Arthur sighed as he heard the ring that was informing everyone, that it was lunch break. He was really glad, because today he overslept and had to skip breakfast, to come to school on time. And now he was regretting it, as he still was late to his first period. But that was thanks to him being stuffed inside his own locker. Arthur cursed his small build. And Antony, who had the guts to do it and leave him there when it rang.
The blonde rushed through the corridors, trying not to be noticed. He was doing quite good job, until he entered the cafeteria.
"Hey, Your Majesty, here to eat with the commoners?" called Antony and his friends laughed cruelly.
Arthur gulped and walked by them without answering. But Antony didn't let it slide just like that. He grabbed Arthur's arm.
"What is it, King?" he sneered, "Too noble for us? Or are we too old for you?"
"I-I am nine, like y-you," stuttered Arthur.
"You are not. You still have four months to go," growled Antony, "How the hell did you get into our year is beyond me. After all, you are such tiny whelp…"
"Don't call me that!" Arthur snapped.
"Or what, loser?" Antony smirked, but then Arthur's fist made contact with his nose and he fell to the floor.
Children around them screamed as Arthur and Antony started to fight.
"You did what?!" Father Patrick yelled.
He was glaring at Arthur, who today returned later than others. Other pupils told the monks, that Arthur was in detention, so as soon as the blond boy returned, Father Patrick called him to his office. He had questioned the boy, why he was in detention and was told about how he fought with his classmate. The other boy had to go to the nurse, because his nose was bleeding.
"I-I," Arthur tried to explain himself, but the look on Father Patrick's face made him shiver.
"No," Father Patrick hissed, "There is no excuse for that kind of behavior!"
Arthur flinched and nodded.
"Now to kneel in the corner and recite The Apostle's Creed… twenty times," hissed Father Patrick.
Arthur paled, but quickly went to do that.
Arthur took a breath and started, "I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of Heaven and Earth…"
About 30 minutes later Arthur finished with his punishment. His feet hurt and his voice was hoarse.
"Arthur," Father Patrick started softly, "Do you know, why I gave you that punishment?"
Arthur stayed silent.
"Because we all have great expectations for you," Father Patrick sighed, "You cannot let yourself be pulled into some gang and start fights with yours classmates."
"But…" Arthur tried to defend himself, but Father Patrick raised his hand.
"I wasn't finished. You are really bright… In fact, you are the smartest kid this orphanage ever had. You have so much potential. Me and other Brothers know, that you will get far in your life. So act like it! Study hard and behave. Am I understood?" Father Patrick asked.
Arthur could only nod.
After that he was finally let go. He walked to his bedroom, which he shared with five other boys. The bedroom was empty. They were all probably doing their chores. Which he should start on too.
Arthur pulled basked full of clothes closer. As a eight year old, he was tasked by mending of torn clothes. Younger children did only some sweeping and laying tables. As they got older, they started at mending, and gardening, laundry, and only teenagers could cook, because there was the danger of burning themselves.
The blond boy pulled out first shirt, which fortunately only needed new button. If they all were going this easy, maybe he will have time for his own clothes. Or more specifically for the old tunic that Brother Mathew gave him. He wanted to adjust it to himself, so that he could wear it as a cloak. It would be useful when he goes to the forest for a walk to clear his mind.
Arthur liked going to the near forest. It always calmed him down. Some animals even got so accustomed to him being there, that they came over to him.
Arthur sighed as he looked at the pile that still needed the mending. With that and all the homework he got, it was unlikely that he would go to the forest. Not to say, that Father Patrick and other orphanage Brothers will keep closer eye on him for a while. Just his luck.
"For the fifth time this month, no England still hadn't let us know about his whereabouts," Wales dramatically sighed into his phone.
France called him. Again. Fifth time just this month. He was getting anxious that England was still missing. And truth to be told, Wales was starting to get anxious too. England probably just passed 8 now, which was high time for him to awaken. But they didn't hear a word from him. Which was getting weird. It never took so much time for the English nation to awaken.
"Maybe you should call Scotland, he is probably better informed than me, he is older after all," Wales hoped that France will let him be and call the Scotsman, so that he could go back to his homework. But he didn't have such time, as the Frenchman told him, that he already called him.
"France… We told you, that we will call you as soon as we know about England," Wales groaned, "So if we didn't, we just don't know!"
Finally France gave up, and hung up, but not before he promised to call again. Wales sighed again.
"Maybe…" Wales leant back in his chair and looked at the ceiling, "Maybe we should start to look for England ourselves. If nothing else, then for the sake of our sanity. Because if we don't tell France that England is back soon, we are gonna lose it…"