“Gilbert,” The King sounds far too pleased to see him. Gilbert bows as is polite.

“Come to accept my offer?” The King asks and walks towards him. Gilbert keeps himself still.

“If I may, come to see what the offer holds, your majesty,” Gilbert says back. The King lets out a gruff laugh, mischief in his eyes and thankfully no animosity for Gilbert’s answer.

“Come then, let us test your strengths.” So Gilbert follows around the library, telling what he knows, what he can do, answering questions to the best of his ability. Eventually his quick wit shines and his somewhat sarcastic answers come through. Perhaps disrespectful, but the King just smiles, snarking back just as much.

They end up in the military history part of the library, maps and layouts of plans and past events spread along the table between them. The King talks about ways things can go, and though hesitant at first, Gilbert soon is putting in his own input, new ways to plan, and winning a knowing smile from the King.

“I should like to play you in chess,” The King tells him and Gilbert nods and follows out of the library and down the hall. The sun has either never risen or set so quickly. Gilbert has lost track of time. He nods his head politely to the children of the Cold Kingdom, the Future King of the Cold Kingdom, Ivan’s sister, waves happily to him. Ivan himself nod back at him but not without a dangerous look in his eyes.

Gilbert allows his chair to be pulled out for him, the room they are in open and spacious, a bookshelf int he corner with rules and guidelines and strategies of the game. The King takes patience to teach him how to play, and slowly through the night Gilbert learns. His moves become daring and when dinner is called, he puts the King in checkmate.

“Wonderful, you are a quick learner.” The King is pleased.

“Thank you, your majesty.” A servant guides them to the dining room. It’s almost habit for Gilbert to stand near the wall like he always has, but the King waves him forward and he sits on the left hand side.

“I’m afraid my manners will be atrocious, your majesty,” He apologizes before hand. The King just waves him off, not a care in the world.

“There will be time of manners later,” He says. The rest of the royals enter. The future King takes a seat across from Gilbert and Ivan takes a seat next to him. The King of the Dragon Kingdom sits across from Ivan. Gilbert is out of place.

“Gilbert this is my daughter Katuyasha, she will inherit the Kingdom,” The King explains. Kat just smiles shyly and continues to eat in silence.

“While Ivan would have been trained to lead my armies should he have not been married, that position is now open.” Gilbert nods slowly, unsure if the giggle Ivan lets out is good or bad.

“My daughter is not the most strong willed, I want you to be her military adviser, and Master of the East Manner. Gilbert accidentally drops his silverware to the plate faster than he means to.

“You majesty?” He chokes the words out, unsure if he heard correctly. Ivan begins to laugh now.

“Do you think you can’t do it?” He challenges. Gilbert offers him a small glare, not appreciating the expression on Ivan’s face. A look that the Queen of the Olive Kingdom used to give him. A look that says ‘I know something you don’t.’

“I am unsure of my abilities seeing as i barely even know which silverware to use,” Gilbert fires back. Ivan hums.

“While you are, putting me in a position of checkmate doesn’t come easily. I am sure.” The King says and it leaves no room for argument. There’s a small surprise from everyone, including the servants, hearing of Gilbert’s win. Gilbert forces himself to keep his head down.

The night grows impossibly dark. Gilbert is offered a carriage, something he has never ridden in before, and taken to the East Manner, polished and cleaned up and topped with servants knowing his arrival would come soon.

“Welcome home Lord.. uh,” The servant at the door stumbles, having never actually received Gilbert last name. Gilbert lets out a huff and the servant shrinks back in fear. He shakes his head hard.

“All is forgiven,” he forces out. “Lord Beilschmidt.” A name given to him in the outskirts, given by a man who could not bear to see a child suffer on his own, and worked his life away to support him. A name that could be noble.

“Right this way Lord Beilschmidt,” The servant guides him through the manner. Huge as a house can be without being a castle. The carpets are all dark blue and the walls painted silver. It’s expansive and overwhelming.

“A bath has been drawn for you from your journey, shall I tell the cooks to prepare a small meal?” The servant leaves him at the door. Gilbert breathes slowly and shakes his head.

“I would just like to retire after this,” He shuts his eyes tight, thinking of all the times he had gone to Matthew and Lovino telling them the same thing. Arthur guidance told him the right way to speak and now the words are thrown back at him.

