as always, i do not own the selection nor hetalia. these belong to kiera cass and himaruya hidekaz respectively.
The first thing Arthur responded to was the sunlight slashing through his tinted windows and a sense of relief. Partly telling one of his secrets to Alfred felt like a huge load off his chest. He got ready for the morning, requesting the same foods he'd eaten yesterday and steadfastly refusing any of Anna's help in attempting to tame his unruly hair. Perhaps he'd even go downstairs to the Drawing Room that morning after breakfast.
She produced a slightly thick envelope with a red seal whilst she came upstairs to collect his serving tray. The ones that came with his family always had a simple piece of tape over it; this must be from Kiku. His calm thoughts were quickly replaced with a sense of panic.
Arthur's suspicions were further confirmed by the elegant, sloping writing that he'd admired his best friend for countless times writing out Arthur Kirkland. About to tear into the letter, he paused when he noticed Anna waiting expectantly.
"Sir Arthur, before I leave you for the day," she said, "Could I just double check with you that the clothing's fit you so far? In case it doesn't, we'd have to do another fitting today, since we're still working off the measurements submitted by the holding facility on your behalf. For the Broadcast, that is."
"I haven't had any problems, no," Arthur said. "Don't worry about it, the measurements were taken around two months ago."
She acknowledged this with a nod, arranging his cup on her tray. "What about your outfit? Do you have any ideas?"
"I'd like to leave that to you, if that's all right. I don't have a sense for these things."
"That works for me," she said cheerfully. "See you," to which he replied in stead.
As soon as the door was shut, Arthur's fingers scrabbled to open the letter, barely taking a seat before he roved over it.
"Dear Arthur,
I hope this letter finds you well.
Thank you for notifying me of your conversation with His Highness. Please, do not feel too guilty for not being able to secure a pardon for Heracles. I expected as much, but I must also thank you for trying your very best. I know you did your utmost, and I greatly appreciate it. I am aware it is a far fetched question, but please, if there is any news about his conditions write me immediately.
Moving on, may I ask how it is in Spades? Of course, I was delighted to find out that you entered the Deciding. We had the pleasure of watching your interviews when they aired last night; you seemed incredibly charming and in your element. Though I will suspect that the person who was against the idea of the prince has changed, as well.
No matter, though, Art, I know that you understand yourself the best, not I – though I hope I know you well enough by this point. How is your family? Knowing you, you have written to them a dozen times already. If you must know, the letter I received from mine was merely to congratulate my entry, and to not forget that afterwards, if I failed to become chosen by the Fates, my duty was to simply return to my studies. Would it be too cynical to say they knew exactly of my plans?
That is not to say, I do not have the ambition to become the Hearts queen. Of course, it is a tall ambition. Like we were told countless times in lessons, the price of giving up their ability to choose their external successors in exchange for the power of giving life was made centuries ago, so there is nothing we can do about it except prove ourselves to those who can choose. In some ways, the atmosphere in the palace is like a ticking time bomb, and we are all powerless to do nothing but accept it.
How are you choosing to fill your empty hours? As you know me, I've decided to continue perusing my studies within the restraints of this fine palace. I was surprised that you did not make a beeline for the library as well.
Finally, do not worry. Please write as much and as frequently as you wish, as I will be doing the same. Our letters are not screened in Hearts either, so you may communicate whatever secrets you wish to tell me.
I remain
Your dearest friend,
Kiku Honda."
The second thing that Arthur responded to that day was the quiet knocking on his door that was distinct from Anna's cheerful series of raps.
Quickly abandoning his pen and letter with a flash, thanking the Fates he hadn't knocked anything over, he opened the door to see Leon's face.
"Good morning, Leon," Arthur said, feeling slightly out of breath. "Is there something I can do for you?"
"Arthur, morning. Could you, like, come down to the Drawing Room just for a sec?" Leon's normal speech was fast, but somehow he managed to speak faster and not trip over his own words. "If you're very busy, maybe not, but."
