Vienna, 1869.

Roderich could scarcely stand it anymore. The words on the memorandum before him blurred together and his neck ached from being crunched over his desk. Any attempts to work were thwarted by his mind's betrayal, painting him idyllic pictures of leisure. He sighed in frustration, staring out the window with longing. It was a gorgeous Friday, how could he waste it on such trivial matters as diplomacy and finance? Yes, the slothful part of him cajoled, no issue is resolved in a day. The weather was perfect for a hearty stroll in the garden, perhaps it would serve as inspiration for his latest piece…

He was closing his study door before he had time to process it, a renewed spring in his step. Roderich was not one to shirk his duties often – not like certain others he knew – but no one was immune to the siren call of relaxation. Besides, if all of humanity took this day to half-ass their work then why should he serve as a shining exemplar of duty and perseverance? He was fine with a good double-standard, but never those that applied to him.

So deep was he in this train of thought that Roderich did not realize he was not alone in the hallway. Turning a corner, he bumped into an equally startled Erzsébet. He felt his cheeks begin to burn. "My apologies, I should pay attention more." He looked between Erzsébet and Gilbert. Neither were dressed particularly nicely, in clothes that held old grass and mud stains. "Where are you two off to?"

"Overthrowing the yoke of Habsburg tyranny," Gilbert only dropped his serious expression when Erzsébet smacked him the arm.

"We're going for a ride. A peaceful ride." She playfully glared at Gilbert, who stuck his tongue out at her in response.

"You've got your bow with you, Liebling. The deer won't exactly think you're coming in peace." This time when she went to smack him, he gently grabbed her wrist and kissed her hand. "You have to be quicker than that. I'm catching on to you!"

"That sounds lovely. Do you two mind if I come along?" Roderich was as surprised at the request as they were. The way they were staring at him, combined with his own shame, caused his skin to crawl. "Forget that I asked, I don't know what came over me. You two enjoy yourselves."

"Roderich, get over yourself. Of course, you can come along."

Gilbert's eyes widened, the shock of a man who found himself on another planet. "Erzsi, he just said he understands. We don't need to spend time with him out of pity."

"We're not doing anything out of pity, but out of kindness. Which isn't that what we've always wanted?"

"Not kindness, respect. Look, we only see each other on the weekends. If I can settle for my measly three days, then he should respect that he has four and quit being greedy." Gilbert glowered at Roderich before returning his full attentions onto Erzsébet. "We've only just started acting somewhat civilized about this whole arrangement, there's no need to make it harder."

Roderich rolled his eyes. "Can I get a straight answer or are you two going to waste the afternoon bickering over me?" He chuckled, amusing himself with parallels. "Although it is flattering – I see why you do nothing to quell it, Erzsébet."

Sighing, she pushed up and whispered something in Gilbert's ear. Whatever it was, it seemed to bring about a begrudging satisfaction in him. He eyeballed Roderich before nodding his head. "You can come if you can get changed quick. Don't make me stand around waiting for you."

Unwilling to test the bounds of Gilbert's patience and Erzsébet's generosity, Roderich changed into his riding clothes as quickly as he could. He glanced at himself in the mirror and resisted the urge to smooth over his disheveled hair. What would be the point when it would surely be ruined again and would cause him to be mocked?

He rushed out the bedroom and found Gilbert and Erzsébet chatting amongst themselves, a picnic basket now in Gilbert's hand. Roderich could barely suppress a chortle at the sight, which caused their heads to perk up his way.

"What's your problem?" Gilbert intoned, tilting his head to the side.

"Nothing, nothing at all." Roderich put a hand to his mouth, snickering. A mischievous glint was in his eyes. "I just never expected to see you looking so twee. How will your precious masculinity ever recover?"

It was his turn to be smacked by Erzsébet, which only caused his snickering to devolve into laughter. "Now you behave!"

"He started it!" Roderich licked his lips and wagged his index finger at Gilbert. "After this, you would be wise to never call me foppish again. Especially when I know what you'll let Erzsébet do to you."

