3 Weeks later...

Arthur still had a hangover from New Years and it was four days ago.

He was currently reading in Alfred's study as the American practiced his lines for the coronation. He had his own little canopy in this solar, and the large bookcases made sure he was never bored. For the past three weeks he has been reading all about the world, trying to make up for lost time. He had caught up with his studies, and has picked up an interest in many countries including England, America, Spain, France. He found their histories very entertaining and at the same time mesmerizing. He was currently reading "The Poisonwood Bible", which was about an American missionary family in the Congo. It was a work of fiction, but it was very entertaining. It was too bad that his head was about to explode.

"Artie, you okay? You look constipated."

"I'm fine, you twat" the Englishman replied with a chuckle. Alfred chuckled back, but obnoxiously, an obvious attempt to recreate his laugh. "I dont sound like that" The brit tried to keep a straight face, but a grin began to spread across his cheeks. He actually did sound like that, he knew, but he would never admit it.

"Whatcha reading?" The prince asked as he approached. He was previously behind his desk, reciting some words, but he was now sitting on the cushion the Brit claimed for himself. Arthur moved over to allow the prince more room, tilting the book so the American could follow along.

"It's about an American family living in the Congo." the Englishman explained. Alfred nodded.

"I've read this book already; it's a good read, I guess..." he trailed off. Arthur quirked his brow and looked the prince up and down.

"Do you have any better suggestions?"

"Yes! Yes! I'll be write back." He jumped to his feet and ran to his desk, pulling open a drawer and rustling through it. Arthur rolled his eyes at the other's excitement and continued to read. The protagonist was running for their life from the native Congolese people, almost being impaled by multiple spears. Just then, the book was torn from his hands.

"Wha..." The Englishman looked up to see a grinning American holding two books, one was the one Arthur was reading, and the other was one Arthur didnt recognize. Alfred handed him the unknown title gingerly, warning the pale male to be careful with the binding. "Yeah, yeah, what is it?" the brit asked as he took it cautiously. He read the cover aloud. "Independence Day? Is this about the fourth of July because I have already read a ton about that."

"No, Arthur." the American took a seat beside the brit. "It's about a brave man fighting intergalactic invaders, trying to save himself and his family." He sounded so inspired as he spoke, as if that was the dream job. "He's such a hero..." he continued on to say. Arthur was still confused on the concept.

"Aliens?" the brit looked up at the American for further explanation. Alfred stared back blankly until his eyes widened in realization.

"Oh! Uh, aliens are intelligent beings from other planets, and in this story, they come to destroy the human race." Arthur visibly gasped.

"Do aliens exist?"

"Yeah." The brit gasped again, eyes widening in shock and wonder. How come he has never heard of aliens? His heart raced at the realization of how behind he was. He has just finished the basic overview of European history, and North American. He was moving on to Asia and Africa next, and then Ancient times. Did he even have time to study Aliens? What kinds are out there? How many? What do they look like?

"Well, I think they exist, but it's debatable" the American interrupted his thoughts. What?

"It's debatable? Why?"

"No solid evidence" the American said with a sad sigh. Arthur nodded in understanding. That would explain why the idea was so foreign. "But" the prince continued, "aliens still make for interesting stories." With that he got up and walked back toward his desk, ending their little chat. Arthur sighed. He looked down and saw both books on the ground, the prince leaving him a choice. He picked up "Independence Day" by Richard Ford and opened to the blurb.