Though he had been the friendliest with him throughout the few weeks they had been here, Arthur still wouldn't chalk it up to himself to become completely trusting of Leon so quickly.
"Can I ask what's the occasion? Or is it just going to be the same as usual?"
Leon snorted, an expression of mirth on his face. "Arthur...you had a date yesterday, right? Finally."
"Yes, I suppose," Arthur said, biting his lip. The small plan the prince had concocted the other day had possibly gone a little too well. At Leon's quizzical appearance, he rushed to clarify it. "I mean. Yes, we did. Last night."
"You need to come down," he insisted, a flash of excitement passing over his usually composed face. "They've been talking incessantly about it. When I came back down for breakfast, they totally wouldn't stop hounding me about it!"
"Oh...I'm sorry about that, Leon," Arthur said, quickly following his friend's example in rushing down the corridor to the boys' rooms. He barely had time to try to wipe off the ink on the side of his right hand during the run.
"Anything you want to tell me that you can't tell the others?" Leon said. Feeling completely out of breath, Arthur could only shake his head, his hair getting even messier in the process. "Damn, really? That's a shame. No juicy details, huh?"
They rounded the corridor and down the steps. "No, it was just, er," Arthur panted, taking a moment to adjust his collar. "Talking. We went to the gardens and talked. That's all."
A hint of surprise flitted onto Leon's face, but he didn't show any more of it until he opened the door. The two of them were suddenly staring down a far too eager group that had been waiting impatiently.
It felt as if all hell had broken loose.
Almost immediately, Arthur fell into the same behaviour that he'd participated from time to time in the past week – he sat on a couch, Emma, Sakura and Leon sitting around him, everyone else following suit except one person. Sir Mark, apparently, was on a date, but that's all he was allowed to ask before he was bombarded with questions.
"Where did the two of you go?"
"The gardens, I think – Marianne said that's where it looked like they were coming from." One of the Chosen seated on the left piped up, looking at the girl. "That's what she told us, though."
"Yes, the gardens," he said hesitantly. Of course, he didn't want to share everything, but he could use the attention to his advantage. "We just exchanged words, though. Nothing nearly as romantic as what everyone else has been having with His Highness."
It was, in his head, the perfect deflection. Put himself out there, state that their date wasn't anything to be particularly excited about, then the questioning would be over and everyone would move on to the next person. He needed this plan to work, because he was painfully aware of a few cameras noticing the action and positioning themselves appropriately. It had to work, correct?
To his dismay, he could see a mixed reaction with the narrowing of eyes and frowns to the slacking of shoulders and sighs of relief. "Seriously?" someone responded, their tone disbelieving. "Just talking?"
"Yes," Arthur said. "Just speaking with one another." Boldly, perhaps a little too boldly, he continued on. "I'm certain it was nothing nearly as romantic as what everyone else had expected. His Highness was probably just giving me something to speak about on the Broadcast on Sunday."
A light muttering broke out amongst his peers. Marianne, the girl from before, stalked forward, her arms folded. "Are you deflecting, Arthur? Attempting to avoid letting us find out the true nature of your date?"
The words hung in the air to great effect. "What? I wouldn't do anything of the sort."
"You're from the holding facilities, correct? Are you trying to trick us all deliberately?" she sounded angry, and Arthur let his lips press into a thin line as he felt his friends shift uncomfortably around him. "Telling bare faced lies? Just tell us the truth."
If she thought he would take it without complaining in order to remain outside of conflict, she was wrong. "It's not a lie," Arthur retorted, bristling. "You can even ask His Highness yourself." It was possibly a foolish move, but he understood that they would only listen to Alfred now he'd worded it so oddly.
"Actually, we'll wait for him to get back from his date with Mark, then we'll ask, hm?" she said. "To see if you're really to be trusted. It goes without saying we don't take kindly to liars in the palace, do we?"
