"I-it's not… It's not what it looks like," Arthur tried weakly, but the supposed to be convincing statement came out more like a hesitant question.

Svea had been the one to check on him in the morning, and apparently also the one who was sent after him when he didn't turn up for dinner.

She continued to eye him indifferently, her icy gaze never wavering. It usually didn't unnerve Arthur as he had known the woman through most of his childhood, but right then he almost squirmed where he stood – his guilty consciousness being the blame.

"Feeling better, your highness?" Was it Arthur's imagination, or did her voice sound colder than usual?

The young royal only nodded shallowly and straightened his stance in an attempt to regain a dignified posture. As much as he'd liked to give a well-composed reply, the words tauntingly choked in his throat and dehydrated his mouth.

"What were you doing in the Holy Woods, your highness?"

"T-the woods?"

"Yes, I believe you came out of them, your highness."

"Why aren't you calling me Arthur like you always do?"

"What were you doing in the Holy Woods, Arthur?"

The princess let out a groan of defeat and turned away his head again. He'd never had any reason for feeling guilty before (the only "bad" things he'd ever done was breaking an occasional flower vase or china) and he found the new feeling most uncomfortable. "I-I just needed to get away for a bit; Tino's been pushing me very hard with the studying lately... and I just needed a break," Arthur said and chanced a quick glance the maid's way. He immediately regretted it however, when he was met by a seemingly even harder stare. He inwardly flinched when the next question came,

"What is that on your neck, Arthur?"

"Please don't say anything to Yao! I swear I won't do anything risky again, so just... please!" Arthur begged, only barley keeping himself positioned in an armchair in his library – if the royal had any less dignity to uphold he'd probably be kneeling on the floor in front of the other woman. He'd told Svea about meeting Alfred by the wall, and briefly his trip into the city, leaving out most of the gruesome and more private details. The maid had remained silent throughout his entire story, making Arthur nervous and trail off more than once. Her expression had also remained indifferent, so he couldn't tell whether she was mad or upset with him. She seemed to have taken it rather well, however, considering that it must have been quite a surprise despite her suspicion during the day.

"I won't say anything, provided that you stop with your... escapades – you do realise how dangerous that was, right? And what if your identity leaked? Can you really trust that boy?" Arthur felt himself shrinking back into his armchair by every word Svea said. She usually didn't speak much, and when she did it was never about anything intimate or personal. Now that she was finally talking, Arthur wished she would rather stop.

"But the Jack will see the bruises on your neck," she continued, "and probably punish the boy, as well as yourself, for your actions. It's inevitable, really, but if his highness does not wish of me to talk I shall remain silent." She finished completely monotonously and with a weak nod. The maid sat in the navy armchair across from Arthur, feeling concerned for the boy, but unable to let her emotions show – Arthur often wondered if she'd experienced something that made her that apathetic or if it simply was in her character.

The princess' eyes widened and he swallowed in distress. He'd seen it coming, of course, but having someone actually say it made it feel so much worse. "T-the doctor said that it would fade eventually, don't you think I could perhaps... I don't know, hide it or something?"

Svea seemed to contemplate the suggestion a bit and stared off into a wall. "Well," she started, "I don't recall you possessing any garments with high enough collars, and I don't know how appropriate it'd be for you, but scarves are getting into fashion."

"I beg your pardon?" Arthur said and blinked. 'Scarves?'

Arthur really tried to not let the heavy silence affect him, but the tense atmosphere around the dining table was becoming hard to ignore. Even though he'd rather not, Arthur figured that he better show up for breakfast the next morning, but the moment Yao's eyes landed on him he immediately regretted it. The Jack didn't have work until unusually late that morning and was able to join the princess for a common breakfast. His eyes had been scrutinizing Arthur the whole time now however, digging into the cloth that was loosely wrapped around his neck. He hadn't commented on it though, instead greeting Arthur in the usual sophisticated and polite way before taking a seat.

It was through half of the meal that Yao finally broke the silence, albeit a little hesitantly. "What is that around your neck, your highness?"

Arthur was slightly startled by the sudden sound and shifted a little self-consciously while the question was spoken.

"A scarf."

