Arthur stopped back in at his room before going down to see Matthew. He wanted to think that the only reason he was washing his face and fussing with his hair was because he thought it personally important to look his best at all times, but even he couldn't delude himself entirely. He was preening; he was preening and he knew it. Even after years of having to endure parties and balls, being teased by air-headed upper class girls who had nothing better to do than to fluff and powder themselves like great, foolish birds, he still couldn't stop himself from doing the exact same narcissistic grooming. Though, it wasn't fair to cast aspersions on women simply because they were pretty; the men were awful, too. All slicked hair and dashing figures, expensive shoes and rings and too much cologne, but then again, perhaps it was simply because Arthur couldn't be like them that he hated them. He could scrub his face until it was pink and he could comb his hair until it all fell out, but he was never going to look and carry himself like they did. He was plain, and he would always be plain and there was nothing much he could do about it.

Still, he ran a brush through his hair, trying to make it flatten in a more attractive shape. He searched through a cabinet until he found a small glass bottle of cologne that his mother had sent him for his last birthday. Personally, he thought it smelled like a woman's perfume mixed with moth balls, but he daubed a little of it onto his wrists and neck anyway. Another few moments spent straightening his collar and necktie and he finally felt he could see Matthew.

It was important to look nice for friends. You needed to impress friends. Arthur kept telling himself that over and over as he walked down the path to the stables, attributing the increased hammering of his heart solely to the fact that he hadn't seen Matthew in a while and not the fact that he was seeing him at all.

He searched all the usual places, but he couldn't seem to find Matthew anywhere. He did come across another stablehand but it was a much older man, and he gave Arthur such a condescending look as he passed by that he didn't feel comfortable asking if he knew the whereabouts of his friend. Just about to give up and head back, Arthur caught sight of a young woman walking between the rows of stalls, carrying a bucket with some brushes in it. She nodded to him courteously, and made to move past, but he called out to stop her.

"Umm, excuse me, miss! Do you work here, I mean with the horses and such? "

The girl flicked a frizzy strand of her red hair out of her eyes and nodded. "Yes, sir, I do. Can I help you with something?"

"Oh, good then, yes. I'm looking for Matthew." Arthur noted the girl pursed her lips and arched a single eyebrow as if annoyed, but then quickly got her expression under control and sighed as if being quite put upon in helping Arthur.

"He's down the way I came. We were grooming, but I've finished my share. I can take you to him, if it pleases you." The tone of her voice very clearly indicated that it would not please her in the least, so Arthur just shook his head.

"No, thank you, I think I'll manage." He brushed past her with a nod, but he couldn't help but to hear the sad sigh that came from the girl as she departed. Arthur turned around and watched her go, her shoulders significantly more slumped than before, and he could see she was rubbing her eyes. It was all very peculiar, but then again, Arthur supposed she just might be having a bad day.

Matthew was at the end of the row of stalls, tying a bay mare to one of the posts outside. He clucked at the horse soothingly a few times, running sure hands over her neck and withers. Arthur just stood and watched for a few moments, arms crossed over his middle and a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he cocked his head. Matthew was no longer the slight, feminine child that Arthur had been fascinated by so many years ago. With his hair drawn back, it was easy to see where juvenile roundness had abandoned his face for a much sharper and stronger profile. His eyes were still wide and bright, and his mouth was still full and soft looking, but there was no more of the petal-like fragility to his face and skin. He looked like a man, with broad, straight shoulders and hands larger than even Arthur's long and slender ones. Arthur had done quite a bit of growing in the last few years, but even with his newly gained height he would still have to look up or else end up talking to Matthew's chin. Only a little frustrated by this, Arthur actually felt some sense of overwhelming pride when he looked at Matthew. It wasn't as if he had anything to do with his maturation, but the mere fact that he was there to enjoy it made him happy, somehow.

Going to retrieve his bucket of grooming supplies, Matthew finally looked up and saw Arthur. He jumped a little, before his face broke out into a wide, warm smile and he rushed forward to give Arthur a friendly clap on the back.

"What are you doing here? I thought for sure you'd be too busy to come down."

