This second chapter shouldn't have taken that long. I almost lost track of writing while also trying to find a balance that firs with this AU and the canon movie.

3 and 4 appear in this movie. The others will show up later on. Can't reveal when. ^_^

More explained on how the stitchpunk kingdoms came to be, albeit it is all over the place. I am in way over my head. I hope chapter two isn't as clumsy as the first.

9 strode through the halls of the castle, his way illuminated by the moon flooding through the lancet windows. The news of the arranged marriage was still on his mind. He had spent the remainder of the day cloistered in his room, wishing it had been a dream. He didn't want to accept it, but it was true. No amount of denial would ever make this situation easier.

His father had turned in for the night. 9 had spent the remainder of the day in his room, seeing no one, only waiting until the arrival of night to finally step out. His first destination: the Royal Gardens. 9 found solace in the garden, thinking it a brief rescue from the confines of studies and protocol. And every time he returned to inside, he found himself yearning to return to the garden.

9 dashed down a staircase, making sure not to make a sound. There were no guards on duty as he quietly snuck about. He reached the bottom step, taking the time to make a quick check to be sure he was indeed alone. Silently, he made a break for the doorway to his left, pacing in a slow but quick stroll. He didn't want to be caught for fear of making a fool of himself.

He saw another doorway to his right. He entered and continued walking down the hall. When he saw the small door to the left, 9 knew he made it. It was a simple iron door easy to open. Coming this way was better than having to go the usual and risk being taken back to his chambers. He opened the door and stepped out. He gazed up at the moonlight.

The garden was teeming with bonsai trees, whose canopies gave enough light to see at night. Bushes and shrubs filled in a space between the trees with curving vines taking up most of the trunks. Flowers stood proud, outshining the vibrant grass. The babbling of a fountain filled the silence; it stood in the west, surrounding by a railing of the same concrete material with a leaf and vine carving in its basin. There were stone benches for sitting, and 9's bench was at the near center of the garden where a certain tree took up most space. 9's stone bench had a sculpture of a mythical animal 2 called a griffon. It was a pleasantry he loved.

9 almost reached his favorite spot when a hand grabbed him behind. Turning around, he expected to see a guard, but much to the prince's surprise, it was 1.

Both looked at each other for a moment before 1 spoke.

"I saw you roaming the halls," he lowered his hand away from 9's shoulder, "I though I'd follow you."

9 looked at him. He didn't have his tall crown on, and that was when he saw had a topknot. Without his cape, he seemed to be more relaxed than he was at the start of the visit. Something about how the moonlight radiated around him made 9 see him in a different aspect. He didn't know what it was, but he was sure was there.

"I," said 9, "I'm sorry to disturb you." He looked away.

"You didn't disturb me," said 1. "I was having a rather restless night."

The zippered stitchpunk looked at him, debating a good answer. Sighing, he turned around, saying, "I just want to be alone."

1, not registering what was bothering him, watched the zippered stitchpunk stroll up to a stone bench. 9 sat down, optics gazing at the ground. This opted 1 to approach him, worried.

"What troubles you, young Prince?," he asked.

9 glanced up at the sound of the title being uttered. He drowned out the stifling feeling and did his damnedest to not appear ungentlemanly.

"..." He slouched, turning away, optics closing. "I just found out...I'm going to be married off to the heir of the South Kingdom."

1's expression changed from that to curious to sympathetic. Arranged marriages were a common tradition, but he could see that the news hit 9 like a stone.

"That's," he said, "unfortunate."

9 glanced up, not saying a word. His surprise blossomed on his face when 1 sat beside him on the bench.

"I wish I didn't have to go through with it," uttered 9, straightening up. He gazed down at the ground, his mind wandering elsewhere.

1 heard about the South Kingdom. It was founded after a war broke out and nearly wiped out all of humanity. Stitchpunks—their kind—were created by the humans after one of them, a scientist, created them as a last resort. When he gave the knowledge of creating stitchpunks to a band of surviving humans, more and more of their kind spread rapidly. Of course, some stitchpunks decided to make their kingdoms apart from humans, but some, one of them being the South Kingdom, had the support of the humans.

As the South Kingdom was the origin of where the war had started, it was only natural that they have more control over every other kingdom. And the chance of a war starting again was possible.

"I'm sorry you have to go through this," spoke 1.

9 turned to look at him, stitched brow raised.

"I wouldn't wish this on anyone," said the count, "not even if they were my worst enemy."

It took 9 a moment before continuing.

"Were you...?"

"I was," replied 1, "a long time ago. But unlike you, I married for love."

9 gave a rueful smile. "Lucky for you." He glimpsed away, letting the news of his situation crush him.

"I'm sorry," said 1, stumbling over himself.

"No, no, it's alright," 9 insisted, nodding. "It scares me, though, all of this."

1 gave a confused glance.

"Being the Prince," uttered 9, "I never asked for any of this. I didn't ask to be brought into this life." He laid his hands on his lap, breathing in a sigh.

