Alfred rolled a pen back and forth between his hands, watching it as it moved across his desk as if he was trying to put himself in a trance. He focused on the small details he would normally not care about, or the the small things he had never noticed before. How the light reflected off it almost perfectly. How it seemed to roll perfectly on the flat surface. How the golden nib was still perfectly clean despite it constantly being used. Still no matter how hard he tried to focus on it, no matter what detail he tried to force his attention on, he couldn’t get his mind off Arthur, and every time he thought about Arthur he felt really weird and confused.

Why though? All Arthur said was that he want to touch his hair. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal. Why did a request like that make him feel so strange? People had ruffled his hair before, some had even petted him and he wasn’t too bothered by it, so why was it that when Arthur asked him flat out he suddenly lost the ability to speak and was unable to think straight? He tried to think of an answer but he wasn’t sure what the answer was, and he wasn’t even certain where to start looking for one.

“Were you listening Alfred?”

Alfred looked up to see Yao glaring at him with fiery golden eyes whilst Francis was casually sitting on a nearby armchair. “Sorry, what now?”

Yao rolled his eyes and groaned, slapping his arms against his sides. “I said, what were you thinking bringing a Joker of all things into a fair filled with children!? We were lucky that no one is complaining that you exposed them to one, they’re all assuming he was just extra entertainment!”

“It wasn’t exactly planned,” said Francis, trying to defend Alfred, “Besides, it’s not as if he damaged anything... apart from my limited edition silk blouse from the Diamond Kingdom’s top designer. They don’t make these anymore you know.”

“That’s not the point,” huffed Yao, ignoring the offended gasp that Francis emitted, “Jokers are unpredictable and dangerous if not properly controlled! We could’ve had a major incident on our hands, we’re lucky that he didn’t hurt anyone. What were you thinking of bringing one in around children? What if one of them got hurt?”

“Jokers are forbidden from harming anyone,” muttered Francis.

“They find ways,” argued Yao, “just don’t ever summon one again without consulting me first Alfred! We’ve got the Heart Court coming tomorrow and I don’t want them coming with the idea that the Spade King would randomly summon a Joker. Alright!?”

Alfred had returned his attention to the pen during the whole conversation, now twirling it around with his fingers. He only looked up when he realised how quiet it had gotten. “Sorry... what?”

In a situation like this Yao would’ve shouted at him for not paying attention or even snatch the pen off him, but the Jack could sense that something was off. He glanced over at Francis who had now risen out of his seat and walked over to join him, the pair of them staring at the distracted young King.

“Alfred?”

“Hmmm?” Alfred wasn’t looking up, he just continued to toy with the pen.

Francis realised that his mind was elsewhere and something was telling him it was regarding a personal issue, an issue that needed a delicate and experienced touch. He turned to Yao and patted him on the shoulder. “Why don’t you go and take a break, I think your King and I need to have a little talk.”

Yao frowned but didn’t argue, there was some work he had to finish off and he wanted to finish it before the sun set. He politely excused himself and left the two King’s alone. Francis returned his attention to Alfred, snatching the pen out of his hand and noticing that it took him five seconds to realise his own was missing from his hands.

“Hey,” responded Alfred unenthusiastically.

Francis bopped him on the head with the very pen he took before retaking his seat. “Alfred my dear, you’re off in your own little world and something tells me it has something to do with your mystery gardener.”

Alfred cringed. “N-no.”

“Oh really?” Francis raised a single brow, knowing full well that he was correct. “Then why are you off in la la land? I know it’s nothing to do with your investigation, otherwise you’d have more wrinkles on your face and right now your face is as pink as a peach. Come now Alfred, you can talk to me.”

Alfred fidgeted for a moment, wondering what he should say. He felt embarrassed for some reason but he really wanted to get it all off his chest. Francis was a very wise person and maybe he could help him figure out why his mind was trapped in a whirlpool of confusing thoughts. This was nothing like the investigation regarding the missing Queen, this one just felt really awkward.