Arthur turned the back patting into an actual hug, going on tip toe to successfully accomplish his goal. "Why would I ever be too busy?"

"With the Council coming up, I figured Yao would have you locked up studying and trying to civilize Alfred", he said, pulling away gently. He was always doing that, Arthur noticed; whenever Arthur so much as touched his arm teasingly, Matthew would try to subtly scoot away. It was different if Matthew was the one initiating the contact, so perhaps it had something to do with his residual shyness.

Arthur rolled his eyes at the mention of Alfred. "I don't think we're likely to civilize that boy by the time he's crowned, let alone in two months. But how do you know of the Council already? I barely found out this morning."

Matthew shrugged. "News travels fast. And there were rumours for some time, so it was already on everyone's minds." He paused for a moment, then leaned forward, a look of confused concentration on his face. "Are you wearing cologne?"

Face turning scarlet, Arthur backed away. "So what if I am?"

"That's odd, for you. Who are you trying to impress, anyway? You stink of the stuff." Matthew turned back to his work, pulling out a hoof pick and going to examine the mare's feet. This left Arthur to splutter and stomp his foot indignantly.

"I'm not trying to impress anyone! Besides, what do you know? You stink of horse!"

Matthew looked up and grinned. "Well, it's my job to."

"Then it's my job to wear cologne!"

"I suppose that's true enough, your Highness," Matthew cooed teasingly.

"Oh, shut up."

Arthur watched as Matthew finished his inspection. The mare refused to lift the final hoof, and Matthew massaged down her hock tenderly.

"C'mon now, sweetheart, we've done this before. Don't be difficult."

The mare huffed out of her nose and then obliged in picking up her foot. Matthew gave her a soft "thank you" and when he had finished with his cleaning he patted her all over and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

This is what Arthur liked most about Matthew. He was simple. Not in an uneducated, sloppy sort of way, but in a way that was warm and genuine. He was kind and smart, and he treated Arthur like he would anyone else, teasing and all. It was refreshing after the constant fuss and staleness of the palace, and Arthur almost wished he never had to go back at all. It it wasn't for duty, he probably wouldn't.

Matthew retrieved a curry comb and started in on the mare's coat, looking over his shoulder to Arthur. "Are you excited, then?"

"Hmm?" Arthur blinked himself out of his daze.

"About the Council. Meeting everyone, getting to sit in, all that?"

"I suppose so. That is, it's a little intimidating, though. The Queens- they scare me."

"Why?"

"Well, they're the ones I'll have to deal with the most in the future and what if they don't..."

"What?"

"What if they don't... what if they don't like me?" Arthur crossed his arms over his middle again and looked at his shoes.

Matthew was quiet for a little while. "I don't think you need to worry about that. You're quite likeable."

"You're biased."

"Heh, maybe."

Arthur let his friend work in silence, the only sounds being the soft swooshes of the brushes and the mare's occasional snorts. Matthew continued until the mare's coat was gleaming, standing back to inspect her from every angle.

"What a beautiful girl, eh?" He gave a few more reassuring pats and then untied her to return her to her stall.

Arthur stayed quiet still, a new worry beginning to have wormed it's way into his mind. The change did not go unnoticed by Matthew when he returned from locking up he stall and gathering his supplies.

"Is something wrong?"

"Just... thinking about the Queens, and then Alfred, I couldn't help but wonder... It's just that Alfred is going to be King in almost no time at all and Yao still hasn't told him. About us, I mean, about the betrothal and all that."

Matthew gave him a sympathetic nod and they began to walk toward the storage room. "Yeah, I was wondering about that, too. You don't think he'll announce it at the Council, do you?"

Arthur balked. "In front of everyone? Ugh, I hope not! I'm afraid how Alfred will react. I didn't... well, I didn't take it too well when I found out and I was only just younger than he is. I'd rather it be in private."

"So why don't you just tell him yourself?"

"No! I couldn't do that. What if he reacts badly? He'll hate me."

"Arthur, I don't know what dream world you've been living in, but there's no way Alfred is going to hate you. First of all, it wasn't like you chose to be Queen, and secondly, Alfred is so in love with you, it's almost embarrassing."

