"Draw back yourself, like this," Vash angled his broad shoulders backwards, causing Alfred's tense form to relax. "Yes, that's better. Do you want to have another go, or – oh, Yao, good morning."

It was the morning after the week long Meeting had concluded, and that meant life was going to start returning to normal. He and Ludwig had talked the entire night after Feliciano had fallen on his husband's shoulder, meaning that he was wiped out Obviously, for Jack Vash, who had spent his entire life in the military, that wasn't a good enough excuse for him to forgo one last sparring session with him.

"Is it time to go already?" Alfred asked, picking at the strap of his suspenders. He didn't want to put on another constricting suit, because he was sure his poor sore shoulders would complain almost as much as he did, but it came with the job. "Man, those two hours sure passed real fast."

Vash looked mournful as he placed the borrowed lance down on the floor, scooping up Alfred's sword in the process. "Yes, that was brief. But I had fun, Alfred. Thank you for agreeing to spar. Surprisingly, you're still keeping up."

"Y'know, with Yao's super good swordsmanship, I'm still learning a lot. I'll disarm you the next summer solstice," he grinned in response, giving the Jack a thumbs up. "What's up?"

"It's just time to leave, that's all," Yao said, bowing to his fellow Jack before facing Alfred once again, whispering in his ear. "I believe you have quite the enraptured audience up in the balcony."

Casting his gaze upwards, he found that indeed all the Chosen were watching, bug eyed, at the two of them sparring. Drawing back his arm into a ninety degree pose, he flexed his arm, throwing his other hand over his bicep and giving them a silly grin.

"What does that idiot think he's doing?" Arthur muttered amidst the giggles of his fellow Chosen. Emma, bless her, had been awake since eight in the morning and been watching them spar. He and Leon, on the other hand, had woken up an hour later and staggered out to the balcony at the back of the palace to watch.

Alfonso leaned further out the railings, shooting his companion a knowing grin. "C'mon, Arthur, you have to admit that it's a little cute at least," he said, tilting his head in the direction of the now waving Alfred. "Most of us are pretty in love with him, so it's fine if you are, too."

"You say that as if it's easy," he retorted, but didn't exactly deny the charge. After the party, he couldn't help but feel as if he'd gotten closer to Alfonso. If he had to thank the people who had taunted them that night, it would be for that and a convenient excuse to avoid the Drawing Room after dinner.

"Ehh. It's pretty easy to say he's cute – aww, they're going back inside. He really looks good in that suspender shirt combo. Brown suits him."

"Not as much as blue, I don't think," Arthur mumbled. Hopefully, Alfonso wouldn't catch the remark as everyone was simultaneously complaining about Alfred's disappearance.

Unfortunately for him, he had heard. "I mean, it would kind of be weird for the Prince of Spades to not look in his own country's colours, no? Huh? Yeah, I heard you, Arthur, there's no need to blush about it."

"I'm not," He folded his arms. "Honestly, there's no need to be so abrasive about it. There's no way I'd ever admit to something as idiotic like caring about whether or not he looks good in his country's colours. There's no need to make such pointless conversation."

The words were abrasive, but half to his dismay, half to his surprise, Alfonso didn't look too upset. "Pff, okay," he said, merely shrugging his shoulders. "Makes sense to me."

A silence – not tension filled or awkward, which was a first for a long while – lingered between them until someone called for all the Chosen to return to their rooms to take breakfast.

"Dear Arthur,

I hope this letter finds you well. Being the last week of spring until summer, everyone's been restless here in the Hearts palace. It seems as if every day, people are going out of their rooms and outside just to study, instead of doing so inside. Terrifying, isn't it? Sophia and Toris sometimes stay inside with me, but mostly I like staying in my room to study like we used to."

"Arthur," Leon said, poking his head through the door, "The royals are about to leave, wanna come down to the foyer?"

"Yes, I'll be," he shook the pink envelope that Anna had delivered that morning, which got the message across, "Down in just a second. Meet you there?"

"Sure."

