-Arthur's POV-
When we finally got home, our brothers seemed like something was wrong.
"Arthur what happened to your arm?" Alfred asked, blushing.
"Horse accident," I replied. "What are you blushing for?"
"NO REASON!" they both cried simultaneously.
"O-okay then." I knew something was up, and I was determined to find out. But then Francis took my good arm and brought me up to his large bedroom.
As we walked by the meeting room of the two kings, we heard a lot of banging and arguing. Francis didn't seem to be concerned, so I just followed him.
"Is your arm feeling better?" he questioned.
"Not really," I said sadly.
He pulled me into a hug, just as our fathers entered his room. We didn't notice until the shouting began.
"Release my son!" my father yelled.
"WHAT THE (choice word) ARY YOU TWO DOING!" Francis' father screamed at us.
Francis pulled back, blushing.
King of France: "Don't you dare blush! This is no laughing matter!"
And then the worst shriek of all came.
"You and Alfred are forbidden to ever see Francis and Mathew ever again!"
"You can't do that!" I nearly cried.
Just as my father's arm wound back to hit me, Francis stepped out from behind me blocking the pound. It seemed as if time had froze, and all that I could hear was the loud smack of my father's fist colliding with Francis' face. Although it had just happened, Francis' face had already started to swell. The look on the king of France's face was nothing I've ever seen before.
Great. Now France and England are going to go to war. Wonderful.
But all I could think about was Francis, and how I would probably never see him again.
'Good Bye' I said with my eyes as I was dragged out the door to our carriage.