Edward felt the corner of his mouth lift into a wry smile.

'He can be maddening at times,' he said to no one in particular. Of course, no one was here to contradict him. He did walk away from his fiancee and flat out told his cortege's that he was only going to use the facilities and he'd like to maintain what's left of his privacy when he went to use the loo.

Jana would take his side and agree wholehearted that Roy can be insufferable, but Piero would counter attack any of Jana's claims with, 'you really can't put a price on that kind of love.' Edward thinks that he's spending too much time with his guards already because how the hell are they are soundly debating in his head too.

Edward loves Roy, and the bastard loves him just as fiercely. And though he's intelligent and rational he has the penchant for acting foolish when it comes to love.

A love admittedly Edward would not trade for anything or he would not trade Roy for anyone else.

But singing? He sang, he did just that, and it was infuriating and just the thing Edward should expect from him.

Edward frowned over the apparent reason; he was trying to cheer him up.

He needed cheering up, now; and Roy was trying to take Edward's mind away from his grievances with everything surrounding the Order. Roy had already expressional made his discontent known earlier in the morning unleashing an overwhelming amount his power after Van showed him the newest letter delivered to his office the day before.

His dark eyes had swept over the letter and with deep disgust, he loathly marveled at the words written, "They want to 'cast me in the pits of hell,' and they want to 'impress that Edward is still made of purity.'"

Automatically Edward had to mollify his anger and tried to persuade him to calm the fuck down. Roy had done so for a minute at the most before Edward was stricken with an overwhelming amount of abhorrence directed to the Order. Not even Van could control Roy and Edward; he was reeling in Roy's energy, trying to placate a sense of serenity through their bond. But that did nothing whatsoever as he was hit over and over again with tremendous amounts of strong feelings. He guesses the response had a significant link back to Truth. It was too much as he'd watched his fiancée power that was in check before they'd joined as one become unrestrained because of what he was feeling, the pure awareness: always to protect Edward.

It was something to behold. Something to instill fear in anyone who dared to say, 'I'd witness the Flame's real power, and it's frightening, it's dangerous, he is dangerous.'

It was a crackle of electricity, the link between them had become knowing as if it knew of the imminent dangers descending upon Edward and his protector. Edward's tattoo was burning, he wanted then to rip his shirt away from his skin for fear that it would catch flames. His father reassurances to Roy had gone unheard, as flames licked at his fingertips, without him having to snap his fingers. He was unstable as a torrent of flames surrounded him feeding off his animosity, his contempt for Order, for all before them who sought out 'a taste of the sun' to cry mercy, to perish for their selfish way of thinking.

For a moment it appeared that not even Edward could assuage him. He'd never felt so powerless in life before this as he was continuously bombarded with Roy's emotions, as he watched Roy's eyes glazed over casting a fiery glance at the letter and incinerated it in a smoldering heap of ashes. It was then that seeing the paper engulfed with flames that Edward felt his power as if it had spoken to him and his body had instinctively listened, he'd thrown his hands out and pulled Roy in his embrace. Edward had distinctly heard his father cried out, "Edward, don't! You don't know the limit of his power…"

The flames had started to ebb, to lose their fervor and Edward, he'd whispered, "Roy, do you feel my love? It's okay. I'm here. I'm okay, and we are okay."

Curious thing— at that moment Edward had a wonderful feeling as he held onto to Roy. The flames were pulsing around him, but they weren't hot, they did not burn, they felt warm and familiar. Edward felt solid and safe as he'd cling to Roy, whispering calming words in his ear.

His dad had sighed his relief after seeing Edward unhurt, "Edward, you scared me half to death, pulling a stunt like that— What if the flames had…and Roy, you damn idiot. We don't know the extent of your power, what if you had injured Edward?"

"Of course, I didn't mean to use my alchemy," Roy had said apologetically. "It just happened on its volition, like a defense mechanism and Van, I'd never in this life or another hurt Edward."