“Francis,” he began, “what would you do if I suddenly asked you if I could... touch your hair.”

Francis gasped and shielded his hair protectively. “I would slap you across your chubby face! I would never let your sticky sweet covered fingers come anywhere near my beautiful hair!”

It was almost humorous at how Francis was protective of his body. “I wear gloves,” huffed Alfred as he wiggled his fingers.

“I wouldn’t risk it!”

“Look, I’m just asking how would you respond.”

“I just showed you! I don’t like people touching my hair... unless it was a fair lady of course.”

Alfred sighed and rubbed his brow. “I was only asking because... someone asked... me.”

Then made Francis lower his guard. “Really? Your mystery gardener?”

“Yeah... and it made me feel... weird.” It was the only way Alfred could describe how he felt. “It didn’t make me angry, or disgusted... I just... I don’t know what I felt.”

Francis began scooting his chair closer so he plant his elbows upon the desk and rest his head upon the palm of his hands, his blue eyes almost looked like they were sparkling. “Weird how? What were your symptoms? Tight chest? Hard to breath? Mind a complete mess?”

“Y-yes,” replied Alfred, surprised that Francis knew what he had experienced. “How’d you know?”

Francis sat up and laughed. “My friend, I know exactly what you’ve got and you’ve got it bad.” He then wiggled his finger, beckoning Alfred to come closer so he could whisper in his ear.

“You’re in love.”

“What!?” Alfred jerked back. “What the hell fo you mean in... in l-love? I’m not in love! You’re lying! Have you speaking to that florist behind my back?”

Francis couldn’t help but laugh out loud as Alfred became terribly flustered and defensive. “It’s so obvious,” he declared with a grin, “your mind is currently lost in another world, your heart flutters every time you think about whoever it is who has made you feel this way.”

“I do not!” Alfred sunk into his chair and folded his arms, not realising his cheeks were turning red.

“Ok then,” snorted Francis, “how would you feel if I asked if I could touch your hair?”

“I’d be creeped out.”

“I’ll ignore that for now... so then how would you feel if someone like Yao or Ivan, or even Ludwig, wanted to touch your hair?”

Alfred thought about that for a moment. If Yao asked he’d be scared that he was going to rip his hair out. If Ivan asked then he’d start running out of fear, and if Ludwig asked he’d be more curious as to why given his nature. Strange. He had a good idea how he would react if others asked him, so why was it then when Arthur asked him it made him feel odd? It didn’t disgust him, it didn’t fill him with dread and he wasn’t feeling offended. He couldn’t even begin to think of how to describe this feeling. Still, that couldn’t mean he liked him like that, Arthur was just a good friend with strange habits. Was it common for friends to ask to stroke your hair? It did come out of the blue and it was from Arthur, and he wasn’t exactly normal. Arthur didn’t exactly grew up with a lot of friends according to what he told him, so maybe he was a bit clueless in socialising or something.

“Look, I got asked by a guy who’s kinda weird and it was after we had a little argument, it just stunned me that’s all,” insisted Alfred.

Francis didn’t seem convinced. “So it was this Arthur fellow who asked you?”

“Yes,” replied Alfred.

“And it was after an argument? What about?”

Alfred explained to Francis how Arthur overreacted to some news regarding his investigation in their mysterious meetings, the other man thinking that the only reason Alfred was investigating was so to stop their visits. How he shouted at him and then started crying, admitting that Alfred’s company was the only thing that kept him sane in his little garden. He wouldn’t stop crying until he promised that even if he did solve the mystery, he wouldn’t stop visiting him.

Francis listened carefully, nodding his head at every detail. “So he got upset when he assumed you wanted to stop your visits?”

“I know right,” chuckled Alfred, “I swear that guy can overreact way too much sometimes.”

“And then he asked about your hair?”

“It was a little more... um... well, we just talked about meeting up for real and he said he wanted to know how soft my hair was... by running his hand through it... weird right?” Alfred try to sound casual but couldn’t control his flushing cheeks.

