The journey to the Spade Palace took over two hours by coach. Arthur sat in misery the entire time, not even bothering to watch through the window as the well groomed lawns of his family's estate melted into quaint farmland before exploding into the metropolitan chaos of the city centre. The constant rocking motion of the carriage combined with the deathly silence of the journey was making Arthur sick to his stomach. He was accompanied only by his father; the family physician thought it unwise for Arthur's mother to be venturing out of the house so late in her pregnancy. His father never spoke to him once in the duration of their travels and Arthur was unsure if it was from residual disappointment at Arthur's reaction to the proposal, or whether he simply had nothing left to say on the matter. Arthur desperately wished that his father would give him some advice, some final, parting guidance to help him understand what he was supposed to do now that he would be Queen.
Queen. Arthur's stomach twisted violently as he thought of his future title. He knew from his beginning studies of politics that gender had little to do with titles of the royal family. They had had significance in the earliest beginnings of the kingdom, before the four suit houses were peaceful and unified by the creation of the Deck Council; hundreds of years ago, royalty was determined by pedigree. Now the leaders of each house were chosen by the previous King and Queen upon their resignation. Since King George and Queen Virginia had failed to name a successor before their deaths, their only child would be the default heir.
As much as Arthur didn't want them to, his thoughts wandered in the direction of his betrothed. Surely Alfred could have no idea of the gravity of what was about to happen. Arthur himself was still a child and knowing full well the confusion he was battling, he could only imagine what the young King-to-be could be feeling. He felt sorry for Alfred. His entire life was decided before he could have a say in it and he had unknowingly brought Arthur to that same fate.
Feeling foolish for it, Arthur hoped his intended wouldn't be ugly or stupid. It was a vain hope, and impractical, but Arthur couldn't help feeling that if he was going to be stuck with Alfred for the rest of his life, he should be allowed to wish for a somewhat pleasing partner. And partners is all that they would be; not friends, not lovers, just partners with an understanding that their union served only to benefit the political standing of the House of Spades. The only love in their marriage would be love for their people, and Arthur wasn't sure if he could muster even that since it was the needs of those very people that had ripped him from having any choice in his future.
It was late afternoon by the time the coach pulled through the well-paved, winding streets leading to the palace courtyard. Arthur was relieved that there were few people about. He had been half afraid that some fanfare would be made at his arrival, but it seemed that the only people milling about were a handful of women and children selling produce and knick-knacks outside the palace gate, two sets of guards dressed in traditional tunics bearing the colours and emblem of the House of Spades, and a similarly dressed girl about Arthur's age standing at the steps of the entryway.
As the coach pulled up, Arthur's father cleared his throat, but didn't remove his gaze from the window. "If you don't think you'll be able to say anything pleasant, I would prefer you didn't speak. Whatever you feel about all this, I expect you to behave graciously."
"Yes, father." Arthur picked some imaginary lint from his trousers, trying to rearrange his expression before the carriage door would inevitably open.
Stepping out into the courtyard, Arthur could see that more of the palace staff had gathered on the steps. An attendant greeted his father regally, and after a brief exchange, instructed the rest of the servants to begin retrieving Arthur's luggage and taking it to his new room. The girl Arthur had seen earlier was talking animatedly to their carriage driver, but she stopped mid-sentence when she noticed Arthur was looking at her. She looked back for a moment before smiling politely and bowing.
Arthur flushed up to his ears at the realization that this breathtakingly beautiful girl was, in fact, a boy. His face was delicate and feminine, but now that he was up close, Arthur could see the budding masculinity in the boy's shoulders and large hands. Still, the boy was beautiful, with his wide violet-blue eyes framed by translucent lashes, and his chin-length curly blonde hair half pulled back from his face. Arthur noted that though he was obviously a stable boy or something of that nature, he still carried himself elegantly and Arthur wondered who he was. He was so caught up in watching as the boy led the driver and carriage around the other side of the courtyard to the stables, that he nearly jumped out of his skin when his father put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him toward the palace door.
The head servant led them through a series of hallways, and occasionally other members of the house staff would appear in doorways, pausing to bow their heads as Arthur passed. Arthur was becoming nervous again, the clicking of his own polished boots against the white marble floors driving him insane as he half trotted to keep up. The palace was so quiet; eery almost, and Arthur found himself already longing for the chaos of his own home and younger brothers.