It seemed interesting enough, and it wouldnt hurt to read it.

~~~~ Wounded Knight~~~~

Arthur was about 3 chapters into the book before he closed it, thoroughly bored. Looks like science fiction wasnt for him. Arthur made sure to take his time, making sure to look engrossed in the book just in case the American looked over. However, Arthur couldnt do it anymore, aliens were dumb.

"Artie, can I ask you something?"

Arthur jumped in his seat, startled to say the least. Alfred noticed and gave him a confused look, before continuing. "My coronation is soon... and I was wondering if... maybe... if you would like to be my date?" He sounded nervous and his cheeks were a light pink. However, Arthur has been waiting for the prince to ask him for a while.

"Yes, of course! That is a very special day, love!" Arthur sounded cheery, and that alone was enough to bring a smile back on the American's lips. He must have thought he needed to convince the Englishman, and Arthur would admit, a month ago, he would probably have said no. America, the land of the "free", he would imagine, would be very Anti British considering the English navy has done some severe damage on the coast of the country. Also the fact that he was very unfamiliar with the place, and if he got lost, he would never be found.

The was also the fact that Alfred's mother lives there.

He wasnt ready to meet the queen. He had never even seen a queen. The British royalty left the throne a long time ago, a little after the war had started. It became a socialist democracy for the most part, and it was ruled by Parliament. That was disbanded however, when the Americans came for the second time. They couldn't agree on anything, especially regarding the American's demands. That's when Uther Kirkland came to power as a rebel leader against the Americans. Then after he was betrayed and killed by American forces in a gruesome battle lead by a merciless commander, the resistance ended.

But now, Arthur wasn't so sure, seeing that Dylan was alive. If he was alive, then perhaps the other's were alive. Maybe even his father. Arthur shook his head, that was wishful thinking. Only magic would make that possible. Speaking of magic, after that one dream, he had never had it again. Not even sign, or anything else. It was probably just a bad reaction from drinking wine right before bed.

However, we digress.

The brit no longer minds going because he secretly has been practicing his American Accent. He had gotten Madeline to help him pronounce words, and help him with American slang. Madeline has been more than willing to help him, and she has proven herself to be kind and actually hilarious. She never fails to pump Arthur up when he's feeling sluggish. Nevertheless, he has kept the maid arms width away from him, he didn't want a repeat of Elizabeta. So their friendship stopped at tutelage. She wasn't to give him food, or shop for her. Too much interaction would make them too familiar with each other.

As for Elizabeta, he hasn't spoken with her since the trial. He didn't want to anyway. She not only made him look and feel like a fool, she had said such horrible things about him to her actual friends. She called him annoying, and described their friendship as a chore, nothing more to her than an act. When he walks down the hall, chatting with a guard or Madeline, he would sometimes see her with talking and laughing with other maids, simultaneously patting her daughter on the head.

On occasions like that, Arthur regrets not taking his chance to get back at her. But the guard would pat his back, and Madeline would give him an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder, and he would release all that negativity, and ignore her existence.

The guards have softened up to the brit over time; including him in games, and assisting him with random activities. He wouldn't call any of them his friend, but they were his acquaintances. His favorite of the knights though, was Davie. He was a tad bit older than Arthur, but he looked just as young. He had brownish hair and deep indigo eyes. He, unlike the other knights, didn't come from a very prominent family. He was a bit lean, but clearly muscular, abs for days. He was sweet, romantic, and hilarious, but their relationship was purely platonic. The alpha had his eyes set on some unknown man he had met in the forest while looking for Peter. And besides, Davie and Alfred were best friends.

We digress again.

Arthur got up and stretched like a cat, sauntering over to the prince with a bright smile. Arthur kissed him passionately, rubbing his hands on the other's chest. He loved every minute he has spent with the prince so far, even when he felt he wanted to kill the other. The fact that Alfred could make him feel all those emotions he had no use for while he was underground made him realize that in these past few weeks, he has never been happier. If that made him a bad person, he didn't care.

Knock, knock, knock.

"We're coming in!"

Davie and Madeline walked in together with a picnic basket and a blanket in their hands. Arthur pulled away from the prince quickly and straightened out his clothes, blood rushing to his cheeks. He glared at the pair, who were currently laughing and setting up a picnic in the middle of the solar. "What you two doing?" Arthur sounded pissed, but the two knew better. Madeline set plates on the blanket while Davie began taking cushions from the couch to use as seats. The brit directed his glare over to the prince, who was whistling loudly. He saw the glare, and flashed the smile.

"I thought you'd say yes."

Arthur crossed his arms and stared at the prince. He was trying to bite back his smile, but the American saw through it quickly, placing sweet kisses all over him. The brit couldn't stop the giggle from escaping his lips, and he placed grateful kisses all over the American as well.

"The foods getting cold, and Maddie looks like she's gonna- "

"Shut up! I wasnt gonna eat anything!"

The couple pulled apart and made their way to the blanket. There was four of everything...

"No" Arthur said, taking a cloth and whacking Davie on the arm. "You two arent invited! You'll ruin the mood." Arthur was dead set on getting rid of them. This was supposed to be an intimate moment between him and Alfred, he didnt need two goofballs messing that up. Davie picked up a spoon and began to swat at Arthur also, trying his best to dodge the rag in the brit's hand.

Before long they were battling away from the blanket, near one of the bookcases, still going at it. Arthur disarmed the guard, temporarily getting the upper hand. That didn't last long though, the prince who was still in the room getting very upset.

"HEY! YOU TWO! HERE! RIGHT NOW!"

Davie was there in an blink of an eye, while Arthur took a little longer to get there, sulking at his stolen victory. "You two are so immature! Sit down and eat some food." The two grumbled and sat down, far away from each other. Davie sat by Alfred as Arthur sat with Maddie, who was eating her food quietly, silently judging it.

All throughout the picnic they chatted, laughing and joking around. Davie talked non stop about flowers, and surprisingly enough, Alfred was listening, humming along and adding input. Arthur and Madeline were gossiping about other maids and guards, ranking them from hottest to the most homely. Alfred over heard, and interjected.

"Mark is way more attractive than Fitz. Fitz looks like a mole rat." He deadpanned

