Arthur laid his head on Alfred's shoulder, holding his breath. Alfred wasn't looking at him as usual, happy to take in whatever happened at that moment, but that was all right. They were all right, just for now. After their dance, they had parted briefly, but Alfred had gently taken his wrist at the back of the ballroom and pulled him outside to the gardens.
Since the party had been winding down for a few hours now, the preluding lights of the palace suddenly felt comforting, so much more different than the foreign sight they had been to Arthur all those months ago. Even the pitter patter of the rain had morphed when he was by Alfred's side – it had grown into something else, becoming a symphony of silent adoration, music for their ears to enjoy only.
"Maybe you shouldn't go to sleep just yet," Arthur said quietly, not daring to move his body as he shifted his gaze away from Alfred to his lap.
"It's been a long day, hasn't it?" Alfred's fingers turned to fiddle with his mask, but his eyes were all for Arthur. Only in these moments did he dare to look at the person who he'd never thought could exist for him, his green eyes obscured by the messiness of his hair.
Dare he tell Arthur of his conversation he'd had with Yao? Of their future together he'd started to let himself dream of? At first, he'd thought the other boy would definitely run, but with the kiss in the ballroom, in front of the world…Alfred wanted to allow himself to hope.
As he spoke again, his mouth opened much slower. "For both you and me. And maybe it would be kinda hard to outrun the crowds."
"Yes, well…" Arthur's voice hitched, low and reedy from the speaking and the dancing and the exhilaration of finally being able to kiss him in public. Just then, he tilted his chin up, meeting Alfred's gaze. Slightly embarrassed at being caught, Alfred turned away, running a calloused thumb over the hook of the mask's nose, but Arthur's hands on his lap made him stop.
"I don't think either of us can sleep, regardless."
Releasing a breath he hadn't known he had been holding, Alfred nodded once. He let the heat from his cheeks flood into the rest of his system as the sound of Arthur's socks on the ground accompanied the echo of his loud breathing, mirroring the desperation in his heart. "It won't be a good thing if we stay too long out here – who knows if or when we'll get caught, I guess."
"Perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad thing, after all of that display in the ballroom." Taking a deep breath, he faced him. "Let them come, Alfred," he said, letting his lopsided smirk accompany his teasing words, "Let them come."
"Huh? I didn't know you were so bold all of a sudden," Alfred moved forward, resting his head on Arthur's shoulder. When he noticed Arthur didn't move away or shift uncomfortably, he allowed himself to continue to speak, "The pirate ship really did amazing things, huh. Maybe we should go back and ask Mr Abel and Mr Dirga if they'd let me have a turn on it?"
"Wonder if they're still in the port."
"Maybe. Actually, I'm not sure if Em's told you this, but did you know Mr Abel's actually her older brother?"
The flash of surprise in Arthur's eyes preceded his answer. "I was aware she had two brothers, but not that one of them was Mr Abel. Is that why he hung back from the cameras?"
"Pff, yeah. Money's money, after all and I don't think he was doing it to be mean." Stretching his toes, he exhaled after he finished speaking, taking in the splendour of the evening.
"Still, I'm thankful you did it all the same," Arthur admitted. "Though, I think it would be best if we kept it a secret between us."
"It does sound like a good idea, yeah. Is it some kinda trade?"
"Hm? Trade? What do you mean by that?"
"You gave up a secret about this," Alfred pushed himself upright, placing a gloved finger on his chapped lips, unable to hold back a grin when he noticed Arthur's cheeks pink in response, "Then to have a secret to replace that one right after…you sure do work fast, Artie."
"It's Arthur, not Artie."
"Okay, Artie. Hey…there's no need to glare like that! You like my cutesy pet names – oww, pinching me is super mean of you!"
"It's just your cheek, and I don't know what else would shut you up, idiot," Arthur huffed – Alfred's cheek was so soft…not like he'd ever think about that or anything. "Listen, you may reserve your plethora of pet names for others."
"Artie would sound weird if I called anyone else that."
"That's not what I meant – oh, bugger it all," After he'd pondered Alfred's point over, he collapsed in an uncharacteristic sulk – though Alfred still found it terribly cute. "I'd like you to keep it to a minimum," he emphasized it with a lean forward. "Especially in public."