The servant scurries off, not wanting to be subject to his potential anger. Gilbert is unsure what exactly he feels. The bath water is warm and wonderful, muscle aches drifting away and the fact he never got to have baths as exquisite as this hits him hard. He splashes water out of the sides just because he can. He can do so many things now.

He settles for finishing getting clean.

His room, another place he needs to be guided to, is large. Just like the one his prince’s sleep in, but this one is all for him. He curls under covers that feel too heavy and too light at the same time. He drifts off into sleep thinking off the prince’s he left behind.

–

“Future Queen Matthew!” The small boy bows at the waist in front of royalty. The quen blinks at him and comes closer off the garden path.

“Raivis? Is that you?” Kind Matthew asks. Raivis snaps himself up and shoves a letter between the garden bars towards the Future Queen. He rode in haste hear in the early morning at Prince Ivan’s request and he knows better than to deny him.

As soon as the letter is out of his hands and in Future Queen Matthew’s, he’s running off, not wanting to see the reaction to what Prince Ivan has written.

–

Gilbert spends his week in the East Manner, learning the halls and learning the servants. Learning how to be a noble in all it’s right. He’s only snapped once. The feeling came horrendously quick. He threw his chair at the head of the table down once a dinner meal came, a lonesome dinner meal. His servants, an odd phrase to say for him, flinched.

He apologized profusely, asking them for forgiveness for his outburst. He explained to them who he used to be, many of them surprised by his upbringing. Though they gave reassurance, Gilbert isn’t too sure it’s what he wanted to hear.

The King requests his presence once, a local event for them all. A small Gala of the noble families. Gilbert stands by the King’s side as is requested of him and allows himself to be introduced as the Master of the East Manner. His outfit is dark blue with silver trim, a medal and emblem of his right breast signifying who he is to the Future King. He is the guest of honor.

The two kids from Ivan’s engagement party once again ask him to dance with them. He takes a chance to do so.

He’s learned his manners, gained his reputation for being a little rude but wicked smart. Some are put off by him, others think him charming. Young Nobles of other houses are encouraged to talk to him, gain his favor. To be the lucky one of  a fresh Noble, to be in charge of a Manner that large? A fine rank to have indeed, and Gilbert can see right through all of it.

“I shouldn’t take up any more of your time,” Gilbert lets the line fall smoothly, the young noble looking positively bristled that he rebuffed their far too forward advances. It only makes his heart sicker for someone, someones, in a kingdom that feels farther away than it really is.

He tries to enjoy his evening, living the life he could have had years ago. He wonders if he would have been as smart, or if living poor and scrappy had made him into the perfect candidate. Those who are also future advisers to the Future King as welcoming to him, thankful none of them will have to fill the role themselves. Gilbert isn’t sure if that’s a good thing to know.

He ends the evening in the East Manner, no pretty young noble to join him, not that he wanted any of them anyway. There is nothing that can compare to Matthew and Lovino. He wants to be with them again and there lies his dilemma.

Should he be noble, he could join them in events, at their dinners, ask them to dance without fear of other people’s reactions. He could sweep them off their feet with how much he really is. He could be socially accepted as their.. friend.

But as their personal servant, he’s close, closer than any one else gets to be to them. He is their morning wake up and their last goodnight. He wouldn’t be able to see them as often due to duties on either side. He would have to think of reasons to visit the Olive Kingdom so often.

He flops into his bed, wondering if they truly miss him. He did not tell them where he went. His supposed trial week is almost up and he still doesn’t know what to do. He twists the ring on his finger, two gems just barely shining, each one representing the people he loves. The idea of him striding back to the castle in a noble’s outfit, them smiling and proud is the last thing he sees before he sleeps.

–

“So have you made your decision?” The King asks. Gilbert breathes slowly.

“I believe I have, your majesty,” Gilbert says. The King scratches at his beard with a smile. He gives Gilbert some conditions, some things that will apply, and then he is free to do as he pleases.

–

Matthew stands in the empty room, turning around in slow circles, remembering every detail that this room used to hold but now holds only sorrow. The only thing left is a letter on the small desk in the corner. A letter written by Prince Ivan, telling Matthew all about how is precious little servant is being trained to a be a noble.