"Speaking of studying, how are your independent studies going? Getting in the way of interacting with the prince? I doubt it, though, from what the Broadcast has had to offer. Actually, just a few hours ago when we were all relaxing in the leisure room, they showed the party. By the amount of times I spotted you standing alone or sitting down on a bench reassured me that you haven't changed much, which is a good thing."

"Kiku, there's no need for you to be so blunt..." he grumbled, but couldn't hide his relief that his best friend still sounded upbeat after everything that had happened. Holding the letter in one hand, he started to adjust his shoes. It wouldn't be good to be late, especially not in front of all the royals.

Yet, at the same time...Arthur stopped his pacing to peer at his reflection in the mirror. Indeed as Alfonso had so helpfully pointed out, pink still lingered in the bridge of his nose and his cheeks. Reaching out gingerly to touch them, the night of the ball flooded back. Coupled with the memory of Alfred swinging a sword around like it weighed nothing, Arthur realised he'd never said the word. What would have happened if he did, and it was captured on national television? What would Kiku have said? What would everyone else have said?

"I hope that you will be able to begin formal studies soon. Jack Yao has a reputation even here as both a scholar and a war tactician – I daresay that I am envious of the fact that you'll be personally receiving tutelage from him, but you've always done well in our lessons, so I know you won't need to be the nervous wreck you probably are now.

Regardless, I'm sure you're incredibly busy! I'm sorry that I do not really have any news to share, but compared to your process, this Deciding is rather dull, as we are just waiting around for the Fates to decide our futures. So I will not bother you for longer, but I do hope you write back soon to let me know how you are doing.

Best regards,

Kiku."

"You have to promise us to keep in touch, okay, Alfred? Be well," Feliciano brushed back a bit of Alfred's fringe away from his eyes and gave him a big hug. "Don't forget, you can talk to Ludi and me about anything. Anything." Though his expression was mischievous, it still flooded his heart with warmth. "Ciao~! I'll see you during the summer, okay? Ludi, can we bring our dogs?"

"We'll discuss that in the carriage, Feli," came the slightly embarrassed reply. Alfred barely fended off a laugh before he came to hug his best friend tightly. "Alfred, you're doing well. Honestly. Don't...don't look too harshly on yourself. All right?"

"I dunno-" he was about to deny it, but the severe look from him reminded him it was pretty much pointless to lie to someone who had known him best for a over a decade now. "...Okay. I'll try my hardest."

"Good," Ludwig said, but he didn't let go of him immediately, which meant more than Alfred could ever say. In front of the Chosen, in front of all the royals in Cards, maybe even with himself. Something else was wrong, though, the moment Ludwig put his mouth against his ear and started whispering rapidly. "If you need any help, with anything at all, including your advisorship, you have our support behind you. Just let us know."

Taking deep breaths as they pulled away, he squeezed his hand one last time, trying his best to focus on his breathing and fight away the moisture stinging at his eyes. Knowing it was a problem he and he alone had to fix, but still having his support meant something else, especially since Ludwig was a king and Alfred himself was pretty much worthless in terms of governing.

"Please continue writing to me about the Deciding, Alfred!" Lili was the next to say goodbye, giving his waist a big squeeze. Her smile, coupled with the fishtail knots sitting behind her ears – Francis probably tied them for her – made him relax. "Papa and Vash says you've been working hard and things, so I know you are."

"I hope so, Lili," he replied, patting her head. "Work hard and study hard, all right?"

"When did you grow up to become so wise?" Francis remarked after she had skipped off to stand behind Vash. "Telling her to study. Are you trying to tell her to not follow your excellent example?"

At the face Alfred made, the King of Diamonds simply laughed, waving his hand. "Joking, joking. Take care, Alfred. If there is anything we can do to assist, do let us know."

Another thinly veiled line of support, only reinforced by Vash's handshake and stout nod. Had the issue of the advisorship on Spades soil grown so obvious that even the other kingdoms had taken note? Forcing himself to swallow the choked noise in his throat, the three Spades royals and Katya finished saying their goodbyes, leaving Alfred to his next duty.

Once Matthew left with the Diamonds to the train station, and Yao with the Clubs to the royal port, after a late lunch he addressed the Chosen.

