Chapter III

"-So, we're going to raise the taxes." Alfred ignored the mumbles of shock and protest around the table and continue, "Raise the taxes of the upper class aristocrats, and distribute that share amongst the people of the lower towns." Of course, he had expected the court to be against this motion of him, most of them being lords and earls and people of rather high status themselves. But he was King now, and he wasn't going to let a few old rich men stop him from doing good for the rest of the Kingdom.

He looked earnestly around the room, "It won't be permanent, just enough to support their living standard until they manage to-"

Next to him, the sound of a chair dragging. "If you would excuse us for a moment." Arthur stood up, straightening out the creases in his darker blue coat, "I believe the King has had a temporary moment of confusion."

Alfred stared at Arthur, blankly aghast. "What? I'm not confused! I'm being extremely serious here!"

"Yes, yes, of course you are." Alfred didn't miss the slight roll of Arthur's eyes when he said that.

"Arthur, I-"

"We'll be back immediately." Arthur flashed a smile at the rest of the members of the court, who looked significantly relieved at the Queen's interference. He headed for the door, turning over his shoulder to give Alfred a look before heading out.

The rest of the court turned to Alfred expectantly.

"Uhm-" Alfred swallowed, then cracked into a sheepish grin. "What he said." Then he turned on his heels, cheeks tingling with the frustrated red of an insulted child, and tried his best not to slam the door behind him.

"What-" Alfred nearly spat out, "- was that?"

"That was you being a complete idiot." Arthur scowled back, crossing his arms across his chest.

"You didn't need to interrupt me in the middle of the Court! If you had something against my motion we could always talk about it after-"

"After you've made a complete fool of yourself?" Arthur let out a frustrated sigh, shifting his weight from one foot to another, clearly getting more irritated as the seconds ticked past. "What the hell was that? Do you even call that a proposal? You said you were going to think it through carefully when we talked about this last night!"

"And I did! The upper class have enough money anyway, and all they're doing with it is spending all of it on things they don't really need! It's better for us to put all that money to better use by giving it to the poor who need it!"

He had honestly expected Arthur to shoot back almost immediately, but the surprising silence that followed was by far more unnerving than the retort he had expected. Arthur simply stared at him, green eyes all shades of condescending and Oh, god, I thought you were a pathetic sod but you are worse than that aren't you?

"What is it!" Alfred gritted out, "Look, if you've got anything against the proposal-"

"The fact that I need to point out what is wrong with your stupid plan is ridiculous in the first place!" Arthur snapped, tapping the toe of his sole against the plush carpet, "You are going to lose all the support from the upper classes with this one movement. All of it. And out of all the people in this Kingdom they are probably the only ones who are still in favour of you before you go and ruin it!"

"Who cares about them! They're just petty snobs who-"

"And," Arthur continued, voice rising in volume to drown out Alfred's loud protest, "You aren't going to just solve poverty by giving people money! They're going to end up being dependent on government aid-"

"They won't! They just need the money to get out of their current situation! After that they'll-"

"They'll wait for you to give them more money or revolt, you stupid dolt!" Arthur exhaled sharply at that, rubbing at his temples with his fingers and muttering something under his breath about how in the world a child was supposed to be King, and Alfred felt the pent up frustration at his queen from the past week expanding in the depths of his chest and stomach; a prickly, sludgy mess.

"You are not solving the issue at hand with a movement like this! You are merely attempting to alleviate the temporary effects-"

"But I can't let them wait any longer-"

"So you decide not to solve the problem? Alfred, for god's sake, you are no longer a child so learn how to gain some insight on how things work on a larger scale!"

"But I-"

"Your current proposal is merely a kid's attempt at ignoring the real problem-"

"BUT I'M THE KING!"

That, Alfred thought to himself belatedly, wasn't supposed to come out sounding like that.

"A-and this decision isn't bad-" He deflated slightly, regretting his outburst. Even to him that had sounded bad. Like a child, his inner voice said snidely, voice dripping with venom.

"It's terrible." Arthur cut in, coldly. "And if you're going to try and be King I'd suggest you learn how to think properly first." He turned away, walking back to the conference room, "Before you make a fool of yourself, we're going with my proposal."

