Arthur hadn't realised it before, but he'd grown slightly taller than Alfred. It wasn't by much and it wasn't noticable when they were sitting on the wall, but when they were standing on equal ground it became quite clear. Supposedly, it was his legs that had grown most.

They were currently standing on Alfred's side of the wall, kicking a ball that the boy had brought, against it.

"I haven't always been taller than you, right?" the royal asked after a moment of pondering.

"What? No. You're shorter than me," Alfred said incredulously and picked up the leather ball. He walked over to Arthur to check, his eyes widening slightly when he realised that they weren't at the same eye level. "Huh, that's weird."

"So I am taller than you," Arthur stated smugly. Alfred frowned.

"No, you're not. Look," he said and pointed to a cowlick that stuck up a few good centimetres over his head, "still taller!"

"That doesn't count!" Arthur said with a huff of frustration. He reached over and grabbed the lock of hair, persistently trying to smooth it down on Alfred's head. I didn't work though, for as soon as he let go of it, it sprung straight up again.

"'Course it does!"

Arthur pouted. "I've still grown, though…" he added rather sourly.

"Yeah, when did that happen – over night?"

"Of course not. My tutor told me that my body's going to change now. That I'm going to grow into a man."

Alfred looked at him disbelievingly. "No way. You're too young for that. I mean… we are the same age, right?"

"Thirteen?"

"Thirteen."

"So?"

"So you can't grow up without me! That's so unfair... But since we are the same age that must apply to me too, right? I'm gonna turn into a man, too?"

"Well, yes, I suppose so."

"That's awesome! But I thought I had to be older for that. Sixteen is the official age, right?"

Arthur stiffened a little. "Yes, it's sixteen."

"Well, that's not too far away! Three years should pass fast enough, right? I didn't think we were gonna grow much 'til four- or fifteen, though," Alfred said with a smile and put the ball down onto the ground again. He began doing tricks with it absentmindedly while Arthur stood frozen at the spot.

It wouldn't take long? It was three years. Three whole years. That was a long time, right? There was plenty of time in three years – plenty of time for training, education, and mental preparation.

Plenty of time for becoming a Queen.

Arthur's lectures had already grown more intense, and since they still hadn't found a suitable King, he was also forced to take classes in not only magic, but also battle preparations, strategies, and theory, as well. He'd told Alfred that he'd been taking extra classes and that was why they couldn't meet up for as long as usual. Nowadays he was occupied most part of the afternoon and evening, save for a couple of hours.

His fencing lessons had become more intense as well, with not only technique, but also physical training that left Arthur sweaty and spent. Now that his body was changing it was the perfect time for training, he'd been told. He hadn't had hardly any stamina before though, so he dreaded the workouts. Alfred asked him on several occasions about the bruises that seemed to repeatedly cover his face and arms, but Arthur simply shrugged it off, blaming it on clumsiness and carelessness. Alfred always looked upset despite the reassurances, but he hadn't snapped again since the first time a month ago. Arthur was glad that he hadn't. He'd lain awake thinking about the sudden outburst for a few nights – it had made more of an impact than what he'd let show. There had been something nearly frightening in Alfred's eyes, after all.

"Hey, Artie, are ya with me?"

Arthur snapped out of his thinking trance and blinked. "Yes... Yes, I am."

Alfred chuckled a little and ruffled his hair – when had he gotten so close? "Good. You keep spacin' out, so I was kinda worried. Are those extra classes getting to you?"

"No, I'm fine. I just had trouble sleeping last night is all; there's no need to worry," Arthur said and gave the offered ball in front of him a hard kick.

Arthur couldn't sleep that night either. Practice during the day had worn him out and he felt exhausted, yet, no matter how much he tossed and turned under the sheets he couldn't drift off to sleep. He tried laying completely still, just staring up at the ceiling and waiting for sleep to take him.

I didn't work.

Arthur let out a groan of frustration as he got out of bed from hours of fruitless attempts to rest. He stood for a moment, tapping his foot gently against the ground, before deciding to take a short stroll around the castle to tire him. So with a cloak heavily draped around him, Arthur dragged his feet out into the hallway. Moonlight seeped in through the large windows, partly illuminating his path. Arthur hadn't even bothered to check what time it was – it hardly mattered when he couldn't sleep, anyway – but the building seemed entirely vacant.