Matthew wishes he could be mad at Ivan for telling him, he wishes he could scream and tell all that’s not true, but Gilbert’s stuff is gone, no note or letter, just gone. All Matthew can feel is an unease that he could have done more.

“Matthew?” At the sounds of his husband, Matthew in hales shakily, tears forming before he can think. Lovino’s arms wrap around him.

“He’ll be happier over there, living the life he should have,” Lovino tells him but it sounds like Lovino is trying to convince himself as well. Matthew shakes his head.

“Why didn’t he tell us?” Matthew turns to face Lovino, searching for some answer in his face and only finding grief. Lovino’s shoulder’s drop.

“Why would he?” He says. Matthew sniffles hard.

“He can have a better life without us,” Lovino wraps Matthew up tight, his husband clinging back to him just as much. They never talked in detail about it, but they loved the servant as much as they loved each other. They don’t talk about it now, but both think maybe the servant didn’t love them the same. The rings on their fingers weight heavy.

“He will see us at events, and other..” Lovino trails off, not able to finish his sentence. Seeing Gilbert in a prime, as a noble, with all his snark backed up to a title worthy of him, would be wonderful. But seeing Gilbert with that soft smirk waking them up and allowing himself to be dragged down to their cuddles and laughing, it makes his heart ache to know they might never see that again.

“I miss him,” Matthew whispers. Lovino just holds him tighter. They walk the halls, hand in hand, down to the dining table where they have put off eating long enough.

A loud horn sounds out, and though they know it’s foolish, Lovino and Matthew rush to the front doors that are opened to them, just in time to see Gilbert slide off his horse with his head held high. He freezes when he sees the two of them, his outfit dark blue with an insignia over his chest telling them exactly what he is.

Still, it doesn’t stop the two of them from hurrying down the steps and swamping Gilbert in a tight hug. Gilbert lets out a harsh breath and as best he can puts his arms around the two of them.

“Why didn’t you tell us you left?” Matthew pulls back, new tears in his eyes. Gilbert stares wide eyed back.

“We would have supported you,” Lovino adds, but his voice cracks. Gilbert swallows hard.

“I..” He lowers his head.

“I couldn’t do it.” He admits. He allows himself to held by the two of them.

“After everything I couldn’t do it. I..” Gilbert grits his teeth and looks up at the two of them.

“I couldn’t leave you.” He finally admits. Lovino and Matthew’s eyes widen, looking to each other and then back at the outfit Gilbert wears.

“But your uniform?” Matthew asks him. Gilbert shakes his head.

“I was offered the position, and the King told me I could have it whenever I wanted regardless of my acceptation of his offer.” Gilbert smooths out the fabric, the dark blue bringing out the white of his hair. Lovino fiddles with the medals on the front.

“Why didn’t you take it?” Lovino asks him. Gilbert’s shoulder’s drop.

“I couldn’t leave you. After everything, and everything else, I couldn’t just..” Gilbert doesn’t finish his sentence. He can’t tell them how much it would pain him not to see them everyday, how much he would ache not to be near them, how much it would hurt to not be near the people he loves.

It’s Matthew that moves first, grabbing Gilbert by the lapels of his uniform and dragging him close. Propriety be damned. He pulls Gilbert in for a kiss, pushing all the love he feels into it as much as he can. When he finally pulls back Gilbert is staring wide eyed and jaw dropped. 

“I missed you,” Matthew says after a pause. Tears well up in Gilbert’s eyes and he allows them to be kissed away. He’s brought close once more and hugged from both sides, both of his prince’s holding him.

“I know you could have done so well there, but I, I am so happy you decided to stay,” Matthew is laughing now, small tears in the corners of his eyes as well. Gilbert snickers at the sound, missing the way Matthew’s laughter seems to brighten up his day. His hand is squeezed tight and Gilbert looks to Lovino, only to receive his second ever kiss.

“Don’t you dare leave us again,” Lovino places their foreheads together when he pulls back, hand squeezing even tighter than before. Gilbert returns the favor easily, a small laugh escaping him when Lovino kisses him again.

He had been pushing his brother to have a date with his soulmate, which should not have been that hard, except for Alfred’s infuriating idea of being a good big brother. He had taken it upon himself to find Matthew’s soulmate, and not only was Matthew himself finding it annoying, but the ignorant American had been neglecting his soulmate. So Matthew pushed them to the date in a cute little cafe and had been walking home, relieved, when a biker had zoomed passed, pedaling furiously.