Gilbert shrugged with an air of utter nonchalance. "Anyone with half a brain could guess that. It's the things she does to you and how much you like them most would find shocking." He crossed his arms over his chest, looking quite smug at Roderich's embarrassment. "Take some pride in it! Why would you want to be with a woman who doesn't have you on your knees begging for it? And better yet when she-"

"Gil!" Erzsébet interjected, her face a brilliant scarlet. "Can you talk about this when I'm not right next to you?"

He blinked slowly, coming out of his own daze, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Heh, sorry." Once she was a few paces in front of them, he turned to Roderich with a quirked eyebrow. "Come on, with the marriage better, you have to know what I mean."

"I don't want to talk about this with you!" Roderich hissed back between his teeth. After a pause and a resigned sigh, he nodded. "I've always known. You can't tell me you haven't picked a fight for that very reason?"

Erzsébet turned back and glared at them with intensity. "Do you think I'm deaf or stupid?"

"Neither, we're both sorry." Roderich touched his hand to his chest in a show of obeisance.

Gilbert pretended to lock his mouth shut. "Won't happen again. We'll be good from now on."

Once she turned away, they shared a glance of mutual understanding. There was the exact look that could mean both heaven and hell, paradise and perdition. If nothing else, they could agree to the beauty of her fire.

Erzsébet stopped abruptly at the parlor before turning back to meet them. "Do you think we should invite Ludwig along? He looks so lonely reading in there by himself."

"Erzsi, that's all he has an interest in doing recently. He has no time for us. Idle youth," Gilbert scoffed. "He'll be happier if we don't bother him."

"I don't think you're exactly wrong, Gilbert, but it does feel rude to run off without a word. Even if he rejects our overtures, it's the polite thing to do." Roderich's eyes became distant, drifting off into times long past. "Being that young and maturing as rapidly as he's been, he must be even more emotionally delicate than we were at that tender age. There's no reason to trammel over his emotions needlessly."

"Aw, you're both so considerate! You'd feel a lot differently if you had to deal with every emotional high and low the kid threw at you. But fine, I'll show you a day in my life." Gilbert straightened himself up, summoning an air of mischief out of nothing.

Gilbert sank down on the sofa besides Ludwig, their shoulders brushing. He leaned over, blocking the boy's view of the pages with his head. "What are we reading? Anything interesting?"

"Clausewitz." Ludwig shifted around, moving so he had an unobstructed view of his book again. "You said I needed to learn how to fight if I was to help you in the next war, so I'm learning how to fight."

"Lutz, I meant real battle experience. Clausewitz didn't get his ideas by sitting in a study, thinking about all sorts of esoteric bullshit like some soft-bellied academic. He was a man of action! When I said that to you, I was trying to encourage you to do something beyond burying your nose in a book." Gilbert rested his arm on the back of the sofa, patting his hand against Ludwig's shoulder. "There's a place for theory, but can you apply it beyond the realm of toy soldiers? That's the real test, kid."

Even from the doorway it was obvious to see the effect Gilbert's words had. Ludwig's shoulders shot up to his ears and his jaw clenched and re-clenched. "We just fought a war against Austria and you kept me with the king in Berlin."

"You're still hung up on this? Fine, let's be honest about what war entails for our kind." He waved Roderich into the room, who took his seat across from them. "Ludwig, you love your Onkel, don't you?"

"What's that have to do with anything?" When neither of them answered his question, Ludwig huffed. "Yeah, of course I do. I love all three of you. We're family, right?"

Roderich nodded his head. "We are family, which is why you didn't fight." He held up a hand at Ludwig's protestations. "Do you really want to kill me or have me kill you? That is the reality Gilbert was shielding you from."

Ludwig rolled his eyes with all the intemperance of a teenager who felt he'd figured the world out already. "So the three of you can fight in every war against each other without repercussions but I have to stay home and sit in on ministry meetings? We visited the weekend after peace was declared and everything was fine again! Why am I so special?"

Gilbert and Roderich shared an equally bemused look. "Lutz, there are repercussions. You just haven't lived long enough to see them." He gave the boy a firm squeeze on his shoulder. "My relationship with Roderich is, ah, complicated. And I've never gotten any joy out of warring against Erzsébet. The sooner you grow up, the sooner the muck gets on you." Gilbert batted the thought away with a flick of his wrist and an easy smile. "Now, the three of us are going out hunting. Are you going to spend all your time inside or are you going to do something?"

