Arthur felt out of place amongst the rainbow-like gathering in the grand parlour. The spacious room had been gutted of its fine sofas and glass display cases of antiques to make room for an ornately carved, round table. Dressed in their House colours, the Deck Council glittered like so many gemstones in a giant's crown, hues exaggerated by the light coming in from the wall of intricately paned windows. It was hot, both from the weather and the excitement of so many bodies packed together, and Arthur couldn't stop himself from sending sidelong glances about the room at his contemporaries, watching them shift and sweat in their delicate silks and cottons, see-through from lightness in some places. Despite the heat, the Council spared nothing in terms of opulence, from fine beading and embroidery on the men's jackets, waistcoats and trousers, to the sparkle of jewels around the women's wrists and throats. The Queen of Clubs was particularly showy, electing to make up for the fact that her long, beautiful had to be pinned up for comfort's sake with an acidic green shock of feathers tucked into her chignon.

But it was not only the flagrant display of wealth that unnerved Arthur. Each member of the Deck Council was wearing a circlet or diadem as an indication of their status, or, in Alfred and Lilli's case, future status. Arthur was the only person in attendance who had escaped this fate, but it was beginning to feel more like a condemnation. No matter how hard he tried to keep his eyes on his notes in front of him, they kept wandering to the precious metal sparkling on the Council's heads. A small teardrop emerald glistened on Elizaveta's forehead, suspended by twisted lines of silver; Feliciano's golden circlet looked out of place given his playful disposition; Lilli wore not so much a crown as a wreath made of painted silk flowers encrusted with amber, topaz and diamonds, and Alfred kept fidgeting with his own headpiece, partially because it was slightly too big for him and partially because he never wasn't fidgeting. Arthur thought it suited him, though; the silver was a stunning contrast to his dirty-blonde hair and warm complexion, and the modest sapphires embedded in the metal made his eyes seem shockingly blue. Then Arthur realized he had spent far too long in study of Alfred and he went back to staring at the tabletop.

As far as Alfred knew, Arthur was attending only because his father was influential and Arthur needed to know something of politics in order to follow in his footsteps. The Council acted as if this was entirely true, and while Arthur was grateful that there seemed to be no betrothal announcement in the near future, he felt his stomach twist every time he looked around the room and thought to himself, "This is where I belong. I should have a crown on my head, as well."

The Hearts had been speaking the majority of the morning about their plans to construct a cultural museum celebrating the traditions of all the Houses and their unification. Feliciano had been focused and appropriately eloquent for once as he showed off his preliminary architectural sketches.

"We do not have the funds to complete the project by ourselves," Kiku said demurely. Arthur found it so odd when he spoke, since it seemed he rarely did, but Kiku commanded the attention of the room effortlessly. "If any donation toward this could be made by each esteemed House, we could have it constructed and operating within the next two years."

Talk of money seemed to perk Vash up and he leaned forward in his seat warily. "What kind of finances are we talking about? What amount? And what about supplies?"

Ludwig put up a hand reassuringly. "We have the resources for the actual building, but not the funds for labour." Arthur tuned out as he went into some elaborate speech of sums and costs. Numbers had never been interesting to Arthur, but Alfred was jotting down notes rapidly, doing some mathematical calculations and circling a few things before pushing the paper over to Yao. Nodding, Yao whispered something in Alfred's ear, then patted him on the back. Technically, Alfred had no authority in the proceedings of the Deck Council, but Yao had made a consistent effort to explain issues to him and ask his opinion.

The other Houses were now in deep discussion as well. Ivan was speaking rapidly to Elizaveta while Roderich nodded and looked through a pile of documents in front of him. Finding what he needed, he pointed out a few details of the page to Ivan, who smiled and said something that made Elizaveta laugh quietly. Vash was scribbling furiously, obviously doing some calculations of his own, then shoving the final number in front of Francis' face, nervously waiting for his approval. Francis smirked and crossed the number out, replacing it with one that made Vash's face go white for a moment, but the Jack merely pressed his lips together and bowed his head in deference.

Rolling his eyes playfully, Francis shifted in his seat and caught sight of Arthur watching the exchange. He smiled gently and winked, and Arthur gulped and pressed his lips together. Francis had been nothing but gentlemanly and kind in the past few days, and even if Arthur thought all of this winking and hand-kissing business was odd, he didn't have any real reason to dislike the King of Diamonds. Not knowing what else to do, he offered a brief smile in return and mouthed "hello". Francis was only two seats removed from himself, and he opened his mouth and leaned forward as though he were going to speak directly to Arthur, but then Alfred was having a suspicious coughing fit that made Arthur jump back to attention sheepishly.

Yao broke the frenzy. "This session is getting rather long. Perhaps we should break and everyone can consider their offers more carefully?"

