Wanna Be My Queen?

Chapter Four

Arthur the Teacher and Table Manners

"You need to learn how to be more proper."

Alfred looked up with a mouthful of chicken, the chosen food for dinner that night. (Don't worry; Arthur didn't make it). "What do you mean?"

Arthur cringed. "That is what I mean. It is very improper to talk with your mouth full. You are a king; you should know this." He watched as Alfred shrank back into his seat with a pout. Arthur averted his eyes (why was that look so cute?)

Alfred swallowed before saying in a high-pitched, whiny voice, "I don't like being proper. It's boring."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I do not think you realize how nasty it is to see your mushed-up food every time you open your mouth."

"Oh c'mon Arti-" Alfred caught himself, shot an apologetic look, and corrected himself. "C'mon Arthur, I don't need to be proper. You like me just how I am, right?" The smile he sent Arthur's way made his heart jump. He forced a scowl onto his face.

"I'd most likely enjoy your presence more if you weren't so erroneous," he stated haughtily, turning his face away from the radiant king.

The brightness almost physically hurt his eyes.

Arthur grabbed his plate and got up to put it in a sink, with Alfred following suit, cheeks puffed out as he stuffed the last few bites of food into his pallet. He started to open his mouth to talk, but Arthur shot him a deadly glare, so he waited until he had completely swallowed to speak.

"I can have manners when I want to, like at balls and stuff. I just don't do it around here because it seems kind of unnecessary to do..." he trailed off, looking sheepish, and Arthur couldn't help but feel a small pang of sympathy for the young king.

Arthur sighed, than perked up slightly as an idea ran across his mind. "You want me to be the Queen of Spades, do you not?" Alfred nodded quickly. "Then I will tell you right now that I will not become a queen if my own king does not know how to portray simple table manners." The king opened his mouth again, this time food-free, but Arthur held up a hand, and Alfred managed to swallow his comment (although the new shine to his eyes was still ever-prominent). "I will teach you proper etiquette starting tomorrow, whether you want to be taught or not."

Alfred's jaw dropped, and his eyes widened to the size of saucers.

"What is with that look?"

It seemed difficult for the king to form words, but when he did, what came out was: "Holy shit."

Arthur was starting to feel anxious about his offer (more like demands), but he refused to back down. He stared into Alfred's eyes relentlessly, waiting for the king to deny his request (I think 'order' is a better word). "Really, what is the matter?"

Alfred worked his jaw for a moment, gathering words, before he finally blurted, "Do that again."

"For goodness sake Alfred, do what ag-"

"Order me around."

Now Arthur's jaw fell open, and he stared at the king in utter disbelief. He started sputtering, something he does when he's flustered, and his eyes flickered everywhere but to the king's face.

"W-what in the world are you t-talking about?!" Arthur exclaimed, turning his head parallel to the ground as he stared at his feet, shoulders hunched, self-conscious of his stuttering. He wished he were anywhere but in front of the attractive king right now. Even out in the stable scooping horse shit into a compost pile was better than this. He had just been talking about how improper Alfred was, and now here he was, blushing and tripping over his words like a grade school girl around her crush.