"Is the piano room open? I'd like to read in there." Ludwig had brushed Gilbert off completely, focusing all his attentions on Roderich now. He did not notice how his father winced.

Roderich gave him a sympathetic smile. "The run of the house is yours."

Erzsébet glided into the room past Ludwig, shaking her head. "I don't necessarily disagree with you, but you could stand to show him more compassion. You out of all people should understand why he's so desperate to prove himself to you."

"I understand perfectly, which is why I'm doing my damnedest to delay the inevitable." There was a laugh in his eyes as Gilbert took her hand in his. "Are you implying that you want to be the one to give him his full education in war?"

"You know that's not what I'm saying. All I'm asking is for you to show the poor boy some sympathy. The world will be cruel enough to him in time. You don't need to beat it to the punch." She glanced out the window. "Now can we leave? I don't want to waste anymore of such a perfect day."

…

Roderich had his horse trot a couple of paces behind them. He did not often venture in the forest, respecting its value as Erzsébet's sanctuary away from it all. More than that, he found pleasure in not being the one to lead and drive them forward. While such passivity to the caprices of others was usually contrary to his very nature, today he could make an exception.

"Where's our destination?" His passivity did not mean he wished to travel in ignorance.

"Wherever the deer are," Erzsébet's reply was simple as she fiddled with her bow. "Haven't you ever been hunting before?"

Now there was a question. Roderich clicked his tongue, his memory stretching back through the years. "Socially, as a matter of course. But when I last gave it a valiant effort? Centuries ago, back when we all would have been children." Their disbelief raised his hackles. "Everything was provided for me! Why slaughter the poor creatures when it's just for sport? It's better for them to live their lives unmolested or, better yet, save them for the poor wretches who actually depend on game for survival."

Gilbert whistled. "That's a lot of words to say you're a bad shot." He laughed at Roderich's sputtering. "You do realize, in all the wars we've fought, you've hardly grazed me with a bullet? Meanwhile, well, I don't need to brag about my skills with a gun-"

"But you will anyway," Erzsébet teased.

"But I will anyway!" Gilbert exclaimed with gusto. Despite being baited, he couldn't help but snicker along with them. "I was going to compliment your cavalry, but now I don't think I will."

"Why do I need your praise when I've got success on my side? I don't have enough fingers or toes to count the number of times they've had your lot running."

Gilbert dramatically rolled his eyes. "You're all sugar and spice today." He nodded his head back towards Roderich. "You put him through the wringer like this too or is this the high price of your favor?"

"Just because the marriage is quieter now, don't mistake that for her giving me peace." Roderich smirked, chortling to himself. "Though I will say, you do have more coals you must walk across than I."

Erzsébet raised a hand up, beaming at Gilbert. "In my defense, szerelmem, you make it too easy for me."

The corner of Gilbert's mouth turned up in a goofy smile. "You know, I think I'm starting to believe in the sanctity of marriage." This earned him a laugh from his companions, one he couldn't resist joining in on.

A flash of fur amongst the trees was enough to break Erzsébet out of her merry. Her grip on her bow tightened, her left arm snapping out to stop Gilbert from treading further. She pressed a finger to her lips before speeding off into the forest after the prey she had spotted.

"Does she expect us to go after her?" Roderich could not hide his frustration from edging into his voice. He regretted not questioning them before they left about what was expected.

Gilbert quirked up his eyebrow, a smirk inching its way across his lips. "I've only got my knife on me. Unless you feel like strangling the poor thing to death, I say we let her have all the fun." When Roderich shuddered at the notion, Gilbert barked out a laugh. "You'll put down any rebellion without a second thought, fight me with more contempt than I've ever seen, but strangling a deer is a step too far for our genteel Österreich?" He snorted. "I can't wait to tell Georg that one."