Francis merely smirked as he gazed at Alfred. “Well you might be in denial about it Alfred, but I can tell you one thing about this Arthur chap.”

“And what’s that?”

“Simple.” Francis sat up again. “He’s in love with you.”

That revelation made Alfred lean back in his chair do much that both he and chair fell over. He scrambled back up and stared straight into the Diamond King’s eyes. “WHAT!?”

Francis just shrugged. “A lonely man who longs for your company, gets upset over the possibility he might never see you again, and the obvious clue that he wants to feel your hair and flat out told you. I mean you’ve been seeing him for weeks right? I don’t need to see this man face to face to know that he’s head over heels in love with you.”

Alfred wanted to say something but he couldn’t get his voice to work. His lips quivered and his jaw almost went completely slack. Just the very idea that Francis suggested was making his stomach perform somersaults and his head spin like crazy. He felt hot and almost uncomfortable, even his legs trembled a little as he finally managed to force out a sentence.

“He’s... in love with me?”

Even when he said it he could feel his cheeks burn. The very idea that Arthur felt this way about him made those weird feelings come back only they had intensified. Did Arthur actually feel that way about him? Was that why he acted so bizarre during their last meeting? No, that couldn’t be it, it couldn’t be that simple. Sure Francis was experience when it came to matters of the heart, but he had never even met Arthur and he couldn’t be able to tell how someone felt just by hearing about one certain experience.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” huffed Alfred, taking his seat and tried to recompose himself. “There is no way that he could be in love with me, he just enjoys my company as a friend.”

“How would you know?” Francis still appeared smug and confident about his prediction. “You didn’t even realise when a young girl at your 16th birthday party had a huge crush on you.”

Alfred darted his eyes away from Francis for a second as he thought of a response. “I thought she was just being clingy.”

“She batted her eyelids at you and was very direct.”

“I thought she had some eye disorder when she did that.”

“She even admitted to liking you.”

“So did everyone else!”

“Anyway, I think you and this Arthur have developed special feelings for each other and I think he’s the one who’s making the first move.”

“N-no we haven’t, and he was just being weird. He has a habit of doing that.”

“So you know how he truly feels about you?”

“No, but-... look, he doesn’t like me like that.”

“Alfred just tell me how you feel when you’re with him.”

The young King sighed as he thought back to those hours he spent with Arthur in his garden. “There are times when I’m at peace whilst I’m there, then there are times we argue and fight but we eventually make up. He sometimes helps me and I help him. He makes me laugh sometimes, he’s actually really funny when he’s having a fit. I enjoy the times he sings...”

“He sings?”

“Hmm mmm, he does,” sighed Alfred, not realising he was now leaning upon his desk, his eyes staring off into space. “He sings for his garden, and he likes to write his own songs. He’s actually got a nice singing voice, you’d like it.”

“What colour are his eyes?”

“Green... like emeralds.”

“His hair?”

“Messy... and golden, like wheat fields on a summers day.”

“Is he tall? Short? Bulky?”

“He’s a little shorter than me and he’s really thin. His skin is ridiculously pale it’s almost like snow. He actually likes to dress real smart, he’s even embroidered his waistcoats with these beautiful patterns.”

“He can sew?”

“He has so many talents... except cooking. Apparently he can’t cook to save his own life. I’d probably eat his food to see what it’s like. He’d probably get angry at me if I spat it out.”

“What else can he do?”

“He... makes me laugh... gets rid of all the worries and doubts in my mind... he’s actually older then me you know, but I never got his actual age. He tells me the most interesting stories, we play chess but he has to move my pieces. There are days when I actually look forward to going to see him and when I’m in that garden with him I just feel... so happy.”

Francis couldn’t resist snorting a laugh upon seeing Alfred’s face as he spoke of his special friend. “You are so in love.”

“I am not,” huffed Alfred, sitting back up. “He’s just a really good friend. Don’t you have really good friends?”

Francis was growing weary with his stubbornness and tried a new approach. “What if I were to meet with this Arthur, and I decide to woo him?”