"Your- your what?" Alfred grabbed at Arthur's sleeve, "What proposal, we never talked about-" His hand was shrugged off.

"A better one." Arthur didn't even bother to look at him for the rest of the day.

"He's ignoring me." Alfred mumbled into the pile of paperwork sitting on his desk. "It's been an entire week and his stupid proposals have been approved and he's still not talking to me!"

"From what you told me he has good reason to." Matthew sighed, placing a new stack of papers onto Alfred's desk. "And eh, these papers need your signature too, so-"

"But still!" Alfred pushed himself upright with both palms, "He's running the entire Kingdom without telling me a single thing-"

"... and doing a very good job," his twin threw in casually. Alfred shot him a look.

"Not the point! I-I mean, all I've been doing this entire week was to sign papers that he has already gone through! I'm not making any decisions! A-and the court's not telling me anything either, and i-it's like-" Alfred exhaled, pouting, "... It's like he's treating me like a kid. I mean, all the information goes straight to him, all the decisions are made by him-"

Knock knock.

"Your highness."

"Yes?" Alfred ignored Matthew's look of complete sympathy when he had nearly jumped out of his chair at the knock on the door. "Come in!"

"I bring news from the other advisors, your highness." If he was slightly shocked by the sheer enthusiasm radiating from Alfred's earnest face, the messenger didn't show it.

"Oh. Oh yeah! Go on!" Alfred ignored Matthew's pointed sigh. "What about?"

"The waterways are currently undergoing maintainence as you have required, sire, along with the construction of new wells. Most of the citizens who have the capability to work in the lower towns have been allocated new jobs."

"Oh." Alfred shrunk back a little in his chair. Arthur's proposal, he thought to himself glumly. He didn't even get to hear about said proposal if not for Matthew coming into his room with new updates here and there. The Queen had requested for an all out repair-maintain-rebuild project in the lower towns, targeted at the faulty waterways and filter systems in the various factories. Buildings and structures were being checked for bad plumbing or crumbling foundation, and those that had problems were marked for repair work. The manpower, he had insisted, would come from any of the unemployed men from the lower towns.

According to Matthew, Arthur had insisted that all the men had signed proper contracts, and was strictly regulating their working conditions as well.

"It's working miracles with the people in the lower towns," Matthew had told him. "It's hard work, but most of them are happy that they have work and a stable income now. Much better than the situation they were previously in."

It wasn't as if he didn't want to admit that Arthur was capable. The Time Mage was the epitome of efficiency and practicality, and, judging from what he had heard from Matthew, extremely competent in problem solving as well. Alfred had no problems acknowledging that. He respected Arthur a lot, and one could almost say he admired him. (If he were any younger, Arthur would have probably qualified as a hero; but of course, now that he was older-)

But at the same time it made him question himself: What the hell was he doing then, as King? Sign papers? Wasn't that almost as if he was some approval machine that Arthur simply fed papers through? He had responsibility for the Kingdom too. He didn't want to get shoved off to one side, patronized and handled and dealt with like a kid, he wanted to know more, learn more, do something-

Do something like he had promised that girl in that alleyway, so many nights ago.

"-and there has been news about an illness going around in the lower towns, but we believe that it is most likely just due to the general lack of hygiene there. Surely after the rest of the town is rebuilt the illness would-"

"Illness?" Alfred was snapped out of his thoughts. "What type of illness?"

The messenger paused for a moment.

Oh, Alfred thought to himself at the moment, sudden clarity in his head, He doesn't know.

"It's nothing serious, your highness." The messenger smiled a shaky smile. "Something like the common cold, if I'm not wrong."

He doesn't know. The thought was loud in his head. It repeated itself, even after the messenger had bowed and taken his leave. He doesn't know, and if I listen to him - them, any of them here - I won't ever know.

Or perhaps- Another voice sounded in his head, suddenly wary and slightly worried - perhaps they think that I can't take it? That I don't need to know?

Was Arthur already solving this problem now? What would he suggest? Did he know what the illness was? Was he the one who told the messenger to brush Alfred aside? Just give him some details that would hopefully satisfy him and shut him up for a while?

