Disclaimer: I are not owner of Hetalia.

Note: Hello, hello ! Thanks everyone again for the reviews !

I got a few reviews asking about Arthur and Alfred. Unfortunately, those two won't come in until the first or second chapter of the second part of this fic. =P I hope to see you all there, eh ? -Le wink- It won't take much longer !

****** Part two will be posted separately due to its MUCH more mature content. The title will be: Shades of a Forbidden Passion

Now, onto the story ! Enjoy !

''Speech.''

Thoughts.

''German.''

Warning: I did not revise before posting as I simply couldn't wait any longer to post this chapter... I think you've all waited long enough too ! So I apologize for all the possible mistakes I made.

DIS PAPA

Ingrid had been a most faithful servant for her host family fore quite a few years now. She had been serving the present master's father for eight years before said man died. Though old in age, the woman was very young at heart. It was her lively spirit, tenderness and good humour that had secured her place in the household she was serving until her bones grew too old, despite the occasional moment of zeal and laziness -and even gluttony- that sometimes belated her in her daily chores. Fortunately for Ingrid, she was also gifted with quite a handful of years of experience which made her catch up in her chores. Telling herself those lines exactly in her head, Ingrid therefore did not feel the slightest bit of guilt as she lost herself in revery and souvenirs as she held a very particular letter in her hands. She had not read it, of course, only her master will, but the name written in the most graceful handwriting she had ever seen was enough to send her back in his young years, when she was still a free young woman, quite in the bloom of her years, and not yet married. He slightly winkled cheeks suddenly gained a sweet shade of pink as the memory of a suave voice -graced with the most charming French accent of all- took over all coherent thoughts. ''Mister Bonnefoy...'' She muttered fondly, giggling a little. She could not care how silly she was being, how inappropriate it was for a married, aged servant to fancy herself in love with a nobleman from a neighbouring kingdom. Indeed she could not care, for what kind of woman culd not be in utter admiration before one so handsome ? Signing dreamily, the servant turneod her attention back on the letter itself. His last visit had been almost a full year ago, and it had been a few months since her master had sent him a letter and had still not yet answered. Until now, the woman thought excitedly. What if the man was planing to visit again ? Without further ado, Ingrid walked to the breakfast room in a most rapid pace and knocked on the door.

''Come in.'' A rough, confident voice echoed. Ingrid most dutifully obeyed, bowing respectfully as she entered the room. Five pairs of eyes were now on her, wondering what was so important that their breakfast should be interrupted. Ingrid walked to the eldest of the four brothers present and handed him the letter.

''So that Bonnefoy finally wrote back, huh ? He is quite the cheek to make me wait so long like this.'' The same voice snorted opening the letter. As the man scanned over the letter, blood-red eyes widened in surprised, then frowned deeply. After finishing the letter, the man folded the letter and stared at his plate, seemingly lost in painful memories. After a short, uncomfortable silence, the man regained his self and dismissed the servant.

''Thank you, you may go, Ingrid.'' He said in an abnormally calm voice. Ingrid silently obeyed, knowing better than to pry on the matter when her master was in this state. Another silence followed. The rest of the man's family waited patiently for him to speak up, but seeing as the man stayed stubbornly silent, the youngest brother spoke up.

''What's wrong ?'' A light, but concern voiced rang, green eyes darkened in worry.

''Did something happen to mister Bonnefoy ?'' Another voice said, though much deeper.

''What does the letter say, Gilbert ? Do not let us in suspense like this.'' A third voice came, sounding a little more impatient.

''I will read it to you.'' Red eyes closed for a second. Sighing, the man unfolded the letter once more and began to read it.

''My dear friend,

I must apologize for not writing to you earlier. I hope you and your family is in good health.-''

''Sounds rather insensitive.'' A voice cut in.

''Or alarmed, Roderich. Let him finish reading the letter.'' The lady replied, soothing her husband's temper with a gentle caress on his hand.

