"So. Now you both know."

Arthur and Alfred sat side by side across from Yao, Alfred looking straight ahead and proud, while Arthur looked at the table and thumbed the edge of it. He had come to terms with his future position, he was perfectly capable of dealing with the reality of marrying Alfred and he was even the tiniest bit excited by Alfred's affection for him; but now they had to talk about it, and Arthur hated talking about things. He would have much preferred for there to be some silent agreement amongst the three of them that everything was as it should be and they could continue on living as before. Arthur would do what was expected of him when it was expected, but until then, he saw little good or comfort in discussing it further.

Yao, naturally, was of a different opinion. "Where do we go from here?" Arthur felt the question was mostly rhetorical, but Alfred had an answer.

"Forward. We go forward." Alfred beamed and glanced at him and Arthur knew he was referring to their secret agreement. Arthur wasn't sure what to do with a more mature and focused Alfred; he was accustomed to having to scold him and chase after him and worry about him, but now he only had to concern himself with seeing Alfred as an adult. He wasn't one, of course, not yet, and Arthur didn't even think of himself as grown-up despite being of age. Adulthood was still some far-off incident, something that would happen in a marked and definite way, but certainly not for years and years.

"Obviously, yes." Yao laced his fingers together and leaned into them, lower face hidden, and eyes unreadable. He gaze shifted to Arthur. "But what I meant is that we have some decisions to make."

"I don't understand."

Arthur cleared his throat and went back to thumbing the carved bits on the table's edge. "I'm of age."

"Oh!" Alfred half-shouted when he understood the situation. "Then that means you can-"

"What are my options?" Arthur looked up and addressed Yao directly.

"Well, there's what's been traditionally done, and what's fallen into custom more recently. For the last one hundred, one hundred and fifty, years or so, it has not mattered which ruler is crowned first. Mostly this was a result of the shift from purely hereditary rule into the system we have now. The King or Queen could step down at any time, independently of one another, or dismiss their Jack at any time. As such, marriage between rulers became a formality only, and since there was no longer a need to produce an heir, the titles are genderless."

"Wait! What would have happened to me if my parents were still alive? You just said that they didn't need to produce an heir, so where would that leave me?"

Arthur hadn't thought of that before, and he eagerly awaited Yao's explanation. Yao sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"This entire situation is an oddity. Your father had no cause to name a successor at the time of his death. It was sudden, and there would have been no reason for him to be concerned with the next king for at least another five years. However, circumstances being what they were, we were forced to abide by laws that have not had any consistent relevance to the Kingdom in generations. Without a named successor, legally the House of Spades was compelled to take your father's next closest male family member as King. Seeing as he had no siblings, that was you."

A thought struck Arthur and before he could think better of it, he blurted out, "Next closest? But wouldn't that be Matthew?"

Yao jolted in small surprise, but nodded. "It would have been, if Alfred had not been born. Alfred's claim to the throne was lent legitimacy because his mother was Queen. Otherwise, yes, Matthew would have been King."

"And now he's no one." It wasn't a question. Arthur knew that Matthew was as good as expendable except for in the highly unlikely case that Alfred should die young. As unpleasant as Alfred dying was to think about, Arthur had a feeling that Yao already had a protocol in place for if it happened, something that would legally keep Matthew off the throne. In a way, Arthur could see why that might be best; Matthew was illegitimate by the old laws and his existence had already caused enough problems for the Kingdom, even if he couldn't be blamed for it. Allowing for even the slightest chance of him becoming King would invite more chaos. But at the same time, this was just another example of how unfairly Arthur's dear friend had been treated and even if Arthur was sure Yao's intentions were good, he hated him for it.

It was obvious that Yao was unsure how to respond. He fidgeted and his face fell, and Arthur enjoyed seeing him suffer for his decisions. His enjoyment was short lived, however, as Alfred spoke again, his voice sounding bitter and small.

"So does that mean that if I had never been born, Arthur would be marrying Matthew?"

Arthur's mouth hung open, and he must have made a little noise of shock, because Alfred was staring at him with a possessive hardness. He shut his mouth and tried to manage his expression, but it didn't stop his face from getting hot. Arthur wished that he could lay his head on the cool surface of the table and possibly bash against it a few times; the thought of marrying Matthew was embarrassing and made him feel inexplicably jittery.

"Ah, no, well, maybe... things would have been so drastically different that I can't say for sure whether or not Arthur would have been chosen as Queen. It could have been anyone, really, it's not as if-" Yao shook his head as if to rid himself of the path of thoughts he had been heading down and placed his hands firmly on the table. "There's no point in discussing things that have not been, but to answer your original question, your Highness, you would have had a normal, albeit well-off, life after your parents resigned."

Neither Alfred nor Arthur had a response to that, and they sat absorbed in their own thoughts. Arthur had the brief urge to reach out and comfort Alfred, but he wasn't sure what he needed comforting over; his parents still would have been estranged if they had lived, and a normal life was not always a good one. In the end, Arthur thought it best to clench his hands in his own lap and let Alfred alone.

"But we still have not settled the matter of Arthur's coronation." Yao smoothed the sleeves of his robe aggressively, as if the action could smooth the rapidly fracturing atmosphere. "As of now, we could formally announce the betrothal by having Arthur crowned Queen, and then of course, sealing the contract once his Highness turns sixteen."

"Or?" Arthur hoped the second option was less intimidating.

"Or, we abide by the oldest tradition which requires that the King be in place before the Queen. We would wait until his Highness was sixteen, formally announce the betrothal at the time of coronation, wait the customary six months, then you would become Queen through marriage."

"Why would we have to wait six months, though?" Alfred whined.

"It's superficial and barbaric if you ask me, but originally it was because the betrothed would not meet one another until the day of the announcement. The waiting period was to allow the King to decide whether or not he actually desired his bride; he could reject the whole thing and start over if he wanted, as awful as that sounds. After a time it just became more of a fashionable "engagement" period, like the common people have."

All this marriage talk was making Arthur feel sick to his stomach. It was too complicated and too personal, and yet it was being treated in the most impersonal fashion because of status. Yao talked of such things so bluntly and indifferently; not that Arthur wanted to explore his options on an emotional level, but he was feeling like an item, a bargaining chip, some abstract concept of "Queen", instead of an actual person.