"Alfred?" Matthew's worried voice sounded from his side. "Are you alright?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Just too much signing of papers y'know. It's repetitive and boring and all that." Alfred tried a careless shrug, waving Matthew's concern off. He knew from the look on his brother's face that he didn't buy it at all, but then again it was Matthew, and there just wasn't anything he could do about that could he? "Anyway shouldn't you be going off? I swear you're probably busier than me, geesh."

Matthew continued to stand there, the look on his face skeptical of Alfred's current facade.

"Mattie, seriously! Go do your work! I need to-" Alfred turned back to his desk, "... Sign papers!"

"... Well... Alright then." Matthew was frowning as he walked over to the door. "Al?"

"Mmhm?"

"Don't-" he paused, trying to find a suitable word or phrase, "Don't do anything stupid."

"What, like knock my ink pot over all these papers?" Alfred rolled his eyes. "It's not like I can do anything stupid when all I have to do is sign."

That seemed to finally convince Matthew, and the door clicked shut behind him.

"Y-Your highness! Please, open the door! Even if you do not wish to eat, you must at least drink something!"

"A-Alfred," a second voice tried, "we-"

There was a resounding solid smack, much like a hit to the head, echoing, before the first voice was brought down to a harsh whisper. "What are you doing, calling the King by his first name?"

"W-Well the King always hates it when we call him 'your highness'- You know how he is, asking us to call him by his first name, so I just thought..."

"Ugh, he is... Peculiar like that, I suppose. But he never misses lunch, what if-"

"What is the problem?" Arthur asked, walking down the hallway. He had been on his way to Alfred's rooms, to get his signature for a few documents. As much as his newfound status as Queen opened many doors for him (literally - he was still unused to having the servants bow and aid him along his every step), some things still required the King's touch.

Even if he is a petulant child, Arthur thought to himself.

The two servants, one middle-aged woman and a younger boy, turned towards Arthur's voice, startled, as they bowed to him. "Your highness," they murmured.

Arthur nodded at them, eyeing the tray of steak and potatoes in the younger boy's hands. "Is that for the King?" he asked.

"Yes, your highness," the woman answered, biting her lip. "It is the King's lunch."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Lunch? But it's almost four in the afternoon." He paused, considering, his eyebrows drawing up a taut line. "Is the King refusing food?"

The boy servant shuffled his feet, hesitant. "He hasn't been answering us, my Queen. We've been at the door for almost an hour, and he hasn't made a sound." He looked up at Arthur, almost apologetically, as if Alfred's petulance was his own fault. "We came by the hour before that, and there was no answer then either. We- We thought he might've been busy with work, and didn't want to be bothered but..." Arthur snorted at the idea of Alfred rejecting food for work. He didn't seem to have that kind of work ethic in him, or so Arthur thought.

"But the King has never refused food before," the boy finished, glancing for an affirmation at the older woman, who nodded.

"Never," she confirmed. "Even as a young boy he'd come runnin' back at dinner and lunch, unless-" Worry clouded her face. "-Unless something happened to him," she muttered.

Arthur barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. Alfred was stuck doing paperwork for the entire afternoon, or so Matthew had informed him. Locked in a room, with a fountain pen, inkwell, and the most mundane of papers, how on earth Alfred could have gotten into trouble with the most boring of jobs was completely-

Oh.

Arthur could feel his face cloud over, as he rummaged around his pockets for the master-key he was given as a Queen.

Surely, he thought to himself, getting more irritated with every passing second, surely he wouldn't be that irresponsible as to-

The door slid open smoothly, to reveal an empty room. The stack of papers which had been on the desk were scattered all over the room, and what was left of it fluttered tentatively on the table, by the breeze let in from the open window.

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment, the master-key digging into his clenched fist.

"Y-Your highness," the servants stepped through the open door behind him, taking in the sight of the room. "What-"

"The King," Arthur bit out, between gritted teeth, "will be right back."

It was all considerably dramatic, with Arthur's coat billowing out behind him as he strode - stormed - down the cobbled streets of the lower towns. Townspeople who caught sight of the royal-blue of Arthur's robes stuck their heads out to stare at their new Queen. Their new Queen, who was furiously striding down the streets, barely holding himself back from openly grinding his teeth at the thought of Alfred.