Finally, they reached a set of large golden doors. Arthur gulped and fidgeted with his clothing. Although he usually enjoyed looking his best, everything felt itchy and hot, and his hat was beginning to give him a headache. His pale grey vest and jacket felt constricting enough that he began to have trouble drawing full breaths. Arthur was nearly light-headed by the time he was ushered into the next room.
Arthur had to endure another long walk down the length of the throne room. On the far end of the room, in front of a giant stained-glass wall featuring the emblems of the House of Spades in brilliant blue and white glass, there was a plush, velvet carpeted dais upon which sat two golden thrones. A man stood at the centre of the dais, dressed in rich looking silk robes with elaborate embroidery. No one was seated in the smaller of the two thrones, but the larger one was occupied by a small boy who was swinging his feet back and forth in boredom.
"Welcome, Lord Kirkland. I am Yao Wang, Jack of Spades and Regent for Alfred, future King of Spades. We are so pleased you and your son have come to court."
Here, Arthur's father removed his hat and bowed deeply at the waist and Arthur took that as his cue to follow suit. It was a challenge, but Arthur managed to keep his eyes averted instead of staring directly at the young boy he assumed was his intended.
"Thank you for your invitation. We are most flattered by his Highness' generous proposal. I, on behalf of my son Arthur and the entire Kirkland family, accept this contract with utmost gratitude."
The Jack of Spades came forward smiling and extended his hand warmly to Lord Kirkland. He then turned to Arthur, his grin becoming a bit gentler and less formal than it had been with his father.
"And you are Arthur, are you not? I have heard much about you. You carry the Gift, if I recall correctly."
Arthur swallowed the sudden excess of saliva in his mouth and nodded solemnly. "Yes, sir, I do."
Yao patted him cheerfully on his shoulder, either not noticing or not caring to notice the way Arthur flinched. "That is wonderful. I think it is high time such talents were recognized and used for the good of the kingdom. There is no reason we cannot mix the ways of the old and new, I think."
"That is very wisely said, Jack," Arthur's father said, apparently grateful that his son's oddity would not be a point of contention in solidifying the marriage contract.
The entire group turned to the throne when they heard the loud sigh of boredom come pouring out of Alfred, legs still swinging a good two feet above the floor.
"Ah, yes. If I may present his Highness, the future King of Spades, Alfred. You Highness, this is Arthur Kirkland. He will be staying with us here in the palace from now on."
Alfred hopped down from the throne happily and practically skipped down the steps to stand in front of Arthur. He rocked back and forth on his toes, grinning and bright-eyed. Arthur was surprised at how lively and healthy the boy was. His hair was golden and shining, blue eyes clear and wide, and his complexion was rosier than the infirm, milquetoast image Arthur had somehow concocted in his head. He'd half been expecting a pasty lapdog of a child, but Alfred seemed to be about as playful and well-adjusted as a child of royalty could be.
"Hello! It's nice to meet you! I'm Alfred."
Arthur bowed again, lower this time, wringing his hat in his hands and murmuring a tentative greeting.
Alfred giggled sweetly. "You don't have to do the bowing thing if you're going to live here. We can be friends!"
The adults laughed and Yao placed a hand on Alfred's shoulder, proud of how charming the young royal was being. Arthur didn't have the stomach to be amused by Alfred's demeanour, waves of nausea washing through his abdomen.
"So why are you going to live here, anyway?"
Arthur raised his head in shock. Alfred had no idea why he was here? He looked to the Jack of Spades in panic, and it was clear from his sombre face and the subtle shaking of his head that he did not wish for Arthur to divulge the purpose of his presence. Trying to think of a way to answer the young royal's question without lying or giving too much information, Arthur's eyes flitted from Alfred's smiling face to the Jack's frowning one, to the the smaller throne that would some day be his, and back again.
"I, uh, I have been summoned as a... as a... companion to your Highness." A strong twist in Arthur's stomach made him gag slightly, but he breathed heavily through his nose in an effort to assuage the sensation.
"Really?" Oh wow! That's so exciting!"