Matthew had stepped instinctively to the side but froze when he caught sight of the man’s eyes.

They were blood red.

They had color.

The biker had also frozen, but he was on a bike that traveled forward with momentum and he realized too late that he was in a precarious position. The bike jerked around on his trek forwards and he lost control, crashing into a pole and tumbling to the ground.

“Oh my god! Oh my god, are you okay?” Matthew rushed to the man’s side, attempting to disentangle him from the bike. The man groaned and pulled himself up, abandoning the bike on the concrete. Now that he wasn’t concerned with his health, Matthew got a better look at him. The man was a bit shorter than him and had soft-looking white hair and a pasty complexion. For a second Matthew was nervous that he had been mistaken, but then he blinked open his vibrant red eyes and all of his worries vanished.

“Not how I expected to meet my soulmate.” The man said with a thick German accent, quirking a smile at the Canadian.

“Me neither. Are you sure you’re okay?” Matthew questioned, examining him for any wounds.

“Me? I’m fine! I’ve taken worse falls than that!” He boasted, wincing slightly as he jarred his head. He had gained a headache from crashing into the pole.

“Oh. What’s your name? I’m Matthew,” he introduced himself, fidgeting uncertainly. Was he supposed to shake his hand? Hug him? Oh god, he wasn’t supposed to kiss him yet, right?

“The awesome Gilbert, at your service!” Gilbert nearly bowed dramatically but clutched his head instead, cursing under his breath.

“Oh! Uh, do you want to come to my apartment? I should have some Ibuprofen,” Matthew offered, allowing the albino to hold on to his shoulder for support while he fought his dizzy spell.

“That would be awesome.” The man lowered his hand but Matthew caught it, in an unusual romantic moment or merely to make sure he didn’t fall over Matthew wasn’t sure, but Gilbert seemed very pleased by the action.

And so the two made their way, fingers laced together, to Matthew’s apartment, fixing Gilbert up and getting to know each other along the way.

Neither told the other they still saw spots of grey.

-x-

It was nearly a year later before they had found their missing piece. Both had given up on the thought of having a third soulmate and had still not confided in the other for irrational fear of rejection. It was possible that one of them had another soulmate but the other did not, and so they were afraid the other would think that they weren’t going to love them enough and therefore leave them. It was an idiotic thought process, but it succeeded in keeping the two quiet about the colors, or lack thereof.

Though the two had secretly vowed to forget the missing colors, it had an effect on their relationship. They felt the missing link in their everyday lives.

Gilbert missed tension. He was used to everyday bickering from growing up in his household, and Matthew was not the argumentative type. He missed being able to shoot insults at someone and have them reciprocate. And he felt unneeded with Matthew, who got along with everybody and who everybody loved. And though Matthew tried to tell him that he loved him, Gilbert wasn’t blind to the fact that he never seemed to do enough.

Matthew missed thoughtfulness. As much as he loved Gilbert, the Prussian was more or less oblivious in the topic of romance. He dreamed of waking up to a rose, or sitting down to a loved, home-made meal. And he missed the quiet evenings of doing nothing. While Gilbert tried to be quiet and stay still, he was used to being up and doing things. And was not used to the copious amount of physical contact Matthew seemed to require.

It was at a restaurant for a date. Matthew had picked it because it was smaller and unassuming, but quite popular as well. He had also heard shining reviews from his brother. It was also away from prying eyes where the two could talk, really talk, but in public so nothing escalated. That was at Gilbert’s request, as he knew he could become too loud in a second.

They took their orders and were quiet, both unsure what to say or where to start. Time passed, and their food arrived, but the two stayed silent except for a few dying conversations. They chewed slowly and awkwardly.

Matthew had finally opened his mouth to say something when a voice from the kitchens made him pause. They were seated right next to the kitchens and he couldn’t help but listen in. Gilbert was also eavesdropping though mostly out of lack of other things to do, and he didn’t want to be the one to start talking.

“But I never wait tables! That’s Feli’s job! I cook food, not talk to stupid people!”

“But Lovi, it’s so busy, and Antonio’s out…”

“I don’t care! Feli can deal with it!”

“Lovino Vargas, don’t you take that tone with me. Now go out there and ask people if they like their meals, and if they have any requests, come tell me. Easy.”