"So, what do you want to do, Arthur?"

"Either way, it will be at least two years until we have to get married, correct?"

"Yes."

"And he only difference is how soon I become Queen?"

Yao nodded.

"What would you have done if Alfred hadn't found out about the betrothal?"

"I would have announced it at the proper time, and then we still would probably have had to make this decision. It's entirely up to you at this point, Arthur."

Arthur bit the inside of his cheek and glanced and Alfred, who was openly watching him for a reaction, before letting his eyes slip back to the surface of the table. He smoothed his palms over it, tapping his fingers as he prepared himself to be honest and possibly upset Yao.

"I know this makes your duties more complicated, Yao, but I'd rather not be crowned just yet. With everything happening so suddenly, I don't think I could, that is... I don't think I'm ready."

Yao pursed his lips. "Do you feel that you are ill-prepared for your duties?"

"No! It's not that! You've taught me so much, and the Council has taught me so much. It's not that I don't think I could do it on a purely professional level, it's just that I don't think I'm ready." Arthur took a deep breath and shook his head. "It seems silly to feel like this after all these years but I don't want to let you or Alfred or the Kingdom down, and I think that if I'm going to be a good Queen, then I need a little more time. "

Surprisingly, Yao didn't look or sound disappointed, instead nodding and rapping his knuckles across the table twice. "I understand. It would be unfair to expect you to be comfortable in ruling when so much has only recently come out. I agree that you do not know enough or have enough experience to be the most effective ruler at the moment." He stood and pushed his chair in with a self-directed nod. "What I would like to do, however, is include you, both of you actually, in more of the running of this Kingdom. You'll have no legal authority, of course, but I can oversee what you do and put my signature on it, as it were. Does that sound reasonable?"

"Yes!" Alfred and Arthur both replied, though Arthur's was more a sigh of relief and Alfred's a whoop of excitement.

"Excellent. Then I will give you gentlemen the rest of the day off. We will begin work next week. For now, I think we all need a rest from so much... activity." He departed as the two boys gave their thanks and were left alone.

Alfred turned sideways in his chair, throwing an elbow over the back of it and then leaning his cheek on his arm. "Two years, huh?"

"It doesn't seem like much time does it?"

"Really? It seems like ages to me!"

Arthur laughed. "Well, that's only because you're far too excited about-". Catching himself and feeling painfully self-aware, Arthur tried to flatten a piece of hair behind his ear. "You know..."

"Yeah, I do." Alfred took Arthur's hand and pulled it away from his fussing, letting the fingertips nestle gently and unassumingly in his palm. "And, yeah, I am."

They had been friends for far too long and held hands far too often before for Arthur to find an excuse to shake Alfred off, so he allowed their palms to slip fully together and fingers to arrange themselves comfortably. "Alfred, you're very sweet, and especially sweet to me, and it's not that I don't appreciate it, but-"

"Do you remember when I got mad at you for liking Matt so much?" Alfred was staring at their hands with a pained expression.

"When? On my birthday? That was so long ago Alfred, it doesn't-"

"I threw a giant fit and I made you promise you liked me best and then I made you hold my hand all night?"

"Yes, I remember." Arthur gulped awkwardly, not liking or understanding where Alfred was going with all this.

"That's all I could think about just now. When Yao was talking about my parents and... I don't know, I just remembered it and I'm kind of sorry that I was such a brat about it, but at the same time... I don't know." Alfred's brow furrowed even more, as if concentrating on their hands was the most important thing in the world, and he squeezed down a little. It wasn't enough to be uncomfortable, and Arthur thought it might even feel nice if circumstances were different. A small part of Arthur's brain flared up in shock that he had just thought about wanting to hold Alfred's hand more often, but the majority of his thinking power was channelled toward finding a way to comfort Alfred.

"I still do, Alfred. I still "like you best", as you say." Arthur mumbled out his offering, but Alfred still looked up at him with such a relieved expression that he might as well have shouted it.

"Do you?"

"He's just my friend." It it didn't feel right to say that Matthew was just anything to Arthur, but it was close enough to true that he only felt a tiny twinge of guilt in saying it.

Alfred smiled crookedly and Arthur's stomach did an idiotic flip. "And I'm not? I'm more than that?"

Arthur dropped his hand away from Alfred's and stood, putting the chair between himself and Alfred's hungry look. "Don't do that. Don't make me say that, please."

"Fine, fine." Alfred stood as well and leaned over to kiss Arthur's cheek. "Even if it's true."

"And the worst of it is, I think the fool already thinks he loves me."

Matthew glared heavily at Arthur before rolling his eyes and leaning farther over the wooden fence, clicking his tongue and reaching his hand out to tempt the yearlings inside closer.

"What was that look for?"

"Nothin'. But for someone so smart, you sure are an idiot, Arthur."

"How's that, then?"

Giving up on the horses, Matthew blew some hair out of his eyes and turned around to lean his elbows up against the fence. "I've been telling you for ages that this was coming, but you kept brushing it off."

"Well, I didn't think you meant love love, I just thought you meant..."

"What? What other meaning does love have other than love?"

"Plenty!" Arthur huffed and crossed his arms over a fencepost, leaning his chin into the cradle they made. "Love can be anything! It can be parent and child or siblings or...", he glanced at Matthew, "... or friends. You never specified!"

"I didn't think I had to! Alfred's not exactly shy about what he's thinking or feeling. I've had to tell him to shut up a few times before it made me sick! I assumed he'd be the same way around you."

"Well, he's not!" Arthur was just short of being exasperated enough to stamp his foot, but his voice sounded too whiny for his liking. "And what's he been saying to you, anyway?"

Scratching at the back of his neck, Matthew became highly interested in the state of his boots. "Nothing that bears repeating."

"No, tell me!"

"It's embarrassing, though!"

"All the more reason you should tell me!" Arthur could see Matthew wasn't going to budge and give up Alfred's secrets, so he tried a different tactic. "He's jealous of you, you know."

Matthew pushed himself up and backwards until he was sitting on top of the fence and swung his feet. "Yeah, he told me that, too."

"What?"

"I don't know why, though. I'm not interested in you like that." Matthew shrugged. "He just doesn't know any better, I guess."

"You're not?" Arthur tried to make it sound like a statement instead of a question, but mostly it just sounded needy and pitiful.

