Part Three

Gustav was loath to disturb his master and his guest during their breakfast the following morning, but the package from America, covered in 'PPB' and 'Urgent!' stickers, demanded immediate attention.

"I wonder what it could be?" The nobleman asked, more to be polite in Michael's company than actually caring.
Michael shrugged, giving a sad smile when he noticed the All Starz' logo in the corner of the sender's sticker. He had been away from his team for two weeks, and although he had only been conscious for one day during that time, he still missed them. He missed Emily yelling at him for being ignorant; he missed joking around with Eddy and Steven; but most of all, he missed Trygle.

"Hmm..." Robert frowned at the contents of the parcel. "Gustav, take this to my private quarters, and get Ms Tate on the telephone for me."
"Of course, Sire." The head of the household bowed and left the room with the mysterious delivery tucked under his arm.

"What was it?" Michael asked, curious as to why Judy needed to be called about it.
Robert's frown deepened. "Nothing you need concern yourself with."
"It had the All Starz logo on it, I think I have a right to know what they're sending you."
"I will not tolerate such insolence from a guest in my castle!" The knight set his cutlery down and rose to his feet. "Finish your breakfast, I will return to help you back up to your room momentarily."

Michael pouted, but was in no position to do anything else. The very same Robert who had made him feel so loved yesterday as they walked together in the gardens, also had the ability to make him feel like he was nothing - no, lower than nothing.

Why did he even care? It wasn't as if he were trying to impress Sir Robert, or even attempt to be his friend. The pair were champion Beybladers from opposite sides of the world, and that's where their similarities ended. All Michael had to do was recover well enough from his wounds for Robert's doctors to give him the all-clear to travel, and he'd be gone - leaving this castle, and its owner, far behind him.

If it were up to him, he would have been gone the moment he regained consciousness yesterday morning. But Robert and Judy seemed to want him to suffer. Nothing would make him feel better than being in his own room, surrounded by all of his own things. He didn't even have access to his lucky cap. He'd never gone out in public without it, and now he was forced to parade in front of Robert's seemingly endless supply of servants with his unruly magenta mane curled and spiked out in all directions.

In pain and embarrassed... the experience of the lap of medieval luxury wasn't exactly selling itself to him.

"The master is in the middle of an important phone call and will join you in a few minutes." Gustav showed the pair of boys into the dining hall. "Please have something to eat while you wait."
"Thanks, Gustav, you rock!" The taller, blonde boy punched his fist into the air triumphantly.

"Oh?" The purple eyes of the shorter boy caught Michael's. "I'm so happy to see you're finally awake! Robert's been so worried about you... it was kind of sweet."
"Don't listen to Oliver, he's too romantic for his own good. Robert wasn't so much sweet as pathetic."
"Hi, guys." Michael gave a weak smile, still rather upset about his argument over the All Starz' mysterious parcel. "It's good to see you again, Oliver and... Enrique, wasn't it?"

Robert walked in on the three boys mid-conversation. Oliver and Michael sat side by side; the French boy was sipping a cup of tea, whilst the American's attention was drawn entirely to Enrique, who was bounding around the room like he was trying to fly.

"You're the Michael Parker?! Aw, man! I've seen you play a couple of times - I love you!"
Robert frowned. It was if the words themselves had slapped him. Michael was revelling in the attention, and nobleman couldn't help but be jealous of the smile Enrique had put on his guest's handsome face. He didn't possess the flair himself to make anyone truly smile, not like the blonde Italian boy.
"I didn't recognise you without your hat... your hair is awesome! Can I touch it?"

"I did not know you were a fan of baseball, Enrique." Robert cut in, growing more and more displeased with how the conversation was going.
"There's a lot of things you don't know about me. The girls and I took off to the US for some fun a few months ago... So, Mikey, do you think you'd be able to get us some kick-ass seats for your next game?"
Michael looked at Robert. "I don't know when I'll be up to playing again."

The way he said it was so sad, as if his very heart was breaking at the thought of being forbidden to do what he loved most. If Oliver hadn't leapt up to give him a reassuring hug, Robert was frightened that he very well might have.
"Don't you worry your pretty little head over it!" The small boy chirped, nuzzling into Michael's shoulder. "You already look a thousand times better than you did when you left Russia."

Robert looked on, unamused. Oliver's flirting was embarrassing and infuriating to watch. How long would it take him, with his big sparkling eyes and girlie face to win over Michael? His guest... His Michael. He wished Johnny was there. He would have put a stop to all of this insanity with a couple of nasty remarks, which Robert, unfortunately, did not have the facetiousness to do himself.

Enrique had the verve; Oliver had the charm; Johnny had the wit. Robert, when compared to the company he kept, had nothing. He could see exactly why his foreign counterparts lit up his guest's face like he knew he never could - and it filled him with a strange longing that he had never felt before... a longing which could not, for once, be satisfied by his mountains of money.

"That big cut on your cheek has almost healed completely - and it looks like it's not going to scar either. You're very good-looking, I would hate to have seen you scarred."
"Oliver, that's enough!"
"Enough of what?" The green-haired boy looked confused. Why would Robert yell at him when he was only trying to be friendly?

"Come on, Oliver, let's go get something to eat... you own a restaurant around here, right?" Enrique yawned, grabbing his friend by the arm and dragging him to the door. "I think Robert wants his guest all to himself."

Robert rolled his eyes, even the way Oliver waved had an undeniable cuteness to it. The way Michael smiled and waved back told him that he could see it, too.

"I apologise for Oliver's behaviour." The knight said as he took his seat at the head of the table. "Embarrassing you like that was inexcusable, and I shall have a talk with him about it later."
"He didn't embarrass me... I'm just not used to so much affection."
"It did not bother you? He was all over you like a rash!"
"I kinda liked it. My fans usually aren't that pretty." Michael laughed. "But don't worry... he's not my type."
"I beg your pardon?!" Robert demanded, more worried than angry by the insinuation.
"You looked really upset when he was hugging me. I just want you to know I'm not interested in him, and he's all yours."

It took a moment for the nobleman to understand what had been suggested. "That is very generous of you, Michael, but my tastes are bold, not cute."