Snorting, Arthur bumped into Matthew jovially. "He doesn't care for me that much. He just likes attention. But I am seriously worried if he takes the engagement badly. It's taken me so long to come to terms with it, and still I don't want to be Queen. Well, I do. The position, I mean, I think I could actually be good at it. It's just the marriage bit. It's awkward."

"Y'know, I've considered just telling him myself, like a dozen times."

"You have not!"

"No. Really. He used to come down here all the time, when you were busy or something, and he'd stay for hours. It was all "Arthur this... Arthur that" and I just wanted to tell him. I know you don't see it, but he really does care about you."

"No more than you do. He's just a friend."

Matthew opened up the storage room and then turned to face Arthur. "But your his only friend. You mean the world to him. So, I don't think you being Queen is going be a problem. He'll be shocked, but I know he won't hate you." He walked inside and began putting his supplies away and tidying up. Arthur moved to sit on a small stool inside, pleased when the strange-eared orange and white cat appeared from behind a bin and started winding its way between his legs.

"But you're his friend, as well."

Matthew made a face and found another stool to sit on. "It's not the same. Arthur, he could just talk about you all day long. He's totally smitten. And he's terrified that you're going to leave the palace. He told me."

"He's a child! He can't even think like that yet. You're exaggerating." Arthur pulled the cat up onto his lap, receiving a few love bites to the tips of his fingers before the beast settled itself grumpily.

"A child! Arthur, he's almost fourteen years old! Don't you remember how you felt at fourteen?"

"No."

"Of course not, grandpa. You act like such an old man sometimes, Arthur."

"I do not! And anyway, I don't care if Alfred "loves" me, as you say. I just don't want him to hate me. If I have to spend the rest of my life working with him, then I don't need any more stress."

Matthew sighed and scratched the back of his neck . "You have to stop treating him like a child. He really will hate you if you keep that up."

"Then what do you want me to do?"

"Take him seriously! Take what he feels seriously!" He shook his head and held his hands up. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be saying all this. He's just... Alfred just wants you to feel about him the way he does about you."

Arthur pursed his lips and looked away. "And how's that, exactly?"

"Excited! Happy! I don't know, maybe it's more than that, but he just wants you."

"You aren't making any sense, Matthew. And anyway, I don't want to talk about Alfred anymore. I have to share everything with him as it is, so our time shouldn't be about him." Arthur gave a self-satisfied nod, and stroked the cat as it purred begrudgingly in his lap.

Matthew laughed. "Who's exaggerating now? You don't share everything with him!"

"Yes, I do! Mealtimes, and study and recreation, and any time I have to myself and suddenly he's there!" Arthur looked up, feeling his face get a little hot. "You're the one thing I don't have to share with him, not really, and I don't want to ruin it. I mean, for heaven's sake, I've even had to share a bed with him when the little brat couldn't get to sleep!"

Arching an eyebrow, Matthew grinned mischeviously. "Oh, have you really?"

"Don't be crude, it wasn't like that! That was years ago. I was just trying to make a point."

"Well, point made, your Highness. Alfred follows you around and worships you and sometimes you sleep with him. Got it."

Glowering, Arthur clucked his tongue. "I liked you better when you barely talked."

Matthew laughed and finally agreed to change the subject. They talked a while longer, Arthur filling him in on all the interesting workings of the Kingdoms he had learned that day, and Matthew going on about his excitement over a visit from a farrier from the city.

"He said he'd be willing to teach me! I don't know it's just exciting. If I learn everything, and I impress him, it'll be another set of skills I'll have and maybe I won't have to live here forever."

Arthur's brow furrowed. "Do you want to leave the palace?"

Matthew shrugged, chewing his bottom lip. "Well, yes and no. I mean, I wouldn't have anywhere to go, but that also means I could go wherever I wanted. And if I had skills that somebody could pay me for, then maybe I really could make it on my own. And I think... I think... well, maybe I could try to mind my mom. I wouldn't know where to start, but if I had a little money and was on my own, then I could at least find out what happened to her, y'know?"