He felt awfully small when walking through the dark, spacious rooms. Small and lonely.

Portraits of the country's former rulers hung proudly on the walls, watching him with criticising eyes. Arthur felt himself shrink even more under the scrutinising stares. He'd never felt that he was suited for reigning, never felt that he was good enough. He, of course, didn't have anyone to compare himself to except for the tales of the great heroic rulers. The great heroic rulers, who by far surpassed him in everything imaginable. Arthur didn't think of himself as anything special. He'd been lucky to be born into the role as princess, but maybe Spades wouldn't find it as beneficial. He dreaded the day when he'd have to show himself to the people, reveal the lanky little boy who would rule them for a lifetime, and as things were currently looking, guide them to victory in war.

Arthur could see it in front of him. How the people in the harbour would share horrified glances, look at him as if he were an abomination, and how the streets and gradually the whole kingdom would start to panic. It wasn't a pleasant scenario, and one he'd do anything to avoid at all cost. The physical training would probably do him much better than Arthur had originally thought. He couldn't help but feel a little jealous of Alfred. He was strong and fairly built for his age; the boy would without a doubt grow up to be a strong and inspiring man like his father.

A yawn finally escaped him and Arthur decided to go back to bed before the depressing thoughts got the better of him. He chose to take a detour though, to help clear his mind and for the sake of variation. It wasn't very tempting to get stared at again either, or glared at, as Arthur saw it.

Everything was peaceful until he rounded a corner and saw streaks of golden lights escaping from a room. The door was only slightly ajar, probably not meant to be left open, and Arthur didn't think much of it at first.

"So how are we going to deliver this? Shall we gather everyone by the harbour, or send out the messengers first?"

This, however, made him stop. Arthur instantly recognised the voice as Yao's, and stopped outside the door – he had no real reason to risk peeking inside.

"Well, it is your decision, but agreeing on a date and gather the people then would be ideal. It is tradition, after all."

"Yes, of course, but wouldn't they suspect something? That procedure is indeed the traditional one, and rumours are likely to spread before we've made the announcement. I'd like to avoid rumours and the like at all cost since it'll probably cause havoc and confusion. If we deliver it smoothly with a few comforting reassurances, as false as they may be, we should get the best composed reaction possible."

The other voice was vaguely familiar, and judging by the topic of the discussion, it was likely a council member. What was the topic of discussion, now again? Arthur didn't recall hearing it, but he was also growing more tired, so maybe he'd simply missed it. He was curious though, since it obviously sounded like something important.

"As I said, the decision is yours, not mine. Do as you see fit."

With that, Arthur decided to walk on, trying to ignore the new thoughts that swarmed through his head. If it really was that important, Yao would tell him. And if it wasn't he'd simply find out together with everyone else at the public announcement, he reasoned.

But then it hit him. What if they were talking about him?

He cursed his paranoia immediately and picked up the pace. Of course they weren't talking about him! His identity wouldn't be announced until his sixteenth birthday; surely they weren't going to change the date, there was no reason to. But what else could they be talking about? It had to be something big, considering the troubled tone in the Jack's voice. It was by the harbour that Arthur would be making his appearance though. The Kingdom of Spades was well-known for its navy and skills on the seas. This probably had to do with the fact that the entire continent was surrounded by water. To get to the shore of the country you would have to cross its waters first, which wasn't likely to be a pleasant experience if your motives were hostile. There were ships out by the ocean borders, marking the different territory along with a chain of small islands that formed a frontier. On each of the islands and ships was a massive flag with the representing navy blue spade, to avoid confusion and accidental trespassing. Harbours were therefore important and symbolic places for the kingdom. Next to the squares they were common meeting places in the towns.

A lot of announcements and events did take place by the harbour, so what were the odds that they were talking about him? It was highly unlikely and Arthur felt silly for even entertaining the idea. Yao would tell him tomorrow anyway. If it was that important he had to.

With mild surprise Arthur noticed that he'd made his way back to his chambers and stood before the unmade bed. He lazily removed the dark cloak he'd been wearing and crawled underneath the duvet. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep this time.

Yao didn't tell him anything the next day though.

Arthur noticed that he was unusually tense during breakfast, but except for the usual greetings, he remained silent. So feeling slightly uneasy, the royal went to Tino for his lessons and extra fencing practice. The physical training wasn't as straining that day, but Arthur still took a long bath before going to meet Alfred. The boy was his usual cheerful self, hugging Arthur excitedly in greeting before telling him about his day.

