Gilbert actually found himself enjoying the rest of the ball. Sitting with his grandfather, they spoke for most of the rest of the night. It surprised Gilbert how many stories the man had of his younger days and the pranks he used to pull.

It was the first time in a long while the two had connected so well.

At some point, Ivan reappeared and told Gilbert to dance at his own ball and so he went back onto the floor. He danced with many people and conversed with them. Most of them annoyingly droned on. Most of whom wanted to dance with him were clearly after his title and money. He found it tasteless after spending most of the night with his Birdie.

He reminisced over the events earlier that evening. Remembering how perfect it had been. He was reminded of the violet eyes by a purple dress that didn't even come close to how beautiful the irises had been.

A red dress twirled to his side and the images of the form-fitting jacket came into view.

Anyone he danced with that night reminded Gilbert of his Birdie.

He found himself getting tired. Both in exhaustion and in the disappointment of not seeing the one who ran away from him not hours ago.

After a while, he retired for the night, taking the glove his loved one left behind with him.

He still stayed up, tracing the embroidering, imaging the face, wishing it was still in front of him.

Matthew's ride home was slow. He hunched over hugging Kuma as the pain from a couple of hours ago returned. He talked through it. In hushed tones, he told his horse about his wonderful night and the prince he conversed with throughout the gardens.

He explained the complexity he found in Gilbert. It made his heart twist just thinking about it. He almost begged for attention while still maintaining his cool exterior. At the same time, Matthew found he cared for everyone. His people, his family, and now, just maybe, Matthew.

Once home, Matthew changed his clothes and took advantage of the empty house by playing his violin. It had been a while, but the sweet song that pulled on the string would still give any man cavities. The song was one that his papa taught him, the one played at the ball for the first dance. As he played, he danced as if he was still there, with the prince.

That was until the carriage pulled up. Matthew hid his violin, along with the glove and the rose.

He ran down to the kitchen and tried to not look flustered when the others met him there.

"I'll prepare tea."

The boys chattered on about their nights with the prince.

Calvin started. "He was so graceful when we danced."

"Even more when we did."

"Our souls met."

"Exactly. My soul and the prince's. Your soul was over in the restroom."

Emery replied by sticking out his tongue. "Besides, he danced with me twice. So ha."

"He didn't even speak to you two nincompoops."

"It's not like it was our faults."

"You're right. Look at your clothing. It doesn't nearly stand out as much."

Matthew didn't turn around from his tea. He hoped he'd get away without another beating since the boys were in such a good mood.

"But it was also that stupid boy." And Matthew was saved. There were times he was glad the boys had one-track minds.

"Yes. The mystery prince."

"The disgusting half-pint waltzed into the ball unaccompanied and threw himself at the prince. The shameless scamp should have been escorted out by the guards right then." Matthew tried not to laugh at the displeasure in Reagan's voice.

He still acted as if he was making tea although he was really just waiting for the water to heat.

"A prince, wanting a runt like that. Why would anyone?"

"So frail! I could have definitely broken his arm."

"His skin looked delicate and soft, but not any softer than a doe's. I bet I could have pulled out his hair easily."

"The prince really did us all a favor when he escorted the gamin outside and the disgusting urchin left in a hurry afterward." The boys laughed.

"I can only imagine what he said."

"Probably that his attire was questionable."

Matthew, although a bit disturbed by the boys' previous notions of harm, wanted to laugh. He knew what really happened. It was his who left with the prince for a while and him who made his step-brothers so jealous. He bit his lip before he smiled more than usual and poured the tea.

Matthew listened to them complain for a while longer before excusing himself for bed.

He early tuned out the noise and danced around his room as if the prince were still holding his hand and the first dance never stopped.

The cold of the night didn't seem to bother him, even in his threadbare clothing.

At some point, Matthew realized how late it had gotten. He wrote down all that he remembered of the night in a journal he only wrote sparingly in as it was a gift from his father before he left.

He went to sleep, thanking Alfred and thinking of Gilbert.

Matthew woke up late. It left him just enough time, thankfully, to get everything ready before Reagan stirred.

He went on through his usual routine. He didn't expect anything to change and it certainly hadn't. Last night, he thought, must have surely been a dream but the rose and glove in his box said otherwise. But like the other things in it, he was prepared for it to become a beautiful, distant memory, like his father and papa and his childhood.

He had the pleasure of going to town when he realized they needed a few things from the market.

Of course, while he was there he'd visit his two friends.

