Chapter One

'Well I have brittle bones it seems
I bite my tongue and torch my dreams'
- Candles, Daughter

The residue of summer loitered over Spades, dripping drowsy sunlight into Arthur's personal botanical gardens. One of Arthur's favourite places in the world. The gardens were a new addition to the castle grounds; Arthur had had them constructed a few years ago. To secure William's acquiescence, he had claimed it was for a newfound green thumb, really, it was because being inside the castle was inhibiting and there were few places where the walls didn't have eyes. Thus, Arthur attained his private land.

It wasn't private at all really; any of the royal servants, guests or William himself could pay a visit. Thankfully, no one dared to enter the Queen's gardens and, except from the gardener and occasionally the Jack of Spades, Arthur's collection of plants was left for his viewing pleasure only.

He permitted his thoughts to travel as strolled through the humid glasshouse, his vision crowded with bursts of exotic colours from the flowers. The glasshouse had such a sedating property about it that always made Arthur foggy-headed. It was never soundless inside but not loud enough for it to be considered sound, only a clement whir of bees pollinating honeysuckle and petals opening and closing under the sun's journey.

With the regulation of his everyday clothing, in hindsight the gardens weren't the best of places to retreat to. The entirety of his body was clad in filigree fabrics of navy and sheer white and sequinned in reflective jewels that had already been warmed by room temperature. As the rules ordained, his hands were outfitted in powder-blue gloves and he wore a ruffled collar, over a sapphire-trimmed choker, arranged about his neck so that no flesh could be seen. He was a speck of opalescent pallor amongst the liveliness of the flora.

Maybe it wasn't the wisest of his ideas but he would rather overheat than stay cooped up inside the castle.

Only here could Arthur be unguarded. No puppeteer strings pulling him in whichever direction and no audiences to appease.

Over the course of history, for one reason or another, the demands of the Spadian Queens had become rather inhuman. There could be no slip of words, no wrong steps; the Queen of Spades had to move as if walking on air, holding themselves in a way that made them unattainable, a glittering mirage held just out of reach. They must always be dressed sublimely, say as little as possible and, when they had to speak, to speak unassumingly but with purpose.

To quote William: 'Spadian Queens need only be pleasing to the eyes of the people and pleasing to the whims of the King.'

Arthur had caught another of William's 'whims' that morning, a young maid who hadn't had enough time to pull up the upper half of her uniform. She had hurdled out of William's bedroom and straight into Arthur.

The poor girl had actually raised her hands in surrender.

He had dismissed her apathetically, barely sparing her his breath, and circumnavigated around her to speak to William.

In his earlier days, Arthur became incurably upset whenever he encountered one of the King's trysts, though never in the presence of others. He would hole himself up in his quarters for days on end, the face of William's latest paramour rattling back and forth in his head. Asking himself what it was that made him so undesirable, made it so William never had any intention of loving him or even liking him. What did scullery maids and stable boys have that he didn't?

Eventually, he would be retrieved by one of his ladies in waiting when his withdrawal was noticed by William. And then he would be lectured on his discourteous behaviour.

He didn't bat an eye over encounters now; William's licentious ways had actually become a blessing. The more satisfied he was with whoever he was shagging, the less likely Arthur was to be on the receiving end of William's voracious sexual appetite.

Arthur had never seen the appeal. Monarchs couldn't reproduce while in power which made the exercises not only unpleasant but also unnecessary. As Queen, Arthur's sexual insight was limited and, other than William's unseemly rutting, what went where, the claim that it was meant to be very pleasurable and its unfathomable popularity, he knew next to nothing. For this reason, Arthur knew not why William, and the rest of the population, was so preoccupied with it and he was thankful he didn't have to partake often.

William's nocturnal activities were common knowledge throughout the lands, and that their marriage was not a match made in heaven. It never became problematic; however, as the spouses had long ago fostered a relationship that functioned like a well-oiled machine; mechanical and efficient.

This understanding, between King and Queen, meant that their kingdom had been governed harmoniously for most of their years on the throne.

To this day, Arthur couldn't decide whether he had loved William or merely the idea of him. The idea of a King who doted upon his Queen, respected his Queen and shared the Kingdom with his Queen. History communicated that there had been Spadian monarchs who had reigned side by side and loved each other, be it platonic or romantic. Some of these couples had become iconic romances, the fanciful fairy tales of Spades. King Berwald and Queen Tino. King William I and Queen Michelle.

Arthur was cleaved from his musings at the sound of the glasshouse door opening.

Yao.

He could tell by the nimbleness of the footfalls.