"Oh." Arthur honestly hadn't been expecting that. Matthew almost never talked about his mother after he had shown Arthur what he had of her belongings. It was almost as if, in getting to know Matthew and feeling closer to him, he had forgotten completely that they weren't the same; Matthew didn't have a family or the privileges that Arthur did, and while this should have been an obvious constant, Arthur was too busy enjoying himself and his company to even think of what it would be like to be so alone. "Well, have you tried talking to Yao? Maybe he would know a way to start looking for her?"

Matthew scoffed. "No way. I'm not going to ask him for help. Sure, he sort of saved me when I was a kid, but now... I don't think he'd help. What has he done for me lately? He's just... left me here."

Arthur blinked and his mouth hung open a little. He'd only ever heard Matthew be happy and grateful. This pent up bitterness was shocking and a little terrifying. Mind whirring as he tried to think of how he could comfort his friend, Arthur dumped the cat off of his lap and reached out to put a hand on Matthew's knee.

"Matthew, listen to me." He waited until Matthew met his gaze. "When I'm crowned, I will do everything, and I mean everything, in my power to help you find her. I don't care what the cost or what I have to do, I will help you. I swear it."

Matthew let out a huge breath and put his hand on Arthur's. "Thank you. I know I can't ask you to do that, really, but thank you."

Arthur squeezed fondly against Matthew's leg, leaning even closer, but then Matthew was brushing him off and pulling away once again. Trying not to let the rejection affect him, Arthur set to straightening his clothes murmuring, "It's the least I can do."

The cat howled sadly at being bumped from its human throne and Matthew smiled, reaching up to untie the leather cord keeping his hair in place. He dangled it in front of the cat, who took a few bats at it, then seemed to feel embarrassed and started grooming itself vainly.

"Hahaha, you priss. Where's your friend, huh?" Matthew wound the cord up and slid it into his trouser pockets, fluffing his hair out more comfortably and grinning at Arthur. "What are you giving me that look for?"

Jumping a little since he had been caught staring, Arthur crossed his legs self-consciously. "What? Nothing. It's stupid."

"Aww go on, tell me."

"No, you'll make fun of me."

"I won't! I promise!"

Arthur knew very well he would, but acquiesced. "Don't laugh, but I honestly wish I had hair like yours."

The corners of Matthew's mouth twitched upward violently, but he contained himself. "And why's that?"

"Ugh! I don't know! It's just... nice looking. Better than mine anyway." Arthur flapped his hands dismissively and pouted.

"It is not." Matthew laughed and tucked his hair behind his ears, face looking a little redder.

"Well, that's your opinion."

Matthew shook his head. "No. My opinion is that you are perfect just the way you are. Stop worrying so much."

Arthur ducked his head down bashfully. "Do you really think so?"

"Sure. And you know who else thinks so?"

"Who?"

"Alfred."

"That's it. I'm leaving."

"But this is haaaaaaaaaaaaaaard." Alfred whined and thunked his head into the piano keys before him.

"You've played things much more difficult than this and done just fine! Just give it another go."

Alfred rolled his forehead around and then smacked it down repeatedly, the piano making terribly discordant crashes. "But this is different! I have to listen to your part as well!"

Arthur smirked. "Yes, it is so very difficult for you to listen to me. I know. And will you stop that! You're going to break the piano. Or your head. Yao will be very put out if he has to get a new piano."

"And what about my head!" Alfred sat up straight and rubbed his forehead, a large red mark spreading down to his eyebrows.

"Just try it again. I won't play this time."

Alfred took a deep breath and glared at the sheet music. After a few more moments of study, he lifted his hands gently from his lap and began to play. Arthur closed his eyes and listened, imagining where the musical line of his violin would go above the piano. It all seemed correct until about midway through the second page, and Alfred groaned and whacked his head down again.

Flicking the back of his neck so he would sit up, Arthur made him scoot over on the bench. "Alright. Play it again, starting two measure before. Let me see what you are doing." While he couldn't play with both hands simultaneously, Arthur had managed to pick up enough piano knowledge to plunk out little bits here and there. He studied the rising and falling black dots as Alfred attempted to play them, faltering over the same spot. A few more times through, and much slower, and Arthur nodded.