Matthew laughed and squinted down at him through the mid-afternoon sun. "No! I mean, you're great and all, but c'mon... and it's not like you think about me like that either." Arthur didn't say anything and turned his attention back to the horses. "Right?"

Making what he hoped was a casual gesture, Arthur huffed again. "Of course not. That is, I suppose you're kind and good looking from a certain distance, maybe, but I hardly notice, no."

"Wow, that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

Arthur discarded tact in favour of sticking his tongue out at Matthew and they both laughed.

"It's just not easy with Alfred. Not like this."

"It shouldn't be. It wouldn't be worth anything if you didn't have to work at it."

"Ugh!"

"Do you... do you care about him though?"

Half smacking himself on his cheek, Arthur cupped his chin in his hand and leaned wearily against the fence post. "It's just that he's so much younger!"

"Four years is nothing!"

"There is a vast difference between thirteen and seventeen."

"But it doesn't seem so bad when it's fifteen and nineteen. Or twenty-four and twenty-eight. Or eighty-eight and ninety two!"

"Oh dear, who's taught you how to count?" Arthur said dryly, and Matthew tried to playfully kick at him from his perch. "You really don't think it matters?"

"Not at all. I mean..." Matthew looked away and Arthur could have sworn he was turning pink, but they'd been out in the sun for so long he couldn't be sure."... well, someone could be twice your age and be all kinds of wonderful and then it wouldn't really matter would it? Not if you both cared about each other. So four years isn't so much when you think about it."

"I suppose not." Arthur made a disgusted noise through his nose and turned to Matthew. "I still don't want to kiss him, though."

Matthew just laughed and jumped down from the fence. "I'm not sure you're going to get much of a choice. He's stubborn. And strong."

"I can defend myself, thank you very much."

After a moment of looking back out over the enclosure, Matthew stood close and nudged Arthur with his shoulder. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Of course!"

"Okay, well, this is about you, sort of, and I'll kind of be ruining a surprise, but I think it will make my point, so..."

"So, tell me!"

Matthew pointed out to the middle of the field with one hand shaded over his eyes. "You see that colt that looks bigger than the rest?"

"The blonde one?" Arthur didn't know anything about horse colourings or markings, and he hoped Matthew wouldn't make fun of him for using such an obtuse term.

"Yes, and it's funny you should say that. Alfred talked Yao into saving that one for you, special. It's going to be your birthday present next year, so act surprised."

Arthur stood on the bottom rung of the fence and leaned over, squinting to get a better look at the colt. It was a lovely looking animal, graceful and more lively than most of his penmates.

"Do you like him?"

"He's gorgeous, but I don't understand what I've done to deserve him."

"The reason he picked that one was because he said the coat matched your hair colour and that you would look beautiful riding him."

"You're making that up."

"I promise I'm not. You can ask Gilbert the next time he visits."

"Gilbert? When did all this happen?"

"During Council. Gilbert set up some races and Alfred tagged along and then they stayed for a while afterwards and we all got to talking."

Hopping down from the fence Arthur rounded on Matthew only half-jokingly. "Yes, I heard all about your and Gilbert's shenanigans while he was here!"

Matthew held up his hands in defence and cowered into his shoulders. "It was completely innocent! We just went into the city with some of the other hands and he took us to an inn and we had a few drinks and that was all!"

"I know what goes on in places like that!"

"No! It's not what you think! He took us to a nice, respectable place, and paid for everything! Nothing dirty happened, I swear. And the race was just for fun. I didn't think I was going to win! I didn't want to take his money, really, but I beat him and he wouldn't take no for an answer!"

"Wait! You raced Gilbert?"

"Yeah! He challenged me, just as a joke, but then he put money on it." Matthew tucked his hair behind his ears and bit his lip. "I think he let me win. He's too good of a rider, even for me."

"Somehow, Alfred failed to mention all this," Arthur said bitterly and crossed his arms.

"He was probably too excited about the horse," Matthew teased with a nod of the head toward the field, and a crooked smile that looked far too much like Alfred's for Arthur's liking. "You do like him, don't you?"

"Yes, Matthew, the horse is wonderful. I've already said as much."

"No, no!" Matthew chuckled and swatted Arthur's arm. "I meant Alfred."

"Oh." Arthur busied himself with adjusting the cuffs of his shirt and picking imaginary lint from his stomach. "I don't dislike him. He's... pleasant. Far too sweet to me, I think, but pleasant."

Matthew grinned at him wryly and shook his head.

"What?"

"Your voice is doing that thing where it gets all high because you're trying to tell the truth and lie at the same time."

"Ugh!" Arthur threw his hands into the air with forced dramatic exasperation. "I don't have to stay here and listen to these accusations or submit to interrogation! Good day to you, sir!"

Matthew laughed along with him, and waved goodbye, but stopped Arthur short of leaving. "Can I be serious for a minute though? I know no one can make you feel anything, but Arthur, at some point you're going to have to decide what you want and you're going to have to work to get it. Alfred may be stubborn and forward, but he's young and he has no idea what he's doing. Don't make him suffer just because you're scared. He is too, I promise. Probably too scared to make any advances, despite all his big talk. So, I'm not saying you have to love him or anything, but just... if you do, don't wait for him to figure it out. He's an idiot."

Arthur was quiet and felt his stomach churn and heat up with some chaotic energy. His face felt warmer as well, and he knew he'd been out in the sun too long. Nodding, he offered Matthew a shy smile. "I think I may have just realized that I'm an idiot, too."

Matthew returned the smile and leaned back casually on the fence, pretending to examine his fingernails. "Oh, I've known that for years."

The summer ended with little fanfare. With Council so recently over, there was little work to be done politically, save for the few domestic issues that arose occasionally. Arthur found himself with more time to spare than Alfred, who was more often than not shadowing Yao as he managed finances and read petitions and did all manner of deeply important and staggeringly boring work. Alfred seemed to enjoy it, however, especially anything having to do with numbers. Yao quickly figured out that he could let Alfred loose on financial problems and he'd have a solution within the hour, and with a little double checking and discussion, they made more progress together than Yao ever had alone.