''The reason I have not written to you earlier is also the object of this letter. Gilbert, I am quite distressed and I implore of you to help me. I am afraid the nature of my issue is such that I'd rather not discuss in written form. I would rather if you, your family and I could me as soon as may be. I would be very glad and grateful if you and your family would do me the honour come visit me in my estate in Paris. Do not be too much alarmed by this letter, my friend, for it is nothing concerning my health, though it will perhaps... no, certainly, it will indeed change the way I am living... I am very sorry for being so vague, but I'd rather not write more details, for who knows in whose hands this may fall... and I will not hide to you, my friend, that it concerns your dear little sister -god bless her soul- young, sweet Lili.

I apologize for the suspicious nature of this letter, but as a most faithful friend, I beg you to consider my invitation.

In hope of seeing you soon,

Francis Bonnefoy.''

A long silence followed the lecture of the letter. All of their expressions were grave in the painful memory of their sister now passed away to the other world for nearly seven years, at the very young age of seventeen. All bitterly remembered the circumstances of the sudden death, and all remembered what role Francis Bonnefoy had played in the matter. Finally, a voice spoke up.

''It is indeed quite suspicious... should we really go ?'' Roderich said, ever the careful and objective man.

''But after all he's done for you and your sister...'' His wife trailed off softly, looking to the ground.

''Elizaveta is right.'' Girlbert stated firmly. He trusted Francis more than anyone. ''We should all go, especially if it concerns Lili.'' The brunet couple silently nodded in agreement. Four heads then turned to the youngest brother, who still seemed deeply lost in thought.

''What do you think, Vash ?'' The tallest, yet second youngest brother, Ludwig, asked, his voice careful. Ludwig, knew his younger brother was especially affected by the letter. Vash was, after all, the twin of Lili and had always been most particularly attached to the young girl. While all were deeply hurt by the loss, Vash was the one who seemed to have the most trouble healing. Twins had a link that was so strong, so mysteriously so, and therefore all of the siblings found it extremely hard to go into the matter with him. They watched painfully as their brother's head fell downcast, hiding eyes with his blond bangs. Vash's fists tightened and trembled, as he seemed to try so desperately not to let his emotions burst. Tears fell softly along his cheeks and, unable to be watched like this and unable to get a hold of him, Vash rose from his seat quietly, face still hidden. Not a word was uttered as the blond exited the room. The door closed with an almost ghostly echo. Slow steps could be heard, though they soon died as they went further away from the breakfast room, accompanied by chocked sobs which simply could not be restrained anymore. Husband and wife shared a pain look and their grip linking their hands tightened. No one dared to say anything for the longest while, until Gilbert, the strongest in spirits, broke the heavy silence.

''We should leave as soon as possible.'' He stated simply. ''I will ask the servant to prepare everything so that we leave on the morrow.'' The three others gave him unconvinced looks.

''What about Vash ?'' Elizaveta asked, worrying that the young man might find the trip too sudden and too hard as it would revive so painful a memory.

''I'm sure he will come and agree with these arrangements.'' Gilbert with confidence. ''Especially him.'' If it concerns Lili, he will not let the matter wait, he added to himself, frowning sadly. He felt the same as his brother.

''But should we not write to mister Bonnefoy to inform him of our visit ?'' Ludwig was one for order and wanted things to be proper. IT would not do to leave on such impulse to have the French gentleman overwhelmed by the suddenness of their arrival.

''Knowing Bonnefoy,'' Gilbert started, leading back on his chair casually. ''and judging by his letter,'' He added, glancing toward the folded paper on the table. ''I think he'd rather have us as soon as possible, regardless of the protocol.'' The light-haired man took his fork and dig it angrily in a pork sausage, which he devoured in the second that followed. ''Besides,'' He swallowed the sausage. ''I do not have the patience to wait the two weeks it will take for the letter to reach Bonnefoy and the other two it will take to receive his confirmation. No indeed, we are leaving tomorrow.'' With that, Gilbert rose and walked to the door, making each step unnecessarily heavy -the man liked to be imposing- and opened the door.

''Ingrid !'' He barked ungracefully. As a warrior, Gilbert had always preferred to scream orders to his servants rather than ringing the little bell. It was far more entertaining. ''Come here !''

Roderich sighed deeply, strongly disapproving of his brother's manners. ''He is incorrigible.'' His wife chuckled.

OoOoO

''Would you like some more tea, papa ?'' Matthew asked politely, smiling softly.

''With pleasure, mon lapin.'' Francis nodded, thanking his son as he served him another cup of some fine chinese tea.