The morning, however, Edward had remained close to Roy, through the parade and other festivities. He'd mostly done it out of fear, not for himself but people around him. Until this business with the Order is laid to rest, he prefers to have his idiot fiancee power comfortably under control.

As a matter of course, not even himself could have discerned that he is beyond trouble about the Order. They have disrupted his life, have threatened his life, and from the latest letter, they planned on rectifying his involvement with Roy.

The fuckers!

Edward whirled around at the sound of footsteps coming from behind him, taking his eyes away from looking at folks dancing under a gazebo and others waiting idly by for the fireworks to begin.

It was not Roy because this isn't his aura, one that Edward felt whenever Roy is nearby or could sense before he sees him. This person's aura was different. The energy they were generating was familiar, though. As of late Edward's empath nature acknowledges everyone around him energy, but without a doubt the familiarity of this one instinctually had him thinking about escaping.

He removed himself from the balcony overlooking the festival grounds and was about to make haste back towards the ballroom.

Shit!

Too late!

"Leaving him at the altar, already?" Prince Claudio Rico asked as he approached Edward. He suppressed a wicked mocking smile while Edward regarded him as he spoke, "I guess the happy couple have stumble against the rocky shores or perhaps crash."

"Thank you for those rather unpleasant sympathetic words, but they are not needed," Edward said sharply. "You know, stalking is very unbecoming of a crowned prince! Entertaining but woefully disturbing!"

"As if his Excellency doesn't crave the attention," the prince smirked.

"Hardly," Edward replied annoyed by the accusation. "I think you may have confused me with yourself. I'm hardly the poster child for flaunting my position..."

"Isn't that honor already associated with the Flame," Claudio spat, "your fiancée, who is not with his betroth and whom I saw moments ago chatting with a lovely blond woman?"

"How galling it must be for your feign lies," Edward snarled, "do you think that anything who say would dissuade me from marrying him?"

"Lies you say! I say excuses," Claudio countered, "you know very well that Roy Mustang is still a womanizing scoundrel. To think the next Fuhrer in line would fall for him. I wonder what he's holding over your head?"

"Stop it!" Edward cut in sharply; his emotions were starting to unravel. It is one thing to listen to someone talk about Roy and dismiss them all together. But then it's another when you are feeling their antipathy for him— and the prince was harboring an abundant amount of enmity towards Roy. "You don't have a fucking clue what you are speaking of— You know what, why I am fucking talking to you? I don't owe you any explanations on my engagement. It's only because of political obligation that I'm tolerating your presence." Edward continued in a clipped tone, "I hope I make myself clear that we will never have anything together, besides a relationship for the sake of our country. I don't know where you thought that we were anything else other than allies. I'm with General Mustang, as you are aware already, and we are getting married."

Edward turned to leave, and the Prince grasped his arm tugging him back under the canopy of the balcony and further into a darkened corner. For a second Edward gaped at him in surprise, then he tried to jerked his hand free from the Prince's hold.

"Unhand me," he said in a voice of all ice and venom. Edward glared into the prince's eyes, and then he felt something. A lot of something and something else that was hiding beneath all the conflicting emotions he was giving off. A foreboding feeling came over him, but also a sense of remorse and trepidation. Edward then tried to wriggle free, but the prince held on tighter, squeezing his arm just above his wrist and a little below his elbow.

It was too much, and Edward could do something, but currently he was trapped in the muddled business the Prince's mixed emotions. And with his new talent to feel what others are feeling, it often overshadowed his will to punch and ask questions later to something closer resembling, listen and then act appropriately.

He indubitable has the capability to disarm the prince efficiently, but then again, being an empath and as one would expect Claudio Rico has diplomatic immunity and such, which ultimately should not be constituted in this situation because case in point this is as straightforward as it gets: harassment.

"Let me go, Prince Claudio!" Edward said again.

"I'm sorry Edward I cannot do that," he said tightening his grip firmly around his arm, pulling Edward closer, his back now pressed against his chest, unrelenting to Edward's dismay. "I need you, Edward, because if it is not you, then it's her."

Edward thoughts flickered to several conclusions, and he turned to the prince, "Her?"