Arthur couldn't hold it in anymore. His face flushed, then drained of blood, leaving him feeling clammy and dizzy. His eyes rolled closed for a moment before he brought the hat in his hands up to his mouth and retched miserably into it. Arthur felt his eyes well up with embarrassed tears as he vomited, squeezing them shut to avoid seeing what must have been the mortified faces of the adults in the room.
"Ewww." Alfred said, trying not to laugh.
"Oh for heaven's sake, boy!" Arthur's father cried. "I apologize for my son, your Highness. The journey must have made him ill."
The Jack called for a servant to escort Arthur to his new quarters. "There is no need to apologize, Lord Kirkland. I had hoped that making little fuss about his arrival would help to make this transition easier, but I can see he is very upset. It is quite understandable, all things considered. Now, if you would follow me to sign the contract papers, the house staff will see to it that Arthur is taken care of and rests."
In a sudden flurry of activity Arthur found himself relieved of his soiled hat and whisked away through several hallways and until he reached the chambers that would be his new living space. He barely had time to take in the details of his rooms before he was pulled into the bathroom and stripped to his undergarments. The woman attending him began to run water into a giant white tub with gold claw-feet. She sprinkled something sweet and minty smelling into the water from a tin on the shelves lining the walls, then took Arthur's face between her hands, feeling his forehead and sweaty cheeks.
"You are a pale thing, aren't you? A little nervous, were we dear?" She tucked Arthur's fringe behind his ears and massaged his temples lightly. It felt so good that Arthur forgot to feel self-conscious about standing in his underwear in front of a woman he didn't even know.
"I'm sorry."
"Oh, there's no need to apologize. These things happen. Now, Arthur, you just sit right in this tub for a while and relax. When you feel like you're ready to come out, there are towels and a robe right in this cupboard here, alright? Don't rush. The Jack has asked that we let you rest until supper. If you feel like you're going to be sick again, just call. I'll be right in the other room."
Arthur murmured a thank you as the maid patted him fondly on the cheek and left him to his own devices. Stripping the rest of the way and sinking into the warm water, Arthur scooted himself down into the tub just far enough that he was covered, but not getting his hair wet. Whatever the maid had sprinkled into the water was soothing his stomach and making his skin tingle. It felt nice and Arthur let himself sit thoughtlessly in the water until it began to lose it's warmth. He let the tub drain as he dried himself, putting his undergarments back on and wrapping himself in one of the plush robes in the bathroom. He padded back into the adjacent room, noting now that it was a bedroom with a giant, downy looking four-poster bed with elegant silver silk curtains. The entire bed was a mass of blue and white pillows and beautifully embroidered thick blankets. It looked like heaven to Arthur and he wanted nothing more than to take a running leap into it and never get out.
The maid entered from the front room with a tray bearing a small tea-pot, a cup and plate with a large slice of buttered bread on it. She turned down the bedding and made Arthur sit propped up against the head board, pouring him a cup of tea and laying the tray across his lap.
"Drink this. It will make you feel better. And nibble on a little something, will you? You're such a skinny little thing, it's breaking my heart."
Arthur smiled. "Thank you. You've been very kind to me."
The maid laughed. "Well, how else am I supposed to treat my future Queen?"
Arthur's face fell, and the maid realized the mistake she'd made, bowing her head.
"I'm sorry. I know this must be hard for you. I should not have spoken that way."
"It's alright."
Arthur drank his tea and ate as much of the bread as he could manage. The tea was unlike any of the perfumed concoctions his mother served; it was a strange green colour and tasted earthy, but Arthur found it pleasant and quite effective at ridding him of his nausea. When he was finished, the maid removed the tray and tucked him into the plush bed. She retrieved a sachet from one of the drawers of the night stand and laid it across Arthur's eyes.
"Just relax. Sleep, if you'd like. I'll wake you when it's time to dress for supper."
The sachet was comfortingly heavy on Arthur's face and the intoxicating scent of the herbs inside lulled him into sleep almost immediately. For the first time that day, Arthur felt at peace, even if in the back of his mind he knew it was only temporary.
Dinner was as equally awkward for Arthur as all the events leading up to it. The Jack had invited his father to stay for dinner before returning to the Kirkland manor; Arthur found himself still being ignored. The two adults were involved in a passionate discussion about the potential steam had as an energy source for the development of more efficient travel, and Alfred, who was seated across from Arthur, was either making faces at him or ignoring him all together in favour of paying attention to his food. It seemed the young royal had quite an impressive appetite for his age.