"I see what your problem is. Your fingering on your right hand is off. You can't make it in time doing it the way you are now. Try this instead." He reached in front of Alfred and slowly showed him what he meant.

"Oh! Do it again." Arthur obliged several more times and Alfred took to practising the motion simultaneously an octave higher.

"Now try it on your own. Both hands." Arthur found there really wasn't a place to put his arm, so he merely wrapped it behind Alfred, resting it on his opposite shoulder.

Alfred was a little slower to start than the times before, but he played the passage through perfectly, breathing a sigh of relief when he was done. Arthur's arm was beginning to tire, and he unconsciously moved his hand lower until it was resting somewhere near he the small of Alfred's back. "See! You've done it."

A strangled sound resonated in Alfred's throat and he shivered strangely, looking up at Arthur in a way he couldn't describe, but didn't particularly care for. Removing himself from the bench, he returned to his violin.

"It's not so bad, now, is it? All you've got to do is stick your fingers in the right place and it all turns out fine." Arthur prepared to play once again, but stopped and lowered his bow when he heard Alfred sniggering behind his back.

"What's so funny, then?" Arthur whirled around to find Alfred fidgeting wildly with suppressed laughter and quite pink up to his ears. "What did I say?... oh!" Realizing what had Alfred so worked up, Arthur rolled his eyes in disgust and rapped him lightly on the head with his bow. "Don't be crude, honestly, Alfred."

"Well, you said it, not me."

Arthur was about to let it go and get back to practising, but he couldn't stop himself as he turned back around.

"Where did you learn such vile things anyway?"

Alfred stuck out his tongue. "From your filthy books."

"Liar, there's nothing like that in those. You forget I've read them."

"So much the bindings are going to give out."

"Oh, ha ha. But I'm serious. I know what kind of talk Yao gives on that sort of thing. It's nothing like that. Who are talking to that you shouldn't be?"

Crossing his legs and leaning his hands back on the bench Alfred shot Arthur a haughty look. "No one. I'm old enough to talk to whomever I please, about whatever I please, aren't I?"

"No you're not. You're eleven."

"I'm nearly fourteen!

Arthur laughed, setting his violin aside once again as he sat down next to Alfred and ruffled his hair. "I'm teasing you. I know you're old enough for... those kinds of things, but I don't understand where you're getting them from."

Another annoying smirk, and Alfred was leaning up into his face. "Well, where did you learn it from, then, huh?"

Freezing because of the sudden lack of personal space, Arthur didn't say anything, much preferring to let his heart race as his eyes flicked up and down between Alfred's mouth and eyes. As the seconds ticked by, Arthur kept wishing that he would pull away or come closer or just do anything, anything at all that would release the tension. But no, Alfred seemed more than content to stay much too close to him and smile with an absurd amount of bravado. Smiling didn't even cover it. He was smouldering. Or at least attempting to, and Arthur's stomach lurched at the thought of being smouldered at, mind racing with all the things Matthew had said the week before. Just as he was about to convert all his nervous energy into lifting his arms to push Alfred clear off the bench, Alfred pulled away and stood, choosing to sit on the love-seat against the wall, instead. Even at a distance, Arthur felt like Alfred was trying to do something to him and he blinked rapidly, feeling self-conscious.

"Anyway, Matthew's told me all sorts of things. Has he told you?"

When he had cleared his throat enough times to speak, Arthur's voice was good deal higher than he would have preferred it to be whilst trying to remain calm. "Matthew?"

"Yes, Matthew. Y'know... my brother. He tells me all about it."

"About what, precisely?"

A far too pleased and devious expression crossed Alfred's face and he cocked his head to side in a way that made Arthur feel he was being mocked. "Sex, of course! He's done it, and he told me all about it."

It took Arthur a moment to process what he had just heard. When it finally registered in his brain, his mouth hung open and he felt a sudden rush of dizziness and something that felt uncomfortably close to anger. Overcome with the desire to punch something, he instead took to pacing, hands trembling as he spoke.

"Oh! Has he really?"

"Yep, only with a girl, but still. Didn't he tell you?" If Alfred could see how upset Arthur was, he either didn't know, didn't care, or was enjoying it.