The count looked at him. He couldn't not feel sympathy on the zippered stitchpunk, and he knew how arranged marriages played out. Most of them ended unhappy and he even heard of one such couple where the wife took her own life. The thought soaked 1's thoughts, as he feared the possibility of the same thing happening to 9.

"I won't tell you anything you don't want to hear," said 1, "except that I know how you feel."

9 looked at him as though he had sprouted a second head.

"The first time I was married," said 1, "it was because I was in love. We were close friends, he was everything I could every ask for in a partner." Then his expression grew grave. "But then, one day, we were going on a cortege, an arrow shot through his back. It was an assassin from a city in the east." His optics cast down, the memory pounding on him like an invisible weight.

"Oh dear," quoth 9, "I...I'm so sorry." He put a hand on 1's shoulder. 1 looked back at him, the urge to fight back the grief evident on his face. 9 pulled his hand away after a minute, not sure how to better handle the revelation

An uncomfortable silence passed between them. The wind swayed the tree branches. Delicate petals from the rosebushes floated by, scattering on the ground.

"When is...?" 1 paused.

9 shrugged. "I'm note sure," he replied. "And that scares me even more."

The moon bathed the garden in a faint silver glow. Shadows were cast upon the pavement, those shadows being from the trees, and the castle's rooftops. The moment felt more awkward with the silence, and 9 felt he had to break it.

"I wish there was a way to get out of this," he said, staring off into the distance. "Anything is better than marrying someone I don't love."

1 gave a reassuring glance.

"I'd like to say that it'll work out in the end," he spoke, patting 9's shoulder, "but I fear no good can come from this."

"I understand that going through this marriage will secure both kingdoms," said 9, sitting up straighter. "But...I just wish there was another way. A way where I don't have to get married."

There was no answer from 1. The question was something he didn't know the answer to. He wished for something to come to his mind.

A minute passed in silence. 9 looked up at the sky, then breathed in a sigh, standing up.

"I'll be going now," he said, looking at 1. " I...I'm sorry I dumped this on you."

"No, it's all right," retorted 1, standing up, "I didn't mind it."

9 shrugged.

"Well, I hope you enjoy the rest of your visit," he said. 9 looked on at the surrounding walls, whose windows were dark, appearing almost as though they were staring at him. "Goodnight, Count—"

"Please," interrupted 1, "no need for that. Just call me 1."

"Well, all right, then...1." It came forced out, as he wasn't used to being less formal when around nobles. "Goodnight."

9 hurried off, dashing down the same path he came. 1 stood by the stone bench, watching him leave. He sported a worried yet puzzled look. He didn't know why he was puzzled, but something about 9 left him wondering. He couldn't quite place it, but he figured he would figure it out by the time his visit ended. If not, he would make another visit to Numerus to solve the puzzle.

It was a challenge 1 was willing to take.

9 strode down the halls. The library was on his mind and he was in need of getting lost in his mind. He had finished his studies an hour ago, and anything would do, if it would take away the reminder of the arranged marriage off his mind. He didn't want to think about it any further.

He pushed open the double doors, peering inside. 9 ambled in, letting all worry subside.v

A pair of footsteps were heard overhead. 9 turned and saw a pair of twin stitchpunks coming his way. Both were cobbled out of the same pale blue fabrics with thin blue and yellow stripes, and blue hoods covering their heads. Their numbers, 3 and 4, written on their chests.

'Good day, Your Highness,' flickered 3, bowing. 4 in turned bowed, too.

'Do you need help finding a specific book?,' asked 4, standing up. 3 shot up as well, a smile on his face.

"No," said 9, "no thanks." He looked over to his left. "I'm going to read for about an hour or so."

'Very well,' flickered 3, 'let us know if you need any assistance, Your Highness.'

9 smiled, and headed on his way.

The twins, 3 and 4, came to the castle after the former librarian chose to retire two years ago. 9 enjoyed their company because they were quiet, helpful, attentive, and were well-versed in giving advice. Despite not being able to speak vocally, 9 understood their optic flickers. But sometimes 9 wondered if the twins wanted to have voice boxes installed. He often imagined what their voices would sound like.

A set of footsteps were heard from behind. Smiling, 9 turned around, expecting to see the twins, but was surprised when it turned out to be 1.

"Oh, 1—I mean, Your Excellency," 9 sputtered, remembering about protocol. He looked over at 3 and 4. The twins were looking at him, waiting for him to give out an order. "You," he began, "you two may leave us. I'm going to spend some time with the Count in the library."

4 looked over at 3 with a raised brow. 3 shrugged, but chose not to contradict the prince. The twins bowed before turning around, drifting off to the further part of the library.

"What are you—"

"I came to see you," answered 1.

"I, well..." 9 was at a loss for words. He wished he hadn't sent the twins off.

1 looked around the library. The interior was the same as the halls outside with floor-to-ceiling bookcases filled with books of every kind. Of course, the majority of theses books were human stories downsized to be read by the stitchpunks. After the war, the stitchpunk decided they have their own books in their size. The humans agreed to it, so long as they included the origin of their creation for other stitchpunks to read and understand where they came from. The library also included fictional stories of human fairytales, though 9 often thought of it as speciesist. Stitchpunks should have fairytales of their kind, but he understood where it came from. There were some things stitchpunks were limited to, and some where they're not. Some where stitchpunk didn't need to eat or drink, but sleep was still a necessity. 9 thought, no matter what, he would always see a barrier between humans and stitchpunks.