"So it was Mrs Jacobson's… you remember our teacher? Anyway, her birthday today, and we all brought something baked from home," he said enthusiastically and showed a cloth he'd brought along. "I got some left over and since you said that you liked blueberry pie." Alfred smiled as he unfolded the fabric to reveal the treat. "I only brought one fork though… But you don't mind sharing, do you?"

"Oh," Arthur said, surprised, "no, not really."

Alfred smiled at him and handed over the fork, letting him take the first bite. There was still a fair amount left of the pie, so Arthur took a generous piece. Despite being cold, it tasted heavenly. Arthur moaned slightly, to which Alfred lit up.

"Is it good?" he asked, eager for a reply.

"Yes, it's delicious," Arthur said and gave back the fork.

"That's great! I helped mom make it this time, so…" Alfred took a big bite himself, smile growing bigger as he slid the fork out of his mouth.

"You're quite talented yourself then," the royal praised and received the fork again.

"Nah, it was mostly mom who did the work." Despite the dismissal, Alfred's cheeks grew a faint pink. "Here," he said and gestured to the utensil.

He didn't get a good grip of the fork before Arthur let go though, and the piece of metal fell down with a weak clatter on the wall. "Oops. Sorry 'bout that." Alfred picked it up again and started wiping it off on his sleeve. He quickly deemed it clean enough and took another bite.

"No, it was my fault, I seem a bit distrac-"

"Ow couse it wa'n't you' fault, A'tie," Alfred said with his mouth full of pie. Arthur nodded weakly and watched in bewilderment as the boy scooped up another bite with the fork. "Open up," he said, and brought the utensil closer to Arthur's face.

"What?"

"Just makin' sure we don't drop it again. Now, open up!"

"I'm not a child, Alfred! I can feed myself perfectly fine."

"Yeah, but we might drop it again. And blueberry stains are kinda nasty," Alfred said and gestured to his dirty sleeve.

Arthur felt a little guilty over the stained fabric – those stains wouldn't go away, after all – but he was still reluctant. "You'll just smear it all over my face, won't you?"

"Jeez, of course not, Artie! I have a good aim."

"Somehow, that doesn't reassure me."

"Man, look here," Alfred sighed exasperatedly and scooted in closer, moving his unoccupied hand to cup Arthur's cheek. "I can't miss now, can I? I promise I'm not that bad."

"This is entirely unnecessary, Alfred! I'll just make sure you have a good hold of it before I let go."

Alfred just shook his head. "Do you want more pie or not? I could easily finish it myself."

Arthur gave Alfred a mild glare before fixing his eyes on the pie. He could resist it. He could easily resist it. He hadn't had anything sweet since his birthday six months ago, but he could easily resist i- oh, damn it all.

Still reluctant, Arthur slowly opened his mouth. Alfred grinned.

No, the boy was smirking as he fed him. 'Brat,' Arthur thought. 'Just you wait. In a few years I'll order you to be fed until you grow old and you'll actually need the help.' When he bit down on the fork, he contemplated whether he should let go or keep it there, just to wind Alfred up, but he let it retreat from his mouth in the end. He wasn't sure whether the taste was worth it anymore. His cheeks were flaming from embarrassment and humiliation. The hand didn't retreat from his cheek either, making the chewing awkward.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Alfred said with an even smugger grin. Arthur merely pouted and continued chewing.

"When did I ever tell you that I liked blueberry pie?" the princess questioned after a while.

"Well, you know that time when I asked if you liked apple pie?" Arthur looked at him quizzically and made a sound of disagreement. "You told me that you'd never eaten it before, anyway… and you said that you liked blueberry pie."

Now he remembered. That was during one of their very first meetings over a year ago now. Arthur had almost completely forgotten about it. He swallowed another mouthful he'd received. "You remember that?"

Alfred chuckled lightly and tilted his head to the side. "Guess my memory's pretty good."

When he got back, Arthur intentionally stayed close to the Jack, hoping that he'd be pulled aside and told about the important news.

"Is something bothering you?" Yao asked after an hour of the pursuit. Arthur quickly shook his head and pretended to read. Eavesdropping wasn't exactly good manners, so he couldn't just ask him straight out.

