones, heavy and dark. His hair was brown and wavy, though withered and listless. Many emotions flitted across his face, from fear to curiosity.
"What's your name?" Natalya asked.
"Mark," he spoke. His voice was a grating whisper.
Erika's stomach tumbled as Natalya grinned. Though she knew Natalya wouldn't put her in any danger, it was eerie to watch her have a conversation with seemingly no one.
"Nice to meet you, Mark." Excitement started to creep in at the edges of Natalya's gentle tone. "How old are you? I'm nineteen."
"Eighteen," Mark supplied. He was swaying on the spot, as if unsure whether to step forward or back. "Well, I was eighteen, fifty years ago."
"That's still young." Natalya laughed lightly. "You don't look a day over twenty."
Mark chuckled. "No one has ever been able to see me before."
"I'm not like most of the living," said Natalya. "Not to be too forward, but how did you die?"
Mark shrugged. "I got run over by a cart. I was quite clumsy actually." His voice was growing louder. He seemed to be getting more comfortable with speaking to her.
Natalya turned to Erika. "This is Mark. He got run over by a cart fifty years ago."
Erika waved.
"Can she see me as well?" Mark asked.
"No," Natalya told him.
"I'm not feeling well suddenly," Erika said faintly. "Is it alright if I wait for you a few aisles over?"
"Of course. I'll catch up with you in a few minutes." Natalya smiled, then turned back to where the ghost was.
Erika crept away, thankfully out of earshot of Natalya's end of the conversation. She supposed she was being rude, but she couldn't stand watching Natalya talk to the empty air. It was eerie.
She stood in blissful silence for a while, but after some time she began to hear Natalya again. She was getting excited, the volume of her voice rising. Erika sighed.
"No! I wish though," she heard Natalya laugh. There was a pause. "I doubt it. Besides, I don't think her brother would let her."
Are they talking about me? Erika thought.
"Yeah, pretty much... I suppose. I wouldn't want to do that, though... Anyway, I should go. It was very nice meeting you... Alright, I will. Goodbye!" Erika heard footsteps, then Natalya popped into her aisle.
"Are you ready to go?" She asked.
"Yes," Erika said gratefully.
They walked back to Alexanderplatz, mostly in silence. Natalya was happy, there was a smile on her face and a spring in her step. Erika, on the other hand, was feeling conflicted. She wanted to ask Natalya about whether she'd been talking about her with the ghost, but it was a private conversation. She supposed she forfeited any right to knowing what they were talking about when she asked to be excused.
They reached Alexanderplatz only a few minutes after three o'clock. They located their carriage and climbed in.
"Did you enjoy yourselves?" The driver asked conversationally, as the carriage started moving.
"Yes," Natalya replied, and Erika made a noise of assent.
They travelled back to Sanssouci Palace quickly, along the way making conversation about ghosts and Mark. As they rolled through the gardens towards the stable, they saw Irina sitting among some flowers and reading a book.
A slight wind ruffled Irina's hair as she turned a page. It was a lovely day, so she'd decided not to waste it by sitting inside.
Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned her head to see Elizaveta. Her heavy dress swished in the wind.
"Mind if I sit with you?" She asked.
"Not at all," Irina smiled. She put a bookmark in her book as Elizaveta sat.
"Are you nervous about your wedding?" Elizaveta questioned.
Irina paused before answering. She decided to confide in Elizaveta.
"No." She sighed unhappily. "I don't feel much of anything, really. Empty, hollow."
"Ah," Elizaveta responded simply. Irina feared she'd made her uncomfortable.
"Are you in love with Roderich?" She blurted.
Elizaveta didn't act surprised at the question, she just said, "yes." She smiled saying it, with a faraway look in her eyes, and Irina could tell she really did love him. It made her heart hurt. "I was lucky that the man I fell in love with was wealthy and had high status."
Irina cocked her head. "What relation are you to King Ludwig, exactly?"
This gave Elizaveta pause. "I'm not really related," she began to explain. "Gilbert and I used to date. When we were children, during the reign of King Fritz, we were best friends. I was nobody, just an orphan, but King Fritz let Gilbert run around Berlin, and we explored the city together. As we grew older, we began dating secretly, but when King Fritz died I moved into Sansoucci Palace. Gilbert told everyone I was some noblewoman, but could only read a few words at the time. Anyway, as time went on, things changed. I wanted to break up with him, but then I would lose the only permanent home I ever had. He made it easy, however, because then he met Matthew. We agreed to break up, and that I would remain in the household. By this time everyone knew the truth, so we really didn't have anything to hide. A few years ago I met Roderich at a party, and I knew I'd found my husband."