"But we're not in public right now, are we?" Alfred said in a sing song voice. "I dunno, I feel like we've had enough of our share tonight for the both of us. So, do you mean it's all right for me to call you Artie as much as I want, right?"
"That's not what I…that's not what I said," came the reply, but it was hesitant as Alfred leaned forward, connecting their gazes together. "Don't – don't look here, idiot!"
"How can I when you're like this? I like looking at you," he insisted, shifting closer to him so that their sides touched, "You're really handsome, did you know that?"
Arthur tried to give him the most unimpressed glance he could muster, but from the way Alfred's expression lit up even more, it did not look nearly as deadpan as he'd wanted to.
Yes, he knew he looked rather dashing if he did put the effort in, but to have it come from Alfred meant something else entirely compared to when he was giving himself a pat on the back in the mirror.
"See? You definitely agree with me!"
"I…I didn't say…it's different when you say it," Arthur muttered under his breath, yet once again, Alfred's beam found it incredibly difficult to muster up any sort of true anger.
"I mean, that's cool and all, but…" In an instant, the atmosphere mellowed out – where Alfred's fingers had been tapping along the surface of the garden floor had now shifted to rest on top of Arthur's knee, his lips staying parted for another moment longer than it needed to be. "We've said a lot of things tonight without using words."
Daringly, Arthur's slender fingers found themselves again in the collar of Alfred's blue shirt, the intimacy slight yet comforting at the same time. "I suppose you're right." Smirking once more, he worked his other hand into his collar, gripping onto it and pulling him close, flush against his chest. "Would I be incorrect in presuming that you'd want to conduct one of those wordless conversations once more?"
With an expression like that, not to mention those rebellious words, how could Alfred do anything except kiss him?
Arthur had shot himself in the foot, he realised as soon as he returned to his room at two in the morning to a made bedroom and a note from Anna. Kiku still wanted to enjoy the Spades palace a little longer, so he and Arthur had parted ways for the day, with a promise to spend one last day together before he left tomorrow.
"Dear Sir Arthur,
Hopefully you're doing okay – word gets around fast in the palace, congratulations. I know you'll probably be awake until very late, so I'll get my rest early tomorrow, but I hope you'll definitely be up to chat about the proceedings of tonight…or else. No tidy room for the next week!
Just kidding. Have a good night! From Anna.
P.S: Thank you for helping in my sister's work – I'll ask you for more help if I need it."
Folding the note carefully and placing it between his notebook on his desk, Arthur went through the basic motions of the ending of his day, yet something was different. Everything, from his light blue bath towel that hung neatly from his rack to the night sky peeking out at him as he came out of his shower reminded him of the evening he had just had.
Other than the obvious stupid blue colour – which was plastered all over the palace, meaning that wherever he went he'd be utterly distracted by his memories of Alfred. Stupid…stupid distracting prince who couldn't seem to keep to himself and didn't understand what the ramifications of having a relationship with Arthur would entail.
A tiny voice in the back of Arthur's head nagged at him. Why would he want him? Arthur Kirkland was a nobody. Though he had a loving family, loving families usually meant nothing in terms of powerful marriages. He had been educated in a holding facility – even if that was a step up from public schools in terms of education pertaining to the upper class and the Deciding, that still wouldn't measure up to those having actually been raised in the Inner Circle. Even then, with Alfred's search for a bride having been confirmed to be the same year as the start of Arthur's eligibility, his graduating class had been much larger than previous years, meaning that his odds of entering the palace in the first place had been astronomical. It did not feel real to him at all.
Yet…that dance they shared together had been real. Those kisses they'd shared, both private and public, were real, their ghosts running rivulets along Arthur's lips as he clambered into bed, not paying attention to how the covers fell against his legs or much else. The courtship he was sharing with the prince of Spades, soon to be the King of Spades, was real.
Usually, Arthur would have run for the hills at the prospect of any unwanted attention – which was, for him, any sort of attention. It was guaranteed that becoming the, dare he say it, the Queen of Spades would give him a terrifying amount of tension.