“But-”

“Lovi.”

“Fine.” the arguing voice stomped out of the kitchens and the awkward couple instantly turned away, pretending they had never been listening in. “Lovino” ignored their table entirely and made a few rounds before returning and catching sight of the two, realizing he hadn’t talked to them yet and groaning because he had thought he was done.

“Okay bastards, you better be enjoying your meal because that’s my food you’re eating.” Lovino snapped, his patience at an all-time low. The two were a bit taken aback by his attitude.

“It’s delicious.” Matthew said softly, staring at his plate. Gilbert was not as much of a doormat, however, and turned to glare at the man.

“Hey, you can’t… just…” Gilbert trailed off, red eyes widening in surprise as a new color burst in front of him. Greens and golden browns suddenly came into focus, filling the spaces in between the violet and blue hues of Matthew’s eyes. They gaped at each other, but it quickly came to Lovino’s attention that not all the color had returned.

“Are you freaking kidding me? There’s another one?!” Lovino raged, throwing up his arms. Matthew glanced at Gilbert, alarmed. The normally outspoken man was deathly silent, face paler than usual.

“Matthew… there may be something… I need to tell you…” He choked out. Lovino stopped his raging and glared at the albino Prussian.

“Damn right you do. Because obviously your own freakin soulmate needs to know that you share- oh.” Lovino had gone to stare down Matthew only for the missing colors to come into focus, blues and greens appearing before his eyes. “Oh.”

Gilbert stared at the interaction and his eyes widened.

It’s easy to tell when they get close to the Cold Kingdom. The path gets more bumpy, and patches of snow litter the ground. Gilbert suppresses a shudder and piles on a coat from the saddle bag. He simply smirks when Mathew asks if he’s alright. He can handle a little cold. The outskirts, while maybe not as deadly as this climate, had gotten him freezing. This is close to nothing.

It’s habitual to follow Matthew and Lovino up the stone steps to the palace, tall and deadly sharp in angles and covered in snow. The windows are thick but the obvious sight of people mingling inside is all Gilbert needs to set his nerves to steel. Jackets have been shed to a safe space and they are lead to the immaculately large ball hall. Decorated in a lovely shade of blue and silver jewels. People dance and laugh and barely give the new comers any glance, though some point and stare and whisper.

“Matvey!” Someone calls the moment they are inside. Matthew’s face lights up and he reaches out his hands to someone coming their way. Gilbert stands back and watches. This person is tall with silver hair and a giggle already pouring out of them. Their outfit gives away their rank, fine threads all silver and blue, and a small crown of ice and wire around their head. Matthew and the Prince lean to put their heads together.

“I am so happy to see you!” The prince smiles brightly, giggling again. Matthew smiles up at him to, then turns to Lovino and Gilbert.

“This is my husband, Lovino,” Matthew cares not to explain rank and it really doesn’t matter. The Prince blinks at Lovino, eyeing him up and down before tilting his head in a polite nod. Then looks at Gilbert curiously. Matthew just smiles.

“And this is Gilbert,” That’s all that needs to be said, Gilbert gives away his own rank by bending fully at the waist with his hand at his chest. When he stands the Prince’s face is a little more twisted but still smiling. His giggle is somehow darker.

“Lovely to meet friends of Matvey, I am Ivan,” The Prince introduces himself, hands still tight to Matthew’s, and then proceeds to ignore them both.

“How has Matvey been? I am very sad to find our letters had to be put on hold.” Ivan pouts pulling Matthew closer to him. Gilbert can’t help the confusion on his face at the act but Matthew just laughs.

“With the changes I’m sorry I haven’t been able to get back to you as quick, though I can soon imagine you’ll be going through the same,” Matthew is polite and his smile is genuine. Ivan giggles something more happy and real, less putting on edge, when a large door is opened. A low hollows note is sounded out and banners are raised up in the doorway, a colorful display. Ivan gasps happily and leaves without manners to go towards the noise.

“A little rude isn’t he?” Gilbert snarks when the Prince is out of ear shot. Matthew laughs brightly, threading his fingers with Lovino.

“Ivan means no harm. He has a hard time being who he is around people who expect him to act a certain way.” Matthew tells and explains as Gilbert watches. The room parts and he can see. The banners are bright like a feathered bird, but there is a eerie feeling. The banners have a maw on them, sharp teeth and angry. The person in front of the entourage of people coming in has a crown of sharp jagged teeth on their head, dressed in long red robes that shine like scales.