Feeling a tad useless, Arthur took to writing letters. If diplomatic relations with the other Kingdoms was going to be his responsibility, there was no sense in waiting for something to drastic to happen to establish contact. It was difficult at first to know what to say or how to address the other Queens, but Arthur settled on a polite and light-hearted approach. He knew that he needed their friendship and trust in order to have a respectful working relationship, but being unaccustomed to having many friends, Arthur hoped that his efforts would come off as genuine and not as foolish or self-serving.

The first reply came a month later, from Kiku, who was cryptic as always, but at least did not seem put out, and invited Arthur to write more often and to be sure to include updates about Yao and Alfred's well-being. Arthur obliged, and after a time, he began to look forward to Kiku's letters. He had been on the throne longer than any of the other Queens, and Arthur felt like he was learning so much even if Kiku said very little. It was an art, reading between the lines of pleasantries and delicate handwriting, but Arthur knew it would pay off the next time they met in person.

Lilli's letters were short, and often apologetic. Although he had no honest love for her, Arthur bore her no ill-will and had more than forgiven her, but the foolish girl seemed determined to torture herself over what had happened. It was with a self-deprecating grin that Arthur realised he cared not for what Lilli did, so long as she stayed far away from Alfred and married Francis like she was supposed to. In his most truthful moments with himself, Arthur could admit he had been and was still jealous of Lilli, but what mattered now was that she was back in her Kingdom, and Alfred was here with him. Occasionally Francis would slip a note in for Arthur, usually just some friendly greetings and well-wishes, or a funny story he thought Arthur might like. As intimidated by Francis as he was, Arthur was beginning to see through to his true personality, most of which was endearing, some of which was abhorrently crass and irritating. Francis urged Arthur to ask Alfred to write to him, and Arthur did so, but whether or not anything came of it, he didn't know.

Queen Elizaveta's letters were infrequent due to distance and the travelling hardships of her country, but she made up for it by making them fantastically long. They were like the adventure novels Arthur still had hidden beneath his bed; filled with intrigue and mystery and dramatic tales, half of which Arthur dared to think Elizaveta was making up. She made her country seem like such a lively and interesting place, full of adventurous people, and Arthur found himself looking forward to the next time the Clubs would host the Deck Council just to see if it was all true. Sometimes she folded odd little presents into her letters- a white dove feather she found on a walk, paper cut outs, pieces of ribbon that she said "reminded her of Arthur", and once a tiny white flower, pressed and dried between a sheet of tissue paper. Elizaveta wrote that it only grew within the borders of the Kingdom of Clubs, and it was one of the few flowers that grew there at all. Arthur put the flower, cradled gently in its tissue paper, in the trinket drawer of his music box, along with all the other things Elizaveta had sent him. Smiling, he thought that maybe she was just as lonely and desperate for an outlet as he had been as a child, and the strange gifts and exaggerated stories were her way of reaching out. He looked forward to her letters most of all, not because they were educational or beneficial to the House of Spades, but because he felt closer and closer to the eccentric Queen, a woman he had far underestimated and vastly misunderstood.

As much as Arthur's relationships the other Queens were thriving, his relationship with Anne had continued to wither. She barely spoke to him, only asking if he needed anything else after her basic duties were done for the day, and never responding unless to a direct question. Arthur had apologized, and sincerely meant it, and Anne had said she understood, but still nothing changed. She often asked Arthur if she could be dismissed early if he had no need of her, and he obliged, and would watch as she walked out of the side courtyard down into the back alleys of the city, towards her own home and husband and children, eager to be rid of the palace and eager to be rid of Arthur. He had no idea what he needed to do to win her trust and affection back, but in the meantime he could do nothing but be civil and show her just how much he missed the way things had been.

Arthur had been so caught up in his own problems, and Alfred so busy helping Yao, that they had barely had any time to see one another. There were lessons, of course, but those were becoming infrequent as Yao shifted the focus from academics to real world learning. They saw each other at meal times, and usually in the evening before bed, but other than that they had been separated by duty. Arthur wondered if this is what it would be like when they were crowned and married, and he was chagrined at the thought that it would be even worse once they took on their full responsibilities and that he missed the simple pleasure of talking with Alfred or going on walks and getting lost in play for hours.

Perhaps it was this separation that caused the changes in Alfred to go unnoticed to Arthur's eyes for so long, or perhaps it was simply that Arthur hadn't cared to see them at all, but one evening over supper he looked up and hardly recognized the person sitting across from him. Arthur had gone through a late growth spurt in the fall, but it was nothing compared to Alfred's. He looked broader in the shoulders and was finally growing into the size of his hands and feet, no longer an awkward, pudgy thing on stilts, but the semblance of a man. He wasn't one, not remotely, but his jaw was beginning to square and Arthur could tell by the beginnings of a fresh shadow on his upper lip that Alfred was shaving. He still had blemishes and was a ways off from losing all his softness, but for the first time Arthur didn't think he was just sweet-looking. He thought he was attractive.

Arthur dropped his fork and it clattered noisily onto his plate.

"Arthur?" Yao stopped to stare at him, his own fork halfway to his mouth.

"Are you all right?" Alfred cocked his head to the side with a bemused expression.

And his voice. That had grown up too, to something between child and man, lower and smoother and richer and Arthur couldn't do anything but gawk with his hand still frozen mid-air and his face turning bright red because he'd been a complete idiot and missed everything and everything had suddenly become beautiful.

"You look like you've seen a GHOST!" Alfred's voice cracked wildly high on the last word, and he clapped a hand over his mouth in mortification.

They all went still, Arthur with his mouth open and hand raised, Yao with his forkful of food still halfway to its destination, and Alfred who had somehow managed to out-blush Arthur and was squeezing his own face hard enough that it was going white beneath his fingertips.

Yao burst out laughing, braying so hard he had to back his chair away from the table to bend over and hug himself. Alfred's shoulders started shaking and he tried so hard not to laugh that he snorted and Arthur could contain himself no longer. They laughed themselves into exhaustion, and Arthur was wiping the corners of his eyes because he couldn't seem to stop tearing up. He half-sobbed and half-laughed until his stomach hurt too much to continue, grateful that neither Alfred or Yao asked him if he was all right again.

He was about as far from all right as he had ever been, but this time, it felt wonderful.