"I agree. There is no need to rush such delicate matters," Kiku murmured as if he were ashamed to be asking for support in the first place.

"If that is the case, then perhaps the Council should also take time to consider any works of art or literature they would like to be memorialised in the completed museum." Ludwig said, then gestured to Feliciano. "We have an excellent team of artists who would be capable of creating replicas, since I know that the Houses would not wish to donate the original works, and understandably so."

"Then, should we also compile a list of pieces for consideration along with our financial offers and present them in the next session?" Ivan proposed, odd Northern accent thick and cumbersome to Arthur's ears. Everyone nodded or murmured their assent, and Ivan smiled his crooked smile, eyes lighting up childishly, "Oh good, then we all agree!"

Yao mentioned something about refreshments and the majority of the Council left for the dining room right away. Arthur didn't want anything so he waited until only the Spades remained to let out a huge breath and rub his hands down his face. The last week had been nerve-wracking, and there was still a little over a month to go. Alfred nudged his shoulder and turned around to hop onto the table, feet swinging over the carpet.

"So what do you think?" he inquired, head cocked into his shoulder as he leaned back to support himself on his palms. Things had not been any less awkward between them of late. For every friendly hello or goodbye Arthur got from the King of Diamonds, Alfred was there to follow it up with his own greeting. Arthur had become rather adept at turning his head at the right moment to ensure the tiny kisses landed on the middle of his cheek and nowhere else. It wasn't that he enjoyed them so much as he didn't want to seem prudish. Most of the other Council members greeted each other in a similar fashion, and Arthur didn't need to seem more out of place than he already felt. Besides, if Alfred was crossing some boundary, Yao would have put a stop to it by now. It was just a quirk that Arthur would have to endure while Alfred felt the need to show off in front of the Council.

"About what?"

"Alfred, get off the table," Yao called in passing as he finished gathering his notes and went chasing after the rest of the Council.

Alfred pulled a face and rolled his eyes behind Yao's back, but made no move to get down. "About the museum thing. I think it's a good idea."

"Oh. I don't know." Arthur hadn't thought to have opinions on the matter, too distracted to have any productive ideas. He put his chin in his hand and looked up at Alfred curiously. "You do? Like it, I mean. Why?"

Shrugging, Alfred fussed with his crown again. "Yao told me it would benefit everyone to have their history remembered. It's what we come from, right? So I think it makes sense to know about it and keep it safe somewhere."

Arthur nodded. There was a lesson about learning from mistakes in there somewhere, but he couldn't think of the right way to phrase it, so merely batted at Alfred's arm. "Stop playing with that!"

"It's too big. It keeps slipping," he whined and took the crown off all together, fiddling with it in his lap instead. "I don't fill it very well, do I?" Alfred's shoulders slumped an almost imperceptible amount and his legs stopped their swaying.

"No, you're doing an excellent job," Arthur thought to himself, but couldn't quite manage to say it aloud. He settled for patting Alfred's knee tentatively and murmuring, "You're still young. It will fit someday."

"Maybe," allowed Alfred, still unsure. He looked down at Arthur's hand and put his own over it, gangly and almost bigger. Curling his fingers around to Arthur's palm, he squeezed once, but didn't let go. "I just don't want to let anyone down."

"You aren't!" Arthur declared. "You're doing as well as can be expected for your first time. Better, even. Look at how much Yao is letting you participate! If he didn't think you were doing well, he wouldn't defer to you as often as he does. And all the Council seems to like you!"

"That's not true. Ivan doesn't like me, I just know it, and Francis, he... well, I don't know." Alfred shook his head and frowned, then looked down at Arthur shyly. "But you think I'm doing all right? You, personally?"

Arthur's mouth gaped open as he tried to think of a way he could agree without seeming like he been paying special attention to Alfred's actions. It was important for him to appear indifferent, though why that was, Arthur himself couldn't exactly recall. "I... well, I mean, I don't know much about this kind of thing, but you aren't doing poorly, at least, no."

Alfred laughed and rearranged their fingers so that they fit together. "Thanks, I guess." Arthur's stomach clenched at the way his hand was starting to get warm, and the way Alfred was looking at him, open and almost with affection. Thankfully, the moment was ruined by Alfred's crown slipping on his forehead and ending up at an awkward angle above one eye. He laughed again, and Arthur used it as an opportunity to reclaim his hand, shaking his tingling fingers out underneath the table. But while his hand may have been safe for the moment, Alfred was still looking at him with that queer expression.

"What?"

"Hold on, I want to try something." Arthur remembered all to well the last time Alfred had wanted to "try something", and his heart fluttered nervously in his chest. His eyes slipped closed, not knowing what to expect, half-thinking he knew, but all that he felt was something cold on his forehead and Alfred smoothing his hair down. Arthur opened his eyes again, and reached up to find the modest crown on his own head.