"Shut up, you brat. When have I ever been wronged by deer? Prussians, on the other hand, you can never be too careful around them." He smiled at Gilbert's eyeroll. So long as he could get his licks in, Roderich supposed it was not so bad. "What's your excuse for coming ill-prepared? I would expect the two of you to be competing to see who could kill more."

"You know how many times we've done that? It's the same result each time. She wins if we're using bows; I do if it's with guns and then she tells me there's no skill in it." Gilbert chuckled to himself, allowing himself to get lost in the memory momentarily. "Besides, you ever used one of her bows before?"

The look on Roderich's face said it all.

"Stupid question, sorry. Anyways, she has the fuckers drawn tighter than they have any right to be. I tried telling her that once – gently, God help me, I don't think I've ever been so careful with my words – and what does she do? She takes it as a personal challenge! An affront upon her capabilities! Forgive me for daring to think our Brünhilde might, for once in her life, want to go about things the easier way!" Gilbert shook his head in disbelief, still not quite over the event. "It didn't matter how many times I told her that that's how I string my bows, she still needed to bitch at me for half an hour. The damn woman is crazy enough to dig a tunnel through a mountain with her fingernails, just to prove she's the only one capable of such a thing."

Roderich laughed, a wicked feeling growing inside of him. "That's bad, but you are only with her for a 'measly' three days. What do you think the poor bastard who's with her the majority of the week goes through?"

Roderich couldn't see Gilbert's face due to the sunlight, but noticed how his grip on his reins tightened and his shoulders shook just slightly. "What imagining do I have to do? I've seen the worst." A soft laugh escaped him. "Your gossip better be good."

"Did you know she likes to garden?"

Gilbert hummed, mulling over that piece of news. "No, but that explains why she's always telling me I should improve the gardens back in Potsdam."

"She's right. I'm sorry Gilbert, but there is only so much room for trees, grass, and shrubbery. I understand that they're more practical, but the addition of flowers would really liven up the place." Roderich smirked at the glare he received. "You're only getting so upset because you know we're both right."

"Tell me the damn story without breaking my balls."

"As you wish," Roderich lowered his head in a mock bow, not bothering to hide his utter delight. He had to hand it to Gilbert, making oneself such a nuisance was indeed a pleasure. "A couple years ago, after we were in the Alps for one reason or another, Erzsébet had fallen so in love with the edelweiss there that she'd decided to plant some in our garden. I was encouraging in all her outdoor ventures except this one, I admit, as we live primarily in Vienna." He paused for good effect, dropping the tone of his voice so it was completely staid. "Edelweiss only grows in mountainous regions."

Gilbert snickered, taking in the lush forest that surrounded them. "What do you mean, Roddy? We're climbing a steep one right here in your backyard."

Roderich raised up his right hand. "Obviously, she didn't like that reality. In fact, she vehemently disagreed with it and me. Like you, I was very polite when I was informing her of this. I am aware of my flaws – the two of you bring them up enough for me to not be ignorant – but this is one instance where I truly believe I was not being condescending. From the way she had reacted, you would think I told her I did not believe birds could fly or that oxygen was fine to breathe. Suffice it to say, I was very smug that year when the damn flowers didn't grow."

"Why is she like this?" Gilbert rubbed the bridge of his nose, laughing all the while.

"Come on, we both know why. Like everything else, it's our fault!" They broke out into guffaws now, only calming down once their sides ached.

Wiping away a tear, Gilbert assessed his companion lazily. An idea was beginning to form. "You know, her hand is only strengthened when we're against each other."

Roderich gave him a look of sheer boredom. "It took you a century to come to that realization?"

"Shut up, I've always known it! The difference is that I'm only now beginning to tolerate you." Gilbert smirked, seeing the vision unveil itself in his mind. "It isn't fair she gets all the fun, that she gets to twist us this way and that. Saint Erzsébet isn't as righteous and just as she believes herself to be!"

Roderich's eyebrows shot up. It's not that he had never thought of such things – on the contrary, he had thought them quite often – but to hear it from this source was quite another. "Doesn't going against Erzsébet's wishes break one of your three principles?"