He knew where Alfred would be, but the Lower Towns were buzzing with people and noise, and even though most of the crowd had the right mind to move out of the way for a rather murderous looking Royalty it didn't make the task of searching for Alfred (most probably in his civilian clothes) much easier.

That child, his mind kept repeating. That utter child.

Arthur (on hindsight, against his better judgment) had expected so much more from Alfred.

Arthur had known Alphonsus since he was a teen - around the same age as Alfred was now - and as hard-headed as Alphonsus could be, Arthur was pretty sure that even he didn't dare pull a stunt like this.

Git, Arthur swore in his head. Childish, stupid git who runs out by himself without a sodding guard, even after what happened that last time and seriously, it hasn't even been a bloody week and he forgot?

And it's not as if he's free to just- gallivant about as he pleases; he's the King now, he should know that he has his responsibilities and duty to his title and name, good god, what was he thinking? Was he even thinking at all?

If Arthur's opinion of Alfred and his sensibilities weren't low enough after That Incident with Alfred's apparent ideas for addressing poverty, they hit a new low now, when he had to roam the streets to find the sodding King who had run out of the castle in a childish attempt at escapism.

Git. Utter git, Arthur's mind seethed, as he kicked a stray pebble to skitter across the cobbled roads. I should not have to act as his nanny of all things, Arthur thought. The idea, linked to the memories of more than a decade ago before The Great Movement, repulsed him in so many ways; ways which he didn't want to examine too carefully. Days in the palace, with Alphonsus and Mathilda (the Queen then, wife to Alphonsus and mother to Matthew and Alfred), before war and misery hit. Before the Kingdom began to fall apart under the still, accusing, finger of Aequitas. Days when The Royal Guard was just a fancy title and position, a name to a job of watching the two young princes play in the gardens, of a kind of distanced happiness which Arthur became used to (- shouldn't have gotten used to).

And Alfred's actual youth suddenly hit him like a punch to a gut. Nineteen, Arthur double checked, counting the years gone past, and good god, King already. Alphonsus hadn't even gotten his own issues straight at that age, and the Kingdom wasn't even in this state-

It wasn't as if he had no sympathy for the current situation Alfred was in, Arthur realised (albeit a little belatedly); it was a difficult situation to deal with even for an experienced King, let alone someone who was shoved onto the throne suddenly.

But- the voice in his head continued, anger and rage and pure annoyance radiating from deep in his stomach, That doesn't mean that he can just shrug off responsibility like that and not bother to-

"So you're sure it's been about two years?"

Arthur automatically turned to the sound of Alfred's voice, an alley away. There, dressed in the same clothes which he wore on his previous escapade out of the castle, a newsboy cap that obscured half of his facial features in its shadow, was said King Arthur had been fuming about for the past hour or so. He was talking to a middle-aged woman - a shop keeper, presumably, with her apron greased and grey - standing with her hip cocked against the doorframe.

"Well," she frowns, "it's been about that long since my Katie had started having stomach problems." The woman sighs, running a hand through her short, curled hair, tugging at it frustratedly. "Y'know how Kate can be, running around with all them boys, gettin' into god knows what- The doctors don't know what's wrong with her," she muttered. "She's- She's okay now but he said that if it continues..."

Alfred hesitated, before putting an arm around the older woman. "I'm sorry, Mrs Waters. I'm sure Katie will be fine. We'll- I'll-" Alfred paused, biting his lip. "I'll ask around to see if anyone knows of a cure or something."

Mrs Waters gave a wavering laugh, more than a little affected. "You can try, sweetie," she patted Alfred on the back. "But we've been looking for a reason for years and..." She shrugged, with the kind of reluctant acceptance that only came with time,

"And nothing."

Arthur watched Alfred's back tighten, as he straightened a little in what seemed to be determination.

"We'll find it!" He declared, turning to face Mrs Waters. "I swear we will! Not just for Katie, for all those other people who are falling sick too- I just asked Mr Lancaster down Oaken Bend whose mother is sick too and-" His face steeled itself, jaw clenching in a subtle tightening of facial muscles,

"And we'll find a cure. I swear."