"No", Davie glared at the prince, shaking his head. "Fitz is more attractive than Mark, Mark looks like a snap dragon."

The two men then began to argue, which led to personal jabs, and an eventual wrestling match. Arthur sighed, annoyed.

This was the 13th time this week.

One day later...

Arthur was sitting silently in the solar reading, fully engrossed. Alfred had left temporarily to speak to a messenger, not telling the brit exactly what time he would return, just the fact that he was. Arthur didn't mind, though, the silence was music to his ears. And though he enjoys the American's constant humming, it made it hard to concentrate sometimes. He was more than half way through the book, and it wouldn't be more than a day until he finished it. He would usually, after reading a book, go hunting for another one for at least an hour, trying out new genres and reading through the prologues. He was thinking about reading a play next, probably one by Shakespeare, seeing he was the best. He wanted to learn at the same time, though, perhaps the playwright has some historical stories.

Knock, knock, knock

"Come in!" the brit called, not bothering to open the door himself. Maids, if they weren't Madeline, came and went fast enough for the brit not to notice them too much. In fact, when the door opened, and the maid shuffled about, cleaning, the Englishman didn't even look up. He silently continued to read in his little canopy of books, occasionally picking up a quill and a piece of parchment and jotting down words he didn't understand. When he finished a chapter, he would take the list of words he collected and use a dictionary to define them. He would then try to apply them to regular everyday scenarios in his head and try to create a sentence using the word. So far, he has run through 1 and a half journals just for sentences and definitions of the words he didn't know. He tried to use them as often as possible, and in multiple occasions, John, the Harold, would have formal conversations to help prepare him for the potential meeting of a noble or another royal.

The brit was just in the middle of defining a word when he heard someone clear their throat, causing him to look up. Lo and behold, it was his least favorite maid standing with her head bowed and hands clasped together. She didn't meet his eyes, and Arthur found that rather ironic, considering that she was bold enough to glare at him during the trial. The Englishman eyed her with suspicion, setting his book down slowly.

"What do you want?" Arthur asked coldly, not wanting to beat around the bush. Ripping off the bandages as fast as possible prevents agony, very similar to this situation. Even if he tried to be casual and kind, the conversation would turn south inevitably, so why waste his precious time on something negative, if he could read a much more fascinating book? Elizabeta raised her head and looked at the brit before her, before quickly looking down. "What do you want, Elizabeta?" Arthur didn't even attempt to hide the annoyance in his voice, he wants her to know he still didn't like her.

"I just wanted to apologize to you, personally" she spoke quietly, shifting from leg to leg. "What I said was beyond rude, and disrespectful. You didn't deserve to hear that from me, or from anyone, but I should explain myself." Arthur rolled his eyes.

"All is forgiven" he said quickly. "You may go now." He picked up his book opening it up to his page and pretended to read. The Hungarian maid, however didn't go though, instead she cleared her throat once more and continued.

"I didn't mean what I said at the trial, Arthur- "

"Why did you say it then?"

"I needed to tell the prince what he wanted to hear. That it was a mistake! If he knew I deliberately hit him, he'd have my neck. If he thought, that I thought he was someone else, and was just protecting what was his, he'd show some compassion!"

Arthur looked at her with blank eyes and quirked a brow. "That's the dumbest shit i have ever heard. And you could've still done that without the blatant disrespect and disregard of my feelings. I don't know how it's like where you're from, but just because I'm an omega, it doesn't make me a whore or a play thing. That was all unnecessarily offensive, but I'm glad to know that you'd let Alfred rape me if he wanted because you think I'm his property. And who told you that was a good idea?!"

"Arthur, you're not listening. I didn't mean what I said at the trial, any of it! I knew it was Alfred, I even scolded him! It was all a show, and he fell for it; I just didn't think you would too" Elizabeta stomped her foot. "I don't know who told me that, I couldn't see his face. It's dark down there in the dungeons..."

"You listened to a stranger? Rubbish."

"I was desperate, I needed a way to fool the prince, and it worked" She threw her hands in the air.

The brit pinched the bridge of his nose. Did she really think the Prince was that stupid? "Elizabeta... Alfred knew you lied. If you weren't so busy giving me dirty looks, you would have noticed his amused demeanor. He came into the meeting with his mind set up already because I begged him the night before. If it weren't for me, I'm positive, based on what you said during the trial, you would've been decapitated on the spot." The Hungarian shot him an annoyed look, as if he was the one wasting her time.

"Arthur, I care for you like a little brother. I would never say such- "

"What about those things you told Madeline behind my back? Those things you said to the other maids about me?" Arthur's voice remained leveled and smooth, a trick he picked up from talking to John. Nobles were snobbish and rude more times than not, so to prevent any fallout between nations, aristocrats would often hide behind a cool demeanor and smooth voice to disguise their true reactions. A poker face, Alfred called it. Alfred used this Poker face all the time, be it with his friends, his maids, his Harold. The only time he has seen the prince's mask go down was when he was with Matthew, Davie or Arthur himself. Elizabeta, on the other hand, had a terrible poker face.

"That was a long time ago, my feelings were different then." She said honestly. Arthur scoffed.

"Well the trial was a long time ago, and my feelings are different now" He buried his nose in his book once more. "Now get out, and if possible, stay away."

There was a thick silence. He could see from the corner of his eyes the hurt expression on her face. She looked about ready to cry, but Arthur couldn't care less. She had thrown this friendship away, and now that she wanted it back she thought she could get it. She was wrong, horribly wrong, and Arthur would die a happy man if he never saw her face ever again. She left him wondering for days why she did what she did, and how could she ever bring herself to say such awful things. He felt like crap, and she never once came to comfort and explain herself to him. The only helping hands he received were from Alfred, and Davie, and Margaret alongside John. They made the pain in his heart weaken to the point where it was only a dull ache. He made Elizabeta his anchor, to help him cope because she was so mother-like, and perhaps he is partly to blame for missing that figure so much.

"But... Arthur- "

"Leave, now Elizabeta"

But from here on out, he would be more careful of who he lets his guard down around. There were snakes everywhere.