"It does – when she's right! Look, I wouldn't change her for the world but that doesn't make me a fool. She's petty, spiteful, and hellbent on revenge even if her cause isn't as fair as she believes it. You fuck up and she won't let you forget it, even when she really should! And that's fine, this is the life I've always wanted." Gilbert grinned now, one defined equally by its wickedness as by its manic exuberance. "Doesn't mean I won't pay her back in kind when I can."

Roderich blinked, mentally digesting this. All he could do was shake his head and stare up at the sky. "These courtship rituals you two have…Lord, they astound me. It was so much simpler with Antonio. Sex and jewelry got me so much further."

"You say that, but you're the one who invited himself along. Keep your cheap pride around everyone else, whatever, it's never gotten you very far anyway. But how can you be here with me today and act like you don't understand exactly what I'm saying?" Gilbert playfully elbowed him in the ribs. "You and I, we're in this mess together for as long as she wills it. May as well have some fun with it."

"Fine, I'll grant you that much. I'll stop feigning superiority in this whole mess. Now more than ever, we three are truly equally entangled. But I do find it odd that you're being so…mature about this whole situation."

"Roddy, we have a son together. I've gotten better about swallowing my pride when I have to." Gilbert's voice lowered and his gaze softened. He steered them off the main path through the woods and towards the faint sounds of running water. "Besides, you got the same conversation as me. If I want her in my life, I can't make things harder on her by continuing to act like a bastard. There's no indignity I wouldn't suffer for her; playing nice with you is the least of them."

There were so many words Roderich wanted to say, sentiments he needed to express that he didn't know where to begin. To commend Gilbert's dedication? No, that much he had always known. To thank him and promise him the same grace? No, too saccharine for either of them. All he could do was lamely open and close his mouth, grateful that Gilbert's attentions were now fixed squarely on the horizon.

Once by the spring he had been searching for, Gilbert quickly dismounted and began setting up their little corner of the world. He was a precise flurry of movements, throwing down a blanket one moment before rushing across the stream to grab some flowers the next. Whatever the vision was in his mind's eye, it appeared constant, compelling him to fix whatever he deemed lacking.

"Would you like a hand?" Roderich asked after rewarding their horses with a couple of sugar cubes.

The look Gilbert gave him was scathing. "Just mind the horses."

"There's the Gilbert I'm used to," Roderich mumbled to his horse, stroking her mane affectionately.

It was not soon after Gilbert finished his preparations that Erzsébet had appeared. It was her giggling they heard first, followed by the sound of hooves snapping twigs. Her horse leapt over a clumping of brushwood with such ease they appeared to be gliding through the air. The beast brought itself to a gentle halt before Roderich, nuzzling its nose into his neck. Erzsébet jumped down, the whole time her prized deer held safely in her hands, no need did she have for her reins. "You two are so lazy, always leaving the hard work to me. If I weren't so gracious, I'd have it so only Ludwig eats tonight."

Gilbert stood before her, bemused expression on his face and the bouquet of wildflowers extended towards her. "You're more than capable and someone had to make sure we would be comfortable. Or am I still good-for-nothing?"

She took the flowers, burying her nose into their petals. Their beauty laid not only in their appearance, but in their delicate fragrance. She rocked up on her toes and met Gilbert's lips in a kiss. "You've earned your keep for the day." She handed him the dead deer with a smirk. "Doesn't mean you're getting out of dressing it though."

Gilbert stared down at the animal in his hands and groaned. "Right now? Can't I eat first?"

"You know as well as I do that it's better to do this as soon as possible. Unless you want to eat shit meat then-"

"Erzsébet, give the man a break. He went through the trouble of making all this look nice, you could grant him the minor pleasure of enjoying his labors before sending him off to a new one." Roderich stepped forward, his eyes lit up with the beginning of a laugh. "I doubt the poor thing begins to spoil as quickly as you're making it seem."

"They don't," Gilbert added, the corners of his mouth curling up. "We have plenty of time."

Erzsébet looked between them both for a moment. The air of comradery between them was disorienting. A miracle had occurred, one she was not yet privy to. One that Napoleon nor Ludwig could have inspired to bring about. What had happened while she was hunting? "Fine," she spoke, her voice dripping with caution. "It can wait till after."