Ivan walks right up to them, holding his hands to to his mouth to try and keep his smile hidden, but he’s giggling and practically swoons when the King takes Ivan’s hand and kisses the back of it.

“Welcome Dragon Kingdom,” A voice booms out. Here Gilbert looks to the noise, and for the first time, and sees the King of the Cold Kingdom. He stares not long as the King looks to him and he jerks his sight back to where he should be looking. Ivan and the King of the Dragon Kingdom are talking with smiles to each other as if they are the only ones in the room. Soon politicians and some nobles of both kingdoms are conversing, mingling, trying to get that low hollow and dangerous note out of their minds.

“Have they talked before?” Lovino leans in and whispers to Matthew. 

“Oh yes,” Matthew smiles brightly to he couple, both of them looking far too smitten for each other than people who have just met. This is planned and many people can see it.

“When King Yao had his coronation, Ivan had been out in society so he had to attend the galla. Yao had called him childish and Ivan-” Matthew takes a moment to shake his head. Music starts up and King Yao in his bold red, dances Ivan around the room.

“Ivan nearly lost his life as he pinned Yao to the wall by his neck.” Gilbert snaps his eyes to Matthew, completely loss for words at what he’s hearing. Lovino has nearly the same reaction. Matthew just keeps smiling, sighing happily.

“Yao fell for him hard then, adoring the strength, the danger Ivan held. Very highly regarded in the Dragon Kingdom.” Matthew leans into Lovino, and they watch as the dance comes to and end, Ivan giggling and putting his arms over Yao’s shoulders with Yao smiling like he won the prize but not by playing fair. 

Gilbert decides it best not to concern himself with thinking about it any farther.

It’s a loud mess when Matthew’s brother Alfred finds them, grabbing Matthew by his face and smushing it in his hands. He’s talking a mile a minute about how much he misses Matthew and how boring lessons are and ‘oh Matthew you still have him around?’. Gilbert ignores that question.

Alfred’s insistent talking is stopped abruptly by a cool hand sliding from behind him and smacking over his mouth. Alfred makes a squeaking noise, jerking and snapping his head down to where his future queen is keeping him quiet. She barely looks at him and Alfred lets out a muffled laugh into her hand.

“Natalia so lovely to see you again,” Matthew says gently and honestly. Natalia regards him, the slightest twitch of a smile on her face. Her and Lovino share a graceful nod. Then her attention turns to Gilbert.

Had it been a year ago, Gilbert would have shrunk under her gaze, piercing and cold. Matter of fact, he did. Anytime the Princess soon to be Queen would even pass him a glance, he could feel himself sinking into a pit of wanting to be invisible. He hid in his hoods and refused to meet eye contact. It would be rude by some manners.

Now though, Gilbert is bolder. He holds her judgmental look with his head held high and his shoulders back. She looks him up and down once and he lets her, no falling in on himself. She meets his eyes again.

“Father would like to speak with you,” She says evenly. For all the bravado he just pulled, the words she says have his stomach dropping. Still he follows her, trying not to trip over himself with his Prince’s behind him. Natalia bows before the throne, and when she steps to the side, Gilbert is face to face with the King of the Cold Kingdom.

A rugged man with a neatly trimmed white beard. His eyes are dangerous and a crown of icicles sticking towards the sky doesn’t help that image. He’s dressed in a dark blue adored with white jewels atop a marble throne. And Gilbert is terrified. He forgets his manners, a grave mistake by others, and instead of bowing at the waist, he raises his head back just enough to straighten himself out. He knows he is being judged, he will make it easy.

The King does not say anything, eyeing him up and down and then up again, tilting his head left and right and left again as if it will help him see something he hadn’t before. Gilbert can feel himself unraveling and wanting to shake in his spot. Suddenly when he feels he may collapse, the King lets out a gruff short laugh.

“What is your name?” The King asks with a rough voice.

“Gilbert, your majesty,” He responds immediately. From the shadows appears a person with a notepad at the ready. They do not look at Gilbert or even the King, they just keep their eyes down but it is clear they have been summoned. The King nods slowly to his answer.