After another uneventful evening, the royal went to bed, but the thoughts in his head kept him awake.

It was first the next morning, at breakfast, that the Jack told him that they had something to discuss. Arthur tried to look surprised. "Oh, what is the matter?"

"I'll tell you later. Meet me in my study at 11 o'clock. You are free from lessons till then."

The paranoia he'd felt earlier only grew stronger as he made his way to the Jack's study, ten minutes before the appointed time. They weren't going to talk about his coronation, right? 'The announcement must have to do with something else', he'd try to reason with himself. So when Yao told him to sit down in an armchair across the desk with a grim expression, told him that what he was about to tell him would be of great importance to his own and the country's future, Arthur's mind raced with different scenarios, all of them worse than the one he'd thought up earlier.

"I'm just going to be blunt, okay? It doesn't serve any purpose to skip around it," Yao began in a soft, yet serious, voice. Arthur tried to sit still in his chair. The room had grown unbearably hot, and his feet had grown their own will and were persistently stomping the floor, though the carpet muffled the sound. A sweat drop made its way down his forehead as the Jack leaned forward in his chair. 'No. No-no-no-no-no-no-NO! I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready – will I ever be? It's far too early and, oh God, I'm not ready and-'

"Hearts attacked our navy."

Arthur stared.

'What? Thank goodness, it has nothing to do with me. I really let my fear get the best of me there, ha-ha. Everything is good then… Ha-ha… Wait… What?'

"What?"

"The thirteen ships that we sent to the border of Hearts, they were attacked, all simultaneously, by Hearts' navy," said the Jack. "You do realise what this means?"

Of course he did. It was obvious, but somehow he couldn't muster the words to say it. Yao seemed to catch on and continued for him. "This means war. Hearts has already shown signs of advancement over our borders. If the weather out there continues as it is, their first fleet is estimated to reach Nantucket in four days. While it only consists of ten ships, we've been informed that they're well equipped, and with thirteen ships less out there, they make quite a threat. We've sent five battle ships to assist those already stationed at Nantucket, and 15 passenger ships to evacuate most of its inhabitants. The families of those who were aboard the ships have been informed that some ships are returning and-"

"Even though they died?" Arthur asked incredulously.

"Yes, your highness, we cannot say that merely some sailors from a ship are returning while the others are staying out there, now can we?"

Arthur shook his head. "But, what do you mean? Weren't- "

"Would you please withhold any more of your questions until I'm done? It will be much easier this way. Thank you. Now, we have not yet announced the attack to the people, as you've understood, and we're planning on bringing it to light in two days time, down by the harbour. I'm afraid to tell you that this will affect your rule, since we will have to include you more in the council, and you will be expected to state your own opinions of matters, make active decisions – albeit with my guidance – and engage yourself more in our war policies. It may be much to ask of you at such a young age, but despite your appearance we've learnt that you are much intelligent, and if anything we believe that this will strengthen your future rule."

Arthur had sat almost entirely immobilized through Yao's speech, trying to take it all in. In the end he decided to skip around the hardest part, that of his own participation, and chose to state a simpler question that was also bugging him.

"Why would you say that some ships are returning – weren't they all attacked?"

Yao nodded. "Yes, they were indeed all attacked, but some ships fought back better than others, or should I say had more luck than others. None of the ships made it through without any loss, though. One ship still has a third of its crew, but that's the biggest amount of survivors we have per ship. Nine of them currently lie in shreds at the bottom of the ocean."

"Right." It was a hard piece of information to process for the princess. Their average navy ship was larger than any of the other nations', and often manned with more than 400 men. Doing the math quickly in his head, he got 5200 men, with much less than a third survivors. Arthur felt sick. "Why were they at Hearts' border in the first place?" he eventually choked out.

"I suppose I can't expect you to remember; it's been over a year now, after all. When Hearts first attacked Clubs, two years ago, we sent five battle ships there to guard our border. Hearts eventually sent out a few ships as well, to guard their own border or to pose as a threat, we did not know, so we sent an additional eight ships there to strengthen our defence. It unfortunately didn't do us much good however."

Something in the back of Arthur's head kept telling him that something was wrong, other than the high death rate, but he couldn't figure out what it was. He swallowed and continued.

"But you haven't declared war officially yet?"