Then again, Arthur thought to himself as he reached over his bedside table to flick the lights off, I'm a Kirkland. And we know how to survive, despite everything. So how foolish would it be of me to give up on something I desire just because of a little fear?
It'll only take some, after all, if he does choose me. In the meantime, I'll prove myself countless times to not only be worthy of being at his side as a queen, but as his…
Before Arthur could finish that treacherous thought, however, he was fast asleep.
Matthew woke up with a crease on his cheek, a dry cavern for a mouth, and a strange pounding in his chest.
It hadn't been alcohol, since he had an average tolerance, and had only shared one flute of champagne with Francis and Vash last night as they were speaking. The crease was from his pillow where he'd slept oddly, owing to the fact that he had been chatting with Gilbert for hours after twelve, and 'chatting' with him just outside of the Joker's temporary bedroom before the two of them had reluctantly gone to bed. No funny business – though their relationship was, for lack of a better word, forbidden, they knew enough to respect at least one boundary. No chance for children. Given the fact that they were men, it normally wouldn't have mattered, but it was in a Joker's nature to be unpredictable, so it wouldn't be worth the risk.
Still, Matthew sleepily thought to himself as he heaved himself out of bed, the pounding in his chest not dissipating yet, with the way things are right now, I'm content.
Perhaps the pounding would stop when he gulped down his previous night's cup of cold coffee, the sensation chilling his body into waking up but still sweet all the same, thanks to the maple syrup.
It did not.
Well, that was unfortunate, he thought to himself, opening the door slightly to see if there was someone nearby he could ask to fetch his maid.
There was no one.
Matthew, at this point, still didn't suspect anything. The entire palace was most likely partied out, as the noises of the celebration were still able to muffle his and Gilbert's 'talking' when they were up in the first floor, which was around three in the morning. He had seen plenty of guards and maids in their casual wear around the party, too, so nothing was amiss.
Taking a shower, combing his hair, brushing his teeth and getting dressed was a normal part of Matthew's routine, but something about it felt…off. But why would it? The Spades Primary Suit had a triumph last night with how the festivities had gone, Alfred had achieved a great success, and Arthur had finally played his hand to the rest of the world, and he and Gilbert had gotten to hold each other once more without being caught. By all accounts, it was an excellent night.
As Matthew buttoned his lavender polo to rest just underneath the dip of his collarbones, he'd usually listen out for the sounds of the palace coming back to life. Footsteps bustling, chatter going around, cutlery being passed from one corner of the palace to another.
Only silence followed his expectant thoughts.
By now, the sun was rising, its weak rays stretching languidly over the rooftops of the Spades palace, and Matthew still felt uneasy. What was it? What sort of fear couldn't be settled by an Ace's morning routine? He even got back into his old hobby of shaking his legs as he sat by his dresser, not sure how to proceed with the day.
Matthew started a mental checklist of any possible things that could have gone wrong. First, his face, sleep creases gone, retained no evidence that he had had his hands curling into the pockets of Gilbert's pants, relearning every corner of his face with his hungry eyes and warm mouth.
If someone had started a diplomacy argument – perhaps Ivan and Alfred arguing after he had went to bed – Matthew would have almost certainly been called if Yao couldn't solve it.
Perhaps it was that, then? Maybe that was why – and it gave him a point of seeking answers. Adjusting his pants, Matthew got out of his chair, careful to flick the lights back off as he comfortably made his way to Yao's study. That must be it. When he got his answers, rolled his eyes and the two of them laughed together about the entire situation, everything would be fine.
However, the moment he knocked on Yao's door, an exasperated mentor was not the one he was – rather, the sight of panic was mirrored in his brown eyes.
"Oh, thank the Fates you're awake, Matthew," he seemed as if he were a rush to get out the words, pulling him into the office and hastily shutting the door.
Matthew only had a split second to process Alfred sitting on the couch, his head dithering, and Aileen standing stonily next to the door before Yao spoke.
"Matthew," his tone was fast and panicked, matching the his heartbeat, "Sir Leon and Officer Steillson were discovered by some guards in an embrace doing the rounds last night. Miss Aileen and I have to make a statement to the press, could you stay with Alfred for now? I'll be with Katya in a moment."