"Yes, I can see that. But why are you wearing a scarf?"

Arthur decided to try and act casual about it – the bigger deal he'd make the more attention it'd draw from the Jack – so he shrugged in what he hoped was a nonchalant gesture.

"I still feel a bit cold from yesterday, plus I heard from the maids that it was in fashion," said he clearly and took a generous bite of his meal. He had his head slightly tipped forward so that his bangs prevented the Jack from making eye contact. Arthur, however, was glancing nervously at Yao through the blond fringe.

"I see..." Yao said, looking utterly confused and anticipating a further explanation from the boy. As none came he settled back in his chair and gave an inaudible sigh, trying to make sense of why Arthur would prioritise fashion of all things. No one outside of the castle was to see him anyway, so what difference did it make?

The rest of the breakfast was shared in silence, and Arthur hurried afterwards to meet up with Tino in the usual study room.

"Good morning, Arthur! Are you feeling better today?" Tino asked as they settled by the oak desk. Arthur nodded the affirmative and opened his textbook where they last laid off. "Lovely scarf you got there, by the way."

"Thank you," Arthur replied a bit shyly, starting to feel unsure about the additional cloth. He was accustomed to the flatter as he was often showered with compliments from the court, but he'd never grown entirely used to it.

"I guess it's appropriate now considering the weather. I should have picked some warmer clothing myself," Tino said and made a meaning nod toward the window. Arthur's gaze followed to the display of rustling trees outside. The weather was growing worse.

The lectures went on as usual till the late afternoon when Arthur was finally dismissed and went back to his chambers to retrieve a cloak. It The wind had continued to grow over the day and dark clouds could be seen coming rolling from the horizon – a rather stormy night was to be expected.

Arthur swiftly made is way down to the bottom floor of the castle but was stopped by Svea as he was about to exit through the Queen's Garden. She told him that he shouldn't go and meet Alfred, considering the princess' own safety as well as Alfred's. Arthur was quick in telling her that it wasn't Alfred he was meeting, that it was just one of his usual trips to the woods. All of the maids knew about the princess' attachment to the woods, so she didn't question him further and let him leap. Something in the back of Arthur's mind told him that she was right though, that he'd known so all along, but he persistently locked that thought away in a distant corner of his mind, not wanting to be reminded of it again.

He hadn't really talked to Alfred about meeting that day – Alfred might think he was lying in bed with a headache – but Arthur wanted to check anyway.

Even though the trees of the Holy Woods gave some protection from the worsening weather, the wind still somehow managed to sneak in between the vegetation. Arthur shuddered and slowed his pace even though it would do him better to accelerate. He rubbed his pale hands together furiously in an attempt to warm them up. In the end Arthur found himself coming to a complete halt and raised his arms in front of him. He began to make fluid motions with his hands while muttering foreign words under his breath. Not too long ago he'd come across a book in his library with elemental magic and found a relatively easy spell to create a barrier against wind. The weather had been unusually calm since then though, so even though he memorized it he hadn't had any opportunity to try it yet. He continued to move his hands in dispersive motions and could feel the wind gradually weakening around him. Feeling satisfied, Arthur gave a proud grin before continuing forward – arms now down by his sides again, but his hands continuing to make circular movements.

He didn't come across any creatures during his walk, making him disappointed albeit not surprised – they'd probably run off to take cover somewhere, he figured. The wall finally came into Arthur's view and he couldn't help but smile when he saw a small and shivering figure curled up on it.

"Alfred?" Arthur called out, and the boy looked up with flushed cheeks.

"Hey, Artie!" he exclaimed. "Are you feeling better?" The young royal nodded and, after a second of struggle, settled next to Alfred on the wall.

"Are you cold?" Arthur asked while examining the other's huddled up figure.

"Yeah, dude, of course I am!" Alfred said and shivered to strengthen his statement. "Why, you're not?"

The princess shook his head. "I made a wind barrier," Arthur said proudly. "I only learned it a short while ago, but it works quite well."

"Wow, really?" Alfred shifted and leaned forward so that he was on all four, head and shoulders peeking inside the barrier. The boy's face immediately lit up as he felt the warmth inside the protective bubble. Alfred scooted in even closer, pulling a surprised Arthur into a hug so that the princess was all but completely in his lap.