That actually made Alfred shudder. “What? You?”

“Why not? You made him sound rather attractive, he might be my type.”

“N-no, he’s not your type!”

“Oh, so you know what kind of men I like now?”

“I know that Arthur isn’t your type.”

“Oh, so I can’t handle him? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Arthur is way too stubborn for you, he doesn’t even like beards.”

“How would you know!?”

“He told me, he doesn’t like beards. He thinks they’re gross.”

Francis let out a loud agitated sigh and fell back into his chair, both fed up with the young King and offended that someone he never met thought his beard was gross. Trying to convince Alfred that he had a painfully obvious attraction to his mystery gardener was like slamming your head against a wall hoping it would crack open, it was impossible. Alfred was too stubborn and ignorant when it came to the feelings of others, he wouldn’t know if he was in love unless it came up and smacked him across the face. It was actually pointless to continue, and he didn’t want a headache before going to bed. He could only hope that Alfred would eventually figure it out for his own sake and for the sake of this Arthur fellow.

“Alfred, being in love... there is no shame in it. Sure you might be in love and you say you’re not, but sometimes people don’t realise it. You might not even be in love, I can’t tell you how to feel or help you understand it. When you realise what you’re feeling your heart will just know and go, oh I understand now.” With that said and done, Francis patted him on the shoulder and took his leave, leaving Alfred alone with a lot on his mind.

Alfred sat at his desk and thought about what the Diamond King had told him, trying to make sense of all of it. It couldn’t be that simple, could it? He couldn’t be in love, Arthur just confused him with his strange request. That was it, he just got confused and didn’t know how to handle it, and there was no way Arthur was in love with him. Arthur was just a strange man who had a very strange personality he hid behind his polite and gentlemanly facade. It wasn’t love, it was just a complication of stupid coincidences that meant nothing.

“I’m not in love,” he snorted, taking his pen and tossing it onto a pile of paperwork. “I’m just... thrown off, that’s it.”

Convinced that it was just a mixture of strange thoughts and feelings stirred up by Francis and his silly diagnoses, Alfred rose from his desk and went for a walk to purge his mind of them. He walked through hallways, passed by rooms, strolled through gardens and courtyards, he went wherever his feet took him. He had no destination, he just kept walking as if he hoped that every step he took would slowly fix his troubled thoughts. In fact he tried not to think about Arthur all together as he was the source of these feelings, and tried to push everything about him into the back of his mind. He even tried to think of other things to help him forget about it all, like what was for dinner or what movie should he watch this evening or what video game he should play before bed.

However everywhere he went on his walk around the palace, something reminded him of Arthur and when he remembered Arthur, those feelings came back. A vase of fresh roses reminded him of when he helped him with his floral problem for the dinner party. The fact that they were supplied by the florist Madame Bleu, who even accused him of having special feelings for someone, made it all worse. He went into one of the morning rooms and spotted a tea set upon the table, making him remember how much Arthur loved his tea. Hearing one of the maids sing whilst she worked reminded him of how Arthur was a wonderful singer. Before he realised he had picked up his pace and was walking faster and faster, trying to escape all these memories he wanted to push away.

“Dammit, dammit, dammit,” he hissed at himself, finding it near impossible that he couldn’t get Arthur out of his mind.

He felt weird, like he was sick but didn’t have a headache or stomachache. Beads of sweat were rolling down his back and his heart was thumping hard and loud, he was actually worried someone could hear it.

“I need to get him out of my head,” he groaned as he slapped his temples in a desperate attempt to clear his mind, “he’s messing with me, they all are. Why is he making me feel like this? Did he curse me? I bet he cursed me, I don’t want to see him ever again! Screw that tea drinking bastard, he can go to hell! There is no way that I would ever fall for such a weird jerk!”

When he said that out loud he felt a pain in his chest and a new feeling washed over him, a feeling that left him with an empty sensation in his chest. He suddenly realised he hated himself for what he said but he didn’t understand it, he didn’t understand any of it. With a loud groan he kept walking faster and faster until he broke into a sprint, dashing into his room and dived straight into his bed, screaming into his pillow. He slammed his fists against the sheets and kicked his feet as these emotions he had were only making him feel angry and confused, he looked like a giant child throwing a tantrum.