~~~~ Wounded Knight~~~~

"Hey, wait up eyebrows!"

Arthur rolled his eyes at the nickname the knight insisted on calling him. "Yes, Davie?" The knight was sporting just the bottom half of his armor, the rest nowhere to be seen. Davie caught up quickly, cradling his helmet in his arms. He was panting slightly, his breath could be seen as steam in the frosty air. He wore very little, and he looked a little cold. He also looked slightly annoyed.

"Where are you going?"

"I was just taking a little walk." Arthur explained. "Trying to clear my head." Davie looked at him sympathetically.

"Are you getting cold feet?"

"Well, I am walking on snow, so I guess you could say that." The Englishman looked thoroughly confused. Why did it matter if he had cold feet? His thoughts were interrupted by Davie sucking his teeth.

"No, cold feet means having doubts. So are you having doubts about going to the coronation?" The knight sounded exasperated. Arthur contemplated telling Davie about the conversation he had with Elizabeta, but he decided that it was none of his business.

"No, I was just mentally preparing myself for the journey there." The brit lied, laughing lightly. "I never been ridden on a boat." He has, in fact. His father would often take him boating on Navy ships on summer vacations and taught him how to operate it. HE was very comfortable at sea, to be honest, and he had a feeling that he was still able to work one like a pro.

"Well, Alfred's looking for you. He said that you weren't in the solar where he had left you. C'mon, he's about a minute away from dispatching a search party." The knight didn't wait for the brit to respond, he just gripped him by his shoulder and pulled him toward the general direction. Arthur knew that Alfred would kill anyone for manhandling him this way, but no matter how many times Alfred sees Davie do it, he doesn't care. Arthur knew that they were best friends, but it was just weird that he was so lenient about the boundaries between the two of them. He hasn't even shown an ounce of jealousy, which is crazy because Alfred and Davie are the textbook definition of alphas, and you'd think they'd be very territorial. Especially when it comes to mates.