"W-what are you doing?" Arthur spluttered, trying to focus on maintaining his hand motions.

"I'm not spoiled, but it's totally unfair that I should have to freeze just 'cause I suck at magic!"

"I could just try to make the barrier wider though."

"Nah, you're warm, too, so it's nicer this way," Alfred said and nuzzled into his shoulder, frowning slightly. "What are you wearing?" He asked and pulled back a bit to inspect the fabric he'd found around the other's neck. He drew apart the coat that had hidden it before slightly.

"It's a scarf – to cover my throat," Arthur explained as Alfred continued to eye the plaid black and white fabric curiously.

"It suits you," Alfred concluded and snuggled up against the other again, a content sigh escaping him at the warmth. "It doesn't hurt anymore, right?"

"No, it's all right now." It was partially a lie, because sure, it was okay and didn't really bother him, but there still was a persistent, albeit faint, aching that wouldn't go away.

"Good... that's good," Alfred said, still sounding unsure, and nodded slightly (more to convince himself rather than Arthur).

They sat there together, vaguely swaying back and forth, until Alfred deemed himself warm enough and pulled back a bit. A casual one-sided conversation about said boy's school day started, and the two of them were soon huddled up next to each other, facing Arthur's side of the woods. A lost fairy flew around, completely disorientated, trying to find some shelter. Arthur watched her with mild concern, trying to focus on Alfred at the same time. She stopped flying and ran around through the jungle of grass and roots instead, the wind making it impossible for her to take flight again. Arthur pondered whether to get up and help her or not; he felt bad for her, but could also imagine Alfred's reaction when seeing his friend jump down and talk to the ground. He grimaced, but just then the fairy found a shelter between two sturdy roots, making him relax. Alfred was sitting, still oblivious, at his side, talking like nothing had happened.

"We should totally meet tomorrow too! It might rain a bit but with your bubble-thingy it should be okay, right? If you want to, that is...! Artie? Hey, Artie!"

"Y-yes? What is it?" Arthur asked when snapping out of his momentary trance, he'd blocked out most of the other's speech a while ago, unintentionally or not.

"Do ya wanna meet here tomorrow, too?"

"Oh... yes, sure."

"Great! 'Cause I need to go home now, but I'll see you tomorrow, then!" Alfred grinned and jumped down on his side of the wall, reluctantly letting out a squeak as the cold air hit him. "God, it's cold!

Arthur chuckled at him and watched as he frantically began to rub his arms, desperate for the warm friction. "I shall see you tomorrow, then," Arthur smiled down at him.

The storm did indeed strike at night. The rain was stabbing at the windowpane of Arthur's bedchamber, keeping him awake. He'd never minded rain before, thinking it was soothing and refreshing, but he felt exhausted from the lack of sleep and use of magic, wanting nothing more than to simply drift off into cascades of dreams or uneventful sleep. Even nightmares would do, Arthur thought exasperatedly.

It seemed as if the weather outside only worsened, for the hammering of raindrops grew louder and louder, making the room feel colder. The splattering grew stronger, rapidly increasing in quantity, and almost appeared to grow closer, nearing and splashing over the floor and navy carpet. Arthur didn't open his eyes until he felt something cold and hard graze his cheek. He let out a gasp and jumped up from underneath his covers as a second raindrop smashed into the back of his head, the surprisingly large amount of water seeping through his golden locks. The princess shivered at the cold feeling and shielded his eyes as more drops came down harshly upon him. Looking up from the floor, Arthur found himself gazing out into an endless pallet of blue; gloomy and navy colours rolling towards him, aligning themselves with a shade dark as ink in the sky.

Panicked cries echoed from behind him and Arthur spun around. I took a while for him to register what he saw.

Men were running around, shouting at each other as they struggled to stay on their feet when running over slippery wooden boards. The rain kept smashing down on them, showing no mercy on the exhausted crew.

The ground tipped over and Arthur grasped onto the wooden railing behind him, just as a massive wave of salty water came crashing down on him. With wet hands he desperately tried to get the water out of his stinging eyes, groaning when failing miserably.