Alfred was locked up the with physician and the glass maker again. This was the third appointment in as many weeks, and Arthur had no idea what they were doing. He knew that Alfred needed spectacles like the Jack of Clubs had, but he didn't understand the process. He'd always thought that they just put some bits of glass into a metal frame and that was it and it would magically make the wearer's eyesight better. Instead it seemed to be a lot of staring at letters on pieces of parchment and trying not to blink while the physician tried to measure bits of one's eye and wrote down complicated numbers and then having drops put in that made everything big and blurry.

Arthur only knew this because he'd had to undergo the indignity of of having his eyes examined as well. Yao said they might as well check his vision for any irregularities and get it taken care of then wait for Arthur to notice a problem. Arthur insisted he could see perfectly fine, and was quite smug about it when the physician verified as much. Alfred wasn't so lucky, however, and the physician kept coming back with different bits of glass lens to see what would work.

Sitting in the front room of his chambers, Arthur was preoccupying himself with a book, almost dozing off in the warmth provided by the fire Anne had lit in the hearth before departing for the day. The book was just slipping through his fingers and his chin was sinking towards his chest when there was a light, rapid knocking at the door.

"Arthur, are you in there?"

"What? Yes! Uh, yes, come in!"

Alfred entered with his hands behind his back and kicked the door shut behind him. He was chewing his lip and looked on the verge of tears, and Arthur stood with the instinct to wrap his arms around him, even if he never got as far as actually doing so.

"What's the matter? What's happened?"

"D-don't laugh, all right?"

"At what?"

Hands fumbling nervously, Alfred unfolded a pair of wire-frame spectacles and hooked them over his ears glumly, pushing the bridge up his nose with a sad sigh. His cheeks were sucked in from gritting his jaw and he looked everywhere but at Arthur.

"Oh."

"They look awful don't they? I look so stupid!"

"No! They... er... they look nice." Arthur shoved his hands in his pockets. "You look... good. You look good."

"Really?"

They did look good. Square and silvery, the frames obliterated any of the childishness left in Alfred's face. Arthur was sure it would return as soon as Alfred smiled, but he looked mature and elegant now as he pouted at the floor. Arthur's heart skipped a little beat to see him looking so gentlemanly, and he couldn't help it as he reached out and nudged Alfred's chin up.

"They look marvellous. Dashing, even."

Alfred laughed and brushed away Arthur's hand. "You're just saying that- whoa!" He suddenly took Arthur's face between his hands and opened his eyes wide. "Whoa!"

"What are you doing?" Arthur grunted as he tried to pull away, but then Alfred was gently touching the tops of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose and it was such a peculiar gesture that Arthur stopped moving.

"You have freckles! I never saw them before, but you have them!"

Arthur cleared his throat in discomfort, but let Alfred continue prodding at his face. The tiny spots were a point of vanity for Arthur, and he spent too many mornings trying to scrub them away, even if he knew they would fade over time.

"I thought you couldn't see far away things."

"That was the worst, but everything was kind of blurry." Alfred shrugged, then went back to petting Arthur's freckles. "They're so light! I guess that's why I couldn't see them."

"They're just freckles, Alfred, honestly. Plenty of people get them."

"But yours are beautiful!"

Stomach doing a fragile somersault, Arthur grabbed Alfred's wrists and pushed them away. "They're silly little sunspots. There's nothing beautiful about them. They're common."

Alfred altered Arthur's grip so that he could hold both his hands and grinned. "Nothing about you is common. Or silly."

Where he was learning to talk like that, Arthur had no clue. Well, perhaps he did, but he didn't want to believe that Alfred was being coached long-distance by Francis, even if the words did sound like something smooth and sweet that would come out of the King of Diamond's mouth. Alfred lacked some of the finesse, but none of the sincerity, and Arthur licked and pressed his lips together bashfully. The spectacles made Alfred's eyes seem larger and bluer and deeper and brighter and Arthur leaned forward, wanting so badly to do something that would rid Alfred's mouth of its merry curve. He might have succeeded if the spectacles had not slipped a tiny bit down Alfred's nose and he had pulled away to push them back into place.

"Well, how about this? If my freckles aren't silly, then neither are your glasses," Arthur asserted after he regained the ability to speak. "Deal?"

Ignoring the offered handshake, Alfred kissed Arthur swiftly on each cheek and on the tip of the nose, laughing when Arthur wiped away the feeling with the back of a hand.

"Deal."

"It's freezing! Can we please go back inside?" Arthur shivered violently and stuck his hands into his armpits. It had started snowing only minutes earlier and Alfred had dragged him from the warmth of the fireplace in the parlour to inspect the frigid fluff.

"But it's the first snow of winter! It's the best one!" Alfred laughed and craned his head back to the sky with his mouth open, trying to catch the flakes on his tongue, but mostly looking foolish.

Arthur didn't understand what was so good about it being the first snow other than that it was late this year, but he put up with it and smiled; it was worth braving the cold to see Alfred spinning around and laughing and batting at the snowflakes. He twirled around in it for a few minutes more while Arthur trembled and bounced to keep warm, and his face was gorgeously flushed by the time he returned to simply watch the lazy patterns floating down from the sky. Alfred smiled at Arthur, snowflakes melting in his hair, and Arthur smiled back when he was pulled in close to share Alfred's radiating heat. It didn't seem so cold when he had Alfred's arm around him, even less so when both were wrapped around his waist and the only thing keeping them from being nose to nose was Arthur's arms crossed over his chest to keep his fingers warm.

"Hello." Alfred cooed brightly, and Arthur laughed.

"Hello to you. Do you mind me asking what it is we're doing?"

"Keeping warm." Alfred pulled him closer still and Arthur had to lean backwards or else be forced to put his arms around Alfred's neck. "Do you mind?"

"Not really." Arthur felt his chest burst with giddiness at the smile that earned him, but he wiggled his way out of Alfred's arms all the same. "But can we keep warm inside? It's starting to sting."

"Awww, it's not snowing that much!" Alfred had barely finished his sentence when it seemed as though the very heavens themselves opened up and dainty snowflakes turned into freezing sleet. They ran for the palace, going to the kitchen entrance to stomp their shoes and shake the snow off their clothing before ascending back into the parlour. Some of the servants gave them odd looks, but no one said anything, and Arthur found he didn't care what they thought as Alfred took his hand and led him back upstairs.