Then he finally ceased moving and laid very still upon his bed, his face still buried in his pillow. With a loud huff he rolled over so he could stare up at the ceiling. He still couldn’t process these feelings or these thoughts, it all felt very strange. Was it fear? Shame? Why did he feel this way? He wanted someone to tell him, to help him understand these emotions. Francis had explained but his words only seemed to make everything worse. So who could he ask? Who could help him understand all this?

“Alfred?”

With a jolt Alfred looked up and to his horror he spotted the mystery girl standing by his bed. With a yelp he jumped off his bed and fell over, forcing himself to stand back up and adopt a defensive stance, stepping as far back from the girl as he could.

“You!”

The girl bore a guilty look as if she knew she did something wrong. “I’m sorry about before,” she said.

“So that was you!” Alfred backed off a little. “What’s the big idea? Showing me that horrible sight? You nearly gave me a heart attack, I thought I killed someone!”

“I didn’t mean it,” she insisted, “seeing you with that axe brought up something I tried to forget. Anyway, I’m not here to talk about that.”

“Oh no you don’t, don’t you dare change the subject!”

“But it’s important!”

“More important than you scaring me to death!?”

“It’s about Arthur.”

That response made Alfred stop dead in his tracks and his heart thumped hard once more. “What about him?”

The girl shifted a little closer and a smile was slowly forming upon her pale face. “Do you like him?”

“W-why are you asking?” Alfred grew even more flustered and turned his back on her. “He’s my friend, just a friend, dammit!”

“You’re saying one thing but your heart is saying something completely different.”

“N-no!”

“Why are you in denial? Are you scared?”

“I’m not scared! I’m not-... just drop it!”

“He likes you, you know.”

Hearing that from the mystery girl made him shiver suddenly. Even though Francis assumed that Arthur liked him he didn’t believe it, but hearing it from this girl who knew Arthur made something inside of him tremble. He peered over his shoulder to find her staring up at him with those large eyes of hers, reflecting her sincerity.

“He really, really likes you. His heart flutters every time you visit him, and you’ve made him smile so much. He’s even written a song about you.”

That made Alfred turn to face her, his cheeks flushing a little. “He... has?”

The girl nodded with a smile. “I’ll prove it.”

Before Alfred could ask her what she meant, his ears picked up on a sound. It took him a minute to realise it was singing and it took him another minute to recognise the voice who was singing it.

Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Remember me to one who lives there,
For he once was a true love of mine.

Turning round Alfred found himself back in Arthur’s garden, the mystery girl gone along with his room. The sky was almost golden in colour and the clouds were glowing a brilliant shade of rose, indicating that the sun was close to setting. The birds were singing their evening song but it wasn’t their singing that caught his attention. Looking around he couldn’t see Arthur but he heard his soothing singing voice.

Have him make me a cambric shirt,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Without no seam nor fine needle work,
And then he’ll be a true love of mine.

Following the voice Alfred carefully navigated through the garden, the light quickly vanishing and it almost became to hard to see given the fact that the garden was surrounded by tall stone walls. He did watch where he stepped, not wanting to crush any of the flowers and continued to listen out for the song.

Have him find me an acre of land,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Between the sea foam and over the sand,
And then he’ll be a true love of mine.

It was almost as if the song had put him in a trance, and he became even more desperate to locate him. He knew he was getting closer as the singing grew louder.

Love imposes impossible tasks,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Though not more than any heart asks,
And I must know he’s a true love of mine.

Alfred finally rounded a corner and spotted Arthur, who sat upon a bench performing sone embroidery whilst singing away with his song.

Dear, when thou has finished thy task,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Come to me, my hand for to ask,
For thou then art a true love of mine.