''And you, mister Kumajirou ?'' The little boy said, turning to his friend. Francis watched his son fondly as he leaned close to the stuffed animal. The boy nodded eagerly and served his friend another cup. The little boy carefully lifted the porcelain teapot and tilted it only a little, so that no actual liquid would come out of the it. The boy delicately put the teapot down on the table again and then, gently brought the empty teacup to the bear's muzzle, then set it down again. Francis let out a quiet sigh as he looked down to his own cup. He looked at his reflection, though not truly paying attention to it -not doing like he usually did, he did not check if his hair was in the right place nor did he check if cookie crumbs were on his face- no, instead, the man pondered about the letter he had sent two weeks prior to this one. Had it gotten to his friends safely ? Or did his friend perhaps decided that he did not want to come ? Silly thought, Francis scolded himself, I should not be expecting a reply before next week... Despite how incoherent his thoughts were, Francis could not help but worry, thus leading to the imminent destruction of his perfectly manicured nails by munching on them nervously. Mathieu, noticing his father's odd behaviour, enquired on his him.

''Are you well, papa ?'' He grabbed the silver plate of butter cookies and handed it to his father. ''There are cookies, if you are hungry.'' Mathieu proposed innocently, misinterpreting the munching of the nails. Francis blinked, then laughed softly, relaxing a little. He was glad his adorable son was there to calm him down.

''Thank you.'' The older man gladly took a cookie and ate it with a loud, happy sound of satisfaction. ''Hmmm.'' Which went not without amusing Mathieu in return. The child giggled and, tempted as he saw his father's reaction, took a cookie as well. He ate it and imitated his father by letting out a loud;

''Hmm !'' Mathieu took another cookie and glued it to bear's muzzle. ''It is delicious, sir, please have one !''

Francis sighed, leaning onto his elbows, cheeks comfortable seated on his hands. Dreamily, Francis observed his son as the latter tried to feed his friend a cookie, all thoughts of his friends completely vanished. So very adorable...

Three loud and nervous knocks on the door. They did not seem to brake the young father's musings. ''Come in.'' He said still half in a trance-like state. A maid rushed inside.

''S-sir ! Monsieur Beilschmidt and his family are here !'' The maid informed, almost screaming in utter fright. Nothing's prepared ! She added in her mind. Why had they not been informed ?

''Bon Dieu !'' Francis instantly rose from his seat, chair falling behind him, and ran toward the door of the room, only to stop and turn around toward Mathieu, munching on his nails again. Mathieu stayed unmoving, eyes wide with surprise. Francis looked around from left to right rapidly, wondering what to do, then ran back to Mathieu.

''Sir, what shall we do ?'' The maid screamed again, flailing her arms over her head.

Francis took Mathieu in his arms then ran back to the door, only to stop himself in front of the frantic maid. ''You will take care of Mathieu while I-!'' Francis stopped himself, looking to the ground in a pensive manner. ''Wait, non, you should come with me and take care of their luggage...'' He trailed off half to himself. ''Seigneur ! Come with me !'' Both adults ran toward the hall. Mathieu was still so surprised, he did not even open his mouth. On their way down the stairs, they saw Yong Soo. ''Yong Soo !'' Francis cried in relief and quickly ran down to the hallway to join him. ''Take care of Mathieu, will you ?'' He said quickly, handing him the boy. He and the maid quickly ran toward the main entrance, but Francis stopped again, not even three steps made yet. He turn around and gave his son a sloppy, loud kiss on the cheek then finally joined the maid -who had not stopped in her race- to greet the unannounced visitors. Mathieu rubbed his wet cheek with the back of poor Kumajirou's head in childish disgust. He looked up to his friend and teacher, genuinely worried.

''Is something bad happening ?'' He asked.

''It all depends. Did your father or Bernadette say anything ?'' Yong Soo replied, smiling in amusement at the scene that had just occurred. Mathieu pondered for a second and another question came to him.

''Who is monsieur Ble...'' Matthew stopped, finding quite hard to pronounce the name. ''Belshmite ?'' He tried.

''... Beilschmidt ?'' Mathew nodded. Oh. Yong Soo thought. I see. ''Well,'' he started, walking toward the library -Mathieu still securely wrapped in his arms- for the child's lesson. ''it is both a good and a bad thing.'' Yong Soo said, teeth shining in an almost mischievous way as he smiled.