Mumbles of agreement echoed around the room that sunk into Arthur's stomach. He couldn't show weakness, so he folded his arms and glared haughtily at her. "Very well. We'll wait until he returns, then you may ask him all you like."
"Didn't expect that to happen," Leon hissed, his gaze darting around the room. "At least, not what anyone expected. I totally trust you, Arthur, though."
"I was going to tell you that Mark finally got his date today, but you knew that already." Emma said. Arthur tried to ignore her shaking hands fiddling with the edge of her yellow dress. "And I do too...but I didn't expect the two of you would just be speaking."
Sakura didn't speak, simply agreed in tandem with the two of them, but concern was painted all over her paling face. She could clearly sense Arthur's nervousness, though, offering a small smile.
"Well, that's a lot better than what I was thinking I'd get," Arthur said, not sure exactly what to say that would help alleviate their worries and his own in the same go. "I was expecting to go home before the week was finished, but it seems like it won't be the case."
Bracing for a scathing comment, he was surprised when none came. When the small group fell silent, he couldn't help but tune into what the others were saying.
"...do you think they...you know?" someone whispered, not exactly attempting to be discreet. He was pretty sure it was being done on purpose but yet he couldn't help but quieten his breathing so he'd be able to hear better past the thudding of his heart.
"I don't think so, but there are a lot of things you can't put past a holding facility kid. Of course, I wouldn't suspect His Highness to engage in any sort of behaviour like that." another said. "Though again, if he tried something like that, he wouldn't even be here right now."
"You're overthinking it." Arthur recognised the voice this time; to his surprise Alfonso had got up from his seat.
"Maybe he's just private. It's not like everyone's shared minute by minute recounts of their dates."
"I agree," Sakura said quietly, after a small lull. A muttering broke out between the group; she was almost always silent during these types of discussions. "Privacy is something everyone can have."
"You're from the Inner Circle," someone muttered, "Don't even bother."
"She's right, it doesn't matter here anymore," Emma retorted, standing up with her friend. Arthur couldn't help but blink at her in gratitude as well. "We all had the same schooling, had pretty much the same upbringing, so it's unfair to pick on others."
This caused even more commotion, though. "The past three Decidings in a row have been won by people outside of the holding facilities," came a response. "What do you make of that? Everyone knows that the holding facility kids just want to get a fancy job in the government to feed their starving families."
An incredibly charged silence followed, and of course he was the one to break it.
"Is there something wrong with that?" Arthur snapped, uncrossing his legs and standing in the general direction of the speaker. "Is my motivation of giving my family a better life a crime?"
"We didn't even say it was," a boy rose to counter him, his name badge thumping on his chest, as he folded his arms. "If you really wanted to earn as much money as possible, why aren't you applying for a government job instead of lounging around in the palace? There are some things you can't learn in the holding facilities no matter how hard you try, and behaviour is one of them."
Scathingly, he continued, walking forward until he physically towered over Arthur. "You've surrounded yourself with three people from the Inner Circle, surprise surprise. Well, Sir Arthur, have either of them told you to not speak up to your superiors in terms of rank and birth? Surely not, as those ghastly eyebrows and ratty hair hasn't changed from the first day. Perhaps it would be better to cower behind them until the prince arrives, yes?"
"You just want a rise out of me." Arthur snarled. His hands balled into fists; even though he'd stuffed them into his pockets the anger was still there. "To get me out of the competition. I've read the rules."
"Oh, what a good student," the other boy said mockingly, jutting his chin forward causing Arthur to stumble backwards. "Clumsy, aren't you? Did they not teach that in the holding facilities? Oh, that expression is certainly not royalty. It seems as if I'm going to get that rise, facility boy."
If it hadn't been for that cool hand tapping him once on the shoulder, Arthur might have socked him on the jaw. Or on the nose. Or both. He just knew that Leon hadn't pulled him backwards with a noncommittal, disapproving face, the other person would have been crying out in pain.