But according to Davie, he had found a man wandering the forest whom he finds perfect in every way. Davie didn't get into the specifics, but he said that he hopes to see that man again one day. Arthur was curious, but he didn't want to press the topic at the time because Alfred was asking enough questions for the two of them. Davie dodged the questions expertly, if Arthur remembered correctly. If Arthur wanted to know more, he would need to have to have a strategy.

"That man in the woods you are in love with, what color was his hair?"

Davie scoffed. "That came out of nowhere, and I'm not in love with him, I find him attractive. His hair was a pretty color." He said with a shrug, not elaborating.

"What was the color of his hair? I bet it's an ugly brown."

"Excuse me?" Davie looked mildly offended now. "He is gorgeous and has the most vibrant red hair."

"RED HAIR?! You are a complete liar. As if a gorgeous man with red hair would be walking in the woods by himself do nothing." The idea wasn't very hard to believe, but Arthur knew how much Davie hated being called a liar.

"WHAT!? I'm not lying, he was alone and just walking funny so I approached him. It turned out he was struck by an arrow and was really hurt. I helped him, We talked for a bit, but he disappeared before I could get his name." There was no new information in Davie's words, so Arthur had to pry harder.

"I bet he had the most generic nose, so ordinary."

"Actually, it was. That doesn't mean he was generic though." Davie huffed as they approached the fortress, who, by himself, opened the front gate. Davie had almost superhuman strength, and Arthur would be praising the other like crazy if he hadn't seen him and Alfred do it a million times. "He has freckles too. How's that generic?" The brit smiled at his shoes, painting a more detailed image of the mystery man.

"Lots of people have freckles, David." Arthur said with a dramatic sigh. They were now walking down the main corridor, passing by knights who were sighing in relief of the brit's return. "They look happy to see me." Davie nodded in agreement.

"Well nobody wants to go man-hunting in the dead of winter. It's like 20 degrees outside and all you're wearing is a shawl." He stopped to look at the brit up and down. "You could have pneumonia now, you know." he deadpanned. Arthur shrugged, having faith in his immune system.

"I've never gotten sick before. I survived the plague, I can survive in this weather." He sounded a little cocky, but it was warranted, considering staying alive was his biggest accomplishment. How many people can say that they survived homelessness, working as a servant, living on the streets while the grey death was killing everyone off, living underground with nothing but sparse foods and horny rapists, and passing out in the middle of the night in early December weather. Arthur, at this point, had a 100% survival rate, he could do what he wants.

"Okay, but you still should have worn something thicker."

The pair turned around to see a very frustrated looking prince coming their way. Davie kneeled respectfully and the Englishman scrambled to do the same.

"Get up, you idiots" The prince took the Englishman by the hands and pulled him up. Arthur apologized as he dusted himself off, and Davie chuckled as he walked away, leaving the two some privacy. "Don't be sorry, just- Where were you?" he sounded worried, and when the Englishman looked up into his eyes, he could see that Alfred was genuinely concerned. Arthur's hands were still in the other's, so the brit motioned for the two to have some privacy. Alfred understood, and began to lead them back to his study. When they got there, they locked the door behind them and sat on the soft couch in the middle of the solar. They cuddled for a little, but then the prince broke the silence.

"Why did you leave?"

"I went to clear my head. Elizabeta came by."

"Oh" Alfred said, sounding mildly surprised. "What did she want?"

"She wanted to explain herself" the brit repositioned his head on the American's shoulder. "I didn't want to hear it though, so I sent her away" he said through a yawn. He was awfully tired, the soothing atmosphere must've been putting him to sleep.

"Why didn't you want her to explain, I thought you were curious" Alfred began to caress his thighs, which the Englishman allowed. The brit, however, rolled his eyes.

"You just want to know if you were right." He giggled and shook a little in the American's arms. The prince laughed along with him.

"Was I?" he pulled back to look the brit in the eye. Arthur shrugged.

"She said someone in the dungeons told her to say it, but i think it's a load of crap."

"But as far as you know, she's telling the truth, right?" Arthur knew where this was going.

"Yea"

"Then that means I was right, no?"

Arthur sighed heavily, shaking his head.