"Your Highness, let's go," she said, barely giving the people in the room a look as she opened the door once more, "We must correct this first before it gets out of hand."
With that, they whisked past him, leaving Matthew standing shell shocked in the middle of Yao's study.
Matthew couldn't speak. He simply couldn't. Sir Leon and Officer Steillson? But that was against the rules of the Deciding…and Officer Steillson had been such a friend to the four of them, that they had known each other for years now. That was unfathomable. There had been no indication that an affair was happening right under their nose. It did not seem real at all.
Yet, as Matthew crossed the room to where Alfred was curling in on himself, another thought jolted in his mind. An affair. It hit far too close to home. If they had forgotten to surround themselves with other people so their time spent together wouldn't look suspicious…
…It could have been them. And if they hadn't come under the wrath of the advisorship, they would almost certainly receive no sympathy from the other royals, who would have been horrified.
But thank the Fates, they were safe for now. So it laid upon Matthew's lap to comfort his obviously distraught brother.
"Alfred," Matthew said, his voice wavering as he spoke, holding out his arms for his twin to collapse into, which he did. Then came the gasping, heaving tears – Alfred was no quiet crier, never had been, much different than him. What could he say? "Alfred. You're safe with me and Yao now."
"They're trying to get to me," Alfred wept into his brother's chest, "T-They did it on purpose, they could have chosen another way, they-"
"You…" Matthew gently helped the two of them to the sofa in his bedroom, rocking him back and forth, "You don't need to say anything."
"Where's…where's…" Scrambling for breath, Alfred's legs tightened on top of the sofa, clenching so tight on in himself that it seemed painful, "Where's Yao? Is he supervising everyone to go home?"
"I don't know. Katya was helping, but…" Matthew trailed off – he needed answers. "Al – what happened?!"
"She's not here anymore, right? Is she? Aileen, I mean," Alfred was heaving between words now, his knuckles turning white as he gripped Matthew's arms. "She's not-"
"Al, we're alone. You're okay."
"I knew that they were together," he said. "I was going to let him go after the summer solstice – Fates, I told Leon to be careful, I didn't think…"
"Where are they now?"
"They're being kept in the outer courtyard. I think they've-" Alfred hiccupped in the middle of the words, betraying just how long he'd been crying even with the others in the room, "I think they've been beat, both of them. There's no way they wouldn't."
Absorbing this information, Matthew took a deep breath. "Did any of the guards tell you exactly where they saw them?"
"The advisorship said it was the first floor, corridor to the right."
"Oh," he said.
Had he and Gilbert turned to a right corridor last night, perhaps the same group of guards would have caught them instead. It could have been himself.
It could have been Gilbert, preparing to suffer at the hands of whatever horrible punishment the advisorship were preparing for them.
Yet there was something at the back of his mind, nagging Matthew from where he sat. Alfred's sniffling had grown quieter now, his grip unfaltering. "Did any of the guards personally come to you to tell you what happened?"
"No…no."
"Then who did?"
"It was the advisorship, they…they-"
"The advisorship?" Matthew adjusted his glasses, not caring about the tear stains in his shirt. "They were the ones to tell you the news?"
"Y-Yeah. They even had footage on the cameras so we couldn't deal with this quietly-"
"That doesn't make sense. Why would they do that? It's clearly to benefit you, but when have they cared? Did they name any of the guards who saw them?"
At Alfred's despairing shake of a head, once again Matthew struggled to piece the information together. Sir Leon and Emil were together, that was for sure, but to have the advisorship jump in like this was certainly odd. It wasn't as if they could take this situation out of their hands now either, as the Primary Suit would look terrible with trying to wrest control from the governing body that was meant to help them with governing. Which left…
"Al, there has to be a reason the guards haven't spoken personally to you yet – with how you get along with them, it doesn't make sense. Not to mention Berwald and Matthias would definitely let you know first." Straightening his twin's shoulders, he made sure Alfred was sitting on his own again before continuing to speak. "Maybe…maybe the guards didn't have a hand in this?"
"What?"
Before Matthew could elaborate on his tiny hunch, Yao opened the door, and that had to put an end to their conversation.