"Perfect fit," Alfred said. Arthur wasn't sure if he sounded sad or happy, but he wasn't sure of much at all anyway, not when Alfred's hand was on his cheek guiding up while he himself was leaning down. Arthur's breath caught for a moment before he sighed out of his mouth. He had a fleeting thought that, no, his mouth needed to be closed if this was going to work right, but then there was a rustle of fabric in the doorway and Arthur jumped back to reality, mortified that he had nearly... well, he didn't know what he had nearly done, but he felt the aching race of his heart and the heat in his face. In that fleeting instant, he had wanted something he'd never wanted before, something he didn't have a name for yet.

"I thought I might find you he- oh, am I interrupting something?" Gilbert queried, leaning against the door frame after entering with a flourish.

Alfred wasn't saying anything, still staring at Arthur with half-focused eyes, but pouting like he was put out. Realizing how they must look, Arthur let panic take the reins and stood. "No. What? No, no. We were just playing around, we-" Arthur winced and shook his head. "No, not playing around I meant, we were just-" here he removed the crown and shoved it back onto Alfred's head. "Not interrupting no! Wait. Where have you been?"

Gilbert only graced the Council with his presence at the evening meal and at the entertainments. Otherwise, Arthur hadn't seen or heard from him the entire week.

Giving the pair an appraising look that had even Alfred squirming on the table, Gilbert grinned and waved a hand dismissively. "Here and there. Went into town last night. Got your brother into some trouble," he said, pointing at Alfred and then flicking him on the forehead beneath where his crown was going crooked. Alfred laughed and began to say something, but Arthur cut him off.

"Trouble? What did you do to him? "

"Calm down, you sound like an old woman. I just got a few of the boys down in the servants' quarters to go out with me. Drinks, music, that kind of thing. Nothing too unsavoury, princess."

Arthur ignored the nickname, too worried about his friend to care that he sounded like a flustered mother hen. "But what about Matthew?"

"That boy is a regular comedian once you get a few drinks in him. Never seen a surer hand with horses, either." Gilbert scratched the back of his neck and shrugged. "I have half a mind to tell Yao that if he doesn't start investing more in the boy, I'm going to make him a generous offer and take him on myself. Good kid."

"Would you really do that?" Alfred asked, wide eyed. "Would you really take him?"

Gilbert smirked and punched Alfred in the arm playfully. "I always get what I want don't I? Why? You want me to take him off your hands?"

"No!" Alfred and Arthur cried at the same time, but Arthur ducked his head down, knowing that they felt so strongly for vastly different reasons.

Chuckling, Gilbert held up his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine, I won't. But if Yao doesn't give him a promotion or a raise or something I'm going to have take matters into my own hands. I don't think your jailer knows how lucky he is."

Alfred rolled his eyes."It's just Matt."

Sensing it was time to change the subject, Gilbert tilted his head toward the door. "And why aren't you two with the Council?"

"Not hungry," Arthur lied, surprised when Alfred nodded in agreement.

"Oh well, if either of you are interested, I've got a horse race down by the orchards in half an hour I'm looking to make some money on. Care to join?"

"Who's racing?" Arthur inquired.

"I am," Gilbert boasted with a toothy grin.

"You can't bet on yourself!" Alfred crowed.

"Why not? You should always bet on yourself. You're the only one who knows what you are going to do! Now are you coming or not?"

"Yeah!"

Arthur shook his head. "No, thank you, I'm a little tired." He'd had trouble sleeping again, tossing and turning from the heat and an overactive mind.

"Suit yourself then! C'mon Alfred, let's go make a few grown men cry."

Watching as they made to exit the parlour, Arthur was overcome with the feeling he'd forgotten something important. He almost followed, but called out instead, "Alfred!"

"What?" Alfred looked over his shoulder, the bright light from the windows making him look like a wash of colours against the doorway.

"I don't... Be careful! If you get hurt- Yao will be mad, if you get hurt. Don't do anything stupid, please." Arthur felt like the stupid one as he gave his pointless warning.

Alfred cocked his head to the side in confusion, then laughed and walked back over to Arthur. "All you had to do was ask," he whispered teasingly, then kissed Arthur on the cheek. "I'll be back soon, don't worry."

"I'm not worried!" Arthur protested as Alfred walked away again, eyes flitting up to Gilbert, who was watching the exchange with twisted fascination. "I just don't want you to get into trouble."

But Alfred was already gone and Arthur was left to share a long with the Joker, who shook his head and smiled mostly to himself.

"I don't think he's the one you need to worry about, Arthur. You're in trouble enough for the both of you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Arthur demanded, but the only answer he received was a dramatic shrug as Gilbert, too, disappeared into the hall.