''What do you mean ?'' Mathieu asked, a little lost.

''Well, monsieur Gilbert Beilschmidt is a very good friend of your father's. However...'' He said as he shifted Mathieu on his arm so that he could open the door with he newly freed one. ''... he has a very bad temper, an over-dimensioned ego and an unpredictability that can lead to catastrophes.'' Yong Soo explained with enthusiasm -which Mathieu did not questioned, already used to the Asian's odd, but fortunately also very enthusiastic, behaviour.

OoOoO

As he walked with his maid, Francis ordered every servant that crossed their path to prepare everything that was necessary for their guests and to warn their coworkers. Soon, the Beilschmidt family came into view in the great entrance hall. Francis leaned a little to adjust his height to Bernadette's and whispered.

''Once they have been greeted and their luggage have been taken care of, go directly to the kitchen and inform the cooks of their arrival. Dinner shall be served at eight.'' Bernadette looked down to her watch; it was two in the afternoon. She nodded.

''Very well, sir.''

The duo stopped themselves in front of the guests and bowed respectfully to them. The Beilschmidt returned the bow with equal courtesy.

''Welcome, my friends. I'm glad to see you here.'' Francis said, trying to hide all traces of anxiousness the best he could. The maid quickly did as instructed and joined the coachmen to tell them where to put the rather large chests.

Gilbert's red eyes sharpened slightly in annoyance. The German made a little grimace; he was not one for such formalities -especially between friends and family- and, with a dismissive gesture, quickly swooped away the tense atmosphere. ''Likewise, likewise.'' He said smugly as he walked to Francis, giving him a firm -but very friendly, of course- grip on the shoulder. ''You've got nerves to make my great self travel all the way here in such a short period of time.'' A wide smirk formed on his lips, showing sharp canine teeth. Behind him, Roderich cleared his throat loudly, wanting to remind his brother of their existence. Gilbert turned to them, surprised to see his siblings looking at him with either annoyed or judgemental eyes. Gilbert blinked. ''What ?'' All siblings sighed in unison, some shaking their head in an exasperated manner. Francis chuckled, grateful for his friend's gesture. He suddenly felt more at ease; he reminded himself that these guests were his most trusted friends and that this would never change. He smiled to his friends and, despite them looking tired from the long trip, looked very well in their colourful, silky clothes. All, except one; Ludwig was, as always, dressed in a simple black robe with the white clerical collar that his profession required him to wear.

''Ever the gloomy one, Ludwig.'' Francis joked.

''I prefer to call it modesty, Bonnefoy.'' The blond replied, not the type to joke around.

''And ever the serious !'' The Frenchman exclaimed, laughing.

OoOoO

Francis and his guests, after the greetings, found themselves in the sitting room in the western AIL of the Bonnefoy Domain. The party first exchanges their most recent accomplishments and events, followed by their old adventures that they shared together; memories and such. The party shared laughter after laughter, until one particular member of the party -the youngest of all- stopped talking all together. He had been getting tired of the silly talk; he wanted to get down to business.

''Hahaha ! Indeed, that was very much amusing. The face that Roderich made-''

''I think we've had enough of this... I would like to know why, exactly, are we here and how it is related to my sister.'' He said, arms and legs crossed, his air GRAVE. An uncomfortable silence followed. The German siblings looked at each other, looking their opinion, and all nodded, agreeing with their youngest brother's words. Francis sighed a little. He understood his friends' worry, though had naively wished to avoid the matter a little longer, even if he knew it was pointless.

''You are right I apologize.'' Francis said calmly. He looked down to his hands nervously, pondering on which words to use and where to start. He looked up again to the Beilschmidt family, then swallowed nervously. ''W-well... you see.'' He closed his eyes for an instance, to calm himself, and started again. ''A littler over three months ago, a woman came to me with a yong child and said that he was my son.''

''That is scandalous, you didn't believe this woman, I hope ?'' Roderich said instantly.