“And where are you from Gilbert?” Gilbert inhales slowly, memories of old hit him hard and while the Olive kingdom is where he is now, the rickety shack will always be home.

“The outskirts your majesty, between the Glow and Olive Kingdoms,” He presses on through his answer, honest and unchanging in his stance. The King blinks at him and leans back in his throne.

“The outskirts?” He hisses but it sounds directed at himself. Gilbert clenches his jaw wondering if he will beheaded for saying such a thing. Natalia gives him a side look and he can only hope it’s a good thing.

“Lukas,” The King says sharply. The person with the notepad doesn’t look up but steps a little closer.

“Did we not see him when we made the rounds?” The King turns his head slightly to be sure the question is directed at his adviser. Lukas makes a ‘hum’ noise.

“How old are you Gilbert?” Natalia asks him. Gilbert swallows hard before answering.

“22,” He says. The King narrows his eyes, his hand rubbing at his stubble.

“What is your position now?”

“I am the personal servant to the future King and Queen of the Olive Kingdom.” Gilbert pushes on, gesturing slightly to Matthew and Lovino behind him, both with matching confusion on their faces.

“Interesting.” The King’s eyes burn as they stare and Gilbert finds relief when they turn to look at something Lukas has written down. Gilbert isn’t sure how to feel. Lukas speaks in whispers they can’t hear over the music. Finally the King sighs and leans forward on his legs.

“I must confess myself… Disappointed,” His voice is dark and the glare on his face is one not to be messed with. Gilbert can only keep himself frozen in place as the King stands and walks towards him, looking down like he had been born to do such an act.

“I would like to speak with you,” The King says and Gilbert has to remember to breath. He goes to follow and freezes again when the King turns a sharp glare over his shoulder.

“Alone,” The word is hissed and vile. Gilbert jerks to glance behind, seeing Matthew and Lovino ready to follow, both now frozen as well in their place from the direct order to keep away from the King.

“Come Gilbert,” The King’s voice rings over him and Gilbert can only look to his Princes as his feet follow where they have been told to go. He briefly wonders if this will be the last time he sees them.

The room he’s lead to is lined with books and papers, organized impeccably and wonderfully. Perhaps he would be comfortable in such a room, but the only other people in this room besides him are the King, and his adviser. 

“Did we miss him?” The King says sharply, staring down at a pile of papers. Lukas says nothing but it seems to say enough. The King huffs and then levels Gilbert with a softer look.

“I.. apologize Gilbert,” The King says with a resigned tone. Gilbert is too stunned by the sorrow to ask what the apology is for. Luckily the King must sense his confusion because he goes on to explain himself.

“Should we have found you sooner, perhaps we might have been able to give you a position worthy of your appearance.” Here the King smirks. Gilbert shakes his head.

“I’m afraid I do not understand,” He finds himself saying. This can’t be happening. The King lets out a low chuckle.

“You lived between Olive and Glow did you not? Should you have been in our boarders, you could have been royal.” Gilbert stumbles back at the words, his back hitting books with a thud. He shakes his head trying to wrap himself around what he’s hearing. It’s not possible.

“Lukas is the East Manor still open?” Gilbert snaps his head up. The King and his adviser seem to be ignoring his panic. Lukas makes another ‘hum’ noise and nods. The King sends him a wicked smile.

“While I can not make you royal, I can make you noble.” The King stands and goes to him. Gilbert isn’t sure what to expect, yet flinches anyway, when the King puts an easy hand on his shoulder.

“I knew this conversation would have been different with those two here.” There’s a certain amount of disgust in the King’s voice as he mentions Matthew and Lovino. For what Gilbert isn’t sure but a protective streak rushes through him and he finds himself glaring. The King seems delighted with him anyway.

“Come back to the kingdom in a few weeks, spend some time in the castle, at the East Manor, live the way you should have here.” The King pats his shoulder and makes to exit, pausing in the doorway.

“Oh, keep this between us. This is your decision, don’t let the Prince’s know.” And with that the King is gone. Gilbert slumps, his head in his hands and thoughts racing, racing, racing in every direction. It’s not possible is all he can really manage. He’s an outcast, a servant, a footman. He’s been told so all his life there had been no other position for him. To hear, with a blinding confidence, from a King, that he could have been so much more, is nearly impossible to understand.