He couldn’t look away. There was just something about the way the dying light made his messy hair shimmer, the composed way he sat as he pulled away at the thread, the fact that he was surrounded by gorgeous flowers that were still damp from their recent watering, the droplets sparkling in the dying light. He just looked so different, as if he was seeing him in a completely different light. It was making his heart beat ridiculously fast and he couldn’t think as to why. His eyes seemed to sparkle more, his voice sounded far more soothing than it did before, and there was this air around him that just made his presence stand out more yet for in perfectly with the scenery around him.

“Alfred?”

He flinched upon realising that Arthur had finally noticed him, he was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice that he had been standing in plain sight. In these situations he’d usually greet Arthur in his casual way with his laidback charm but he found that he couldn’t move or even get his voice to work.

Arthur just stared at him, not realising that his guest had heard him singing. “I wasn’t expecting you back so soon.” He placed his needlework down and stood up. He smiled sincerely and slowly walked over towards him. “I hope I didn’t offend you with that I said last time, it was a silly thing of me to say.”

As Arthur began approaching him, Alfred found his heart began to beat faster and he made the mistake of taking a cautionary step back. “I-I... I... um... I...” He couldn’t even begin to form a sentence.

Arthur had noticed his behaviour instantly and was beginning to get the wrong idea. “I know it was a bizarre thing of me to say, but you don’t have to act like that.”

Alfred was now desperately trying to say something for he could see the tell tale signs that Arthur was beginning to get upset, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. His throat felt like it was burning as he tried to get it to work, and he began to panic as the seconds ticked away.

“You’re being very rude,” snapped Arthur, tired with how Alfred was acting and planted his hands on his hips, “at least have the decency to say something!”

Still no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t say anything. It was only when Arthur snorted in anger and turned his back on him to stomp off that Alfred finally blurted out the first thing that popped into his head.

“I liked your song!”

He said it so loud he was certain it echoed a few times within the enclosed space. It made Arthur stop dead in his tracks and he peered over his own shoulder, his pale cheeks glowing with a shade of pink.

“You... heard that?”

Alfred nodded furiously. “Y-yeah, and I thought it was a very nice song, so... yeah... it was nice.”

Arthur turned back around and now appeared a little bashful. “I’ve... been working on that for a while... it needs some work but-...”

“No, no! It’s fine the way it is!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I liked the part about the shirt and the sea and... and the herbs and the bit about the true love and-...” Alfred could feel his face burning when he noticed how Arthur was blushing when he mentioned that part, realising that he actually looked really cute when he did that. “It’s all a great song! I loved every bit of it!”

After managing to get that all out, an awkward silence developed between them and Alfred was desperately trying to think of a way to end it. Thankfully he didn’t have to as Arthur closed the distance between. “You’ve actually come at a good time.”

“I have?”

Arthur beckoned Alfred to follow him and they walked over to the centre of the garden where one of the five trees he was growing stood. He sat down on the ground, glancing up at Alfred as he patted the empty patch next to him, silently telling him to join him. Alfred tensed up for a minute but eventually planted his rear upon the grass, his whole body completely stiff as he found sitting next to Arthur was making him feel weird again.

“I’d say you have about two minutes.”

“Huh?” Alfred glanced over at Arthur. “Two minutes till what?”

“To guess what trees these are,” replied Arthur with a chuckle. “The sun will set soon.”

With that said Alfred glanced up and could now see the stars appearing in the darkening sky. Alfred had always been fascinated with the stars ever since he was a child and he recognised some of the constellations.

“Looks like a clear night,” he said. “You’ll be able to see all the stars.”

“The weather will get wet soon,” sighed Arthur. “Good for my garden but not for me.”

“Does the rain make you sick?”

“What? No, no. I just can’t sit outside in the rain. I’ll be stuck indoors.”

“Oh...”

The awkward silence returned. “O-ok, are they pine trees?”

Arthur gave Alfred an unimpressed look. “Pine trees? Really?”

“Ok, ok, um... maple...? No I said that already didn’t I?”

“Four times now.”

“Willow... no, willows aren’t like that... um...”