''I did. He truly is my son.'' All were silent and gaping. Francis continued. ''You'll agree once you see him.'' He chuckled lightly, thinking fondly of his son and proud to say that his son looked like him. His smiled faded a little as he thought of what else was left to say. ''He is also the son of a... a WHORE...'' All except Gilbert gasped. Gilbert kept his face neutral; he wasn't entirely surprised -knowing more than anyone else of his friend's not so moral tendencies- and he did not care about ranks and morals enough to find the confession a scandalous thing.

''You cannot be serious !'' Elizaveta exclaimed, absolutely horrified. ''How did this happen ?''

''It's obvious what happened.'' Gilbert snorted. The woman silenced him with an angry slap on the arm. ''Ow ! Why did you do that ?'' He was ignored as everyone turned their attention back to Francis.

''Well... I usually am careful of the woman's... cycle, and take other precautions but-''

''Usually ?'' Ludwig gasped, mortified by how casually the Frenchman spoke of one human's greatest sin. Francis looked to the ground, ashamed. Especially in front of a priest -his friend, no less.

''Yes... a-and I was quite drunk that night -and quite eager- and Jeanne was very beautiful a woman and-'' He cut himself as he saw his friends' expressions, well, except Gilbert again; the man wasn't exactly pure either. ''But I've changed !'' He declared hardheartedly as he rose from his seat. ''I've truly changed... ever since my Mathieu came into my life, everything changed in here...'' He continued as he put his hand over his heart. ''Elizaveta... Roderich... I'm sure you understand...'' He said as he looked over to the couple, who looked at each other painfully. They joined their hands to support each other. ''I've made mistakes and I want to repent for them. I truly do.'' He said now looking at Ludwig, who looked at his cross around his neck. ''I want to make sure Mathieu lives a normal life, a life that a son of a man my rank deserves. But to accomplish that, I need your help.''

''What happened to that woman, the child's mother ?'' Elizaveta asked.

''She died several months ago. She kept Mathieu's existence a secret to me until just recently. It was an acquaintance of hers who brought him to me along with a letter she wrote before dying.''

''...a-and how old is he ?''

''Seven years old.''

''The poor little thing.'' Elizaveta whispered sadly to her husband. There was another silence.

''And how are we supposed to help ?'' Vash asked impatiently, still not getting how his dead sister could be involved. He cared little for the illegitimate child.

''It is risky, but the facts are such that there is no better alternatives for me. For Mathieu is seven years, I have not been involved with society for even longer than that, your family is not known here, so people would not know of the specific circumstances of your sister's death, Ludwig is a priest of influence and lastly... your sister died exactly seven years ago.'' Francis added the last statement with hesitation, fearing his friends reaction. Vash frowned, letting all the facts getting to his brain and analyzing them. He gasped, eyes wide, as he realized what the French had in mind.

''Are you suggesting...'' The rest of the family looked at him with confusion; they had not come to the same conclusion apparently. ''... that Lili should be the mother ?'' They all turned to Francis, incredulous.

''That's exactly what I am suggesting. Ludwig could easily make the marriage papers, as well as Mathieu's birth and baptism papers.'' At this point, even Gilbert could hear no more.

''You are out of your mind, Bonnefoy ! It will never work; there are way too many risks ! How do you expect people to believe you ? Not to mention that if you are going down, you are bringing all of us with you !'' Gilbert growled. ''And this simply to able your child to live in open luxury !'' Francis gritted his teeth, not liking the last statement.

''Of course, the luxury comes with my rank, but that's not the question !'' Francis snapped. ''I want this so that I can openly declare that Mathieu is my son and so that he can live a life without having to hide from the society !'' Francis fell back on his seat with a heavy sight, the whole thing striking to him in a headache. He rubbed his forehead with his head, closing his eyes a bit, then looked at the Germans again. ''Furthermore, people would believe me because it is me; people know that I am an eccentric man, that I am passionate, excessive, egocentric... the fact that I am so out of the ordinary makes the story believable, because it is me. I am one of the only nobles in the country that would secretly marry a young girl from a foreign country and morn her sudden death by secluding himself for seven whole years !''

''That- !'' Gilbert started, yelling in anger. He stopped himself as he thought it over. ''... is true.'' He continued, calmer this time. The Germans looked at each other. This could actually work.