"I hope everyone enjoyed the festivities this week as a breather from the Deciding process," he said. Arthur noted his smile was a tad bit forced compared to his usual, and certainly more strained than the one in the gazebo. At assurances around the room, he spoke easily over the din. "However, we have to get back into the swing of things starting today, and,"

"Oh, no," someone whispered behind him, but for the life of him he couldn't comprehend what could be so worrying. He was probably going to announce more dates, or an updated schedule. Or even something about having to eat breakfast in the dining hall now the Meeting was over. "He's not-"

"After much careful consideration with my advisorship and my Ace and Jack, we decided that we would be reconsidering the amount of people remaining in the Deciding going forward. As it is, the party was an ample opportunity to identify how everyone did in social situations with and without my presence."

"We weren't told this," a girl cried at the same time the thought passed over Arthur's mind, her accent sounding like it had never really left the rural valleys of Diamonds. This, of course, garnered some titters.

"If you were told, we were concerned everyone's behaviours would be affected as a result," Alfred, having heard it, thought it important to address it immediately. "So it was the best thing to keep it unannounced. Everyone did quite well in terms of dancing and etiquette, leaving it so that the issues with their continued stay here in the palace would be because of different reasons."

As the tension in the room continued to rise, he continued speaking without betraying any sort of nervousness or reluctance. "As a result, I would like everyone to return to their rooms for now. I will be summoning eight members of the Chosen in an hour to come speak with me in my office."

The number spread around the room like wildfire. Eight? That was a massive number, one of the largest eliminations so far. Then again, there hadn't been an opportunity until the ball to have everyone evaluated at the same time and the same place. Nerves were running high, judging by how everyone quickly filed into their rooms. The chat had subsided into whispers and hushed words, and worst yet Arthur felt more than one gaze lock onto him as he ducked into the boys' floor and into his room.

It was all right. Alfred wouldn't lie to him just to get something from him. The prince may be confident, overly cocky, a dense airhead and clueless, but he wouldn't lie to him about something as important as that.

Right?

Pushing away the taunting self doubt in his mind, Arthur decided to start writing his letter to Kiku. He didn't have to fully trust the process, but he could try harder to trust Alfred.

The large emerald sails of the Clubs royal fleet had arrived once the horse drawn carriage had stopped in the fenced off area. People were already standing behind the bars, peering for a rare sight of the Clubs royals in Spades during peacetime.

It was to be expected, after all. They had been bitter rivals until just after the last Great War, where the destruction of lives and historical relics had been so massive that all Four Kingdoms had taken up arms as one collective to destroy the malicious Joker. Afterwards, the relations between the two kingdoms had benefitted greatly under Katya's supervision after hers and Ivan's uncle had died, and the old monarchs had been replaced with the new, meaning there was no longer any need for enmity. Not to mention the papers gushing constantly about how all the royals from Clubs and Spades got on. Mostly.

The carriage ride had been quiet. Very quiet, at least, near the end. Elizabeta, bless her, probably knew better than to allow Yao and Ivan into the same carriage and sat with her king, whilst Yao and Roderich had gotten into another one together. There was some light chat about policy, but he didn't blame his fellow Jack for diverting away to another topic, seeing as they'd spent the entire week talking politics. After Roderich requesting as much information about the Spades advisorship, they'd been content to spend the carriage ride in comfortable silence.

Turning out his hand, Yao slipped a note into Ivan's exquisitely lined pocket, careful to quickly move onto Elizabeta and say his goodbyes. The wind whipped at their faces, carrying the scent of early summer as they shook hands and smiled for the cameras. He could hold it together. Roderich, now, was shaking his hands, and moving away. The three of them were retreating back into the grand Clubs ship, leaving him alone on the port.

"Safe trip, Your Highnesses," he called, waving once. "Please notify us when you are all home."

Elizabeta turned back just before she was swallowed by the ship, giving him a thumbs up before walking inside, taking Roderich's hand. Ivan was unfolding the note now, green gloves shaking in the wind as he did so. The white piece of paper felt so much larger in his hands than it had when Yao was writing it. Not even bothering to walk inside before he read it, his violet eyes read those eight words over and over until his head jerked backwards, staring at Yao. Pleadingly, like a waif's, just like the terrified child he'd seen since their first meeting.