“Thirty seconds left.”

“Don’t rush me.”

“I’m not rushing you, the sun will set in thirty seconds.”

Alfred groaned and fell onto his back. “I don’t know,” he whined, “I have no idea what they are.”

As he stared up into the star filled sky and wondered if he should start counting them to pass the time, Arthur’s face suddenly popped into view and Alfred felt tense again as he looked up into those emerald eyes. With his face so close, he should’ve been able to feel his breath upon his face but of course he couldn’t.

“I think I was being unfair,” confessed Arthur.

“About what?” Alfred felt really nervous having him so close.

“About this guessing game, you’d never figure it out until you see them.”

“See what?”

Before Arthur could reply, a faint glow caught his attention. “Ah, its time.”

Alfred sat back up and noticed that the faint glowing was coming from the tree. He watched in amazement as the tree began to do something that trees don’t normally do, at least what normal trees don’t do. The leaves began to change colour, merging from a dull purple to a brilliant blue that began to shimmer in the dark. The bark began to glow and seemed to transform from organic wood to a well polished silver, it sounded like it was singing as it began to illuminate the darkened garden. Looking around he could see the same thing had happened to the other four trees, they were now glowing a gentle light and lit up the entire garden with a beautiful glow. It was almost magical as the flowers that surrounded them seem to remain in bloom, even with the sun gone.

Looking back at the centre tree, Alfred stared at it and then he finally recognised what trees these were. “They’re... Elder Trees.”

“Oh, so you do know them?”

Glancing over at Arthur, he found the man staring back at him with a subtle proud glint in his eyes. “You grew Elder trees!?”

Arthur laughed at the way Alfred stared at him with a dumbfounded look. “You make it sound like it was difficult. Well, it was difficult but I persisted and now look at them. They’ve almost fully matured so I still have to be careful.”

“I... I mean... that’s really impressive... I mean really, really impressive.” Alfred could only stare at the trees in awe, not realising that this whole he had been in the presence of not one but five Elder trees, the rarest of all trees in the known world. He only had the one in his palace but Arthur had five of them and he grew them all by himself, that was an achievement in itself.

“They glow like this only at night, indicating that they’re close to maturing. Once they’ve fully matured they’ll remain like this during the day as well and grow even taller. It’s a defensive mechanism to keep themselves hidden I think since their bark is still very fragile, they’ll be impossible to harm once the bark hardens.”

“You sound like you know a lot about them.”

“Oh not nearly enough, there is still so much more I could learn from them. Their magical properties, how they affect the nature around them, the rate that they grow. Calling them trees is an insult as they’re anything but ordinary trees.”

Alfred chuckled as Arthur continued to go and on about them. “You must be proud.

“I am!” Arthur sighed as he gazed at them. “They’re so beautiful aren’t they?”

As Alfred glanced up at Arthur, he suddenly felt something strange within his chest. He stared at the way Arthur was gazing at his trees, how he seemed to stand out, as the beautiful glow of the trees seemed to make his presence stand out more than them. How the light reflected in his eyes, how his hair shimmered, how his pale skin seemed to glow in the light of the Elder trees. Even the way he smiled was almost mesmerising.

It was then that in that single moment that all of those confusing thoughts and unusual feelings stirring within him suddenly stopped. They all pooled together and from all that mess he was able to pull out something that made complete and utter sense to him, as if he had at long last figured out what was wrong with him. He now understood why his heart was thumping so hard, why his mind was a mess and why he was unable to understand any of it. It was as time had stood still and allowed him to figure out what was wrong with him. Everything made sense now and he wasn’t afraid and he wasn’t disgusted. He was actually happy, and a warm sensation of joy began to spread through him.

“Alfred I said, aren’t they beautiful?” repeated Arthur, his eyes still locked on his trees.

“...yeah,” replied Alfred, his eyes remaining on Arthur, “they are.”