Alfred's legs were beginning to ache, and his chest felt tight, but he pushed himself as the ball came flying towards him once more. Trying to time his swing perfectly, he lobbed the ball back across the net with a grunt. Queen Elizaveta dove to save it, but it was too late and Alfred had scored another point for his team.

They were playing at tennis in doubles, Alfred paired with the reserved, but nimble Queen of Hearts, and their opponents being Elizaveta and King Francis. It was early evening, the sky a mixture of rosy orange and soft blue, but it was still warm out. The tennis courts were on the far side of the garden, surrounded by manicured hedges and flanked by stone benches, the entire area lit by a few bright torches in the fading sunset. Alfred and Arthur had only rarely played since he didn't much care for tennis, but now he was wishing he had practised more. The King of Diamonds was by no means an athlete, but he had a sure eye and hand, and he played defensively, a strong counterpoint to the Queen of Clubs' brash style. Alfred didn't understand how she could play so aggressively in her dress and heeled boots. Granted, the dress was shortened to mid-calf and the boots were meant for recreation, but it still looked restricting to be playing in a skirt. It didn't stop her from dominating the better portion of the match, though, wisps of hair coming loose at her temples with sweat, the rest hanging in an elegant braid down her back. More than once, Alfred had run one way in anticipation of her next strike, only to find the ball whizzing past in the opposite direction.

Kiku congratulated him for scoring, with a slight bow of the head. The Queen of Hearts was quick on his feet and stronger than he looked, and he had saved their team from loss with brilliant last-minute manoeuvres. He wasn't a very physical player, choosing to strategize rather than needlessly exert himself. Alfred had a tendency to swing at anything that moved, so it was good to have such a cunning player balancing things out.

"Match point!" Yao cried from one of the benches, and Ivan clapped gleefully and leaned over to say something in his ear. Whatever it was made Yao giggle behind his hand and shoot Ivan a warning look.

"Why don't we make this interesting?" Francis called from across the net, adjusting his hair, which he had tied back for the match. "A little wager, perhaps?"

"I do not care for gambling, I apologise," Kiku demurred.

"Winning is the only prize I need, Francis, now get on with it!" Elizaveta retorted, spinning her racket in her hand.

Francis looked to Alfred and raised an eyebrow.

"What did you have in mind?" Alfred asked cautiously, then obliged as Francis waved for him to come closer.

Speaking in a voice so low that Alfred had to lean over the net to hear, Francis nodded his head toward the benches. "There's one thing out here we both want, is there not?"

Alfred followed his gaze to where Arthur was sitting, legs crossed and chin in his hand, oblivious to the wager taking place. "I don't think we can compete for that."

"Can't we?" Francis mused, and stood taller as if to intimidate his opponent.

"I only mean that there is no competition. He likes me better. I've already won that prize," Alfred boasted, maintaining eye contact with Francis, not to be outdone. Francis just tilted his head back and laughed.

"Then you have nothing to lose if I propose the wager to be time spent without interruption? If he already cares for you more, than I'm hardly a threat."

"How much time?"

"Let's say... two hours? Alone."

"When?"

"At the time of the victor's choosing. Now, do we have a wager?"

Alfred chewed his lip and looked at Francis' outstretched hand. Anything could happen in two hours, and a few unsavoury scenarios flew through Alfred's mind. If he didn't win, then Arthur would be at the mercy of this slimy frog; not that Arthur couldn't and wouldn't fend for himself, but Alfred didn't trust Francis to keep his courtly ways without supervision. Still, if he didn't agree, then Alfred's boast would fall flat.

"Let's get on with it!" Elizaveta cried.

"Fine," Alfred sneered, and shook on it.

Returning back to his side of the court, Alfred waited tensely for the ball to be put into play. He ran faster and hit harder than he had the entire match, stakes so much higher. He lobbed a powerful play over the net, but Francis stopped it at the last moment, and returned it with impressive force. Anticipating the trajectory of the ball, Alfred reached out, body elongating as he swung again.

But the frame of his racket barely skimmed the ball, and Alfred watched in horror as the opposing team earned the winning point. Alfred could hardly hear Kiku's assurances that he had played a worthy game, instead focused on the smirk Francis shot his way.

"To the victor go the spoils," he called cheerily and Alfred tasted bitter bile in the back of his throat. He'd lost, and lost fairly, but a world where Alfred had to give up the object of his affections to the whims of the King of Diamonds seemed wholly unjust.

The other Council members had taken to the court now, congratulating the winning team and commenting on what a close match it had been. Arthur, much to Alfred's dismay, was complimenting Francis on his last manoeuvre, and laughing at something the King had said. Wanting nothing more than to drag him away and either hit or kiss him until he came to his senses, Alfred barely realized that Vash was talking to him until the Jack took his chin in hand and shook back and forth.