''Supposing we go through with this...'' Elizaveta started, making it clear in her ton that is was a indeed a supposition. ''... it would make your son legitimate, but the marriage would not be looked upon with a good eye; you seem to forget that we are no nobles.'' Her husband nodded in agreement. Francis smiled at the statement.

''Ha ! Nonsense.'' Francis declared, waving his hand dismissively. ''With Vash that, with his tremendous sense of... economy and investments, brought gold into your pockets in a matter of a few years; Ludwig, a priest of great reputation that wrote sermons and spiritual books that inspires admiration; Roderich who is a great musician and composer, one of the most famed in your country, and with Gilbert who is a respected knight and most trusted by your king himself !'' He turned to Gilbert. ''Didn't you say yourself that you were in your King's good grace ? Where it reached the point that you call him by a pet name ?''

''Yeach, old Fritz !'' Gilbert smirked.

''Indeed, indeed !'' Francis nodded eagerly, then turned to Elizaveta again. ''And you, of course, my beautiful Elizaveta. You are Roderich's wife and a talented opera signer. All those facts force respect on one's opinion of you and your family.'' Francis' smile was now very wide. ''When people would ask of my wife's connections... I would have nothing but good things to tell. On top of all this, it is indeed bad for a noble woman to marry a man of no rank, but for a man to marry a woman of not special social importance; it is not so much of an issue now a days.'' The german family smiled at their friend's speech, genuinely flattered to hear that Francis -a man of high rank- was thinking so highly of them. They trusted his judgement; if he believed that the marriage would be well received, then they would not doubt it. However, the plan was still extremely risky.

''Thank you, Bonnefoy, I always knew we were quite extraordinary, but it is pleasing to hear it from others.'' Gilbert said cheekily, his expression then turned more serious as he stared into the blond French's eyes. ''Though I'm not sure if I'm willing to go through this...'' His siblings nodded in agreement.

''We are grateful for what you did; f-for finding our sister's assassin, but...'' Vash trailed off, it was hard enough for him to even brush the subject, but he also felt guilty. For the Beilschmidt family, ever since the execution of the murderer, had promised themselves they would repay the nobleman when the occasion presented itself. Now that it was there, they weren't sure if they could keep their promise. Francis looked down. He couldn't blame his friends.

''I understand...'' He whispered, inconsolable. The siblings looked at each other guiltily.

''Hey, Bonnefoy, we didn't say no yet...'' Gilbert laughed nervously. ''I believe we need some time to think this through on our own.'' He turned to his siblings. ''We should separate and clear our mind and take our time.'' The rest of the party looked at him wide-eyed. They weren't used to him speaking with such wit. ''What ?'' He barked, annoyed.

''You're right, my friend.'' Francis spoke, regaining some hope. ''Make yourselves at home and take your time. I know this is an important decision. Dinner will be served at eight. You shall also meet my son then.'' He smiled. ''Meeting him will help you make your decision, I'm sure.'' All nodded, and so it was.

OoOoO

''... and so if there were fourteen fish and that monsieur Kumajirou ate six of them, how many fish are left ?'' Yong Soo asked Mathieu.

''Hm...'' Mathieu started counting on his fingers. He lost track of the count; why didn't he have fourteen fingers ? It would be so much easier... He turned his attention to the little drawing that his teacher had made. He hid six of the fish with his hand and counted the remaining ones. ''Eight ?''

''Exactly.'' Yong Soo smiled. He opened his mouth, ready to go over the next exercise, but was unable to as Francis entered the room with a loud sigh. With heavy and sloppy steps -so unlike his normally graceful ones- the man fell on the nearest chair, letting out another sigh. The younger pair blinked. Yong Soo looked down, worried that Francis' idea might have failed. Mathieu took his bear in his arms and, jumping down his chair, quickly went to his father's side. Francis reached down for him and sat him on his lap, hugging him tightly.

''You look tired, papa.'' Mathieu stated with worry, resting his head on his father's shoulder.

''I am...'' Francis said, running his fingers through the boy's fine hair.

''Why ?''

''Well...'' Francis searched for the correct words. He didn't want to explain it to Mathieu until he had the final answer. He didn't even plan on telling him, should the answer be negative. ''I asked for a very, very big favour and I'm not sure if it will be granted. I'm very worried, that's why I'm extenuated.'' He shifted the boy on his lap so that they could be facing. ''What should papa do ?'' He asked kindly. Mathieu tapped his lips with his index, deep in thought.