"I was going to do some reading," said 9 after a moment of silence.

1 nodded. "Is there a genre you like?"

9 continued with his walk with the count predictably following behind.

"Fiction," replied 9, "nonfiction. Whatever grabs my attention."

He wandered through a doorway leading to another part of the library. There was a staircase leading to the second floor. Books upon books filled the bookcases, waiting to be read. To the right, a window taking up most of the wall let in sunlight. A long table was set near the window with about four chairs, two bird feathers that served as quills, a few scraps of parchment, small bowls of ink, and a small stack of books. 9 walked over to the table.

"I wanted to ask you," said 9, not turning to look at 1, "what's Turris Ebernea like?"

1 blinked before answering.

"My kingdom," said 1, debating how to articulate the following sentence. "You would love the palace. It's not like yours, but the palace consists of towers and flying buttresses. The floors inside are black-and-white, like a chessboard."

"That's actually interesting," commented 9, looking over his shoulder.

1 smiled.

"There's also a royal garden," he continued, "it has bonsai trees, like your garden, although there are flowers that your garden doesn't have."

"Such as?," said 9, grabbing the nearest book from a stack. He didn't even bother with checking the title.

"Red roses," replied 1, "camellias. Lilies. I often go out into the garden to take my mind off my duties."

9 nodded. "Just like how I like to get lost in the pages of a book."

The zippered stitchpunk took a seat. 1 strode past the table, walking towards the grand window. Another question was brewing in 9's thoughts, and he just needed to get it out of the way.

"Have you been to the South Kingdom?"

1 stood before the window, stiff as a statue. He slowly turned his head.

"I've been there a few times," he said.

"And have you met the heir? The one who died?"

It took 1 a moment to answer.

"I met her," he said, turning around, "she was a devoted princess, but she also charitable."

"And what about the younger of the two heirs?" 9's question came out cautious, as though he would be whipped if he spoke out of turn.

That time, 1 almost didn't want to speak about it.

"She," he said, pacing over towards the table, "she can be..."

9 raised a brow.

"She was unbearable the last time I went to visit the South Kingdom," said 1, "arrogant, shrill, spoiled. I often asked myself how she was related to the late Princess Daetira." He looked up at 9, his expression hard to place, but he could tell the reminder irritated the count. 9 couldn't blame him.

"I thought I'd ask," he said, fiddling with the book, "since I'm expected to marry the late princess's younger sister, whose name I can't place right now."

"Her name is Valora," responded 1.

"Ah, right."

9 looked back at the book he had in front of him. Its title was as ensnaring, but the prince's interest seemed to have vanished.

Standing up, he said, "I should be heading to my next destination."

1's gaze locked on him. "You just arrived here."

"I know," said 9, walking away, "but I like to be on time with the routine."

1 looked like he was about to speak up, but chose to stay quiet as he watched the prince leave the library.

He stood alone in the library, ruminating his next plan to solve the prince's mystery.

"I've never met a real human before," spoke 9, standing before the fountain in the garden.

1 stood beside the zippered stitchpunk. He looked over at him.

"I'm not surprised," he said, "you said you've only been to kingdoms where most of them are inhabited by stitchpunks."

"But the South Kingdom is supported by the humans," said 9, "you've met the humans, right?"

1 glimpsed at the fountain before answering.

"I've met them."

"What are they like?," asked 9.

"Amazing, and yet, impulsive," said 1, "they can be unpredictable, irrational, cold." His tone took a more empathetic note. "But they can nurturing, they take care of each other. And they know how to create, and to build, and to preserve. More importantly they know how to love."

9 pondered his answer.

"Humans never come to the stitchpunk kingdoms," he quoth, "it's normally us going to them."

1 gave a nod.

The babbles from the fountain added ambience to the calm silence. A wind rustled the trees, while the flowers, at least the much taller ones, swayed in the breeze. 9 looked at the crystal clear, his reflection showing him just he wanted to see: a stitchpunk prince with all the riches in the world and more. It was something 9 found hard to bear. The crown resting atop his head three the sunlight back, and his usual gray cape trailed on the ground, hiding most of his body. Standing next to the count, he looked like a commoner compared to him.

"You'll be going back to your kingdom soon, right?," queried 9, snapping his head to look at 1.

"Indeed," retorted 1, "just three more days."

"How have you enjoyed Numerus so far?," asked 3.

"I've enjoyed my stay." 1 nodded. "I especially enjoyed yesterday's expedition."

"Oh, the outdoor theater," said 9, "and yes, I enjoyed it as well."

1 had something on his mind, but thought better of it and didn't voice it out. After all, there was still more to explore of Numerus.

In the time to come he knew he would like what he'd unravel.

How was chapter two for ya? :3 Stick around for chapter three. :D