"Sit back down, Arthur," Leon hissed, "You're right. Don't forget the cameras are going to capture everything. Sit back down and, like, don't pay attention. Okay?"
Right. The blasted cameras. Exhaling once, Arthur unclasped his fists, smoothed the crease between his eyebrows, and sat down. A rather anticlimactic to a potentially good fight for television, but he wasn't willing to risk it. After all, each week in the palace meant more compensation to his family. Even if the prince got sick of him and Ace Matthew ended up not seeking him out, for that reason alone he was inclined to stay in the palace.
"...tch. Next time, you won't have your friends pulling you back. Then you'll be gone before the next Broadcast," One last taunt that Arthur shut his eyes tightly to ignore. "Won't that be a wonderful reward for your parents?"
Arthur's voice was suddenly like a magic amplifier, quiet yet charged.
"My parents? They're dead."
It was right before dinner until they got to discuss it for themselves.
"...that's what happened this afternoon."
"I see, thank you, Carlos," Matthew and Alfred chorused. Matthew's assigned lead advisor, Carlos, had been discreetly assigned to the Drawing Room as an undercover cameraman once Alfred had caught wind of the spats between the different factions that had cropped up. Even though Alfred wasn't exactly on the best terms with him due to his own treatment at the hands of the advisorship, he was relieved that Matthew could trust someone so firmly.
"Is there anything else the two of you would like to know, Matthew, Alfred?" Carlos asked. Thankfully, any semblance of formalities had been eliminated between themselves long ago. "Such as the people involved? There's video footage, if you would want me to put it on the port again. I showed the footage to Matthew before you returned from your date with Sir Matthew, Al."
"Yeah, sure," Alfred mumbled, readjusting his position and placing his chin on his hand lazily.
Matthew pinched his brother's cheek. "You'd like to watch this whilst Carlos and I sort out the rest of the Meeting preparations for today," he said as the two of them moved to leave the room.
Though he hadn't had time to actually seek Arthur Kirkland out for himself, the boy seemed to be making waves around the palace already. His date in the gardens with his brother had already made its way to the maids that aided Matthew; and Matthew himself had heard a small ramble about him from Alfred's own lips already. Admittedly, he didn't contact him just yet as he didn't have time to notify Gilbert of Kiku's friend entering the Spadian palace, but it seemed as if he already had a lot on his plate already.
"Ready, Matthew?" Carlos asked, already at the door that separated the twins' offices on the first floor. "You seem to be awfully busy."
"Perhaps," Matthew said quietly, dipping his head as he walked past in thanks. "At least, if you weren't leading this part of the project, I would be completely snowballed in work. Thank you for letting me assist you."
Carlos laughed, a familiar, hearty sound that never failed to put him at ease. "I try my best at my job, you know? All right, so what I've done is section out Day Three of the discussions by sector and export, such as..."
Meanwhile, Alfred was watching the argument. His shoulders hunched together, his eyes narrowed behind their glasses and his hands barely moved from their clasped position. He, Yao and Matthew had discussed about this potential problem. Fates, he'd even spoke to Ludwig of all people about it. But to think it was that bad...
What could he possibly do?
Okay, the easiest solution in the world instantly popped in his mind and that was to call Yao. A disastrous idea would to be to punish all of them, but that's what Alfred would do as a hero. Apparently the divide between Inner Circle and holding facilities was deeper than he anticipated. That means he'd have to ask someone to help him respond instead...
Thankfully, Sir Mark hadn't asked him to deliver him to the Drawing Room after their date. It would have been exceedingly awkward to go inside and wait for the answer that they were all waiting for. Duh, Alfred knew what to say, but he didn't know how to say it.