"Alfred! Are you listening?"

"What?"

"Your eyes," Vash repeated, turning Alfred's face side to side. "I noticed you were squinting during the match. Can you see well enough?"

Taken a back, Alfred pulled away and blinked rapidly. "As well as I usually can. I mean, far away things are sometimes blurry, but it's like that for everyone, isn't it?"

Vash sighed. "No, I'm afraid not. I'll have to speak to Yao. I noticed it during your last archery lesson as well."

"What do you mean?"

"I think your physician may need to examine you and you may need to wear spectacles, much like the Jack of Clubs. It is not uncommon for eyesight to change, Alfred, but it strains your eyes to squint so."

"Spectacles?" Alfred grimaced, imagining the bookish frames on his own face and not liking the result.

"You may not need them but I think it's worth looking into. Perhaps then you won't miss so many targets." Vash's mouth quirked into something not quite joyful enough to be a smile. "Or as many balls."

Alfred pouted and fought the urge to kick something. Not only had he lost Arthur, if only for a little while, to Francis, but now he might be doomed to wearing ridiculous contraptions on his face all the time.

Any hope he had had of finally confessing his feelings to Arthur disintegrated with the last of he self esteem, and he wallowed in his helplessness. Feeling another hand on his shoulder, Alfred jumped to find Kiku behind him.

"Do not worry so much, Alfred. It is only a temporary loss."

"Aww, no, Kiku, I don't care so much about the match. It's just tennis."

Kiku smiled and shook his head gently, casting his eyes downward thoughtfully. "I was not referring to the match, forgive me." With a little bow, Kiku went to rejoin his House, smiling back at Alfred over his shoulder.

Three more weeks of Council passed. Arthur still felt out of place because of his secret, but he no longer felt like the Council members disliked him. He found comfort especially in the kindness of the other Queens; Kiku was never anything less than polite and considerate to Arthur, and after getting to know each other better, the Queen of Hearts had even invited Arthur to a private tea party in his room. Elizaveta and Yao had been there as well, and it was the first time Arthur had felt like he might someday be friends with these people instead of just a student.

Elizaveta had taught him a few card games, winking as she laid down a winning hand. "There's nothing to do up in my country during winter except for play cards and drink. I don't like alcohol, so you can imagine how often I win against the King and Roderich." Arthur had laughed, but couldn't imagine the stern Jack of Clubs partaking in spirits; from what Arthur had seen, he'd abstained from drinking during the last month. Still, Arthur was beginning to realize that the first impressions he'd gotten from the Council were just fronts; beneath were normal people who had been chosen for extraordinary positions. Perhaps they had felt as lost and unworthy as he did at one point.

It was nearly impossible to remind himself of this however, now that he was watching Lilli and Alfred. Council sessions would resume in a few days, but for now, a filmy white canopy had been erected in the garden, mounds of plush rugs and pillows beneath for reclining in the midday heat. The palace was so stuffy that it was more comfortable to relax outdoors in the shade, and the servants provided a continual parade of chilled wines and teas, fruit soaked in liqueurs and honey, and dainty sandwiches. Most of the Council was content to lounge quietly and enjoy the fresh air, but Ivan and Yao were pouring over a diagram of some new weapon the Clubs were trying to invent, and Alfred and Lilli were engaged in a game of chess, giggling more than playing from the sound of it.

Lilli was sillier than usual thanks to a cup of wine and some of the alcohol soaked strawberries. Vash had tried to forbid her from having any, but she was of age, and both Francis and Elizaveta had told him to leave her alone and let her have her fun. He'd grumpily retreated to the corner of the canopy, pulling out a book and disengaging from the group entirely. The heat was only increasing the effect of the alcohol on the poor girl; Arthur could feel his own head swimming a little, and he'd barely had anything to drink at all, despite Francis' attempts to keep his cup full. Lilli was laughing at practically everything that happened, whether it was Roderich sneezing or Alfred claiming one of her chess pieces. More than once Arthur watched as she knocked over one of the pieces while trying to move it, then dissolving into giggles so violent she could hardly sit up straight. Alfred found this all charming, apparently, and Arthur was mortified as he watched Lilli sneak him drinks and use her fingers to feed him a piece of fruit from her plate.

"Enjoying yourself?" Gilbert asked, flopping down on a pillow next to Arthur. He'd been talking with Ludwig, trying to goad him into singing some ridiculous song from their childhood until the King of Hearts had sternly scolded him to take his "drunken antics elsewhere".

"I suppose," Arthur said dryly, trying not to crane his neck so he could see over Gilbert and continue glowering at Lilli.

Gilbert caught the flick of his eyes, though and turned around, leaning back on his forearms. He clucked his tongue in mock disappointment, then laid back, lolling his head on the pillow to purse his lips dramatically at Arthur. "I told you."