He was on a ship, he'd concluded with great surprise. He was on a ship that was trapped in the middle of a storm.

The ship began tilting again, this time the other way, and Arthur clasped onto the soaked railing once more. He watched with terrified eyes as another huge wave came rolling towards the ship, pulling them into its deadly embrace.

"Arthur!" a voice echoed through the wind. Arthur heard it clearly despite the roaring sounds around him. It was as if everything became blurry, everything except for that voice... and the man who was on the other side of the deck.

Arthur inspected the man swiftly and froze on the spot when he'd registered his features. He was a young adult, or perhaps teenager – it was hard to tell since the man was hunched over – with the same mop of unruly, now drenched, blond hair, prominent eyebrows and – if his sight did not betray him – emerald eyes, as Arthur himself. Arthur also realized that the man even mimicked his stance. They were creating perfect mirror images, save for the age and clothing – what on earth was the other wearing? Arthur thought with stunned amusement – staring at each other with the same shocked expression.

"Arthur! Arthur, hold on!"

A second man quickly ran over to the older Arthur, tall and blond, or maybe light brunet, from what the young royal could tell. The other Arthur said something to the man, and was given some panicked reply before being lifted off the ground by the other. Arthur held eye-contact with his older counterpart as he was carried down into what Arthur knew had to be the captain's cabin, shouting obscenities that would have made anyone cringe.

Suddenly, the rain stopped, froze in mid-air. Everything around him – the people, ship, ocean, weather – froze, and Arthur could only stare as it all started to reverse. The rain ascended back up into the sky, the men started moving backwards, and his doppelganger was carried out through the door again. Everything began to reverse faster, accelerating in speed until Arthur found himself surrounded by an incomprehensible blur. Colours of different shades and hues passed him by; dull blue ones with hints of earthy colours, then an intense variation of reds and oranges, blocked out by some black, and then everything faded to complete darkness before the crimson and scarlet continued. Everything spun and, if possible, seemed to reverse even faster. Arthur only had time to catch glimpses of colours before it all suddenly became black again.

He was standing upright, but that was about as much as he could comprehend. The floor seemed solid, but he couldn't see any shadows, though he could see himself clear as day. The walls, provided there were any, were just as black as the ground, revealing nothing of his possible surroundings.

Arthur felt a wave of panic wash over him, and he franticly spun around, looking for any kind of light, or just hint of colour, in the darkness. As none presented itself, he leapt off, not caring whether the ground below him was solid or would crumble under his next step. This time, running didn't give him that free and wonderful feeling. There was no wind either. No matter how fast he ran, there was no wind blowing through his hair, nothing fanning or cooling him. It was out of sheer panic that his legs moved, out of panic and fear. No sound except for his own panting and wet feet, continuously hitting the ground, could be heard. He didn't keep track of time, but it felt as if he had run for hours. The panic hadn't disappeared though, instead, it was joined by a great confusion. He couldn't remember where he'd been before being swallowed by the darkness, only that he'd at some point lain in his bed, perfectly safe.

That was when he saw it, the silhouette of something. He didn't have any idea of what it might be, but it was still something, and therefore a huge relief.

As he came closer, the silhouette gained more structure, and Arthur eventually found himself running towards a gate. It was made of dark wood, wasn't very big, and adorned with different engravings. Flourish patterns intertwined with each other in crisscross ways all over the doors. In the upper half of the left door was a diamond carved, and a spade on its lower. The right door had a heart instead of the diamond and a clover where the spade was positioned on the other door. Other than those four symbols the doors were completely symmetrical.

When Arthur finally reached them, he just stood there and panted, staring at the doors with a mix of accomplishment and confusion. Where were the handles? He couldn't find anything among the curly patterns that looked like a doorknob, handle or anything that could be used to open the gate.

Arthur hesitantly walked around the doors, feeling the panic returning again. There was nothing there. Nothing at all – only darkness. He turned back around to inspect the back of the gates, to see if there were any handles on that side – not that it really would matter anyway. But the gates were gone. Everything was black again.

With the panic returning, now with full force, Arthur skipped back a few steps. The gates reappeared, completely out of nowhere.

