Author's Notes: Aw, poor Alfred. I feel so bad (and cliche) for making the FRUKUS triangle love, but you all know it will work out in the end. Also, my stupid text things always squish together for some odd reason once I upload it, I APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE IF THAT HAPPENS! On my documents it usually doesn't but on this uploader it always does. Especially with uppercase letters and the word Yao. I have no clue why, but thank you for bringing it to my attention! Urg, I'm really made because I fear that this part of the story is really, really, slow and I am sorry about that. This is not even near the climax, even though I bet you all know what it is going to be. Or not. Maybe I give you too much credit. Anyways, this is a very short chapter, purposely. Hugs to my wonderous reviewers & readers! Keep it up! Don't forget follow my tumblr page: betweendreamsandrealityy! Be sure to check out my other stories too, or not. I'm not sure how I personally feel about this chapter, (it's a bit too angsty for my liking) but nevertheless, BetweenDreamsAndReality proudsly presents chapter 18!

Warnings: Strong language.

Disclaimer: I do not own hetalia or Cardverse AU.

"Al! Open this door immediately!" Matthew demanded pounding his fists angrily at his twin's bedchamber's door. He had purposely barricaded it with two chairs and a wardrobe to prevent anyone from getting through.

"Go away!" he called from his fort created out of ten scarlet blankets. Can I not have any alone time? "I'll break the door down!" he threatened. "And you know I will…"

What don't people understand about privacy? Alfred soughed before emerging from his quote-un-quote blanket barricade, wiggled his way through his fort of furniture and opened the door timidly. "Make this quick," he gritted closing the door behind him in case Yao or even Arthur came by.

"You are a mess," he said sympathetically and leading him over to his vanity, also known as the only piece of furniture he did not move besides the bed. "It is not proper for a King to look like this." Alfred looked in the mirror realizing Matthew was correct. His usually sheen golden hair was limp, his face was a blotchy cherry color and his sapphire eyes were distended with dark black circles engulfing them. "Can I at least get you a rag?" He nodded but refused to speak. "Excellent," Matthew stated wiping his brother's face dry with a pink towel. He joined his brother on the stool and smiled into the mirror. "You look much better now."

"Did the Queen send you?"

"N-no," he said shakily although he was not lying.

"Sorry that was a dumb question. He's probably still with that King of stealing hearts," he muttered tartly then threw a blanket over his face to shield his newly forming tears from his brother.

Matthew exhaled. "That's what I came here to talk to you about." He stepped closer to Alfred's nest of beds.

"Don't come any closer," he shouted. Matthew paused in his tracks, obeying his brother's command. "If you to convince me to join the festivities, you should leave," he said although he knew his visit was certainly not about forcing him to join the celebrations.

"I am not leaving; not without you at least." He sighed. "Look, you might not believe me but you have to trust that he does have feelings for you."

"His feelings are nothing more than his pride to his country personified in me. He couldn't love me!"

He raised a golden eyebrow. "And why is that?"

"Because I'm nothing more than a filthy peasant to him and a burden; worst of all, I can't even run away!" he said with his voice cracking after each word.

"Stop saying that! You are his King and he is your Queen and you are going to get married!"

"And that's all he sees me as: his King. His puppet."

"Now I am sure that is not true…" he said hesitating to step closer to his brother.

He snorted. "Let us look at the truth. He was out in the courtyard about to kiss Francis. That is the truth."

"Yes but-"

Through salty tears he shouted "go!"

Matthew sighed before turning on his heel and leaving his bedchamber. "Ouch!" someone shouted after he opened the large white door.

"Were you eavesdropping on us?"

"I could ask you two the same thing," Arthur said dusting off his purple colored clothes.

Matthew scowled. "What did you hear?"

"Nothing really," he lied casually.

"You know he's in there crying."

His eyes softened. "Crying?"

"How would you feel if someone ripped out your heart in front of your face? You should be happy I don't very well do that right now," he said darkly.

His eyes were fixed upon the door. "Oh bollocks. I need to talk to him!"

Matthew held up a hand to prevent him. "He is not accepting any visitors at the moment."

Arthur ignored him and pounded on the door screaming "you better open this bloody door before I tear it down!" After a silent response he slumped against the wall. "Fuck," he muttered.

"I need to be going now," Matthew said noticing Francis strolling down the hallway and scurried away in the other direction.

"Mon cher, what's wrong?" he asked Arthur who was currently hugging his knees.

"Nothing!" he shouted facing the wall. Royalty does not cry, especially if it about love. Certainly not the latter.

Francis wrapped his arms around him, just as any good friend would, because that was all Arthur saw him as.

"I really fucked thinks up, have I not?"

"I have never seen you so, how do you say it, down in the dumps," he said giggling.

He curled his lip. "Now is not the time for your obnoxious humor."

"Sorry for trying to lighten the mood," he defended.

"Just go, before you ruin anything else!"

Francis pouted. "Very well. I will be on my way then," he said walking back to the throne room muttering how stupid those two were being or how he is the savior of amour.

"Any luck?" Gilbert asked with pleading red eyes.

Matthew shook his head, letting a few loose curls fall into his face. "I'm not sure we could fix this," he said with his amethyst gaze falling into his hands.

"Fix what?" Francis asked the three Jokers whose faces were masked with shock.

Defensively, Matthew yelled "that is none of your concern!"

"Ah, mon cher, amour is always a concern of mine."

"Wait, I think he is on to something," Gilbert said with a devious grin growing on his lips.

"What are we going to do about those two?"

"What we do best!" Peter exclaimed receiving odd looks form the other three. "We do something mischievous."

To Be Continued...