Once Arthur and the rest of the Chosen had been hastily escorted into the courtyard of the palace, clad in nothing but black and questions, a most visible commotion had already broken out. The sun hadn't fully risen, still leaving a formidable portion of the Spades palace cloaked in the feeble dark of the twilight lingering on the clearly makeshift stage that had been set up. A crowd was gathered in front of it, and even from the distance the Chosen were standing it was clear something serious had occurred, from the feverish talk. Cameras were positioned in the side close to where they were, and a small team of cameramen were handling them – Arthur had gotten used to the sight, and simply paid them no mind. At the same time, however, there were no smiles on their faces.
Jack Vash was thrusting a finger into the guard's chest, his eyes steely. "I will not have Queen Lili and Princess Vienne and Elly watch whatever barbaric punishment the advisors have panned out for Sir Leon and Officer Steillson. Over my dead body. Eliza, Roderich," he addressed the Clubs couple, "Unless you want to-"
The other Spades Chosen gawked openly as they stood at the back of the queue, but Arthur's entire body seemed to still. He'd asked Emma and Sakura whether they'd seen his closest friend, but neither of them knew? A punishment? What for?
"No, you're right," Roderich said stiffly, coming to stand beside the Jack. Kneeling down to his daughters and Lili, he spoke gently over the raucous crowd. "Girls, follow your big sister," he said, gesturing to Lili, "And go back to her room, all right? Don't leave until me or Mama come for you. Promise me."
"Vash, you will be okay, right?" Her blue eyes were troubled as she looked from her knight to the Clubs royals. "Miss Eliza…"
"Yes," Vash said, kneeling down as well. "It's just that no one should ever," he shot an acrid glare to the guard standing beside the royals, "Deserve to see a caning, let alone be part of one."
A caning? Arthur's heart sunk into his stomach. Canings had once been commonplace during the Joker-Ace war, where it had been used as a form of punishment for army recruits? From the morbid books he'd consumed, the process was said to be excruciating
What could Leon have possibly done to invoke such a reaction?
It seemed that Arthur's confusion wasn't special, either.
"What are those things?" Sakura murmured, hugging herself, surveying the contraptions on the makeshift stage.
They looked like that they were made out of wood – nothing that important to the normal eye – but the uncomfortable shape of the first contraption and the second one, clearly looking as if it belonged in a history book, unnerved him.
"Not to mention the metal cuffs on either side of those structures," Kiku sounded even worse than Arthur felt, "…What are those doing there?"
"I don't like this," Emma said, and from the way she lifted her chin she had been hoping to appear strong, but the waver in the last word betrayed her. "Where's Leon?"
Over their conversation, the guard had continued to speak. "It's the advisorship's orders."
"I damn well know you can defy a superior's orders if you don't believe in them!" Vash's snarl had escalated to a shout. "This is beyond barbaric."
"Vash, let's continue this after the girls are safely inside," Eliza said, adjusting Elly's jacket and stilling her shivering shoulders. "Stay with your big sisters, okay? Mama and Papa will be fine."
"I don't want to go…"
"It will be all right, Miss Elly," Lili gave the younger girl a squeeze. "As royalty, sometimes we have to do things we don't want to."
"Lili, thank you for helping us. Vash will come fetch you later as well."
"I'll do my best, Mr Roderich." With a quick bob of her head, she took the sisters, one in each hand, and disappeared in the doors of the palace to safety.
With the children gone, the argument started up again. "You're not expecting everyone to see this."
"It's the advisorship's orders," the guard repeated, clearly sounding exasperated by the way his gloves tightened on his starched uniform, "I'm not a fan of this any more than you are. But it would look wrong for me to defy their orders, and even worse if royals from an opposing kingdom would to defy them. I understand not wanting the girls to see them, but for the sake of appearances this must be done."
"Excuse me," Thomas approached the guard from where he had been talking with Alfonso, "What's going on?"
"Officer Steillson was caught committing a treacherous act with one of your own," the guard swallowed, "Sir Leon. You understand that this is treason."
A strong feeling of dread steeled itself into the pit of Arthur's stomach. Leon? No. There was no way Leon, from all the stories he'd told him about being able to survive alone in that large, lonely house, would do something that rash. There was no way.
"What?"