That was how he found himself asking Yao during dinner about how to respond appropriately. Surprisingly, the dinner table was as lively as ever, like the argument never happened, though when Alfred's gaze drifted across to the people in the video there was tension in their tight lipped expressions and unfocused eyes. Arthur in particular looked particularly quiet, speaking only to his companions, which made Alfred worry even more.
Every heroic bone in his body made him want to go over to Arthur and comfort him, though in public it was probably a bad idea. He'd already made the guy get into a bunch of trouble, anyway...
"Well, I think it would be best if you spoke to them tonight, actually," Yao said in response to his question, causing him to pull his gaze away from the Chosen. Probably a good idea too. "In the Drawing Room, where everyone can hear. I trust, Alfred, you know what to speak about?"
"Yeah, mmf, I have a rough idea," Alfred said through bites of his pheasant which had just arrived, though he quickly put down his fork and wiped at his mouth when Yao gave him a piercing look. At least he wasn't speaking as loudly as he usually did, and the cameras knew to give them some privacy tonight. "At least, tell them that the Chosen from the holding facilities are right, that there's no difference, and stuff."
"Something like that," Yao said, Matthew nodding along. The three of them ate in silence for a moment, before Matthew piped up. "Actually, maybe you shouldn't put it that bluntly, like that's the only thing you know what to do?"
"Huh? Aw, Matt, you don't have to be so mean," Alfred sang, taking another bite. "Though, any ideas, bro?"
Matthew grimaced, taking a sip of his water before continuing. "Don't be so blunt like you usually are," he said, "It might even cause the others to harass the holding facility candidates even further. Let's start with the problems one by one, yes? First, the accusation that Sir Arthur's date was fabricated. From the video, was he lying?"
"Nah, not at all."
"Then say it, simply, that he didn't," Matthew said. "After that, I guess you could say that the two of you prefer your privacy."
Yao placed down his wineglass and nodded. "Dates are meant to be private, correct? The Chosen share the details of their dates all the time, but not everyone is comfortable with it. Say something along those lines, and how you appreciate your own privacy from time to time."
"Okay, got it," Alfred said after mulling the idea over in his head. "So, uh, how do we prevent this sorta stuff happening again in the future?"
Matthew and Yao exchanged a glance. "It's not simple, as we discussed previously," Yao said. "These prejudices aren't able to be solved overnight, they've been here almost since the advent of the holding facilities. Of course, we know that the Spades Fate places the Mark only on those that the royal loves, but there's no way to prove that their choice was not influenced by their previous social ranking."
"No way to disprove it either."
"Yes, well..." Matthew took a bite of his potatoes. "Even though the prejudices have lessened, as we've noticed, they're still there. So you must be careful when it comes to these things, Alfred. To save anyone from being singled out, you should speak privately."
He nodded, acknowledging their comments, but from the crease inbetween his eyebrows and the way he ate his dinner uncharacteristically silent it was clear he was thinking of something. Both members of the Primary Suit knew it was best to leave him with his thoughts in that state, so dinner proceeded without another hitch.
That is, until every plate was cleared.
Alfred stood up, the mere action commanding attention from every person in the room. For a moment, Yao could truly see the boy king that he knew he was destined to be - the strongest, most charismatic person in every room.
"Everyone, in lieu of the Broadcast on Sunday, I'd love to speak to you all individually in your rooms," he said, his voice projecting itself with ease. "I understand that everyone's pretty nervous about it, so I want to help with alleviating your fears. I'll be popping in over the next three days to speak with you all, if that's all right? If you're not available at that time, I'll simply come back later."
At the murmurings of comprehension, Alfred smiled. "Thank you, everyone. With that, may I ask a request of you all?"
The simple sentence brightened up the room, where a loud chorus of 'Yes!' and 'of course' punctuated as if they were pops of a fireplace. It served to make his smile brighter.
"Is it okay if I come with you guys to the Drawing Room tonight? I'd like to see how it is in there."
reviews, favourites and follows are what will keep me writing, so please go ahead and leave them!