The fire was still blazing when they returned, and Arthur immediately went to wave his hands in front of it, trying to get some feeling back in his fingertips. Alfred kicked off his boots and watched as Arthur rubbed and clenched and stretched his hands.

"If my fingers fall off, it'll be all your fault!" Arthur teased.

"Here, let me help, then." Alfred took hold of Arthur's wrists and pulled them toward his face. Arthur didn't understand what he was doing, but then Alfred was blowing warm breath on the tips of his fingers and it felt so good that Arthur had to curl his hands into loose fists from the tingling. Before Alfred could succeed in gently prying them open, Arthur cradled his hands to his chest, and shook his head.

"Aren't your hands cold, too?" he asked Alfred and hoped the answer would be yes so he could do something equally strange and perfect.

"You tell me." Alfred moved as though to present Arthur with his hands, but then he lurched forward and put them on the sides of Arthur's neck. Arthur squealed from the cold and shock and hunched his shoulders up, stumbling to get away, but Alfred didn't let him get far before he had him cornered against the sofa and was trying to blow into Arthur's ear.

"Alfred, stop!" Arthur cried between bouts of laughter and squirming, and he accidently brushed his hand along Alfred's ribcage. Alfred shuddered and pulled away, but Arthur returned his earlier attacks and set to tickling him with a devilish grin.

"N-no fair! St-stop I can't brea-breathe!" Arthur managed to push Alfred off the sofa and onto the floor, and he quickly sat on top of him to trap him. The laughter and pleading turned into hollering and whooping and kicking legs and bucking hips and Arthur was holding on for dear life, but still getting enough pokes and prods in that Alfred was rendered breathless and complacent within moments.

Arthur braced himself on his hands and knees, just as tired as Alfred, and panting as he surveyed his conquest. Alfred was an obscene shade of pink and his spectacles were knocked askew, hair sticking up with the remnants of melted snow and static from thrashing his head back and forth on the rug. He looked puffy and sweaty, but something in his contented listlessness was making Arthur's heart beat outrageously and he realized that he was in control. Arthur licked his lips and bent his elbows so that he was hovering just close enough to feel Alfred's rapid breaths on his face, and he was about to go lower when Alfred twitched bodily and pushed him off.

"No, uh, I..." Alfred stammered and crawled back onto the sofa, sitting stiffly and refusing to look down at Arthur who was still knocked sideways on the carpet and feeling quite confused. He waited for further explanation, but none came. Alfred looked miserable and lost and Arthur didn't understand what he had done to elicit such a reaction until he remembered what Matthew had said about Alfred being scared. Maybe Arthur had been the one coming on too strong for once. He was disappointed and left wanting something he didn't even have a proper word to describe.

Standing slowly, Arthur adjusted his clothing and toed off his boots. He cautiously approached the sofa and sat next to Alfred, waiting to see if he would say or do anything. All Arthur heard was a loud gulp and the rustle of fabric as Alfred shifted further into the arm of the sofa. Deciding to act on what he wanted without questioning it for once, Arthur curled his legs up behind him and nestled closer until he could lay his head on Alfred's shoulder.

Alfred inhaled sharply, and Arthur expected to be pushed away, but he felt the long exhale and the relaxation in Alfred's body. Afterwards, the only sounds in the room were the crackling of the fire and the shallow, noisy thumps of Alfred's heart, a sound that made Arthur smile secretly and close his eyes.

The remainder of winter unfolded in a delicate dance that Arthur was mortified to realize he had never learned the steps to. Arthur was caught between his dignity and his desires; it would be so easy now to forget that he had ever worried about age or status or feeling unsure and just hold Alfred still and kiss him, but a nagging bit of Arthur's mind was warning and reminding him that they were both still inexcusably young. As much as holding back was starting torture him, he was too afraid of ruining the progress they had made to take a risk.

What had grown ever since that night in summer wasn't just some heavy physical craving, but something soft and pretty that Arthur could think about and feel wrapped up in right before he fell asleep or when he daydreamed or when he was lucky enough to make Alfred smile. He felt buoyant, like he could forever be held up just by the tingling in his chest and the warmth in his stomach. They were friends first, able to talk and laugh and work without the haze of romantic attraction to deter them, but the secondary attachment that was strengthening with every shy touch or teasing kiss on the cheek coloured Arthur's imagination in ways he'd never thought possible. He wondered if everyone felt like this the first time they fell in love and then he would get angry with himself for even entertaining the idea of love. However beautiful things seemed in his mind upon waking or when he caught Alfred watching him out of the corner of his eye, it wasn't easy. There were still days when things felt tense for no apparent, or one of them would say something insensitive to the other. Arthur's biting wit sometimes went farther than his hands wanted to, but in the wrong direction, or Alfred would get too frustrated and become crass. Even having lived side by side for so many years, there was a steep learning curve in trying to redefine what they meant to one another.

Arthur acted appropriately surprised when his birthday arrived and hugged Alfred fiercely enough to almost knock him off his feet. Yao just smiled and didn't say anything. Matthew introduced Arthur to his new companion, and promised to include him the rest of the breaking process over the next few years until the colt was old and strong enough to be truly ridden. He'd done an excellent job already, and Arthur could feel his heart melting when the colt approached without fear and demanded affection.

"You have to name him!" Alfred insisted, a ridiculously large grin plastered on his face as he watched Arthur and Matthew.

Arthur shook his head as he stroked the colt's neck. "No, this fellow and I aren't well acquainted enough yet for me to give him the name he deserves."

Granted a new excuse to get out of the palace, Arthur and Alfred took more frequent walks down to the stables that would invariably wander past the orchards and to the lake, more often than not hand in hand or arm in arm. It was almost natural to Arthur now, to be attached to someone and not feel like he was being led or was forced to lead. The contact was platonic most days, but every now and then Alfred would kiss his hand or give him that look that Arthur had come to recognize as adoration beyond friendship, and they would both flush and smile and be silently giddy until they returned to watchful captivity.

The last days of spring swelled with heat and the promise of another long summer, and Arthur was pulled out of bed much too early for his liking to cater to Alfred's newest whim. After begging Matthew to neglect his duties for the day, the trio set off for the lake, fishing gear and blankets in hand. Matthew showed them around to the far shore where the tallest, thickest trees grew and their snaking roots had created a dark well of water, and swore that it was the best place for fishing and swimming. Arthur leaned over the bank and could see the maze descending into the lake, but he couldn't make out the bottom and quickly contented himself with sitting on one of the blankets and reading a book while the two brothers busied themselves with bait and hooks.