Thankfully, Elizabeta's hand reached out and touched his forearm, probably asking him what was wrong. She, too, peered at the note before Roderich came back, probably wondering what the hold up was. Yao swallowed audibly, turning his head away, hoping the Queen and the Jack would forgive him. Shame creeped up further in his stomach when he saw Elizabeta look at him, her expression a mix of pity and disappointment. She was right, though. The two of them should know better. He should know better.

"Thank you for your hospitality, we'll see each other again soon!" she cried from the top of the ship, but he didn't miss how tightly her grip was on Ivan's arm.

Yao shouted back. "Not at all, we hope for you all to attend the summer solstice festivities," then hoped to leave it at that. It would have been all right if it weren't for Ivan desperately waving the note, with his own words written in careful calligraphy, back at him. He was nodding feverishly, not knowing that it plunged the dagger of Yao's creation back into his own heart.

"I believe you all understand the reasons for your eliminations." The sunset had started to fall on Spades by the time Alfred had managed to gather all eight of the Chosen he'd sought out. After reviewing the footage with Matthew and Carlos, there had been different reasons for multiple groups. The first member had been captured disrespecting the servants on shift that night, two people had kept to themselves and had barely participated in a dance except the one with Alfred, another had spoke inappropriately in the presence of a royal. That left the last four, who he had taken notice of that were harassing holding facility candidates, even on a night where all the cameras in the palace were filming a party meant to bring happiness to the entirety of Cards.

The first four were easy enough to speak to; they'd been accepting of their fate and the fact that no amount of speech was enough to change the prince's mind. The others on the other hand, were...adamant.

"Is it certain that the footage circulated was legitimate? Could the footage have been manipulated?"

"Sir Ian, there is no mistake. Not to mention that you and your friendship group have been recorded in engaging in malicious behaviour these few weeks. My fellow royals, my advisorship and I especially were hoping that this would be corrected, but it does not seem to be the case."

"But, Your Highness, you must understand – eliminating so many people of superior rank and breeding would look poor on your part. Please, give yourself a chance to reconsider-"

Unable to hold back his frustration, he slammed his palms on the large desk of his study. "My decision is final. All eight of you are to leave the palace this afternoon. Not only have your unfounded prejudices against those having the opportunity to live in a holding facility harmed them, but also I will not let someone with those wrong views govern Spades by my side. There is no amount of futile reason that will allow me to turn a blind eye to your behaviours. Please go to your rooms and pack your bags. Immediately. I must once again remind you that you are not allowed to disclose the circumstances of your elimination to anyone, as you would be breaking the non-disclosure agreement you all signed when entering the palace."

Once they all filed out, Alfred maintaining an unflinching look at all of them as they did so, he collapsed into his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. He hadn't meant to yell, but the fact that they thought they could force his hand, change his mind reminded him of the advisorship, frighteningly enough. Except of the fact that the Deciding was one of the few things he could wrest control over.

Still, at the same time. Twelve was a lot scarier than twenty. First, it would mean that they'd start receiving formal lessons about the inner workings of the palace, meaning they'd start to learn to pick up some workload. Second, he could spend much more one on one time with each candidate, which meant planning dates that were both meaningful on a personal and nationwide level. Third, looming closer and closer, were the advisorship's pressure. The closer he got to ending the process, the more heat he'd be taking.

Despite how he really hated how stiff and formal his speech was when dealing with serious matters, he sincerely doubted his resolve would have held so strong had he used his preferred tone. The ending of his Deciding, and therefore the path to Spades's recovery, was nearer than ever. It would all click in place, at the end. He'd be a hero in his own small way, having protected Spades long enough for them to complete their Primary Suit and fight against the slow corruption of his advisorship. He had to keep that goal, and that one alone, fresh in his mind. Come what may, he had to face it largely alone – anything, any way else would be viewed as weak. And Alfred was tired of viewing himself as weak.

Taking a deep breath, he reached into his desk for his schedule book and flicked it open to the second week of June. A life of a beleaguered prince never slowed down, not even for when his dog came into the room and started chewing at his shoe.