Our Royal Duties

Chapter 4.2

Arthur gave Francis a small nod, listening to him somewhat intently while taking another bite of his cake. “I see…” he mumbled. He could only barely remember the sounds of battle training in his own home. The only time that they had ever had soldiers training even close to their own castle was in the short time between the time they returned there and the siege. Training was always a sort of afterthought, but as a child he had always thought that it was just because they wanted to have the soldiers wherever it was that they were being trained before they fought. It had never occurred to him that there simply hadn’t been time to train and then travel if they hoped to make a battle before everyone was killed. “Well… if things are really so awful around here during the wartimes, then I hope that we never have another war.” He mumbled, frowning a bit. “I’d hate to see you so tired, and I think that we’ve all had enough war for half a dozen lifetimes.” He chuckled, looking up at Francis. His smile faltered as he noticed a speck of chocolate on the other’s lip, and he hesitated a thoughtful moment before leaning in to peck it off. His cheeks turned a bit pink from the kiss and he turned away bashfully. "S-so... for now, let's hope that it stays quiet like this for as long as possible, forever maybe. I'm sure that if we tried, we could unify every kingdom, and then there wouldn't have to be any wars, right?"

"Oui, the castle probably will be quiet until we get into another war." Francis sighed heavily. He hated hearing the soldiers. All the marching, the yelling, the songs of bloodshed. They would be trained for days, even months on end and it was hard to wake up every morning from it. Trust me. Those sounds could drive the sanest man insane. I understand they were trying to prove they were the best, but I hate it. I'm never going to train to be a knight again…" He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Arthur’s peck on the lips, silencing him. “…o-oui…” he breathed. He was yet to get accustomed to the feeling of the other’s lips being pressed to his own intentionally, as it seemed to be the other way around more often than not. "W-we, erm… we should try to fix all that has been caused and rebuild your kingdom again. People are out there dying and I can't take it any longer. We are going to make things better for the world and we will do it together." He gave Arthur a bright grin, hoping to mask his being flustered. “And then… perhaps we can do some of the things we love. If we’re lucky, by then horses will no longer be protected like gold in the bank… I promise you Arthur, when that day comes, I’ll but you the prettiest little mare that I can find.” He gave a nod of assurance. He noticed suddenly that he had stopped thinking of him as “Alice”, or “her”, or “she”.

Arthur nodded again, giving Francis a small smile. “I suppose… although we both know that they probably won’t accept your help. They still think of this place as the enemy, and quite a few others agree with them, especially the Kingdom of Blue. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were planning an attack right this minute, such a thing would be like Christmas for them…” he chuckled. As much as he admired Francis’s optimism, he thought it a bit silly at times. He scowled and popped another bite of cake into his mouth. “Oh, let’s put this talk of war behind us. It’s an awful thing and I just can’t stand to think of it now… let’s talk of something else.” He glanced at a clock, determined to keep the subject off of war and old times for at least five minutes. He thought a moment of a different topic and then smiled. “Francis, you talked about a room before, which was down the hall... one we could use for the baby... can you show it to me?” he asked, finishing his cake. He wanted to see this room for himself if their child was going to live there. He had been piecing together ideas of what a child’s room could be like based off of what had been arranged for Peter, although by the time he finally got to use his room he was too old for the toys or the crib or the simple books that had been there waiting for him. He hadn’t seemed to mind though. He stood up, leaving his plate and his dessert fork on the bed, and walked to the door without bothering himself with slippers.