The young royal stared at it with big eyes, not sure what to think anymore. He took an experimental step forward, and the doors disappeared again. They didn't fade or go up in smoke or anything, just disappeared. One moment they were there and when he blinked they were gone.

He walked back, and the gates did indeed reappear.

Stepping sideways, he raised his fist uncertainly before knocking weakly on the right-hand door. Nothing happened, and Arthur wondered if he'd really expected anything to.

He knocked again, harder this time, and as nothing happened he banged his fist against the wood in agitation, not caring that it hurt when his knuckles made contact with the uneven surface.

He wasn't sure why he was even knocking in the first place – it wasn't as if the doors led anywhere – but it was still something, not darkness, and Arthur utterly refused to wander out into the black again.

Giving in to the pain, Arthur stopped his futile attempts at knocking and fell down on his knees. He didn't know when he'd started sobbing, but tears were now streaming uncontrollably down his cheeks. He was lost, scared, and awfully confused. What made matters even worse was that he couldn't remember anything. He'd lain in a warm and comfortable bed, but save for that he didn't have any memory of anything but the endless abyss. He wasn't even sure of is name, he only knew he had one.

Soft noises suddenly erupted from the door, and Arthur's breath hitched, a thick feeling sticking in his throat. The sounds grew gradually louder until it sounded as if it came directly from the other side of the gate. A shape in the doors abruptly began to glow. Arthur hadn't noticed that part of the engravings before, but it looked like a cross, split in two by the twin doors. Some creaking sounds could be heard before the door swung open, making Arthur jump back in surprise.

A boy about Arthur's age poked outside, a cloak with hood concealing most of his blond hair and the rest of his attire. His eyes scared Arthur. They were almost as dark as the abyss, a rich tint of navy blue the only thing proving them to be solid and not bottomless holes.

Arthur tried to speak, to formulate a greeting or question, but he choked and was at a complete loss. The boy didn't seem to be very keen on speaking either. He remained silent and observed the Arthur for a short while before starting to search for something under his cloak. Arthur flinched as a key was suddenly presented in front of him. It looked rather simple, made entirely of some shiny metal and hung in a rough leather strap. The boy shook his hand a little, making the key bounce up and down. Arthur gave him a confused look and the boy then leaned forward, taking one his hands and laying the key down in his palm. The boy curled Arthur's fingers inwards so that he had a secure grip of the object, before stepping back inside the door. He put his index-finger in front of his lips and blew out a quiet "hush" which somehow grew stronger as it came blowing towards Arthur. The young royal was taken by surprise and let out a gasp as he was hit by a powerful wind that threw him backwards. He half expected to hit the dark ground, but instead kept falling and watched as the boy closed the gates above him. He could only let out a silent scream as reality hit him and panic struck just as hard.

The fall didn't last long though, for his back quickly made compact with something soft. Arthur bounced off the smooth material and fell down onto cold ground again, letting out a pained grunt but managing to keep his head from compacting with the floor. He was back in his room and the rain was still hammering outside, now also with a few occasional flashes of lightning followed by accompanying sounds.

The princess looked up in confusion. He'd landed on the cold stone floor next to his bed where the carpet had, unfortunately, slipped away. With some effort he rose to his feet. His side ached a bit from the impact and the bouncing had done nothing good to his neck. He couldn't help but wonder if it had been just a dream and that he'd simply fallen out of bed, it all seemed very surreal after all, but then he became aware of the cold object he still clutched in his right hand. The image of the silent boy indicating him to be quiet filled his mind, making Arthur wonder whether he was a real person or not. He sat down on the bed's ledge for a while, thinking. He was tired and couldn't remember much except for the darkness and the gates with the boy.

And the key, of course.

Arthur played with the piece of metal with his hand before putting it on his bedside table. What it was didn't matter at the moment – he just needed to sleep. So Arthur crept down underneath his duvet again, vaguely wondering why his hair felt damp, but soon drifting off to a sound sleep.