He walked to town. Kuma, he felt, would still be tired after last night. He felt a smile reach his lips as he danced nearly all the way there, only composing himself when he got to the outskirts of town.

Finding the restaurant, he went inside and was direct towards the back again.

He waited in the usual stool. Matthew noticed that there were a few more cooks than the last time he came.

This time, it didn't take long for the two to pull themselves away.

"Matteo! Your face." His smile fell as he remembered the bruises that must have been propionate at this point.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I had forgotten about them."

"I swear, I'm going to—"

Matthew cut him off quickly. "Please don't. They're the only family I have left."

Feliciano smiled a bit. "Let us at least clean you up and you can tell us about your night." He winked and laughed.

Matthew nodded, laughing a bit as well. "Only if you tell me about yours."

He was taken to the back room where they started to help him dress his wounds, especially on his torso.

Neither of the twins said anything about the injuries, but anyone could tell they were both fuming, one more than the other.

Matthew was blissfully unaware as he spoke of his night at the ball. A sudden realization came.

"You two knew, didn't you? That he was the prince."

This cause the twins to break out in laughter.

"Of course!"

"Matteo, it would have been cruel to tell. If you didn't know, the prince obviously didn't want you to know."

"What about your nights?" Matthew put his shirt back on, sitting with his head in his hands, staring expectedly at the two.

"It was wonderful! I met Gilbert's brother Ludwig and Lovi met his guard, Antonio. They approached us when you left and didn't leave until it was time to go. It was magical, wasn't it Lovino!"

"Whatever, idiota." A blush covered his face. "That tomato-bastard can dig a whole and sit in if for all I care." Mumbling followed that was soon covered by laughs.

And the rest of the visit went like that. Lovino and Feliciano told Matthew of their night and Matthew listened intently.

The time ended when a knock was heard on the door. Matthew was introduced to the two men and the two introduced to Matthew. They were the ones he had been hearing of from the twins.

"I really must be going. From what I've heard, you both sound wonderful." Matthew tried to keep his face down. He didn't want to meet their eyes lest he find pity in them.

He gave the twins hugs and left.

It was true that the two pairs of eyes held sympathy for the boy. Even from their angle, they could see the bruises and cuts on his face.

He gave each of the twins a hug before he left, closing the door softly behind him.

The four stood silently. They all knew the situation as the twins had explained it the other night.

"He looked a lot worse when he came in. He never complains about it." The troubled face looked up at the others.

"Do we have a plan yet to get him out of the stupid house?"

Ludwig spoke next. "We'll come in the with the pretense of a letter from the prince. They should invite us in for tea of some sorts."

"Sounds like the sort of butt-kissing shit they'd do," Lovino interrupted in a mutter.

Antonio continued relaying the message. "We'll use this to get a lay of the land and where Matthew is. I'll probably say out of the house and search for him."

"Well, his room is in the attic. He'll probably be there if he's not making tea." Ludwig nodded at the new information Feliciano had given them.

"A couple of days later," he could already feel an angry Italian protest, "so we don't seem too suspicious, we'll pick him up with Gilbert."

Meanwhile, Ivan was forced to put up with the angry Gilbert who was not allowed to be informed on their plan. They all knew how he would just get made and rush in to save the boy while potentially making things worse.

Gilbert had calmed down from his other rants earlier in the day. He was sitting on his bed, admiring the detailed golden embroidery on the left glove. He made comments to Ivan about it every now and then.

"There is a large maple leaf in the center."

"It's a soft fabric. His hands were even softer in the forest. Slightly calloused but beautiful."

"I can imagine his hand being in it again."

Dear Lord. Ivan just wanted it to stop at this point. Gilbert was probably doing this on purpose, knowing that his weakness was dejected comments.

He also knew that the prince did actually feel that way. All his comments were painstakingly true and that's also what made them so unbearable.

"What if we took a walk through town? Would that make you stop talking?"

"No."

Ivan was so tired of this. It was obviously going to turn out right. "Let's go anyway. Maybe I can lose you in the crowd."

And so, they went. Gilbert, upon seeing his people look so cheery after the ball, seemed to be in a much better mood. He was still talking, but it was no longer in that despondent way that made Ivan want to scream.

They walked around the fountain in the square when Ivan spotted a certain someone out of the corner of his eyes and something told him a prince had spotted him too.

"Birdie!"

Oh great. Ivan swore he felt a headache coming on due to this nonsense.

Thank you for reading! Have a wonderful day!