Roderich had not realized how famished he was until he saw the spread of food laid out before them. An assortment of cheeses and bread rolls, grapes so round they appeared ready to burst, thin slices of meat prepared in the Italian style. Not to mention the vintage wine that had been smuggled out from his cellar, though he hardly found it in his heart to care about the theft. They had a whole feast prepared for themselves and Roderich thanked the universe that he was the lucky bastard who had weaseled in on it.

He laid with his head on the blanket, popping grape after grape into his mouth carelessly. The clouds moved lethargically across the sky, bloated and blocking out the harshness of the sun. He sat his head up, managing to sip his glass of wine without spilling any, and enjoyed the warmth radiating from the world. He was blessed – or cursed, depending on the mood – with immortal life and how did he spend it? Running from palace to palace, throwing whatever elbows he could so some stupid mortal would maybe consider his plans. A fool's errand, it all seemed now. Perhaps he should work less. Weren't Antonio and Erzsébet always telling him so?

The name of his wife floating through his mind snapped him back to the present. He craned his head over towards her, finding her head nestled against Gilbert's shoulder as he alternated between feeding them both bites of prosciutto. Roderich cleared his throat, easing their attentions onto him before speaking. "Why does he need to…do whatever it is to the deer? Shouldn't all the glory go to you?"

"Because Brünhilde doesn't have the patience to do the job right. She hacks and saws through the thing until you can't even recognize what animal you started with." Gilbert kissed the spot where her eyebrows had creased together. "Glare all you want, it doesn't change the truth."

"I have the patience! I have so much patience, I don't even know what to do with it!" Erzsébet huffed, scrunching her lips up into a pout. "You do it because I can't stand to hear another fucking lecture on the proper technique for the umpteenth time! You have your way of doing things, I have mine, and there's nothing wrong with that!"

Gilbert bit his lip with a smirk, exhaling loudly through his nose. "Last time I let her do this, she somehow managed to have the stag's intestines explode. The stag we had been chasing after all day-"

"Four hundred years ago! Four hundred fucking years ago! Bring up something recent!" Erzsébet interjected, throwing her hands up at the sky.

Roderich turned his head away, taking a bite out of the sandwich he'd crafted for himself. "Forget I ever asked."

"So, Ludwig huh?" Erzsébet's voice was sweetness with a twinge of still-lingering frustrations. "I've been thinking-"

"Erzsi, bitte," Gilbert whined.

"-he's only getting older, you know. How much longer can you keep him shunted off to the side? From everything I've seen and everything you tell me, his interest only grows." She shrugged, tossing her head to the side in a practiced show of indifference. "Oh well, what do I know? Certainly not that we were running our own states by his age, no busybody keeping us chained on a leash."

The whole time she spoke, Gilbert was busy plucking blades of grass from the ground and tying them together. "I don't keep Ludwig on a leash."

Roderich almost choked on his wine. He sat up, sputtering. "You kept him in Berlin!"

Gilbert looked between them both with disgust. "He's never fought before! Did you want me to throw him to you two starving wolves?"

"Obviously not, don't be obtuse." Erzsébet spoke, giving Roderich a look of warning. "He shouldn't have fought, but he should have been there. He should have been involved against the Danes. He's more intelligent than you give him credit for, he's not going to blindly follow you off a cliff forever!"

Her words fell across Gilbert like a slap. "The hell does that mean?"

"It means he's going to continue to ask questions, better questions, and you better start having some good answers." Erzsébet didn't bother to look at him, reaching over to break off a branch of grapes for herself. "And when you come up with some, you better tell me too. It's getting harder to lie for you these days."

"Precisely why I've given up on it. So long as you answer Ludwig's questions with cryptic nothingness, he feels he's gotten a lot more out of you than he actually has." Roderich gave a contented half-smile. "Gets you far when dealing with other people too, might I add."

Gilbert chewed on the inside of his cheek, breathing slowly to keep himself composed. "I'm doing my best, what more do you both want from me? To give him the whole keys to the kingdom? I am the one with the experience; I am the one who has put his blood, toil, and sweat into building everything for our betterment. Every achievement, every victory, every milestone – me! Forgive me for not wanting to hand it all over to a child!"