Gilbert lets out a strangled sound, slapping his hands over his mouth and a tear slips through his defenses. It’s just so much to handle. But he does. He shakes his head, wipes his eyes and shakes himself back to normalcy. Once he’s ready, he notices Lukas by the door with his eyes down, ready to guide him back to the main hall.

It’s a quiet walk, but Gilbert’s thoughts are too loud.

The dances and mingling are still full swing when he returns. Lukas slips away from him and he’s left on the edge of the wall, watching everyone. He can’t help but wonder where he would be should he had been raised here, lead to believe he belonged here, told he is pretty enough to be someone here.

Then he spies Matthew and Lovino across the way, heads low and talking to themselves with worry still etched into their expressions. His heart yearns for them and all they give him. There’s a deep sadness counteracting it with an idea of what could have been.

“Excuse us,” A small voice says. Gilbert looks beside him, two young persons in dark purple look up to him with bright eyes. Gilbert swallows when they bow their heads to him, he returns the gesture cautiously. They both giggle to themselves then smile back at him.

“Are you enjoying this evening?” The girl asks. Gilbert looks back to the crowd, choosing his words carefully.

“I suppose I am a little distracted from it all.” He’s not sure what to think. The boy takes his turn to ask a question.

“Are you from the North or South?” He asks. Gilbert blinks at him, eyes narrowing with confusion.

“We’re from the West Manor, and we’ve never seen you before,” The girl explains. Nobility, Gilbert realizes, the broaches now apparent on the left side of their chests now evident of their status.

“Are you from the East Manor?” The boy gasps softly. Gilbert stands a little taller, rolling the words over in his mind.

“I could be,” He avoids the answer. He could be though, he could be the Master of the East Manor, he could take that title and be a noble, a fresh noble. The two giggle to themselves again.

“Will you dance with me?” The boy asks. Gilbert’s eyes widen in shock, the expression thankfully unnoticed as the girl gawks.

“I was going to ask him brother no fair!” She whines. The boy laughs and smiles to Gilbert now, inviting, hoping. Gilbert isn’t sure what he’s supposed to do. This can’t be happening. It’s all too clear now what they think he is, what he could be. A noble, someone to be fought over, someone to be seen and heard, someone who can be beautiful.

“Gilbert,” The tone is soft and it snaps Gilbert into focus, gentle and easy. He look to Matthew smiling at him with such adoration in his eyes. Gilbert takes an easy breath, the two young nobles now silent. He turns to them and bows at the waist.

“Forgive me I am needed elsewhere,” And with that he follows Matthew and Lovino to a different secluded area of the ballroom to talk.

“Are you alright?” Lovino asks sternly, a small glare on his face sent towards the King. Gilbert nods, the thoughts still racing, but calmer now. Matthew whines.

“What did he want with you?” Matthew’s tone is more concerned, worried for him, and Gilbert has to shut his mouth tight. He’s not sure why he does it, certainly not because the King asked him to, but maybe the underlying threat of what might happen should he tell of what they talked about.

“He wanted to know more about my past, where I got my appearance.” He says, not telling the full truth. Lovino huffs, anger on his face. He’s always been sensitive when others had not been to Gilbert’s unorthodox self. Matthew is kinder, reaching up a hand to place on Gilbert’s cheek gently. Oh he wishes he could fight the feeling but he can’t help it. The love boils over and Gilbert places his hand over Matthew’s and leans into the touch.

“I’m okay, but the experience has left me, very frazzled, forgive me through the rest of the night,” He says softly. Matthew lets out a small giggle and brushes a thumb over his cheek. A silent agreement that it’s okay and there’s nothing to be forgiven.

The night continues. People dance and eat and talk. Lovino and Matthew dance together beautifully, then Matthew and Ivan as well, the two stepping all over each other’s feet. Alfred and Natalia are surprisingly elegant as a couple, and Lovino dances with the First Princess and future King of the Cold Kingdom as well, a politeness between them, though she looks very shy to do so.

Gilbert watches from the sidelines, a small smile on his face seeing the two he loves having a wonderful time. His mind wanders back to the conversation with the King. If he had been noble, then maybe he could be with them, and not just as a servant, but as an equal. Gilbert dares a look at the King sitting smugly on his throne, he nods at Gilbert when he spies him looking. Gilbert nods back as is polite but the action makes the King more smug.