The Gentleman of Greenstoke

VIII.

"I hope my request is not too bold?"

Sakura laid her eyes on the Prussian who gently had taken her arm as they were walking in the park. Seconds ago, he had inquired if the Japanese could offer him any hints of after Elizabeta's interests; although he had formed the words in a less personal approach. Not only was the man fascinated by the Hungarian; he was completely besotted. Sakura had noticed his nervous laughter and grin whenever the object of his love was mentioned; His arrogant smile hid his emotions and true intentions. The Japanese had thought about telling Elizabeta about her Prussian admirer but decided against it. The brunette's hatred against Mr Beilschmidt had been officially stated days ago, when Elizabeta had told Sakura about the odd scene in which the white-haired man had offered her flowers in the halls. "He waited at the servant's staircase. In a house that is not his," Elizabeta had exclaimed with a huff. "Such an odious and insulting man."

And now the odious and insulting man was strolling besides Sakura, asking questions about a female who loathed him. The petite woman's sight wandered to the walking path, "No, it is not too bold but what do you expect of my information?"

"I am curious," Gilbert spoke quietly, not explaining his hopes for gaining any disclosing details about Miss Elizabeta Héderváry. Sakura hid her small smile; Mr Beilschmidt's statement about curiosity was not a lie. "She loves singing and cooking, but she is mostly interested in nature."

Sakura smiled, remembering Elizabeta's happy expression when she had told her of her childhood. "Her love for the forest in her homeland Hungary is undeniable."

"H-Hungary?" Gilbert asked in wonder. "I never thought about her family name. . . Of course it is Hungarian," he admitted and somehow this mere information enchanted him. Gilbert knew that some Hungarians were able to speak his language due to the Austrian Empire.

"Yes, she fled from her home when the revolutions started."

Hearing such things angered the Prussian. "Her Family?"

As Sakura refused to answer him instantly, Gilbert knew about their fate. Her beloved family must had died in the clash of the revolutions in the Austrian Empire. Considering the context of this talk, Gilbert thought about the Empire and the first person who came into his mind was his cousin, Roderich. His conversation partner noticed the new tense atmosphere for a second before the calamity returned. "I understand," Gilbert muttered, cursing himself internally for blaming his cousin who was uninvolved in those bloody revolutions. He was not on good terms with his Austrian family member, but to reproach him for these events was too ridiculous. The Prussian's emotion had turned into anger upon hearing of Elizabeta's fate; and he did not know where to put these new feelings. He wanted to protect her from any harm.

"Aren't these flowers wonderful?" Sakura commented, hoping to change the topic and the frown on Gilbert's face. He nodded, pretended to have changed his clouded thoughts.

"I hope he is not distressing her," Ludwig confessed to Arthur, who walked next to him. The British man held the same hopes but was more irritated by this new development. While he was striking a conversation with Sakura, Gilbert had interrupted them and in the end Arthur was left with the younger German of whom he suspected to be attached to the Japanese woman in front of them. He never assumed his emotions to change quickly within seconds. It depended on his company and at this very moment, he disapproved the blonde man next to him. Of course he did not hate him, but the mere suspicion that Ludwig Beilschmidt was intending to court Sakura, was causing Arthur's blood to boil. Some misunderstandings had already disrupted their – in Arthur's opinion – pure and harmonic bond. He would never admit that the Japanese had softened his heart – even captured it without her knowledge – and the man was uncertain about her thoughts of him. Daring to confront her about it did not cross his mind. He felt far too frightened to have his heart broken; not that he would confess such things to anyone. It was still incomprehensible for himself to have fallen in love with someone he had only known for three weeks. But he could not prevent his heart to accelerate whenever he was staring into those beautiful brown eyes.