"Your majesty," a light, accented voice said, disturbing Arthur's haven. The Jack of Spades stood before him; his eyes dark and reproachful

Yao was Arthur's only friend and the only person that could see beyond Arthur's front. Their respective positions meant that their relationship, to the public and to William, was a professional one but they knew next to everything about one another. They never discussed their mutual dislike for their King but it was one of the many things that helped them understand each other.

"The Knighting Ceremony is about to start…," Yao informed, "As you are aware." A balmy breeze fanned out the inky hair in Yao's ponytail and his plum coloured gown swayed against his slippers.

"Yes, I know," Arthur conceded.

Yao exhaled loudly and grumbled something under his breath in his regional dialect. It was a sharp, tinkling language; Arthur imagined it would taste like the tartness of a lychee.

"Arthur, you are asking to get into trouble! You know your presence is necessary and the King will not approve if you're late."

"I wasn't intending to be late; I simply get carried away in here."

Yao's lips flattened. "You are the Queen, as I have said many times before, you cannot get carried away."

Arthur wished he would get carried away, he wished he would expand and dissipate like ripples in opaque lake water.

"How many to be knighted?"

"Three. One of them is only twenty three." That was twelve years Arthur's junior.

"Surely that's too young to be knighted?" Arthur pondered, smoothing his gloved fingers over a fuchsia petal.

"The King is very fond of him, what else matters?" Yao enquired rhetorically.

Twenty three years old was very young indeed. The individual was most likely the son of a pretentious, overfed lord or a high-ranking military officer. Becoming a Knight in Spades during William's reign wasn't a question of valour and how dedicated a person was to their King and country but rather it pertained to their social status and likelihood of becoming drinking buddies with William. Only William's inner circle, as well as their family ties, was welcome to the Knighting ceremony.

"Quite," Arthur said, "I'd best be on my way, then."

"I'll walk with you. I don't trust you to get there by yourself."

Arthur rolled his eyes playfully and led the way out of the dewy glasshouse.

The two weaved their way through the expansive patchwork of the royal grounds that stretched on further than the eye could see beyond. The shrubbery, unlike the multi-coloured clutter in the Queen's land, was manicured into symmetrical, evergreen spades and swirls. Often enough, one would pass a large, ornate fountain and patches of uniform flowerbeds; white tulips, amethyst hybrid roses and blue hydrangeas.

The grandeur of the castle was cool and hollow with its alabaster marble floors, lines of huge white-enamel chandeliers, exquisitely painted high ceilings and the intermittent glass-paned domes, allowing light to illuminate the empty rooms. The pearly statues continuously gleamed, the air smelt of dried lavender and eroded metal and the portraits of former monarchs that adorned the walls were ever watchful.

Yao and Arthur headed to the throne room and tall doors were opened for them by two poker-faced servants. Arthur was the only one to enter into the long room; however, Yao took his leave with a squeeze to Arthur's shoulder. The Jack was never present at the Knighting Ceremony.

The occupants of the room became silent at his entry and all eyes were upon him. Arthur didn't acknowledge them and walked along the centred path of Spadian blue carpet towards the raised platform where two majestic, purple-velvet embroidered thrones were situated, one smaller than the other.

"We are finally graced with your presence, my Queen," William greeted with an acerbity he knew only Arthur could detect.

Arthur glided past the Knights, various members of aristocracy and military personnel that lined the sides of the room, each of them bowing as he passed. Before the thrones, and William, were three kneeling men in smart ceremonial garb.

"You look radiant today, your majesty," someone called out to him. Arthur spied the owner of the voice immediately, Lord Chester, William's right hand man and General of the Army of Spades; he was standing closest to the King. He was a portly man, the varnished buttons of his uniform straining under the girth of his stomach, and a repugnant individual in Arthur's opinion. Arthur found it difficult to believe the man had any discernible talents other than consuming greasy food and keeping the brothels prosperous, certainly not being able to lead a formidable army or defeating anyone in combat.

It was a blessing that the tensions between Hearts and Spades had been cleared some decades ago and they were no longer in an unremitting state of war.

The General had long ago made it his personal endeavour to cause as much discomfort in Arthur as possible by making inappropriate comments at every opportunity. William found it exceptionally entertaining.

Holding his tongue, as always, Arthur eyed the General aloofly. "Thank you, Lord Chester, but it would be improper of me to accept your compliment."

"Oh, come now, Arthur, you're breaking the poor General's heart," William taunted. Lord Chester guffawed and a few of the more highly regarded members of the audience joined him.

This time, Arthur bit into his tongue lest he snap at William. Dare a Queen embarrass or oppose against the King, the actions came with severe punishment and William thoroughly abused the privilege of being able to tell off Arthur publicly without penalty.