"No. He didn't." Arthur tossed his violin in it's case, seeing Alfred jump as he slammed it shut. "We're done for the day."

"But- but we were just getting good!"

"Go Alfred, I have a headache."

"I'm sorry if I made you mad, I just thought-"

"I'm not mad, just SHUT UP!" Arthur wiped a hand across his face as he realized he was shouting, and immediately felt guilty when he saw Alfred sinking back into the sofa in fear. "I just... I need to lie down. My head. It feels like it's going to... it's just a headache, I'm sorry. I have to go."

He didn't bother to wait for Alfred's response as he all but ran from the room, leaving his violin behind, and hellbent on getting some answers.

Arthur had never been down on the servant's floor by himself before. He'd only visited Matthew there twice after the first time, and even then, Matthew had been there to guide him through the winding halls and to the right door. Now, with something rather close to rage guiding him, Arthur was becoming more and more lost. A good twenty minutes of huffing down hallways, and giving nasty glares to the few servants he did pass (he didn't want them asking questions), and finally he was at the dead end with the right door. Not bothering to compose himself or take the hour into consideration, he banged his fist on the door three times.

A man answered the door groggily, scratching his stomach through his shirt. Arthur could see the light inside the room was dimmed considerably, but he didn't care. He needed to see Mattthew.

"Is Matthew in?"

"Wha- yeah."

"Good. I need to see him."

"Now?"

"Yes, now!" Arthur stomped his foot and balled his fists up.

"Arthur? Is that you?" Matthew's head peered around the side of the door. "What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk." He shot the other man a withering look. "Would you excuse us, please, this is private." The man looked like he might try to talk back, but then just shrugged his shoulders and bowed slightly before brushing past Arthur and wandering elsewhere. Making sure no one else was in the room, Arthur shoved his way inside and closed the door.

"Arthur, are you okay? What happened?"

"I'll tell you what happened! I think Alfred may have tried to kiss me tonight!"

Matthew cowered away from Arthur and stumbled over to sit on his bed, panic obvious in his face.

"Okay, so-"

"No let me finish. He seems to have all these idea floating around his head and, if he's telling the truth, you've been putting them there!"

"Thoughts? What are you-"

"Is it true you've been with a woman? Is it?" Matthew's eyes widened and Arthur just knew it was the truth, but he couldn't stop himself from shouting. "IS IT?"

The colour drained from Matthew's face, and he teetered slightly on the bed, and for the briefest moment, Arthur thought he might faint. But then Matthew was shifting over and gesturing for Arthur to sit down as well. Arthur didn't move.

"Arthur, please, sit down."

"No."

"I won't talk to you until you sit down. You're scaring me."

"What difference would it make; you don't talk to me anyway, apparently."

Matthew pushed his hair behind his ears and shook his head. "Why are you so upset about this? Alfred just had some questions. What was I supposed to do, lie to him?"

Arthur could feel himself getting very close to tears, but he tried to push forward. "This isn't about Alfred! Not everything is about him! I just... why didn't you tell me? I'm your...I'm your... best friend." Hiccuping, now, Arthur rubbed crossly at his eyes. "Aren't I?" The feeling of unworthiness was burning hot in his stomach. It wasn't fair that Matthew had kept something so monumental a secret from him. But he also wished that that was what hurt the most; instead he was drowning in a feeling that was starting to get too close to jealousy. Jealousy of Alfred, and jealousy of a girl he didn't even know.

"What? Arthur, of course you are." Matthew reached out and pulled him to sit on the bed. "Alfred's making it seem like something happened that didn't."

"So you didn't have sex with a girl?"

"Look, I did, but it was a mistake. And then Alfred's always hanging around and he was asking me all this stuff, and I couldn't just lie. Somebody had to tell him. I didn't make it sound glamourous or wonderful, I just told him the truth. That's it."

"And what is the truth, then?" Arthur had managed to stop the tears, but he still felt twisted and mad.

Matthew sighed heavily and looked away. "Don't judge me, I feel stupid enough as it is. The other guys, the stablehands, well... a few of them are just a little older than I am and they all are either newly married or have lovers or something. And they're always bragging and talking filthy and they kept picking on me. It got annoying. It made me feel like there was something wrong with me because I didn't want to go into the city and get drunk and chase after women like they all did. Anyway, there was this girl- "

"Who?" Arthur interrupted, hands clenched in the bedding.