"Told me what?"

"I told you that in a few years you'd be more than jealous if Alfred was still talking to pretty girls."

"Tch." Arthur took a drink to disguise his reddening face. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Right," Gilbert droned, unconvinced.

Arthur decided to change the subject. "Any more horse races lately? Alfred never did tell me what happened at the last one."

Gilbert grinned secretively, and laced his fingers across his stomach. "Oh, I lost that one, in a way." He looked at Arthur and shrugged. "Sometimes losing has its own perks."

"Like?"

"Let's just say that the victor does not always get the spoils."

"I beg to differ, dear friend." Francis was standing over them, mid-afternoon sun making a golden halo of his hair, and Arthur had to squint to make out his face.

"Oh yeah? What have you won recently? Last time I checked, the only battles you were capable of fighting were those not fit for virgin ears." Gilbert nodded his head toward Arthur, who was trying not to look shocked. "I can't have you ruining the children."

"I'm not a child," Arthur mumbled petulantly into his cup.

"Love, war... same thing if you ask me." Francis tossed his head. "Besides, I know for a fact the only thing you've ridden in years is that flea-bitten horse of yours."

Arthur half-choked on his mouthful of wine, laughter threatening to force it out of his nose. Gilbert was cackling loudly, rolling back and forth. There was something refreshing about the not so subtle crudity of the two men, a playful sort of faux-loathing that made Arthur miss the afternoons he spent with Matthew. Not that Matthew was ever remotely bawdy, but he did tease and cajole.

"Would you two be quiet please? There are ladies present," Elizaveta sniped, flapping a delicate fan near her face.

Gilbert rolled over onto his stomach to look at her, then pretended to search the area with a hand shaded over his brow. "Well, I see Lilli, so that would be "lady", singular, wouldn't it?"

Elizaveta growled and threw a grape at Gilbert's face, but he managed to catch it in his mouth. "Thank you, sweetheart, I was getting hungry."

"Gilbert, enough," Roderich cautioned.

"Oh no, now I've gone and upset the princess. I guess that's my cue to leave." Gilbert stood, smoothing out the wrinkles on his clothes and clapping Francis on the shoulder. "I've got some more action lined up for tonight. Care to join?"

Francis shook his head with a wry smile. "My Jack is already in agony over the amount of money I've signed over to the Hearts for their project. If I spend anything more I fear he'll burst a blood vessel."

"Suit yourself." Gilbert clicked his heels together and bowed low to the company at large. "Ladies. I bid you a good evening."

"Good riddance," Elizaveta muttered as she watched him saunter off, then closed her eyes and resumed her dozing, fanning slowing down as she relaxed.

Arthur was starting to feel like he were made of jelly, too hot and possibly drunk to move his limbs into a more comfortable position. He could still hear Lilli and Alfred laughing, and that irritated him, but it was too hard to truly care about anything when he was melting from the inside out. He considered closing his eyes and napping, but a hand was extended in front of his face, and Francis was leaning over him.

"Care for a walk?"

"What?"

"A walk. I've grown bored of all this sitting."

Taking his hand, Arthur let Francis pull him to his feet, swaying with the sudden rush of blood from his head. It took a moment for Arthur to steady himself, and Francis beamed down at him as though he were something precious and fascinating. It made Arthur's skin crawl, but he followed after Francis anyway.

"Arthur, where are you going?"

Looking back over his shoulder, Arthur saw as Alfred stood up.

"For a walk!"

Alfred seemed to debate following for a moment, but then Lilli was tugging at his sleeve and he sat down again, something close to a scowl on his face. If Alfred was upset that he was going off with Francis, Arthur didn't care; it served him right for choosing to fawn all over Lilli instead of sitting with him.

The walk down the garden path was silent, but not uncomfortably so. Arthur's legs were feeling more solid, even if he was still blissfully light-headed. Francis began to whistle a merry tune as they walked, then glanced at Arthur.

"Have you ever been to the sea?"

"Once. When I was younger. But it was raining so I can't say whether I like it or not, why?"

Francis adjusted the golden circlet on his head. "The Diamonds have a palace in the South, at the only place our land borders the sea. We were planning on moving there for the rest of the year. The winter is milder." He flashed a winsome grin. "You should visit us. I think you might like it."

Arthur didn't know how to respond, so he said a quiet "thank you" and asked, "What is it like there?"

"It's the loveliest place in the Kingdom. I'd live there year round if it wasn't so cursedly far from the important cities. The palace sits right on a sea cliff. It's always sunny and warm, and we have the most fragrant flowering trees in the courtyards. You could get drunk off the scent, I promise. And the interior is entirely marble and gold and tall glass windows; it sparkles like a jewel. It is the most beautiful thing in the world." Francis stopped and took Arthur's hand. "One of the most beautiful things, anyway."