He sat down on his throne and the Knighting Ceremony commenced, the eldest of the three men stepping forward and pledging himself to his King and country. William unsheathed his sword, the sacred sword of Albion which was a timeless artefact amongst many Spadian treasures, passed down from King to King, and with it he tapped the man on either shoulder, dubbing him a Knight of Spades.

The sword had been forged in ancient Spades for the most infamous of the monarchs, the allegedly magical Albion, a Queen it should be noted. Albion had singlehandedly slain a faction of the Diamonds army that had tried to trespass into the castle once the King had been assassinated. After succeeding in driving the Diamonds army out of Spades' borders, she ruled the Kingdom independently until her death, ten years later. She was the only Queen of Spades to have reigned without a King.

How she truly appeared was never verified due to the ambiguity of the documentation surrounding her life. Her face, nevertheless, was used as the crest of Spades and there were many priceless portraits of her, most of which hanging on the walls of castle. In the paint strokes, she looked both fairylike and fierce, bearing her bloodied sword but attired in a regal gown, her arms and neck bare and her eyes luminescent.

Arthur had read every book available about Queen Albion; he only wished he could have somehow met the woman.

Rays from the sun segmented as they passed through the great, patterned windows and Arthur became distracted by glowing dust particles and his ponderings of Queen Albion.

He was so distracted, in fact, that when he refocused, he was momentarily taken aback by the fearless stare of water-clear blue eyes.

The man was most definitely the twenty three year old Yao had spoken of. His face was so youthful and there was a freshness about him, a zeal, that twisted inside Arthur. He'd known something similar to that once.

Though the man's kneeling was a little awkward, his gaze didn't waver from Arthur, as opposed to where it should have been: on William. The glasses he wore reflected a square of sunshine and a small stray of his tawny hair wouldn't settle properly on his head. Arthur blinked and the man's lips curled widely and boyishly at him as William tapped the sword on both of his shoulders. Arthur didn't smile back; utterly shocked that this boy was smiling at him so brazenly, and in a Knighting ceremony of all places.

It was unbelievable that this disrespectful youth thought he could behave as such around the Queen.

Arthur found himself unable to even use his signature scowl on the handsome Knight.

Handsome. Where an earth had that come from?

"And you shall now, each, receive a blessing from your Queen," William announced and the line of recently knighted men bowed once more as William turned to Arthur expectantly.

The blessing of a Queen, concurred by the King, was believed to bring luck and prosperity. The Sword of Albion had supposedly been kissed by Albion herself and it was a custom for each new Queen of Spades to also kiss the sword.

Mustering as much poise as was possible after that inexplicable stunt from the Knight, he moved from his throne and towards the newly knighted, the heel of his shoes clicking daintily against the floor. For reasons beyond him, he steered himself towards that very Knight who's eyes hadn't, for one second, left Arthur.

Arthur stood as near to him as was appropriate and the Knight, standing a fair amount taller than Arthur, bent at the knee so Arthur could reach to place a kiss on his forehead.

The man's eyes fluttered shut and his smile softened. It was now Arthur that couldn't look away from him and he was caught out when the Knight opened his eyes. Arthur was close enough to uncover the scent of open fields on his skin, the dew-covered grass, the forest air and the sweetness of buttercups.

"Thank you, your majesty," the stranger murmured, his voice steady, lovely.

Arthur had spent most of his life under the scrutiny of entire nation, pinned by the burn of a magnifying glass, and he was accustomed to the exhausting amount of composure he had to retain. But this man made him feel exposed and self-conscious and Arthur had no idea as to why that would be.

"You are welcome."

Oddly, after kissing that young man, Arthur found he didn't want to grant the remaining Knights a blessing.

So, firstly, the prologue has also been rewritten but there wasn't a notification when I updated it. There's an explanation for the rewrite in the author's notes. I am sorry for the repetition but the rewrites are very different to my original work.

A few other things I want to mention:

In regards to age, Arthur is thirty five, Alfred is twenty three, Yao and William are both in their forties.

Oh, and yes, William is an OC - I didn't want Arthur to be married to any existing characters because I didn't really want to put any of the Hetalia characters in the same light, William is innately selfish and I don't think any of the Hetalia crew are the same. There will be the occasional OC, such as Lord Chester, but they won't be featured a great deal. I apologise if this bothers anyone.

The story of Queen Albion may or may not have been heavily inspired by the Arthurian legend. Trust Arthur to admire Queen Albion :3

Finally, I do have a writing/inspiration blog (link is on my profile) where I'm going to try and post images, music, etc. to assist with the imagery.

Hope this doesn't disappoint too much, I know it's been a long wait!