"That's a lovely story," Irina sighed.
Elizaveta placed her hand on Irina's. "I'm sure you'll have a lovely story to tell your children, too."
Elizaveta's eyes were warm and her smile was kind, but her words twisted Irina's stomach cruelly.
Ivan had underestimated how lonely he'd be in Castle Kremlin without his sisters. They hadn't spent much time together as of late anyhow, but with them gone, a part of him felt empty. It made him realize how truly dependant he was.
He had to get used to it, though. Irina would be giving in another Kingdom from now on, and Natalya would be married within the next five years. At least, she should be. Natalya usually didn't conform to the unwritten rules of what women were supposed to do.
A sharp knock at the door roused Ivan from his thoughts. He tore his gaze away from the map on the table in front of him and called, "enter!"
A page entered, holding a letter. "This came for you, your Majesty." He placed it on the table.
"Thank you." Ivan nodded at the page, who then left the room.
Turning his attention to the letter, he drew in a breath when he saw it was addressed in Yao's handwriting. He tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter.
Dear Ivan,
Yesterday, I received some startling news, which has caused me to think on you differently. If you wish, we can meet again. We must be careful though, because you need your territory back, and I've already allied with the Baltic Kingdom.
From, Yao.
Ivan lowered the letter thoughtfully. It was vague and cryptic, but he liked what Yao seemed to be insinuating.
He got up hurriedly, and rushed off to find paper and ink.
A gloomy aura seemed to hand around Castle Odalescalchi that afternoon. Its inhabitants seemed sad as well; the servants were more sluggish than usual, and King Feliciano and his brother were engaged in a depressing conversation.
"Feli, we should enter this war," Lovino was telling his brother exasperatedly. "It's our responsibility to help out the Asian Kingdom. We're allies."
"In case you've forgotten, I'm the King," Feliciano replied. "I'll decided if it's worth it."
Lovino shrugged. "All right. I just thought you'd be glad to face the Germanics in battle."
Feliciano sighed. "For the last time, what happened between King Ludwig and I is in the past now."
"Is it really?" Lovino raised an eyebrow. "You still haven't confirmed your visit to Lady Emma of the North European Kingdom. Could it be you can't move on?"
"Lord give me strength," Feliciano muttered before saying loudly, "fine, I'll write her back and tell her I'm coming. Will that satisfy you?"
"Yes it will." Lovino flashed a rare smile, though a self-satisfied one.
Ivan bit his lip. He was nervous and sitting on an unfamiliar bed. After exchanging a few letters with Yao, he'd booked the finest hotel room in Moscow. Yao couldn't risk coming to Castle Kremlin, but he still deserved the best. Ivan had paid high amounts of money for the hotel workers to look the other way when Yao came. He knew it was a risky situation, but he hoped it'd be worth it.
A knock sounded at the door, and Ivan sprang up to get it. Yao stood upon the threshold, wearing a black cloth over his head to conceal his identity. Once safely inside, he pulled it off with a breath of relief.
"Did you come alone?" Ivan asked.
"Of course," he replied.
"I hope you like the room," Ivan blurted. He was quite nervous. "It's the best in the city. It's a shame we can't open the blinds because the view is quite spectacular but I suppose thats the price of being easily recognizable. I wasn't sure if I should get food or drink or anything but I brought some wine." He gestured at a wine bottle sitting on the table. "Would you-"
"Ivan," Yao interrupted. His voice was slipping lower, like it was melting. He took a step forward and shrugged off his jacket. "Stop talking."
Ivan complied, because Yao was coming closer and closer and then they were kissing.
It wasn't like the last time, when they were half-drunk and sloppy. It was more sure of itself, mouths moving faster and tongues slipping in. Each of them grasped needy at the other as their fingers scrabbled desperately at fabric. They kicked off shoes and parted for a moment to remove their tunics. Then they were pulled back together again as if by magnets. It was hot and passionate and stumbling backwards. The edge of the bed kicked the back of Ivan's knees and he collapsed on the bed.
Ivan tried to catch his breath as Yao climbed on top of him, but it was stolen away again by Yao's soft mouth travelling down.
Toris sighed, glancing up at Feliks. They'd been enjoying some coffee together in content silence, but something was on Toris' mind.
"Do you think the speech worked?" He asked out of the blue, worry crinkling his forehead.