Several hours and as many chapters later, no fish had been caught and it was so hot out that everything had gone still. Arthur laid down on his blanket after kicking off his shoes and rolling up his shirt sleeves, staring at the thick green canopy overhead. He recalled the time he'd sworn he'd seen something magical in these woods, and rolled over on his stomach to peer into the bushes behind him with a prickle of hope and paranoia. It had been so long since his Gift had been used that he wondered if he even had it anymore, and that thought made him so sad that he contemplated abandoning the afternoon out of doors to hole back up in his room.

"Nothing's biting." Alfred whined obtusely and Matthew agreed, coming away from the water and leaning his fishing pole against a tree.

"Do you want to go back?" Arthur sat up and tried not to sound too eager, but Alfred shook his head and smiled instead, tapping Matthew's arm and cocking his head toward the lake with a jerk.

"Swim?"

"Yeah, it's too hot."

Arthur could do nothing but sit in growing mortification as both boys stripped down to their undergarments, Alfred making sure to fold his spectacles safely into his bundle of clothing before dipping his toes into the lake.

"Are you both insane?" Arthur screeched and averted his eyes.

"Don't be such a prude, Arthur! It's too hot and I don't want to go back inside yet!"

"Do you even know how to swim!"

"Yeah, Alfred, do you?" Matthew asked with genuine concern.

Alfred shrugged and gave himself enough room for a running start. "We'll find out!"

He barrelled toward the water and jumped in and Arthur leapt to his feet, nervous when the water went still for a few moments before a blonde, wet head was bobbing back to the surface. Alfred sprayed water out of his mouth and tread the water in stilted motions, but seemed to be fine.

"C'mon, it's perfect!"

Matthew didn't need to be asked twice and dove in.

"Aren't you coming in, Arthur?" Alfred called.

"Uh... no, no thank you, it's fine, I don't swim."

"But it's hot out! C'mon, just do it! Nothing's going to happen!"

"It really is nice, Arthur," Matthew put in, but didn't pressure, deciding to dive back down into the water.

Arthur didn't want to be left out, and it was becoming uncomfortably warm, but the thought of taking his clothing off made him nervous. He wasn't as good looking as Matthew or Alfred. He hadn't wanted to look, but it had been nearly impossible and he now he knew just how much he didn't measure up physically. Alfred didn't have as much of the defined muscle that Matthew did in his stomach and arms, but then again, he was younger and didn't work as hard. Still, Arthur's eyes were drawn to the bare skin because it was so new and strange to him. Stranger still was seeing Matthew half-naked; Arthur almost wished that his friend had stayed as shy as he was in childhood, because his casual attitude was making focusing difficult for Arthur now. An odd streak of guilt pulsed in Arthur's belly as he admitted to himself that Matthew was indeed quite good-looking. There was something about the lightness of his hair and the distinct lines of his tan from working in the sun that Arthur found appealing, even when he knew that that train of thought was troublesome.

Chewing his lip, Arthur undid the buttons on his shirt, but left it on, and stepped out of his trousers, pulling the bottom hem of his undergarments down in the silent wish that they were longer and covered more of his skinny legs.

"Are you coming?"

"I don't know, I feel strange doing this. I don't even know how to swim!" Arthur started buttoning his shirt back up. "No, I can't. I can't do it."

"Are you going to make me get out and come get you?"

"What! No! Please, Alfred really-"

But it was too late and Alfred had climbed back onto the grassy shoreline, dripping wet and what little clothing he still had on turned nearly see-through. Arthur tried to dodge him, but wasn't fast enough and his shirt was being pulled over his head and he flinched at the wet skin against him, but Alfred was smiling and laughing and Arthur found he wasn't too terribly frightened anymore.

"Alfred, be nice!" Matthew warned, but Alfred ignored him and lifted Arthur completely off the ground. Arthur kicked his legs and squirmed, but he was being gripped too tightly.

"Let me go! Now! Alfred? Alfred, put me down!"

"Suit yourself!" Alfred chided before tossing Arthur right into the lake and jumping in after.

Arthur held his breath just in time and plummeted into the cool depths of the lake. It was so quiet and peaceful underwater, but the unending darkness made him uneasy and the dispersing bubbles and ripples from his descent, and Alfred's following right after, distorted his view so that he hardly knew which way was up. A tiny burst of panic lit in Arthur's chest and flailed his arms and legs around to propel himself to what he hoped was the surface, and a hand shot out to grab his and pull him toward the light above.

"Are you all right?"

Spluttering and half-sinking again, Arthur latched onto Alfred helplessly. "No! I almost drowned!"

"Oh, you did not!" Alfred bobbed inefficiently as he tried to find a way to support both of their weights and still tread water. "You need to let go of me or we're both going to sink."

"You deserve it after trying to kill me!"

"Arthur, give me your hand." Matthew said, swimming over to the floundering pair with an exasperated sigh.

Arthur did as he was asked and Alfred pried himself free, leaving him feeling exposed and terrified.

"You're fine! Arthur, listen to me! Try to lie on your back."

"What! Why? That sounds like an awful idea!" Arthur choked out between mouthfuls of water.

"No, it's an easy way to float, I promise."

Trusting that Matthew wasn't lying more out of fear than any actual confidence, Arthur rolled himself backwards until his legs came to the surface and he was floating on his back. He didn't let go of Matthew's hand but he smiled and took a deep breath.

"See? That's not so bad is it?"

"No, it's nice, actually." Everything sounded muffled and distorted with the water lapping and Arthur's ears, and he didn't like that his stomach was mostly exposed, but it still felt safer than being upright.

Arthur was too afraid to be by himself for a while, and Matthew and Alfred took turns holding on to him so he wouldn't float away. After a bit, Arthur figured out how to propel himself around and swam with greater confidence. Alfred made fun of him and told him he was doing everything upside and backwards, but any disparaging remarks earned him swift splashes from both Arthur and Matthew.

