If eyes could torch holes into one's back, Alfred was sure that he would have been long dead. A week had passed since his outburst at the sacrifice ritual and he could still feel people's gazes on him as he passed them by in the palace halls. He supposed he should have been used to all the attention by then, being the only legitimate son of the emperor, but never had he been scrutinized so thoroughly be so many people at the same time. Not in his own home.

Being of royal descent came with its responsibilities, however, and Alfred squared his shoulders and bared with it. The dozen of pairs of eyes hadn't been much of a burden at first, admittedly. Speaking out of turn at a religious ceremony had been his first act of singularity and it was a pleasure to know that the people went out of their way to learn all they could about him.

Never again would he be a minor addition in his father retinue- he was now of public interest on his own right.

His tutor had congratulated him the day after, smiling at him warmly as Alfred took his seat opposite him. A retired priest, Cipactli had been given the task of teaching Alfred to read, write and study the position of the stars ever since the age of four. Alfred spent countless hours with the man over the years, far more than he had ever passed privately with his father.

Cipactli was not the usual archetype of a priest. He refused meat and wine and would sleep in late during the morning rituals. He would sharply reprimand Alfred if he were to slink away from any sort of ceremony but would encourage him to break apart the speeches he would hear and ask him questions. Dozens of questions. Cipactli would refuse to say another word until Alfred thought for himself and offered him an answer.

"Don't be a fool, Alfred," the old man would caution absently every now and then, looking at him but not quite seeing him (or so Alfred would feel). "Fools are the ones who end up on the sacrificial slab."

Still, Alfred hadn't expected the man to be pleased with him after the temple fiasco. Cipactli had been a priest, after all, even if the years had dulled his memory. His smile hadn't disappeared even after Alfred had recounted the event in his own words, though. In fact, Alfred could have sworn that it had grown wider.

"Excuse me, sir, but I don't understand. Shouldn't you reprimand me for impious behavior?"

Cipactli's smile finally vanished, giving way for a small frown. Alfred thought the tutor was about to answer him, but instead the man looked away and studied the codex on the table. "Standing out among the elite is important, Alfred. When the day comes and the Council of Four have to decide who will inherit your father, they will choose someone whose name they can remember. You have made yourself recognizable and have started your journey in proving your worth."

Alfred had nodded solemnly but the words continued to echo in his head throughout the week, pinning the heavy weight of responsibility to the stares he received and thoroughly ruining any delight he might have gotten from being noticed. He hadn't realized that with one noticeable act he had unintentionally declared war on anyone else who aspired to claim the throne.

He wasn't ready for that kind of strategic thinking quite yet. He was only eighteen, and his father was in his prime.

The sun was setting in the distance as Alfred stepped into his bedroom, allowing the blanket to fall back to place after he had pushed through the door frame. He had been out hunting with a group of men from the palace and his fingernails were caked with dirt. His tilma was splattered with quickly drying bloodstains from that one time when he had been sure that the animal was dead, but as he had drawn close to his prey, it struggled in his arms and smeared blood all over him.

Alfred had only meant to remove his necklace and arm band before heading towards the steam bath. He would have done just that, too, if not for the man crouching in front of his hearth. Alfred paused, not having expected a servant to be in his room at such a late hour, but proceeded to make his way across the room to his desk, ignoring the other's presence according to protocol.

He never made it to his desk, however, once he observed in the corner of his eye how the man stood up and dusted his tunic from the ashes. The blond hair Alfred had first noticed had left him with an unsettling feeling, but as the man turned around and revealed his face, Alfred saw them.

The green eyes.

"You!" he exclaimed, caught completely off guard. He tried to calm his voice, but the pitch which came out was still a bit higher than he would have liked. "You're the guy from the ceremony!"

The man flinched and turned around to face him fully before bowing low. Even as he straightened back up, he kept his eyes downcast, despite Alfred's desire to see them clearly. "You're highness," the man murmured dutifully.

Alfred had thought about the man he had saved from having his life end on the altar frequently. He had known that he was somewhere in the palace, as he had ordered, but hadn't dared to seek him out. The notion of a prince going out of his way to find a mere slave was absurd.

Fate had dealt him a fair hand, apparently, and granted him the opportunity of meeting his charity case purely by coincidence. Now that he had his chance, though, Alfred wasn't quite sure what to do with it.

Remembering his place, Alfred straightened his back and forced himself to measure out his words carefully. "I see you have been integrated into the palace's workforce," he said eventually, casting a look about him and noting how clean the stone floor was. "You were assigned my room?"

The man nodded, keeping his arms steadily at his sides "Yes, your highness. I was ordered to tidy up your room before your return. I apologize that I have not finished in time and have inconvenienced you."

Alfred shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. "It's alright, the party returned earlier than expected. It isn't your fault." He paused, wondering briefly when he had become so chatty with the servants. He hadn't exchanged more than a few words with one since he had been a child. He really should just send the man away.

But before that... "Tell me, what is your name?"

For the first time since the man had turned to face him, he raised his eyes to meet his and Alfred was rewarded with demure green. He almost didn't notice the small frown on the other's face, as it had creased his features for only a brief moment before smoothing back into blank compliance. "My name is Arthur."

They continued to look at each other before Arthur must have fully realized who he was speaking to and lowered his eyes to the ground once more. Alfred shifted in his place and cast a wistful look at the door frame a short way behind the other man.

"You may go," he relented after a short silence, itching to leave as well. Somehow, this encounter hadn't gone at all as he had thought it would go. He hadn't expected it to be so awkward.

Arthur inclined his head in obeisance and turned to leave, breaching the distance between him and the exit and going as far to press his hand to the material hanging from the door frame before he was stopped. Alfred called out to him and ordered him to 'wait!'

The man half turned in his direction and looked at him questioningly. Alfred cursed himself for voicing his thought, but now that it had gotten him Arthur's attention, he simply had to know.

"Aren't you going to thank me?" he blurted out, digging his nails into the palms of his hands. "I saved your life, you know. Aren't you thankful that I spared you?"

Arthur met his gaze without hesitation this time and though his face remained impassive, his voice was firm. "No, I'm not," he replied quietly, turning back and pushing past the fabric, leaving Alfred gaping behind.

Seeing that I had decided to continue this into a full multi-chap fic, I came to the conclusion that I actually had to do some research and boy did I learn a lot! I had to look up all kind of things while writing and I kept realizing that the Aztec world is so very different from all the other ancient societies I've read about it the past. Their social structure and hierarchy differs in many ways from ancient Egypt's, for example, especially when it comes to succession and slavery.

Despite said research, I do not claim to accurately portray their society, so don't go writing papers for school based on what you learn from this fic, mind you xD Not saying I'm not going to aim for veracity, but I'm going to have to bend and twist some things to fit the story. Just warning you.

Aside from that, thank you so much for reading! 3 I'd really love to hear back from you, so any comments are greatly appreciated!