In some incredible and miraculous way, Arthur had managed to convince the Jack into letting him go outside the next day. "But only for an hour – at most!" he'd been told. Even though the storm had struck during the night, the weather seemed to have cleared considerably. It was still raining though. Darker clouds were once again rolling towards them so it was only a matter of a couple of hours before the thunder would start again. Arthur would make sure to be back before that, for both his and Alfred's safety.

Yao had insisted that he'd put on some suitable clothes, which in this case meant several layers of heavy fabric. Adding to Arthur's horror over the outfit was the fact that most of the garments – even those hidden from sight – were quite showy and screamed novelty, if not even royalty. Arthur therefore hid all this under one of the dark cloaks he'd grown fond of over the last few days. Thinking about it, Arthur realised he must have lost the cloak he'd worn into town at the school... not that it mattered though; he had plenty of them in his wardrobe.

He'd hidden the key in his library, behind a book with fairytales where he was sure no one would look. He just wanted to forget about it at the moment; he had other things on his mind.

As Arthur entered the woods, he somehow couldn't bring himself to create a shield for the falling water, exhaustion taking over him even out there in the rain. Luckily for him, he was still quite fond of rain, so the water didn't bug him all too much. What did bug him though, was the thought of not having anyone waiting for him on the wall. What guarantee did he have that Alfred would show up in this weather? Maybe the storm meant that their meeting was called off? Arthur didn't know. He didn't have any experience with this at all; Alfred was his first real friend after all. So when Arthur arrived to an entirely silent and empty wall, his heart sank immensely. There was no radiant boy on it, no one waiting for him.

Arthur climbed the slippery rocks anyway. Albeit solemnly.

He started freezing after awhile, but decided that it didn't matter. Alfred had waited for him despite the cold wind after all.

How long had he sat there? It felt like hours. But then again, it wasn't like he had the funniest occupation to pass the time with. There were no magical creatures outside, so there was no company. All Arthur did was sit there and quietly hum some melodies stuck in his head, shuddering from time to time. It was starting to get really cold, but he still felt too weak to create some protection from the weather. Why had he grown so weak all of sudden? It didn't make much sense.

By the time a person arrived he was too deep in thought to take notice of their presence.

"Hello there, Art," came a warm whisper at his ear, sending quick shivers down his spine.

Arthur didn't have any time to turn around to identify the voice, for he jumped high into the air as a pair of hands came down on his shoulders. Letting out a startled cry, he only barely managed to clutch onto the wall before falling down into the gathering mud and puddles.

"Y-you stupid git! I could've died!" He shouted at the grinning boy, surprising himself at his choice of words.

Alfred only laughed at him.

"No you couldn't! Dude, you should see your face right now!"

"I-it's not funny! Stop laughing you stupid-!" Arthur quickly wiped away a few escaping tears and tried to compose himself, taking a deep breath. "Anyway, do not startle me like that! Couldn't you greet me in a normal way?"

"Aww, but it's so much more fun this way!" Alfred chuckled and helped him into a sitting position. "Hey, did you wait long? You look absolutely soaked!" he said and ruffled Arthur's drenched hair.

"No, it's okay. I've been through worse." That was a lie. If you didn't count bathing, of course, which Arthur in this case did. No need to upset Alfred – he worried too much already.

"Oh, okay. I usually don't head out in this kinda weather, so I think it's pretty bad," Alfred said with a sad smile. "Hold on, I have an idea."

Arthur watched with curious eyes as his friend removed the heavy and warm cloak he was wearing. The fabric was luxurious and the garment well sewn with complicated patterns embroidered on the sleeves and collar – it was too big for Alfred, but such a garment was hardly tailored to fit little boys. Since Alfred's mother was a priest, Arthur supposed he was privileged with at least a few luxuries. And he really did deserve them, Arthur added as an afterthought.

"Here we go! Nice, right?"

Alfred had scooted closer to Arthur and draped his over-sized cloak over them both. Arthur smiled shyly. "So, ya done anything fun since yesterday?"

'I still haven't told anyone about the key,' Arthur thought that night at the dinner table. 'Should I? It doesn't seem that important... And Yao would probably think I've gone mad... Have I? Maybe I've been mad all along, and that's why no one else sees my friends. Should I dare tell Yao? We cannot have a mad reign, what would happen to Spades then? But what would happen to me…? I know what they do to madmen and...' Arthur gulped visibly. He'd lost his appetite, but the Jack didn't seem to notice. 'Maybe I should just let it be... I'll tell if it happens again, but if it doesn't I'll just stay quiet. There is no need to tell. No one has to know.'