"Yes, her! My sister!"

Edward's eyes widen with surprise, then flash quickly with fear as the Prince's hand came up to his mouth and pressed a moistened handkerchief to his lips. Edward pulled back his head quickly just as it touch his lips and all rational thought quickly hampered down as his life was now in danger.

His senses on full alert, he tried again to get free from the Prince's hold, but he was anticipating Edward's next move. The Prince then jerked Edward's left arm backward and braced it tightly against his back causing his elbow to rotate. Edward thought he heard the bones in his shoulder pop and crack. The pain that shot straight through his body confirms his thought. The fucker had just dislocated his arm. "Feisty, are we. Edward this would work in both our favors if you just hold still for a moment."

"Hold still you say! Is that a request from a sane, respectable Prince or a command of my evident kidnapper?" Edward asked, wincing from the pain and the numbness from having undergone involuntary shoulder replacement and if that was adding injury to fucking insult, he remains trapped in the Prince's grip. "You said your sister? I thought you'd told me she'd stayed at your father's bedside. Care to explain what the hell she has to do with me getting the royal treatment or is this how you handle things in Aerugo if the intent personage you were after did not put out?"

"You will in due time, that if you're still around to hear my tales of despondency and if you must, Edward, I've never had to pursue anyone. The selection of both male and female was ubiquitous in my presence."

"Supercilious!" Edward relented with a sigh, "And here I thought that you were not unassuming. I'm clearly in the wrong. Despondency is that another way of saying that the crowned prince is unhappy because he did get what he wanted?"

"I've heard that that's a bad habit of his excellence, opening his mouth and jumping to conclusions, or maybe you've only opened your mouth when you're..."

Edward free hand came up, his right and he twisted himself around and punched the bastard Prince on the left side of his face.

His grip on Edward slackened as he cried out, "You little shit!" Blood shot out from his mouth and into the air, "You'll pay for that!"

"I very much doubt it," Edward barked feeling refreshed as his body had willed itself to heal, his displaced humerus already snug into its socket.

He was all too familiar with the experience of broken bones, joints slipping in and out whenever he'd sparred with Ai, Magnus, and even his brother. More or less that was the strange thing about being immortal, or perhaps just weirdly strange in Edward's case. He was all but one of three immortals and Al, he never quite had this problem, although Al was always too careful for his own good. Roy recently acquired the status of immortality had yet to have the same occurrences as Edward biology makeup which undeniable appeared magnetized for; that is getting himself hurt and having his body undergo recurrent healing spells.

What is the purpose of his immortality if he couldn't altogether avoid the apparently undefined clause? A clause so freaking transparent, cryptic in every sense of the word that vaguely outlines, he can still get injured, guaranteed assured real pain and if that was not a clincher, in the fine print; on the bright side— his body heals itself. Not instantaneously, but gave or take a few minutes— just enough time for him to feel what it is like to experience pain.

It could be discerned as a divine sanction, granted by 'Truth' himself when he'd set about creating the Golden Ones— that they too had to know what real suffering is like but it in a situation such as this one it was a limitation. He did not need to know what physical pain felt like anymore because being afflicted with empathy abilities ensured that he has a definitive feeling of the thoughts, emotions and the energy of people around him. His sensitivity to connect with others and understand them was already taxing on his body, save for Roy who shares some of the burdens. Another one of the supernatural elements that remain mystifying.

And like the Prince, who was starting to regain his composure was putting a strain on Edward's personal emotions with his unstable energy. He winced in pain as he shifted his jaw back and forth and Edward too made a face. Edward could not have that— have him regain his faculties, not if the bastard Prince intended to carry out his planned attempt at kidnapping him. Failed and thwarted by his adaptability in getting out sticky situations, but nevertheless still a thought out plan.

He was still in a pickle, and although his shoulder had healed, he still had the matter of getting himself extricated from the Prince's clutches.