Arthur ate a little of everything on his plate, but his returning melancholy was making it difficult for him to eat as much as he should. He began to absentmindedly roll a cherry tomato around his plate with his fork.
"Y'know, you have really big eyebrows."
Arthur looked up to see Alfred mimicking his facial features by holding three fingers above each eye. Frowning, Arthur didn't say anything and went back to playing with the tomato, albeit a bit more violently.
"Well, I didn't mean that like a bad thing. They look nice on you. They're just really big."
Shrugging, Arthur didn't look up from his plate.
"Do you still feel sick?"
Arthur shook his head.
"Don't you like tomatoes?"
It seemed Alfred was determined to have him speak. Arthur sighed and put his fork down.
"Not particularly, your Highness."
"Oh. I think they're yummy."
Alfred glanced over at the two adults still involved in their discussion, making sure neither one of them was looking before he sat forward and reached across the table, spearing Arthur's tomato with his fork and then popping it into his mouth with a grin.
Arthur couldn't help smiling a little in return.
"Do you like carrots?"
"Yes, your Highness, I do like carrots."
"Really? I think they're gross." Alfred's face lit up. "Arthur, we should make a deal! From now on you can have all my carrots and I can have your tomatoes!"
Arthur laughed and nodded his head. "That sounds like a wonderful idea your Highness. I can agree to that proposal."
"Yay!"
"What are you two talking about?" Yao had turned his attention back to the children.
"Nothing. We're just being friends, Yao," Alfred bragged, shooting Arthur a secretive smile.
"Well, that's wonderful your Highness! But I do believe it is time for us to say goodnight."
Arthur's father stood and bowed. "Yes, I should be heading back to the manor before it gets too late. Thank you again, your Highness for your hospitality. And you, Jack, for honouring our family in this way."
The adults exchanged pleasantries again, and then Arthur's father turned to him. " Goodbye, Arthur. I do not expect we shall see you again until after your mother is settled with the new baby."
"I'll write to you, father, if you want."
Arthur's father cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yes, uh, that would be lovely, Arthur." He seemed to debate it for a moment but he leaned forward and gave Arthur a stiff hug. "I'm very proud of you. And I know you'll continue to make me proud.
Arthur squeezed his eyes shut and tried to absorb as much of his father as he could before he would be gone. "I'll try, father. I promise."
A servant escorted his father out, leaving Arthur to sort through his complicated feelings in the presence of people he barely knew. After a long silence, the Jack spoke again.
"Well, come along now. Your Highness, say goodnight to Arthur."
Arthur was expecting to have to bow again, but Alfred came running around the edge of the table and hugged him around his middle, chirping his goodnight before running off again. Arthur and Yao watched in stunned silence as he tore from the dining room, laughing as he went.
"He seems to like you."
Not sure how to respond, Arthur settled for blushing and staring at the carpet.
"I know this must be quite upsetting to you, Arthur. I just hope you and I can become friends. If you need anything, please tell me. I want for you to be happy here. I know Alfred does as well, even if doesn't know why."
"Why didn't you tell him why I've come?"
Yao sighed and smoothed a few strands of his long black hair. "His Highness is still quite young. I do not think he would react well to the news. But I wanted him to meet you as soon as possible to foster your relationship. He has not had many people in his life whom he has loved stay for very long. I want you to be the exception."
Arthur scoffed. "With all due respect, I do not think he will love me, nor do I think I will love him. This is my fate, I understand that. Isn't it enough you have my life? Must you have my heart, too?" Arthur didn't care that he was being flippant; he needed Yao to hear how much this was upsetting him.
"No. You are right. It is not my right to ask that of you, nor is it Alfred's. All I do ask is that you stay. I think you will be good for him, and good for this kingdom."
"And what about what's good for me? Is that not being taken into consideration?"
A sadness washed over the Jack, and he walked solemnly to the door, resting a hand on Arthur's shoulder as he passed.
"I'm sorry, Arthur. I'm sorry it has to be like this."
Arthur closed his eyes as the door clicked shut and he was left alone again.
A/N: Oh boy. Another downer chapter. I promise it gets happier from here. And fluffier.
Thanks for reading and reviewing!