"I don't want to get her in trouble, so I'm not going to say. You don't know her, anyway. But she's been... I don't know, kind of sweet on me for a while now, and I guess I kind of liked her, too. I mean, I didn't really think of her like that, but then with what all the guys were saying, and she kept hinting at all this stuff... it just happened. We both felt terrible afterwards. It wasn't what we wanted, at all. I still like her, I mean, I see her and I wish we could be friends again, but it's hard. I'm not proud of it, if that's the impression Alfred gave you."

Arthur was quiet, the envy in his stomach quelled, but not completely gone. He picked at the blankets, pouting. "So, you regret it, then?"

Matthew nodded sheepishly. "Yeah. I mean, it's not that I regret doing it, it's just that I regret not feeling the way I should have. This is going to sound stupid, but I didn't love her, and she didn't love me, so it was all just... hollow."

"That doesn't sound stupid at all."

"You're not still mad, are you?"

Sighing out his nose, Arthur shook his head. "No. And I'm sorry I was mad in the first place. It's not my business, and you didn't do anything wrong in talking to Alfred. I just wish... I just wish you would have told me."

"I know, I'm sorry, I just thought you would judge me for it, if you knew what was happening. I felt so bad about it, I didn't want anyone to know, really."

"Well, no more secrets, alright? None." Arthur patted Matthew on the shoulder.

Matthew smiled and went for a hug instead. "Deal."

Arthur had a hard time falling asleep that night, tossing and turning in sheets that clung too close as all the thoughts of Matthew and Alfred and the Deck Council floated through his mind.

Matthew wasn't going to keep anymore secrets from him. Good.

The Deck Council was still far enough away that Arthur had time to prepare. Good.

Alfred was beginning to scare him, as was his own lack of sexual experience. Not good.

Frankly, he'd never really thought about sex much, other than as a thing that other people, people in books and people outside of the palace, did. He'd imagined it of course, and he'd taken care of his own base desires when the need arose, but as for ever entering into a functional, physically romantic relationship, Arthur could hardly picture himself. He wanted things of course, and he felt things. He was attracted to an individual, occasionally, or could appreciate that someone was attractive. But there was a great gap between thinking something and actually doing it, and at his age, he was beginning to wonder if his personal gap was too wide.

Feeling worked up again, Arthur reached over to the music box that had been on his night stand since the night he received it. It had become a ritual for Arthur to turn the tiny key and close his eyes as the faerie spun to life, lulled into calmness or into sleep whenever he felt too stressed. It was his treasure, something he kept completely safe and in good condition. Anne wasn't even allowed to move or clean it, and he took its maintenance upon himself and very seriously.

Now, as the lullaby played crisply, Arthur's thoughts calmed and wandered at a slower pace. Perhaps he wasn't as advanced as he should be for a young man his age. If half the gossip he heard at parties and events was true, then it would seem that sex was not an uncommon occurrence for his peers. Arthur was unsure whether to be amused or disgusted by this, especially considering he had never even been kissed. It wasn't as if the opportunity for that kind of thing was likely to present itself, not while he lived in isolation as the betrothed of royalty.

The music faded away, and Arthur reached blindly to turn the key again, not quite relaxed enough to drift off. He was just about to touch the beautiful metal when a memory crashed through his brain and made him freeze.

He had been kissed. Briefly, but kissed all the same. It was with great horror and embarrassment that Arthur remembered his thirteenth birthday and the strange, warm lips on his own just moments after the very same music box had gone silent.

"It doesn't count," Arthur said out loud, flustered and fidgeting in his bed.

"No! It doesn't count!"

Arthur didn't know who was trying to convince, but as he rolled over onto his side, away from his most cherished gift, he had a feeling he'd lost the argument.

A/N: Thank you for reading and reviewing. Common-sheep over on tumblr drew some art for Chapter 6 of this story. I will put a link up in my profile, so if you're interested go check it out and give common-sheep some love.