"Why?" Arthur blurted out before he could stop himself, and wrenched his hand back. "Why do you keep saying things like that to me?"

"You don't think you deserve it?"

"I don't understand why you've taken such an interest I me. I'm not... and what about Lilli?"

Francis sighed and gestured to a stone bench surrounded by rose bushes. This part of the garden was set aside solely for the multitude of varieties that the Spades had cultivated over the years, some of which only grew at the palace. The air was thick and heady with the scent of their bloom and rot in the heat. Arthur sat down gingerly, recalling that this was not the first time he'd been pulled aside in the garden only to learn more than he'd ever imagined.

"Arthur, you must understand one thing, and that is that I adore Lilli. She is a precious flower, a brilliant young mind for all her childishness, and I think she will grow into a strong and capable Queen. But I do not wish to have her. There are some things in this world that should remain pure and untouched, whether by lust or war or politics. She is a treasure, and I will covet, not use her."

Feeling sick to his stomach, Arthur spat out, "So you intend to use me instead?"

"No! You misunderstand. I find you... appealing for the very opposite reasons I adore Lilli. Whatever Yao and the others may think of you, you are not some gentle lamb just waiting for crown to be placed on your head. I see in you a great passion, something I don't think even you have become aware of yet. It reminds me of someone from long ago, when I was your age, and frankly, at the risk of sounding like a crass old man, it makes me feel young again. That is why I've taken an interest in you. You have a draw that you don't even know how to use to your advantage, and it's endearing, if not intoxicating."

Arthur wasn't sure what to make of that and he fidgeted self-consciously. "You're being too honest."

"That is the only way I believe in dealing with matters of the heart. There is little point in hiding one's feelings. I've learned that lesson the hard way."

"How do you mean?"

Francis hummed thoughtfully and placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder, a graze expression taking his face. "The story I am going to tell you is not a pleasant one, but I think you need to hear it. Whether or not your fate lies with me, it is something you should know."

Arthur nodded, but dared not speak. Francis removed his hand, and tucked a wayward lock of hair behind his ear. "Back before the Council was created, during the great war, I was only a little older than you are now. I was named successor to the King as a child, but by the time I came of age, he and his Queen had not yet resigned. Do you know what the common ruling period is for a monarch?"

"Rarely more than twenty years, isn't it?"

"Yes. My predecessor kept his throne for nearly fifty. He'd had two Queens in that time, and showed no signs of relinquishing his position. He as an old man, vain and greedy, and the whispers of the people began to echo the word "tyrant". There was talk of rebellion and civil war long before Gilbert's folly plunged the Kingdoms into turmoil."

"But what does this have to do with love?"

Francis smiled sadly and gazed into his lap in introspection. "My Queen had also been chosen, but was likewise locked out of her rightful claim. She was the most kind-hearted and noble woman I have known. She would have done anything for her people if she had lived long enough to serve them as Queen." He sat in silent reflection, nodding his head as if agreeing with some imaginary recounting of the events.

Finally, Arthur could remain quiet no longer. "What happened to her?"

"One night, not long after the King of Clubs had begun his strike against the Hearts, a fire broke out at the palace. Rebels had come in the darkness to overthrow the monarchy and install a new regime. They had timed it just right, waiting until a large portion of the palace guard had been dispatched to maintain control at the borders. Our forces had little chance of holding them at bay, and they ransacked the palace." Francis' voice broke and he had trouble continuing for a moment. "Their assassination attempt on the King was successful, but there were some others who were not able to escape the palace. I was lucky. I got out and was taken to safety in the country for a few months while the rebellion was dealt with. My Queen was not so fortunate. I do not know if she died in the flames, or the looters killed her, but I never saw her again. I loved her above all things, above myself, and perhaps even above my country, but I never told her. The one person I held most dear never knew because I was afraid to admit my feelings."

Turning to Arthur once more, Francis' eyes were rimmed with red, but he refused to let any tears fall. "Do you understand, now? I will never stop loving her, but if I feel something, if I find beauty in something, I must say it. I won't risk waiting too long ever again. It would be a disservice to her memory."

"I'm so sorry, Francis." Arthur whispered, throat dry and straining to speak.

Francis smiled softly and miserably and reached out to cup Arthur's cheek. He gave him a level look, waiting to see if he would pull away, then leaned in until Arthur could almost feel the brush of his lips against his own. Part of him wanted to let it happen, wanted to give the King something happy in the wake of his tale, but he screwed his eyes shut and turned away.

"I can't. I understand, but I don't... I don't feel the way you do. I'm sorry."

Arthur didn't know if he expected to be yelled at or struck, but he certainly did not expect Francis to sigh lightly and laugh to himself.