"The cameras caught him and the officer last night. There's no point in disputing the evidence – your friend broke the law. And now the advisorship have declared it an apt punishment."
"Surely Jack Yao and Ace Matthew did not approve of it?" Jack Roderich said.
"As they are only two, the advisorship's decision prevails." Dipping his head, the guard picked up his weapon, preparing to retreat for the time being.
"There must be more to that," Vash demanded. "You can't – you can't possibly make these kids witness the brutal punishment of their friend."
"There is no more news," his face had closed off already, "Other than the fact that you have all be ordered to witness the punishment."
With that, he left, leaving the entire group to stand there.
"Oh…I'm so sorry," Queen Elizabeta said, surveying everyone's expressions, a mix of blankness and horror and shock. "I'm really sorry, Chosen. Things shouldn't have to be this way."
Murmurs of acknowledgement accompanied the queen's sincere words, but Arthur simply couldn't react, other than murmuring Leon's name under his breath, hoping that somehow it could reach his best friend. He barely noticed his fingers slipping against each other, scrabbling for hold as he did his absolute best to understand the situation – but the moment both Leon and Emil were practically dragged onto the stage, whatever little clarity he had gotten faded into the shadows of the day.
The announcer was on time with his spiel, the purple badge on his lapel gleaming in the sunrise as he bellowed out his prepared speech.
"Members of the Chosen, the Primary Suits, and esteemed guests, we are here to witness a most important punishment that must be inflicted on these two traitors to the institution of the crown, Emil Steillson and the Chosen member Sir Leon! They were captured last night performing a treacherous act of intimacy, and therefore must be punished in turn." The eerie quiet of the crowd didn't help the situation, and a dropped pin could have echoed through the courtyard in that moment.
The words simply wouldn't embed in Arthur's mind. There were only three things stretching and squeezing within his brain – Emil's gauntness as he looked out amongst the crowds, and how he struggled to hold himself upright. The guard had already looked fragile from their interactions; he had no idea how something as cruel as a caning could be even considered. Next to him, Leon's jaw was set, but instead of looking at the crowds, his head was tilting to the right where Emil was. The distance was vast enough that Arthur couldn't see perfectly what was going on, but by the way he had essentially given up his fight, he was saving his energy to ensure he could bear the caning.
The caning. They were going to cane Leon and Emil for the crime of falling in love? Had Leon tried to tell him secretly before with the reveal that he was about to leave the palace? Had the two of them doing their best to keep their secret? Should Arthur have done more to help the two of them? He was probably in the gardens sitting with Alfred when they were caught – perhaps if he, Emma and Sakura had been with him, he would have…
"This is one of the most deceitful acts to ever possibly be performed during such a prized custom such as the Deciding – deeply disrupting a beloved tradition with their forbidden relationship together. And in turn, Sir Leon has broken his sacred vow of loyalty to Prince Alfred, repaying his kindness with such a heinous act! An act of treason would be grounds for an execution, yet the prince has opted to show his mercy, allowing only a caning to take place."
At the mention of Alfred's name, Arthur's eyes shot up – and by the Fates he wished he hadn't looked. Alfred looked as if he had been stabbed and left to bleed out – his face was pale, paler than the sunshine on the arching roofs of the palace, and as Arthur's gaze moved lower, his hands were gripping onto his legs so tightly that he looked ready to disintegrate the fabric at any given moment. But why would he react so strongly to a punishment that had been decided by himself?
There was no sense to cling onto in that moment, and Arthur felt himself tumble further into despair, furthered by the reactions around him. Emma and Sakura were holding onto each other for dear life, and Kiku had a hand over his mouth, obviously trying to do his best to remain composed during the entire awful affair, but the tell tale quiver in his best friend's hand on his knee gave everything away. The only people not visibly agitated were the advisors lined up to supervise the event, their bodies remaining perfectly motionless.
Before any of them could react further, however, the worst part was about to commence. Two ceremonial officers, both with visibly pained expressions on their faces, walked in step to retrieve two long rods from someone backstage. Arthur saw Leon's head droop forward, and his chest heave – his blue shirt had been ripped in several places and he was visibly bruised, but perhaps for the sake of appearances, he was still wearing it. The same could not be said of Emil, who looked even worse off as he struggled in his restraints, the sound of metal clanking on wood sickening.
