The clamber of death echoed throughout the city, as the old, cracked bell rang its eerie toll. Muffled voices spoke of curses and hardships that were assuredly soon to come. Some faces were plain and weathered with age, their eyes full of fear and some hints of hate. Others were youthful and had cheeks of ripe pink, full of curiosity and wild naivety. But all were each the same. When the black horse came. All would fall to their knees. For nothing, but fear. The unholy King.

A small boy stood alone, whimpering, as the black horse stopped. The man upon the horse stared down at him with eyes lit with the flames of Hades. But still, the boy did not fall like the others. His blue eyes watered with glimmering tears, and he hugged onto his delicate stuffed toy with dear life. Heads of the witnesses looked away, fearing for the boy's life, knowing that they could not help him.

The malice in the king's eyes grew dark. He craved the blood, the death of those around him. With slow movements, he held out his hand and pointed at the small child, beckoning him closer. A dark, devious smirk appeared on his face, causing even the manliest of men to shudder in fear.

With shaking knees and hesitance the size of a mountain, the boy moved closer to the evil looking horse, and looked up in terror at His Majesty. He spoke no words, as he lifted up his only companion, the stuffed bunny, to the man.

The sun rose and so did Alfred with it. The same dream haunted him over and over again, mercilessly. He sat up and wiped the dried flakes from his eyes, sighing deeply. For some reason, he couldn't allow himself to forget that day, although it had been many years ago. He was nearly twenty years of age, being only five or six when he had first met the king.

The king did not harm him, as many had feared, but instead swooped him up upon his horse and carried him away from that village. He was given as a gift to an elderly aristocratic couple that was close to the king's interests. It was a blessing, and yet, a curse. A bittersweet berry plucked from the vines of life.

His adoptive family was not cruel to him. In fact, they did their best to spoil him with the finest of everything readily available for his enjoyment and pleasure. Alfred was thankful, but he couldn't help but wonder if all the affection was misplaced or feigned. He was, after all, sent to them by the ruler of this land. One could not simply abuse a gift from the king, himself. That would be a scandal in its own right.

Like most young men, Alfred was groomed into a fine gentlemen. His studies were marvelous, a bit late due to procrastination, but still praised by his various tutors. Archery claimed his heart from day one, of course, that's all he wanted to do during his early teen years. He had an adventurous soul, and he still did. Social happenings and his status required him to be otherwise.

Many beautiful ladies of the court expressed their love for him, and he was flattered with their attention and numerous letters. There was one in particular that had caught his eye, about a year ago, but for some reason his parents immediately declined his wishes to marry her, and not long after the woman was married off to some other man. His heart felt heavy just recalling the sad expression she gave him, before she walked away from the court for the last time.

Why?

The answer came to him only a month ago.

You belong to the king.

His days were beginning to look like pages ripped from a book. No second thoughts and no reasons behind his actions. A puppet's life. Because that's really all he was going to be, unless.. He turned his head. ..No, that would only cause trouble for everyone, not just him. There would be no running away. He should be happy, any peasant would be, or at least they would think so if they could change places with him.

A single's ball was arranged for the evening. Many were excited for their chances of finding love among the many who were invited to attend. Alfred was a little more than surprised to receive an invitation, knowing that he wasn't allowed the special company of others. He was not allowed to refuse and his parents urged him to be the most charming he had ever been. If he wasn't suspicious before, he was, indeed, now.

The most finest garments his oddly joyful parents could afford itched at his backside. Money didn't always buy comfort, unfortunately. He thought of his clothes as a possible embarrassment. What if the king felt outshone and insulted? But then again, His Majesty didn't always attend his own balls, so maybe there was nothing to worry about.

Alfred was escorted inside the elegant ballroom and he stood among a group of women, listening in on a lively conversation. He smiled, as one of the women made brief eye contact with him. One by one, the ladies were each pulled into a sweet embrace and twirled around the dance floor by handsome men, both fierce and shy in nature.

A warm hand grabbed onto his own. Alfred blinked and turned to see who it was, thinking of the action to be a bit forward. He saw a man with an elaborate, green masquerade mask, smirking at him, as if amused.

"Mind I have the first dance?" The stranger asked, daringly pulling the puzzled blonde into a nearly shameful hold, one that made him blush darker than crimson.

"..I..I suppose," Alfred stammered, letting his gaze look anywhere, but not at the mysterious man, while they began to dance and move about in the middle of the room and crowd. "Do you mind if I ask why you are wearing that mask?"

"Does it not please you?"

replied the other, his voice smooth and soft, bright emeralds shining the the eyes of the mask."If it makes any difference, I will reveal myself to you, but only after one simple request."

"What would be your request?"

"A kiss."

"I'm afraid, I.."

Alfred's eyes widened. The taste of sweet wine and other delicacies awakened his senses, as the stranger stole his very first kiss away from him. It only lasted for a quick moment, and the male seemed strangely satisfied with his little victory. The masked man bowed before him and removed his disguise.

It was the king.

A/N: Review, please. .u.