Mrs Waters' face softened, patting at Alfred's shoulder again, albeit slightly patronizingly. "I'm sure you will, Alex," she smiled, eyes soft around the edges at this boy who wanted to save the lower district, who was so confident that he could, but Arthur was pretty sure that she was thinking that he was just a boy, just another boy who lived around the corner and couldn't possibly do anything of that scale.

And Arthur realized that she was wrong, on all counts.

"You're looking for more information, yes?" she asked, cocking her head slightly. "The Schivers from down the road- You know, the ones who run that metalwork shop?- could help you, maybe. I heard that old Tony's wife was having skin problems or something like that- Jon-something?"

"Jaundice?" Alfred asked.

"Ah yes, maybe that. But Tony was saying something about some other problems too so..." She sighed again, rubbing at her face. "Don't know. Sorry, love."

"No, no, don't apologize," Alfred scrambled, eyes wide. "You've helped a ton already, thanks," he grinned.

Mrs Waters smiled back at him. "So you'll come by when I've baked a new batch then? Seeing as that's the only time I ever see you," she joked, walking back into the shop.

Alfred laughed, rubbing at the back of his head. "Aw, shucks, I come by more often than that!"

"You have other things to do, I know," she smiled, pinching at his cheeks. "Probably out chasin' skirts or something, aren't you!" Alfred laughed again, easy and light, as if it were the truth.

"No m'am! I'm gonna save the Kingdom!"

"You go do that then!" Mrs Waters shouted, from inside the shop.

Arthur spent the next few hours tailing Alfred, mentally cursing himself for not throwing on his cloak first before coming out, because god knows how terribly difficult it was to tail someone when everyone stopped and turned to look at you because of the clothes you were wearing. He stopped to buy a grey cloak which he threw over his jarring robes, and glared very hard at the shopkeepers in case they tried to ask him any difficult questions to answer. It was considerably easier to follow behind Alfred after that, the hood of the cloak pulled low over his head just in case ("Those eyebrows! It's the Queen isn't it!").

Alfred went from house to house, workshop to workshop, talking to smiths and mechanics and various shopkeepers and owners. The number of people ill was alarming, Arthur had to admit. The reports that reached him had mentioned several cases of illnesses that had the doctors puzzled, but they lacked in details, and the number tallied was definitely much less than the numbers that came out of Alfred's rounds on foot. Arthur had only managed to deduce that there was a chance that it was due to the poor living conditions, which he was trying to improve in the first place.

"So, anything?"

Alfred's final stop was a workshop along the outskirts of the Lower Town. The sun was setting, shop owners were packing up and businesses were closing down. The crowd had more or less dispersed, and Arthur only dared to close the distance after he was convinced that Alfred wasn't interested in anything else other than the cup of hot chocolate in his hands and the two young men in front of him.

"Everything." Alfred made a face, sipping from the cup as he waved his free hand around in the air, "There's just too much. It's springing up everywhere. Some of the more common problems are skin infections, stomach problems and throwing up... but then there are the people who have really high fever and are slightly delirious. Someone's gone blind, and a few others have reported coughing up blood." He leaned back against the wooden work table behind him, "I mean, I dunno. They all work in different places, go to different places, eat different things... I can't think up anything that links them up other than the fact that they're sick!"

"Well," the black-haired male who had asked Alfred the question in the first place crossed his arms across his chest, "that means we should try to ask a different question. We've not heard about this affecting anywhere else other than the Lower Towns, so, conspiracy theories put to one side, what makes the Lower Town special?"

"Errr..." Alfred scrunched his face up, "I dunno. It's on the outskirts of the city center? So you guys are closer to the fields. Maybe it's something from the outside or something."

"I don't think so," the blonde next to Alfred piped in, chewing on a mouthful of bread. He swallowed, "I went around just now, since Al asked. Checked with a few of the farmers who live out there. They're fine."

"Could be something that spreads through a host-carrier. Maybe bugs or rats. We've got a lot of those." The black-haired male gave a shrug of his shoulders and leaned back in the chair that he was seated in.

"Nope. Merchants from the higher estates come here quite often to exchange goods and sell stuff. If it's that it should at least have affected one or two of them."

"Or they got lucky," Alfred supplied helpfully. "Sometimes it's like that?"