At the same time, Emil was looking elsewhere, and Arthur couldn't help but follow his gaze to where it called out to a group of people standing to the left of the Chosen – Officer Matthias and Berwald, discernible by their gaunt faces. Arthur remembered Alfred telling him that Matthias had essentially adopted him and Berwald was close enough to think of Emil was family – what could possibly be going through their minds at that moment? Emil was so fragile, especially from their positions at the stage, so would they want to take his place on there, if possible?
"To atone for their crimes, both will be receiving fifteen lashes, starting now! One!"
"No!" Matthias shouted, the officer shoving his way to the front of the crowd with Berwald following close by. "Yer – let me go, I can't let them do this to him-"
Arthur was still staring at Matthias and Berwald when the first lash came.
Emil's cry of pain was enough to snatch his attention back. Leon did not move, but the way his eyes shut and his mouth parted in a silent scream told Arthur everything he did not want to know.
"Sakura, don't look," Emma's small sound barely made it through his comprehension – it was all too much to take in. The next two lashes came in quick succession, the fourth finally breaking Leon's composure and resulting in him straining against his chains, face slicked with sweat. Arthur couldn't even imagine the young guard's agony, if Leon couldn't handle it – Emil had been beat up more than he had, and his build seemed less resilient than his friend's.
"Six!" The crowd still hadn't moved, leaving Officer Matthias's pained shouts to pierce the air even further, accompanied by Emil's sobs of agony. As Arthur painfully moved his head, he saw that he was essentially only supported by the wooden frame he was placed on. It seemed that there was no hope.
That is, until Leon raised his head shakily, eyes fighting to stay open. From the distance they were at, he couldn't hear what he was saying – but it was enough to make out from the reaction. Whatever he said to the guard made him visibly take a breath before linking gazes with him – though it was sharply cut off by the eighth stroke, causing his body to violently react to it. Blood splattered along the stage, garnering a few loud gasps and calls of despair.
In the midst of this was Alfred, who hadn't moved a single inch. The purest look of abject horror Arthur had ever seen was festooned onto his face, looking as if he was taking every single lash Leon and Emil were bearing on his own back, his entire body trembling. But hadn't it…hadn't it been him that had condemned them to this punishment? It made no sense – none of this did.
Arthur wasn't so sure, as he felt so rooted to the ground with agony and sickness that he didn't know how to process anything, but a tiny moment of mercy was granted when Emil lost consciousness around stroke eleven. Leon's head seemed fixed to the floor, but when he noticed, he only got more agitated, barely pushed back by the agony of the hits. Once the cruel tail of the lash caught on his cheekbone, causing a scarlet weal to break out on his cheek, he was gone.
By now, the crowd had moved from murmuring unhappily to outright calls of outrage, Arthur feeling people shift around him. At the same time, he was unable to formulate a physical response of his own, feeling everything shut down – there was just Leon, terrifying lashes on his skin, implying future disfiguration, and a seemingly unending stream of blood pooling down his back, turning his blue shirt to a screaming purple.
So much screaming. Crying. Shouting. Calls for the process to end. Arthur lost himself the moment he felt hot tears slide down his cheeks, something that was mirrored in the absolute shock of the Chosen around him. This was not real. Not Leon, who had been smiling so mischievously at him last night, not Emil, who was now slumped with numerous gashes to his body, with no end to his agony.
As soon as the last cry had been issued, the nightmare still hadn't ended.
"You're going home," the advisor that had been standing behind them said without a trace of emotion, gesturing to the other Hearts Chosen, the dull sheen of the horror imposed in their gait as they stood to respond to the voice. "Now. Right now."
"Kiku-" Arthur broke off, trying to sound normal, but it came out like a croak. The advisor was now staring daggers at him, pulling Kiku away by the crook of his elbow.
"What, do you want to end up like that brat Leon? You're not following him anymore! The image of the palace has been tarnished enough today."
He watched as Kiku left with the rest of the Hearts entourage, his usually calm face looking distraught, the horror of that morning etched onto his expression, echoing Arthur's own.