"No, but attacking our navy is quite enough. They're only waiting for us to make it official; we had a declaration sent yesterday. It should arrive in Rome in approximately two weeks if nothing happens to our messenger. The Jack shouldn't take more than a couple of days to take it to Berlin, and hopefully the Queen is also there. During war times I would be surprised if he wasn't." It wasn't uncommon for the rule of a nation to be scattered in three different cities of the country. It was much easier to keep track of the different lands and people that way, since there was no real fast way to send out messages. Arthur felt a little guilty at this, since it was his own incapability that kept the Jack in London where their Queen was usually stationed. Now that they were at war, it would surely serve as a handicap to the nation.

Arthur shook his head slightly to rid himself of the thoughts.

"So you'll announce the news the day after tomorrow?" he eventually asked.

"As it looks right now, yes. You can watch from a carriage as usual if you'd like."

Arthur nodded.

"Good, I'll have it arranged then. We'll discuss our future plans in detail this weekend, for now you should rest and prepare. Hectic times are ahead of us."

"ARTIE!"

Arthur turned around to look at Alfred who was towards him. The boy didn't stop at the wall though. Instead, he jumped straight up onto it; embraced Arthur; and planted a big, wet kiss on his forehead before locking their eyes. The boy looked excited to say the least.

"W-what?" Arthur stuttered, cheeks on fire.

"I have amazing news!"

"Yes?"

"My dad, Artie! My dad is coming home!"

Arthur couldn't help but share equal excitement with the boy – his father was finally coming home! It was, indeed, great news. The boy constantly talked about his father, and now he they were going to be reunited again. But then it hit him; Alfred's father was a navy captain, wasn't he? Arthur's newfound excitement was clouded over with worry.

"That's great, Alfred! But your father… Where was he again?"

"My dad? At the border of Hearts on some mission. He never told me exactly what." Alfred smiled.

"Ah, I see." Arthur's mood sank something immensely. That was where he'd heard it before; Alfred had told him, albeit a long time ago. 'Oh God… Alfred's father was… he was- No, it might have been on a different mission. Our border to Hearts is rather wide. There's no need to worry. Besides, not all ships sank, right? Alfred's father could've survived. If he was aboard one of those ships in the first place, that is, which he definitely wasn't.'

"Hey, are you okay, Arthur? You look pale all of sudden. How're you feelin'?" Alfred was looking at him with big, worried eyes. They somehow made Arthur feel guiltier.

"I'm just fine," he said. "When were you told of your father's arrival?"

"Mom told me just yesterday. Seriously, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for it! He's been gone for more than a year now. It would be awesome if you could meet him. Do you want to meet him, Artie? He's usually kinda busy, but if it's you I'm sure he'd have time!"

Arthur wanted to throw up, to do something that would relieve him of the guilt; the sickness of knowing that Alfred's father might be dead, lying on the bottom of the ocean… granted that his body was still intact after the assault.

"Arthur? Hey, are you sure that you're okay?"

"Yes," Arthur replied, a bit too hoarsely for his own liking, "I'm just fine."

"You can tell me if something's bothering you, you know? I'll listen."

"No, Alfred, it's not like that. I can assure you that I'm perfectly fine," Arthur said, trying his best to smile. Alfred looked as if he wanted to comment further, but chose to drop it.

"Okay, then."

The people looked calmer than Arthur would've thought. Most probably expected it, only thought it was a matter of time. Yao told everyone about the state of the thirteen ships as well, and that they would hold a ceremony later that evening, to announce the dead men's names and to mourn. Arthur tried to see if he could distinguish Alfred somewhere in the crowd, to get a look at his face – his emotions. His attempts were in vain though; you can't easily spot a thirteen-year-old boy in such a huge mass of people. Especially not if your vision is limited to the small square of a carriage window.

A/N

I'm not really satisfied with the length of this, but oh well. Now that I have summer holidays you'd think that I'd be able to update faster, like everyone else, but I decided to get back on youtube after a six month long hiatus, and that's what's been keeping me busy. I will try to stay active there, as I cannot stay entirely sane without editing for too long. Summing it up, I will not be able to update regularly (not that I really did before ._.), but I hope you'll decide to stick with me :) As for the chapter, no one's too mad, right? :'D I'm going on a trip down to Eastern Europe for ten days, so I'll start on the next chap. down there :)

Reviews are much appreciated!