"I thought it would be this way, but I had to know for certain." He patted Arthur on the shoulder once more. "I do hope we can be friends, at least."

"That's it? Just like that, and we can be friends?"

Francis tossed his head and crossed his legs. "It is never wise to force love where there is none. There is no beauty or honour in that. You've said no, and I will respect that until the day comes that you should decide otherwise."

Arthur found himself at a loss for words again, but one question still plagued his mind. "How is it that you and Gilbert became such good friends, then, if he... well... if he hadn't stepped down-"

"Then perhaps my Queen would not have been killed? Yes, I thought that, too, at first. Even he was eager to take the blame. He came to me not long after and offered me his sword. Kill me, he'd begged, it's all my fault and I can't live with it anymore. I would have done it; I was so filled with rage and hatred and confusion, but I knew in my heart of hearts that she would not have wanted more blood to be spilt. As I said, the rebellion had been a long time coming, and it would have been unfair for me to blame Gilbert for her death. We've seen each other at our worst, the Joker and I, and I'd like to think that someday we will see each other at our best. That bond has carried us through the years, and will carry us still when I have long since resigned and he has stopped chasing after ghosts, trying to make up for the mistakes of his youth."

"I fear I have misjudged you, Francis."

Francis laughed and stood once more, offering Arthur his arm, which he took without pause. "How so?"

"Gilbert made you out to be nothing more than a flamboyant sex fiend."

"He's not wrong."

"No, he is. You're a good man. Whatever else you may do, you are good."

Pausing to twist a bright red rose from one of the bushes, Francis offered it to Arthur with a playful bow. "Thank you, Arthur. Beauty for the beautiful."

Accepting it with a smile, Arthur let Francis take his arm again and set off back toward the group at the other end of the garden. Approaching, Arthur could see that Roderich and Elizaveta had gone off somewhere, though everyone else seemed to be more or less where they had left them.

"Fraaaaanciiiiiis!" a shrill, slurred voice called, and Arthur found himself pushed aside as Lilli stumbled to hug the King around his middle. Francis swayed in support of her weight, then pushed the hair back from her eyes in an almost fatherly fashion.

"I fear you've had too much to drink, my sweet. Why don't you come lie down?"

Arthur didn't hear her reply, focused instead on Alfred, who was standing a few feet away from him and was staring at the flower in his hand with brow furrowed. Stepping forward with the King's story fresh in his mind, Arthur offered him the rose. "Here. I want you to have this." Alfred's face turned pink and he took it shyly, then pecked Arthur's cheek with greater speed and awkwardness than normal.

"Thanks, Arthur, I-"

But he was interrupted as Lilli wrapped her arms around Arthur from behind and cooed "Where's your crown Arthur? Shouldn't you have one?"

"Lilli!" Vash called warningly, and Arthur felt panic flutter in his chest, eyes seeking out Yao who was rising to his feet and trying to pick his way across the labyrinth of pillows and serving trays.

"A Queen should have a a crown, and Arthur is going to be Queen! Wait! You can borrow mine!" Lilli slurred and laughed as she placed her flower crown on Arthur's head crookedly. "See? A Queen!"

No one so much as breathed. Arthur was in shock, the wreath slumping across his forehead, and his face burning up as Alfred stared at him with mouth open and eyes wide. No one was coming to his rescue; no one was laughing and claiming it was all a joke, no one was offering any explanation. Silence, interminable, painful silence.

"Oh!" Lilli hiccuped and put her hands over her face. "I wasn't supposed to say- I'm so sorry, Arthur, I-"

"Is it true?" Alfred asked, voice cracking as he stepped closer to Arthur.

Arthur backed away in panic, tearing the crown off his head and letting it slip away through his fingers.

"Arthur, is it true?"

He looked at the faces of the Council, all frozen in various states of shock and concern, but still no one said anything.

"Arthur!"

He couldn't look at Alfred's face. He didn't want to see the anger or the hurt or the disappointment that would be there, so he ran. Without a word he ran back toward the palace, not stopping when he heard multiple voices call his name and heard footsteps pursuing him, willing himself to run faster and faster until he was reaching out for his doorknob and wrenching it open.

Arthur slammed it shut, knowing full well that Alfred was only yards behind him and he locked the door. Anne was on the sofa, knitting, and she looked up, startled by the loud bang of the door, and the subsequent banging of Alfred's fist against it as he called for Arthur again and again.

"What's happened?"

Unable to say anything, Arthur slid his back down the door until he was seated on the carpet, white-faced and out of breath. His hearing went fuzzy and then his vision tunnelled down to a pinpoint of light, dark spots blinding and disorienting him until he fell over and felt nothing at all.

A/N: It gets more romantic and mature from here. I promise... sort of.