They passed more time swimming and playing, sometimes in silence and sometimes talking about nothing. Matthew got out of the water first, neglecting to dress himself again in favour of lying on a blanket and dozing off. Growing tired and chilled, Alfred and Arthur followed soon after and the moment Arthur was dry enough, he put his shirt and trousers back on with the hems rolled up. Arthur glared at Alfred until he at least donned his trousers and they basked in the afternoon heat, growing content.

Lying on his stomach with his arms tucked into his chest, Arthur sighed happily when Alfred reached out and stroked gentle, languid circles across his back.

"Sorry. About earlier."

"No harm done," Arthur murmured sleepily, eyes fluttering shut.

"No, I was being an ass." Alfred's petting stopped. "Do you want to go for a walk?"

"Now?"

"Yeah. Please?"

He was too comfortable to want to move, but Arthur was puzzled by the tone of Alfred's voice and strained look on his face, so he agreed.

They walked quietly along the lake-shore, bare feet cushioned by grass and soft dirt, and it came as a relief when Alfred finally slipped his hand into Arthur's. This was normal and comforting, and it made Arthur hopeful that something strange wasn't going on in Alfred's head. They deviated into the woods, and the stillness and heavy quality of the air made Arthur's skin itch and he shivered.

"Are you cold?"

"Hmm? Oh, I don't know."

"How can you not know?" Alfred teased, but stopped and rubbed up and down the bare parts of Arthur's arms. Arthur didn't like the sad, introspective set of his face, and stilled his hands.

"Alfred, what are you thinking about?"

"I was being immature earlier-"

"I told you, I don't mind it wasn't-"

"Hold on let me finish. So it made me think about what you said after the Council. That you needed time because you couldn't see me that way?"

"Oh." Arthur didn't know what else to say and he looked past Alfred's shoulder circumspectly.

"And I was just wondering... I'm going to be fifteen in a couple of months and well... do you still not see me that way? Has anything changed? I mean, I feel like it has, but I need to know for sure if you still think of me as a child, Arthur."

Turning away, Arthur busied himself with plucking leaves off of one of the high bushes. He hadn't thought it necessary to declare that things were different now; he'd assumed and hoped that Alfred would get the hint and move forward with his courtship, but then Arthur remembered Matthew's warning and he mentally scolded himself for being a coward still.

"We do so many things that are not just friendly, Alfred. What do you think?"

"I want to know."

Giving a harsh tug to a branch, Arthur could hear the blood rising in his ears. "I don't think of you as a child. That is, you're young- we both are- but no, it's... it's not like it was."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Do you love me?"

Arthur's stomach plummeted, but he couldn't lie. "No. Not fully. Not yet. But I care for you deeply." He felt more naked now than he had been while swimming and his cheeks burned at the humiliation of having to confess on the spot.

"Oh." Alfred sounded disappointed, but not heartbroken. "Do you remember when I kissed you on your birthday and you got mad at me?"

"Yes, of course, why?" Arthur laughed nervously.

"May I kiss you now?"

Arthur plucked another leaf off the bush and shredded it just to have something to do with hands, watching as the ruined bits floated down in twists and lilts.

"Why are you asking permission?"

He almost jumped when he felt gentle, but assertive, fingers lift his chin, and he pressed his lips together in panic. This was too hard. Meeting Alfred's gaze was too hard, and he didn't want to do it, even if it was making his stomach do tiny hopeful flips and his blood sing in his ears.

"Because I'm trying to deserve your love, not command it," Alfred said, and Arthur realized he was looking up not only because of the slight difference in their heights, but because his knees were threatening to buckle as he swayed inward despite the voice in his head screaming at him to run. He was holding his breath, the burn of it radiating up to his face and searing what little dignity he had left.

Alfred smiled a wayward smile and leaned down, voiced lowered ever so slightly. "So… are you going to let me kiss you or not?"

Yes. Arthur could feel the word dancing on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to open his mouth and let it free. He was torn between collapsing into Alfred, burdening him with his weight and weakness again and shoving his way out of his embarrassment and abandoning any needy thoughts racing through his mind.

"No."

Now Alfred did look heartbroken and he stepped back and removed his fingers from under Arthur's chin.

You're going to have to work for what you want, Arthur thought to himself and leaned forward and up, one hand going to the back of Alfred's head to pull him down and the other grabbing his bare shoulder for balance. He inexpertly smashed his mouth against Alfred's, jarred by the clink of teeth, his lower lip pinched painfully in between. Arthur was vaguely grateful that Alfred had neglected to put his spectacles back on, angles and noses making this first kiss difficult enough. Caught off guard, Alfred's first instinct was to resist, and he exhaled with noisy surprise into Arthur's mouth, and Arthur pulled away with a cough.

"I'm not going to let you do anything, do you understand?" Arthur asserted when he'd regained his composure, fingers tangling in Alfred's hair and the other hand sliding up to cup the side of his neck tenderly.

Alfred could do nothing but nod in shock until Arthur pulled him back down with more control and kissed him again. Prepared this time, Alfred's hands and lips went into action. He got one hand pressed firmly between Arthur's shoulder blades to crush him even further towards him, the other going to cup Arthur's cheek. They struggled to line themselves up correctly in the frenzy of limbs and shared excitement that this was finally happening, but the Arthur turned his head just so and everything clicked. It was wet and sticky and lacked any finesse or care, but it was theirs and that alone made Arthur's heart soar. He went on tiptoe, not because he had to, but because he felt like he was going to lift right off the ground and float away, and Alfred let him have the upper hand in the disastrous kiss. Arthur took advantage of his submission, drowning in the noisy smack of unskilled lips and the press and drag of his clothed body against Alfred's bare chest and the Alfred's wild breath rolling across his cheek. When he couldn't bear to feel anything more, Arthur rocked back on his heels, satisfied with the dishevelled state of Alfred's hair and thin glistening of saliva on his bottom lip.

"That was-" Alfred's voice cracked from breathlessness.

"Awful. That was awful."

"What?"

Arthur smoothed down Alfred's hair dotingly and smiled coyly at him, but kept his tone of voice stern. "We're going to need much more practice if that is ever going to be effective."

Alfred seemed lost for a moment, but then he understood and didn't even bother trying to make his smile look charming and adult. Instead he looked giddy and out of his mind and said, "I completely agree."

A/N: Long chapter filled with garbage fluff to make up for a late update. :|