Roderich looked at him askance. "Where are you getting the ridiculous notion that we are asking you to step aside?"

At his silence, Erzsébet took Gilbert's hand in hers. "No one is against you in this, not really. But there will be a time when Ludwig is a grown man. None of us were as fortunate as he is to have three adults who love him, who are doing their best to care for him. Roderich and I, we just want him to be able to stand on his own without having to rely on you forever." She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "This fatalism you have towards Ludwig, it's unnecessary. He looks up to you like a god. He would never do anything to bring you harm."

Gilbert looked between their faces and found only misguided compassion. He wanted to tear himself apart, to make them see what he's long begged them to see, but knew it was for naught. What good would it do them all anyways? He loved Ludwig as much as, if not more, than they did. If his own survival was Gilbert's first priority, Ludwig competed with Erzsébet as his second.

He repressed his sullenness, summoning forth some of the good cheer expected of him. It almost convinced him. "Damn, do I hate when you're both right." Their chuckles were a good sign of progress. "I've been letting all the stress of the last few years get to me. He needs to learn and I won't be around forever to clean up all his messes. I could see about involving him in some secretarial matters. That should satisfy him to start."

The relief on Erzsébet's face was clear as day. "Thank you. All he wants is the chance to prove himself to you." She kissed his jawline, the crackles of mirth lighting up her eyes. "You weren't so different from him at that age, need I remind you."

"Mm, I remember." He did not add that that's precisely what terrified him so. He rose, gently extrapolating himself from his lover. "Now, let me deal with that deer of yours."

Roderich frowned at his empty wine glass and picked up the bottle. There was hardly any left, the effort expended in pouring would be wasted. He removed the cork and took his swig, passing the bottle to an amused Erzsébet. "We should do them both a favor and have Ludwig stay with us for a month."

Erzsébet wiped away the wine that had splattered onto her cheek with her sleeve, giggling at the affectionately disapproving look she'd received. "Definitely, but we've got him wound up tight enough as it is. Though, I'm surprised you mentioned that before I got to."

The alcohol prevented him from hiding his hurt in time. "Why? He's as dear to me as anything."

"I'm not doubting how much you love him." She drummed her fingers against the tops of her thighs. "I'm not used to you being so responsive, that's all."

There was something he couldn't begrudge her. His smile was soft, his eyes squinting just so. "Can a man not attempt to change for the betterment of those he loves?" He leaned back on the flats of his hands. "By some miracle, I'm still part of the boy's life. Until I can't, I'll take advantage of that privilege."

"It wasn't exactly a miracle." Erzsébet laid her head down in his lap, smiling all the while up at him. "I'll tell you because his pride will never allow it. The first thing Ludwig asked Gil when he came home was if that meant he could see us again that weekend. The reasons he had to say 'no' were all petty and spiteful. For once, he didn't feel the need to be a sore winner."

Roderich snorted. "He can afford to be humble when he trounces me."

Her emerald eyes bored through his soul. "Are you such a solipsist that you think you're the only one capable of improving upon himself?"

"No, of course not." He tucked a wayward strand of hair back behind her ear. "But I think I've more than earned the right to be wary of his motives – and, to be fair, as has he with mine. The minute we begin to trust each other fully is the minute you should begin to enquire into our mental fortitude." He paused, letting a smile fall free. "You think he meant what he said?"

"I wouldn't have told you otherwise."

Roderich mulled that over, trying to fit this latest bit of information with his perceptions of Gilbert. He could scarcely sketch a consistent picture of the man these days, with all his contradictions and pivoting to seize whatever opportunities presented themselves. "You, my dear, surround yourself with the strangest menagerie of people."

Erzsébet rolled her eyes up at him, a good-natured smile on her face all the while. "I think the company I keep is just fine."

"Feliks and Gilbert aren't exactly what I would classify as fine company."