——————————

Yao quickly rushed through the halls of the palace as he made his way to the King’s bedroom. It was still early but he wanted to make certain that Alfred was up and getting ready for when they had to go greet the Heart Kingdom court. He had been concerned ever since yesterday afternoon where Alfred had been acting strangely, and he could only hope that he was feeling better after a good nights rest. The last thing they needed was to offend the Heart King as he was a very strict man.

Alfred had been acting weird these past few weeks, and he wasn’t certain on how to fix it. He wasn’t just concerned for him as his Jack but he was also concerned as his friend. He had arranged days for him to relax at the spa, tried to lighten his workload, even tried to talk to him about it, but Alfred just wasn’t talking and even when he did talk none of it made sense. He had hoped Francis would fix the problem but even he was having a hard time getting it out of him.

Speaking of the devil, he spotted Francis up ahead and was surprised to see him up so early. “Your majesty, I wasn’t expecting to see you up at this hour.”

Francis shrugged with a yawn. “I went to bed early last night and I woke up a few hours ago unable to sleep. Where are you off to in such a hurry and so early in the morning?”

Yao straightened out his hat as he continued towards his end destination. “To wake up Alfred, I need to make certain he’s ready to greet the Heart King.”

“Ah yes, Ludwig isn’t so laidback like the rest of us,” chuckled Francis as he followed the Spade Jack. “Running around after a young King must be so exhausting for you, no?”

Not even Yao could deny that. “Don’t get me started,” he huffed, “it’s times like this that I wish we did have a Queen.”

“He has been looking into that you know.”

“And I’m glad that he is, but until the Spade Kingdom gets a Queen then both he and I have to work twice as hard to keep everything running.”

As the Diamond King and the Spade Jack rounded a corner that lead to the hallway where Alfred’s room was located, they spotted a few maids cleaning up the furniture, polishing the walls, and placing freshly picked roses in the vases, all of them getting ready for the Heart Court to arrive. Yao praised them for their hard work and Francis couldn’t help but wink at them, earning him some giggles of glee. Standing outside Alfred’s room, Yao gently knocked at the door.

“Alfred, are you-...”

Before he could finish his sentence the door opened and out came a fully dressed Alfred, looking like a new man as he walked out of his room. He didn’t look tired at all, he was wide awake and bearing an unusual smile.

“Oh good,” said Yao, surprised to see Alfred up and dressed as smartly as he had ever been, “you’re up. I just came by-...”

“Good morning Yao,” said Alfred suddenly, pulling the Jack into a hug. “You looking great this morning! Ready to greet that stiff Ludwig? Can’t wait! Now let’s go get breakfast!”

He released the startled Yao who could only stare at Alfred with dazed shock and walked away with a large smile on his face. He then spotted the Diamond King and pointed his fingers at him whilst clicking his tongue.

“Hey Francis, beautiful day isn’t it?”

“Er... qui, it is.”

“Great, see you at breakfast!”

Francis stared with confused amazement as Alfred trotted off down the hallway, humming a tune he had never heard before. He continued humming as he pulled a maid into a small twirl, making her gasp out loud, and stole a single rose from one of the vases. He twisted it around with his fingers as he held it up to his face and continued walking down the hallway. His hums echoed down the hall and the maids stared off after him, wondering what that was all about.

Both Yao and Francis stared at him, the pair of them completely lost as to what had just happened. “What’s gotten into him?” pondered Yao out loud.

It only took a second for Francis to realise what had happened. He suddenly recognise the change in Alfred’s mannerism and could practically taste the emotions dripping from him, smelling them as they filled the air. There was no longer any confusion, there was just pure awareness and acceptance of those feelings he had been trying to reject for so long and it was beautiful.

His bewildered expression changed into one full of glee and he clapped his hands quickly as the realisation hit him hard across the face. “C’est beau, il est amoureux!”

“What?” Yao wasn’t too knowledgeable about Francis’ language. “What is it?”

Francis could only continue to smile like a child and danced on the spot. “My dear Jack, your King is in love.”

Notes:
The song Arthur is singing is Scarborough Fair, my personal favourite cover is by Celtic Woman