Fueled with a healthy dose of adrenaline and displeasure at the audacity of the fucking Prince boldness to abduct him and saying what he did about Edward using his mouth to do unspeakable acts, he punched him in the side of his ribcage. That certainly did the job, as the Prince doubled over releasing Edward's left arm when his hand flew to his ribs.

It took a second for him to realize what he'd done, letting go Edward who had already sidestepped away from him. The Prince then attempted to grab for Edward, faltering in his step, holding his side, and grimacing as it looked like the blow Edward landed to his ribs was causing him significant distress— Edward daresay and rightfully deserved. He was in for a surprise if he expects Edward to surrender to his whims and taken away from his home and least, by the crowned Prince, a diplomat, a guest of their country—

Damn!

Where did this go wrong?

Why was he trying— unless— he did say, 'I need you, Edward, because if it is not you, then it's her,' his sister?

His sister and that unease in his aura's temperament? Edward thought questionably would suggest that something had befallen him.

And still, the question remains why did he need Edward and what exactly happened to his sister?

"Your, sister," Edward prodded making sure to leave a fair distance between him and the Prince in case he gets the idea of trying to recapture him, "where is she?"

"She is of no concern to you," he said twisting his mouth in a sneer, "however, if you are thoroughly concern about her well being and of course duty and all, expectant of the Fuhrer's son, why don't you come with me, willingly. I do hope, and I'd fail to ask earlier, that you consider the request because I estimate you'd preferably have it be me or rather my companions who will not be so forthright in their extraction," he added in a hard-bitten voice.

He wasn't going to back down— Edward could make a run for it, but why should he, this was his god-forsaken house, and where the fuck was, his guard? He thought by now Magnus would have suspected that he was danger considering he'd applied to Edward's jacket earlier in the day an array for precognitive sight.

And Roy—

His protector—

Edward is relieved that he's not here, keeping in mind how he feels about the Prince and what harm can come of him if Roy felt Edward's life was truly in peril.

The way the Prince spoke his words, the ever present extrasensory perception that kept telling him to get the fuck away from him. And his aura, it is continuously signaling, contradictory as best, and fucking nauseating foretells Edward of malice and a touch of triumph. It is also written in the hard bite of his jaw, as he spat a copious amount of blood out of his mouth and the way his stance is prone to the defense.

"What are you fuck are you talking about now? Companions?" Edward asked and shuddered as a sense of dread washes over his body. He felt disgust and revulsion as the Prince emotions continued to twist themselves in and around Edward and just when he thought that this nightmarish feeling could not get any worse, he was receiving another amount of complex emotions.

In his peripheral vision, he could see darkened shapes materializing, and then the Prince laughed harshly, "Ahh my companions, the ones I'd hope to deliver you to— Unbidden arrival, but I suppose since they could not wait for their prize, I think introductions are in order."

Someone spoke, voice cold and tight, "Enough Prince!" Edward swallowed convulsively and tried not to choke on the taste of bile that was threatening to make him gag. The Prince flinched and bent his head acknowledging the person and at the same time his energy gave off a blast of intense hostility towards the man.

So it was not only towards him and Roy that the Prince look down on, but he also disapproved of something that gravely involved the man speaking to him.

Edward turns his face toward the person addressing the Prince and when his eyes fell upon the person— a man, lanky with a sour face, eyes glinting with eagerness, and a slightly twisted smile of evil delight, he staggered backward. He felt off balance as his entire body sparkled with readiness to preserve itself. And this was a not a relay because of the man's odious energy. It was like how Roy had explained earlier why he'd activated his alchemy unconsciously; a defense mechanism put in place to have qualities to safeguard the Golden One. If ever a situation arises creating the impression that Edward's life was facing a crisis it would set in motion the requisite to defend and secure— as in per se his aversion for the man standing before him.

"Little Golden One," came a shrewd, cold voice, "his eternity is even more ethereal in person than I'd imagine." And he looked around to the shadows that had materialized confirming to be five other individuals all decked out in robes and looking pleasantly gleeful feasting their eyes upon Edward. He felt sick, and impulsively he wanted to throw up.

The Order!