Feliks set down his coffee cup. "Of course it worked. What makes you ask?"
Toris shrugged. "Second-guessing myself. It's a bad habit."
"Well, you did great yesterday. Practically everyone was cheering." Feliks smiled.
"I only pulled it off because of you," Toris replied.
"You did all the work," Feliks contradicted, "I only helped a little bit."
They fell into silence again. Tories traced the designs on his coffee cup with a fingernail.
"Can you show me that field someday?" He spoke.
"Only if you show me the library," Feliks said in return.
"That's easy. Would you like to see it now?" Toris stood up.
Feliks stood as well. "What are we waiting for?"
They hurried down the halls of Castle Kaunas, exchanging whispers along the way. Toris stopped at a pair of large, oaken doors.
"This is it," Toris announced, slowly opening one of the doors. "It's not as big as the one in Moscow, but I still love it."
Feliks entered, looking around him. It was beautifully quiet, multicoloured light from stained glass shone on the volumes on the shelves. Walking into the room felt like walking in fresh snow.
Feliks grinned as Toris walked to one of the shelves and began selecting volumes to show him.
"These are some of my favourites," Toris proclaimed, placing a stack of books on a table in the middle of the room. "This one is poetry, this is a book on philosophy, this is one on science, and this is an epic about a hero on a dangerous quest."
Feliks sat at the table. "They sound interesting. Can you read something to me?"
Toris laughed. "Why?"
Feliks cupped his cheek his hand and gazed at Toris, smiling slightly. "I like the sound of your voice."
Toris picked up a book, and with only a little hesitation, began to read. He began to describe a meadow, dotted with flowers, under an azure sky.
Not too far away, Raivis and Eduard were standing in a similar meadow, overseeing the training of a group of soldiers.
The atmosphere between the two was quite awkward, and they'd hardly spoken since they arrived. Raivis really would rather have not gone somewhere alone with Eduard, but it wasn't like he could say no.
Just being in Eduard's presence was making Raivis think about the embarrassment he suffered the day before. After his shouted confession, Eduard had gone quiet, seeming very surprised. Then, he'd quickly excused himself. Raivis had wanted to sink into the ground and die.
"At least it wasn't outright rejection!" Feliks had said.
"It may as well have been," Raivis had replied glumly.
Raivis shifted from one foot to the other. Standing for long periods of time was not comfortable.
Eduard sighed loudly, obviously irritated. Raivis glanced sidelong at him.
"I can't believe Toris is making us do what he's responsible for," Eduard complained. "He's not even doing anything important right now, he's lounging with Feliks."
Raivis made no reply.
"How long have you loved me?" Eduard asked.
Raivis choked on his own saliva.
"T-two years," he stammered.
"That's a long time," Eduard commented.
"It's pathetic, I know." Raivis sighed.
"No, it's..." Eduard cast his gaze around, searching for the right word. "Cute," he finally settled on.
Raivis felt his broken heart break a little further.
"So, now what?"
Yao glanced at Ivan. Ivan realized how beautiful he was like this, hear messy but face glowing.
"Now, we go home and pretend this never happened," Yao responded.
Ivan shifted onto his side. The covers rustled. "But will this happen again?"
Yao considered. "Maybe."
Ivan lay back down again. "Is this all it is?" He mumbled.
"Do you want me to say I love you?" There was an amused smile in Yao's voice.
"No. But, 'you're more than just sex' would be nice." Ivan smirked.
Yao shifted closer to Ivan and looked him in the eyes. "You're more than just sex." He kissed him briefly.
"We have time," Ivan said softly. "Let's just talk."
Yao snuggled up to him, and Ivan put his arm around Yao. They talked.
Left over middle, that becomes the middle. Right over middle, that becomes the middle. Repeat, Feliks thought as he braided Toris' dark hair.
"Did you like the books?" Toris asked.
"I did," Feliks replied. "My favourite is the book of poetry. I like how they compared love to a forest."
Toris nodded.
"They're so right," Feliks continued, "In love is a big, dark, scary place to be, and there's so many obstacles. But if you stop to admire what's around you, it's lovely." He secured the end of Toris' braid with a ribbon. "Your braid is done."
Toris turned back to face him, feeling the hair on the back of his head crisscrossed over itself. "You talk like you have experience with love."
Feliks smirked. "I don't know if it could be called experience. Let's just say, if we were in a forest right now, I'd be stopping to admire the scenery." He then leaned forward and kissed Toris.