"A little too lucky to completely not get affected by it. You're fine too aren't you? And you came down pretty much twice a week before you got crowned King." Leaning back further in his seat, the man tapped his foot irritably against the wooden floor of the workshop, "It's something that managed to be contained within the Lower Town. Prolonged exposure, let's say. Can't be something airborne because that can't be contained this well."

"- Well..." Alfred scrunched his face up further. Then he paused. "Well!"

"Well what?"

"No no, I don't mean that well! I mean... you know-"

"Will." The other man seemed to get it, leaping out of his seat and running over to rummage around in the nearby drawers. He pulled out a rolled up scroll of paper, spreading it across the table in front of them. "The wells. Which ones are the ones that we get our water from."

Will's eyes widened in surprise. "Geesh Al! Didn't know you were that smart! I mean, I totally expected Josh to get it before you but-"

"The wells, Will."

"... Yessir."

Arthur watched, rather impressed, as the three young men gathered around the map, marking out various locations on the map and absorbed in heated discussion. Wells. That made sense. The Lower Town got their water from a few wells around the area, but if he didn't remember wrongly, all of them came from the same source. The higher estates got their water through the plumbing system, which was pumped in from a different river.

Which means, Arthur dragged out a mental map of the Spades Kingdom, the problem area would be-

"Aha!" came the triumphant exclamation as Alfred slammed his cup down rather conclusively onto the table. "All the wells come from here!" He pointed to an area on the map.

Factory area, Arthur's mind piped in, recognizing the direction Alfred was pointing at. It was where all the heavier industries were located. He had not been in the Kingdom when they were built, but it was all over the Diamond Kingdom, which had been affected by the air and water pollution generated from the factories that churned out all the advanced technology and war machines that Alphonsus had poured the Kingdom's money into.

"Water pollution." Josh snorted, as Alfred spat the hot chocolate out onto the floor. Will frowned at him disapprovingly, as Josh continued. "As if we weren't aware of that. Must be something that managed to bypass the filter system." He eyed the hot chocolate on the workshop floor. "And relax, from what it seems, it takes a long time for the water to actually culminate in illnesses like what we see today."

"Could be a faulty filter system too," Alfred muttered, wiping at his mouth. "Read about something like that in one of the papers Arthur had me sign. We're fixing that now, but the damage has probably been done already."

Huh. So the git was reading what I've passed him?

Alfred put the cup down, rubbing at his face with both hands. "There are hundreds of people in the lower districts with this illness now. That means hundreds who can't work, can't earn a living through the development projects and-"

Josh and Will watched him, as his words cut off of his own accord.

"Al?" Will asked, a hand coming up to rest at Alfred's shoulder.

"I have to go," Alfred blurted, looking up. "Look, thanks for all your help, sorry I can't pay you guys for your time or anything but-"

"Aw what," grinned Will. "It was fun. Not much chance to go out to the country usually, not with Josh refusing to be at the front of the store and-"

"The maps," Josh cut in, handing Alfred the rolled up parchments, rolling his eyes at Will. "You'd probably have your own as King, but these mark out the areas which we've surveyed today so..."

"Yeah, thanks Josh," Alfred grinned, picking them up. He waved his free hand at the spilled hot chocolate, "sorry about that, do you want me to-"

"Nah, go about your Kingly duties now, and stop bothering with us common folk," Will laughed, picking up a mop. "The press would have a field day: KING MOPS WORKSHOP FLOOR," he joked, as Josh cracked a grin as well.

Alfred laughed, stepping over the mess, clutching all the rolls of paper. "Thanks again guys!" He shouted, before running out of the shop, up the sloping hill, back to the castle.

Arthur, slightly dazed by the day's events and findings and Alfred, follows him back, albeit at a slower pace.

Well, he thought. That... Changes things a little, he told himself. Just a little.

A/N:
So there's chapter three! We have new reference sketches of Alphonsus and Mathilda (Alfred and Matthew's parents, the old King and Queen) on our Tumblr now, so please take a look at Hika's pretty sketches! 8D

Thanks for reading again! We know our updates are a little more plot-based/centric than what we're used to writing, but we still hope you guys enjoy them! Comments and concrit are always loved and welcomed.