"Well I'm sorry we all can't get off on discussing the trivialities of art and culture with Francis and Arthur, while cataloguing every little thing they say in the hopes it'll lead to their downfall! Us simpler folk prefer to not think we're superior just because we can afford a night at the opera when we choose." She smiled, her chest growing warm. "Besides, what do I care for appearances when it's the character that matters? Feliks answers to no master but himself and is one of the bravest people I've ever known for it. Gil has his own internal logic, but once you've grown attuned to it, he's surprisingly rational."

Roderich snorted, the ends of lips curling up. "That's the best you have to say on him?"

"No, I could wax poetic about Gilbert all day. But I'm trying to be considerate of your feelings." Her gaze held his own. The depths of her eyes were warm and inviting. "Though speaking of you, you fit into the menagerie as well. You've never been as normal as you've liked to delude yourself."

He still found himself unused to her no longer provoking his jealousy. It was not an unwelcome relief, but a foreign one. Still, not wanting to dissuade her from such future kindnesses, he graced her lips with a tender kiss. "I don't know what you mean in the slightest. I don't have any sorts of quirks or oddities. I'm perfectly staid and typical. It's a wonder such a vivacious woman puts up with me."

Her laughter was warm against his skin. "It really is a wonder. Somehow you make it worth my while."

"'Somehow?' You tease, surely you can give me some inkling." He'd pulled her so she was sitting up in his lap now, a languid trail of kisses left along her neck.

"Like I'd give you the satisfaction," she purred. Still, Erzsébet did not think herself an unreasonable person. She angled her head to the side, providing him with better access to the most sensitive regions of her neck. "You'll have to work harder than that."

He hummed, enjoying the feel of her hands tangled in his hair. "You are a cruel mistress. How many lifetimes spent on our knees must we endure for your benediction?"

Her teeth tugged on his bottom lip, with enough force that the pain was pleasurable. "As many as I see fit."

Now here was a sight Gilbert had stumbled upon. The intemperance of his youth bid him to stage a scene, to make his presence known and correct what was surely a disturbance in the world. A fun return to form it would be, never mind the repercussions he would face for it.

No, such actions would be too foolhardy even for him, but that did not mean he couldn't enjoy himself. Gilbert shifted the deer so it sat around his neck, positioning it so its weight was best evenly distributed. Each step he took was measured and methodical. No crinkling of grass, no breaking of branches. He would not give Roderich the chance to hear him coming.

He was not as stealthy as he thought. Erzsébet's eyes snapped up to him, a question in them. He winked and pressed his finger to his lips. All she needed to do was keep him distracted, not that she appeared to have much difficulty there, even with half her mind elsewhere. All the better, from Gilbert's angle, it appeared Roderich's eyes were closed. His prey had lost itself in the fog of delirium.

"Is it my turn yet?" Gilbert's mouth was so close to Roderich's ear, he could feel the shiver that went down the other man's spine.

Roderich screamed and leapt away from his potential assailant. He could feel his heart beating in his throat at a dangerous pace. His breathing was ragged as he calmed himself down. He glared between Erzsébet and Gilbert, who were in stitches at his plight. "You two are the worst."

Gilbert waved him off, going over to Erzsébet's horse to fit the deer on. "We should head back; sun looks like it's about to start setting."

…

What a day it had been. Roderich stretched, straining his arms up towards the heavens and sighed from the effort. It had been a long day and home had never looked so inviting. As he walked up the front steps, he knew tonight's slumber would come easy.

It was Erzsébet who gave voice to the sentiment lingering within his heart. "That was actually nice. We should do that again."

"But not too often," Gilbert quickly added, bumping his shoulder into hers. He winked at Roderich, his mouth a toothy grin. "Though next time I get to hijack one of your dates. See how you like it."

"Well, if it's the nature of fairness, I suppose I can't argue with that," Roderich chuckled. "If you give me some sort of warning, I could make sure it's an opera you may have some interest in."

Gilbert tapped his finger to his chin before nodding. "I like a good tragedy."

Erzsébet hummed to herself, allowing her mind to drift away from their conversation. Today had been better than she could have ever expected, would have ever dreamed. She glanced between them, standing on opposite sides of her, and smiled. Perhaps peace and stability were not as unobtainable for them as she had once believed.