"Come on!" Gilbert whined. "Please?" He had his two hands clasped together and was practically begging.

Ludwig caved. "Fine. But ask Grandfather first."

Gilbert groaned but ran out the door to his grandfather's room excitedly. He knew that if he did not ask his grandfather, Ludwig would find out and not let him in his look out his window while he was grounded.

"Hey, Gramps?" Gilbert knocked on the door. A man who looked similar to Ludwig, but older and with much longer hair, came out to greet him.

The gruff look on his face told that he was in the middle of something when he interrupted. Gilbert winced and apologized quietly.

"Can I go out with Antonio today? I've finished my work and I'll be sure not to make a ruckus. It's even rainy! No one's going to be outside to see me anyway," Gilbert pleaded.

"Fine."

Well, that was easy.

Whether his grandfather just wanted him to stop pestering him or was actually being complacent, Gilbert didn't know. He was happy none-the-less.

He stopped by his room to tell Ivan he would be with Ludwig today while he ran to the kitchen to find his friend.

"Toni?!" Gilbert knew the kitchen would be empty at this time of day so he yelled the name freely.

A head stuck out of the pantry. It's short curly hair and soft green eyes seemed to glow in the general darkness of the room. He walked out when he noticed who was calling for him.

"Hey amigo! Are we good to go?"

Gilbert nodded and laughed as Antonio swallowed the rest of the tomato he was munching on.

They arrived in town just as it had stopped raining. They laughed along the paths. Gilbert was enjoying stretching his legs and seeing the sights of the town. Every so often, they'd stop in a store and buy something small.

They got to the center of town and stopped to rest for a while by the fountain that sat in the middle. The foot traffic picked up since the hour they were in town and the square was bustling.

Laughter surrounded the two as they sat there. Gilbert was happy just to watch it all. It was so different from his life in the castle. He wanted desperately to become part of the everyday hustle.

Horses and wagons, people selling goods, friends walking and chatting with each other. Gilbert wanted nothing more than to join in.

Antonio, who had noticed the man next to him go quiet, pulled him up and started to converse with someone right in front of them.

Gilbert enjoyed the chat with the man. After a while, the man asked, "May I please get a cup of water from the fountain?"

Gilbert cackled and nodded, turning around to get it.

Handing the man the cup, he watched as he took a sip and smiled setting the dipper back down on the fountain's edge.

"May I ask your name?"

"Gilbert," he bowed slightly. "And may I ask yours?"

"Arthur," the man replied. "Pleased to meet your acquaintance."

"The honor is mine."

The two laughed and Antonio soon joined in.

After a while longer, the man departed. Antonio and Gilbert decided to head back to the castle before they caused any trouble and upset the king.

After watching his father leave, Matthew entered the house slowly.

Reagan, who was sitting near the entrance beckoned him near and he joined him on the couch. A hug was given and for a second, Matthew felt comforted.

Pulling away, he muttered, "Thank you, Step-father."

"You mustn't call me that," Reagan said, moving a hair out of Matthew's eyes. "Sir will do just fine."

For an instant, a quizzical look passed over Matthew's face. It was soon gone and replaced with a kind and respectful smile. He repeated himself. "Thank you, sir."

Just then, the two boys passed, arguing like always.

"I believe they find the room they share confining. It is their first time without having rooms of their own."

Matthew thought for a second. Maybe he could help. "My room is the biggest besides yours and fathers. Maybe they would like to share it instead."

Reagan looked very pleased and Matthew couldn't help but feel slightly proud of himself. "How kind you are."

"And I can stay in their r—"

"You can stay in the attic! A marvelous idea. Thank you so much, dear." Reagan ruffled his hair.

"The attic?" Matthew faltered.

Walked to the parlor and Matthew followed close behind. "Only temporarily while I have the house redecorated. It'll be much nicer here and you won't be bothered as much by us.

Reagan bent down and picked up his violin. "And you can keep this nonsense up there with you."

Matthew's smile faltered as he took the violin that was given to him by his papa. "Of course."

He moved out quickly.

The stairs to the attic were old and hadn't been stepped on in years. Part of Matthew wondered if when he'd step on them, they'd break. He'd carried his stuff to the bottom of the stairwell and now, looking up, he wished he could just stay here.

Reagan had caught him standing there. "Up you go now. There should be plenty of room." Matthew could practically hear the smirk in his voice but thought it a trick of the ear.

He nodded, but didn't dare look at the face he was sure was still watching him. Grabbing a box, he slowly ascended, careful not to miss a step lest he tumble all the way back down.

Finally reaching the rickety platform, Matthew shifted the box to his hip in order to open the door.

The musty smell made him cough but he went inside regardless. Setting down the first box, he went over to a small couch and dusted it off, sitting down. Finding it rather comfortable, he looked around the room. It was completely wooden with no decorations. A window showed the front of the house and there were several old barrels and containers that Matthew was sure hadn't been opened, or touched for that matter, in years.