And it didn't happen again. Weeks and months passed, but except for an occasional nightmare, Arthur had nothing but pleasant dreams. He kept meeting Alfred at a daily basis despite the weather (they took turns in bringing cloaks or capes when it rained, if Arthur was too tired to put up a barrier). Alfred never brought Arthur with him into town again – or brought up the topic, for that matter – but the princess himself kept making carriage trips down to the harbour, and if lucky caught peeks of Alfred helping out. What also started coming at a daily basis were hugs. Over the months, Arthur noticed that Alfred had grown clingier. At first it was only when the weather was bad and during the winter, when Alfred complained about the cold and used it as an excuse, but when spring came and the air heated up, the boy still insisted on nuzzling him at any opportunity given. Arthur wasn't really sure of what to think of it at first; he just went along with it and let himself be hugged. Considering how nonchalant Alfred was about it, it was probably normal, Arthur thought. And it felt rather nice as well, so why not?

Winter passed without much notice, and so did spring. Summer was something they both tried to savour – with Alfred being on summer holidays and able to see Arthur every day – but nothing can last forever and before they both knew it, the colours had started to change and leaves began to fall.

They'd already known each other for more than a year when the first small break of the blissful pattern came.

"You never told me why you were crying for back then."

"Huh, what?" Alfred had once again begun talking on a random subject, which, as usual, Arthur didn't understand the concept of.

"Back when we met. It was kinda strange, and you were crying."

"Yeah..."

A short silence settled as Alfred waited for a continuation of the confirming response. Arthur, however, did not know he was expecting one.

"So why? Why were ya crying?"

"No particular reason."

"Oh c'mon, there must have been something. You were crying!"

"Not really, I just felt... unusually sad."

"Did you have a fight with your parents?"

"What? No–"

"Was it 'cause of something embarrassing?"

"No, Alfred! It wasn't like that–"

"Then why won't you tell me?"

The last question came out more like a bark than an inquiry. There was something close to feral in Alfred's expression – some kind of frustration, desperation, knitted together in his facial muscles.

Arthur visibly flinched at the sudden outburst, and Alfred quickly caught himself at the other's reaction.

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to shout like that. I-it's just… it's been on my mind for a while now and… R-really, I'm sorry, Arthur! I-I won't ask stuff like that, really, I won't push you or anything. Okay?" Alfred had started to panic, desperately clutching at the princess' shoulder while trying to make eye contact with his shocked friend.

"No... It's quite all right... Everyone gets mad sometimes," Arthur said timidly and tried a weak smile. Alfred's sudden change of character had taken him a bit aback, but maybe he'd simply been spoiled with Alfred's happy behaviour before. Alfred had always made a fuzz over his well-being, but snapping was new. It did get Arthur wondering whether Alfred acted as himself when around him though. But then again, it was first now, after a whole year, that he'd seen a different side of the boy, so maybe this was just an unusual outburst? Everyone had them, Alfred being no exception. Thinking about it only made Arthur more anxious, so he looked up for a distraction and met Alfred's remorseful gaze. Arthur was once again embraced and listened to the soft words spoken in his ear,

"I'm truly sorry."

That was the first time Arthur had seen his friend like that, but it would be far from the last.

A/N

I am soooooooooooo sorry for the late update! I've had tons of stuff to do these past months, but summer holidays are just in a couple of weeks now, so I'll probably have more time for writing then.

And I am going to continue "The Atlantic Mansion" for those who have asked. I never intend to leave a story unfinished, so I'll update it soon, I think.

Anyway, thank you so much for all the reviews, favs, alerts, and so on. I really means a lot! And I'm sorry for not having had the time to reply anything, I'll get to it soon, promise!

Oh, and I noticed a lot of mistakes in the previous chapter that I might edit someday, hopefully…

I'm in quite a hurry right now so I'll end the A/N here.

Reviews are much appreciated!