He looked up at the door, reminding himself that he still had to carry the rest up.

Suddenly, two figures appeared.

"This is ridiculous. How absolutely stupid."

"It's so dusty!"

Matthew rolled his eyes and smiled at the twins who were each carrying a box of their own.

He tried desperately to hide the tears in his eyes. "Thank you."

"No problem Matteo!" Feliciano put down his box and opened it to find Matthew's violin. "Won't you play for us?"

The two sat down on the couch as Matthew took the violin. He stood in the light of the window and drug the bow across the strings slowly at first. Once reacquainted, he began a merry tune.

For just those moments, Matthew and the twins found themselves very immensely happy despite their surroundings.

Nothing about Matthew's early mornings changed. He still enjoyed helping with the everyday chores and greeting everyone as they arrived to start their days.

The boys, who were now sharing Matthew's old bedroom, still seemed to be uneasy and uncomfortable with each other, especially in the mornings.

Matthew often snickered when one decided to attempt to play the harpsichord in the parlor or draw a portrait. They both failed so miserably. He did not mean to be rude, so he often held his joy at the look in Reagan eyes that said, "Dear Lord, kill me now."

Anytime Reagan caught him staring, he'd chastise Matthew. Emery and Calvin would usually snicker from behind their father.

Still, his promise to both his father and his papa would come back to him. It was important that he remained kind to these people. They were his family now as well.

In the process of being yelled at, Reagan had knocked a book off the table. After the session of anger, Matthew picked it up and placed in the bookshelf. He sighed to himself and went outside for some fresh air.

On his way out, he noticed Reagan smirking at him. It made him extremely nervous.

The twins were in the stables, ready to provide the comfort he needed.

A knock sounded on the door. It was odd to get visitors at such an hour, but Matthew opened the for regardless.

To say he was shocked was an understatement. Standing in front of him was one of Arthur's travel companions. He looked troubled, a strange look on the man due to his usually energetic nature.

"Monsieur Logan, how good to see you." Matthew could feel tears forming but he tried to push them back.

Behind him, he heard his step-father and brothers gather.

"Matthew," Logan took off his hat, revealing his brown, slicked back hair. "I regret to inform you," he paused for a moment, taking the time to compose himself and chose his next words carefully. "Your father had grown ill on the road. He's gone." A tear slipped down his own cheek as he looked up to Matthew.

The boy looked distraught but quickly pulled himself together.

"At the end, he spoke of you and your father alone. He loved you both dearly. He told me to tell you that Gilbert was such a nice man. He even talked for a while with him." He handed Matthew a piece of paper that was folded neatly into thirds.

In the background, Matthew heard grumbles of missing face creams and ties as he looked to the floor.

Reagan soon spoke, "We're ruined! We'll have to dismiss the servants! We have no money!"

The three strode down the hallway in anger.

Matthew looked up to Logan. A tear trail connected Matthew's watery eyes to his trembling, but still smiling lips. "Thank you. That must have taken a lot of courage. Good day."

Matthew slowly backed away from the door and closed it.

Logan turned around slowly. He felt like he saw something he shouldn't have. That face should never have felt such pain and the people behind it should have never been allowed to stand there and say such things.

Matthew stood behind the door, his head pressed against it as he tried again to compose himself.

He slowly carried himself to his room and sat on the dusty couch, slowly opening the letter.

Dear Matthew,

Apologies for not being there to say his name in my funny accent. Gilbert was a kind fellow, although a bit odd. His friend started talking to me first, but he was the one who had given me the water and as per your request, his name as well.

I hope you understand how wonderful a person you are. I feel I should have stayed back for you. I wonder if I would have been able to see you in my last moments. Instead, I have to stare at this ugly lot.

Francis would have been so proud of you. I miss him dearly and, to be frank, I cannot wait to see his gentle, smiling face again. I know he'll tease me. You should know I'm preparing a witty comeback for whatever he can throw.

Francis believed your roses held all the luck in the world, and I believe so as well. This only goes to prove it. Do not feel bad though. We all knew this day would come and it is no one's fault. Not even my own.

Please take care of them in my absence. Please take care of the home that your papa cherished so dearly. And please never chance that kind man you have grown to be.

I love you so much.

You Father,

Arthur Kirkland

P.S. Please continue playing your violin. We'll be dancing, I swear.

Matthew smiled tearfully as he continued to reread the letter and cry until he fell asleep.

Hi!

I had to add in an ode to the Rodgers and Hammerstein version with the getting a drink of water bit. It's a bit backward and wrong but I'm still pretty proud of it.

I hope I managed to write an okay Gilbert. Please excuse how awful it is. I found him a lot harder to write than I expected.

Anyway, thank you for reading this far! I really appreciate it!