''Take a nap ?'' Francis chuckled, nodding.

''A very good idea. Would you like to take a nap with your papa ?'' Mathieu nodded eagerly; anything to escape the math lessons. Smiling, Francis got up and exited the room. Mathieu -still in his father's arms- waved goodbye to his teacher. Once the door closed, Yong Soo sighed a little. He looked down to his exercise. He had noticed Mathieu's lack of interest in Mathematics. He pouted. Perhaps if he let Mathieu draw for the exercises...

OoOoO

As soon as Francis entered his room, he kicked off his shoes and took of Mathieu's as well. The man truly noticed for the first time how a child's feet were small and couldn't help but coo and squeal, muttering something about his Mathieu being insupportable adorable. Mathieu blinked; he had not understood what he had done exactly to deserve this, but even though he didn't understand, it wasn't entirely surprising either. He was used to his father's open affection. It had often happened that the boy was doing the simplest things -eating, talking, even just plainly standing- and his father would suddenly find him utterly adorable and hug him and kiss him. Not that Mathieu minded, though. He liked that aspect of his father; it had quickly erased all doubts about his father's love for him since their 'reconciliation'.

And so, after his cheek was bombarded with a series of quick and gentle kisses, Mathieu was snuggled against his father's chest -he then actually realize they were on his father's bed, still dressed and on the bed- and before he could even tell his father to sleep well, the man was already snoring loudly. Mathieu chuckled. Poor papa, he mused, he really is tired. Mathieu, though, wasn't tired. He had wanted to escape his lesson, true, but the little boy was also worried about his papa. He thought about what he had told him. A very big favour... He thought. To mister Beilschmidt ? He asked himself. It must me. Who else would it be ? Mathieu looked up to the sleeping face of his father. There must be something I can do... Mathieu convinced himself. I have to convince mister Beilschmidt to accept papa's request ! He didn't know what it was; but Mathieu was far too young and naive to realize that this was quite an important detail to know. Very slowly, Mathieu carefully slipped out of his father's gentle grip. He didn't want to wake the man. Kumajirou in his arms, the child then jumped out of the bed. As he made his way toward the door, Mathieu was startled by incoherent mumblings of his father. He turned to see his father, scared that he might have waken him up. The man seemed to be searching for something in sleep. Mathieu swallowed nervously. He relaxed -and tried his best not to laugh- when he saw Francis grab the nearest cushion and hold it tightly, mumbling something that Mathieu supposed was his name. Turning around, the little child tip toed to the door and exited the room and started to wonder around the domain in look for the famous mister Beilschmidt.

OoOoO

After parting with his family, Ludwig had instantly gone to the only place where he thought might help him make his decision: the prayer room. The room was quite grand, though it did not surprise Ludwig; it wasn't his first time in the room and every nobleman's domain had a room of the kind. Though it was grand, it was also quite simply decorated compared to the rest of the manor. What made the room so charming were the beautiful stained-glass windows. Ludwig had been kneeling in front of them for quite some time now, and it seemed like his case wasn't getting better; the more he thought about the matter, the more confused he was about his duties.

''What shall I do ?'' He asked the figure in the window. ''I should be helping the father and his child, it is my duty yo help those in need...'' He confessed, then looked to the ground. ''...but to forge the papers would be a sin... and putting my own family in danger as well...'' He put his hand on his forehead, sensing a giant headache coming. He was getting desperate. He looked up to the glass again. ''Please help me... give me a sign, anything will do !'' He begged.

''E-excuse me, sir...'' A tiny little voice startled Ludwig. The man turned around, his eyes widening at the sight. There, in the doorway, stood a young violet-eyed child whose golden hair waved and curled in a charming manner. The boy was wearing white pants and puffy shirt and a pale beige suit embroidered with golden flowers. Laces and ribbons decorated the clothes as the extravagant -yet tasteful- french fashion would have it. In his arms, the little boy held a snow-white stuffed bear. Ludwig could not believe his eyes. Had a little cherub been sent to help him ? ''Are you monsieur Ble-Beilschmidt ?'' The boy asked timidly. Ludwig could only nod, too awed to even utter a word. The little boy's eyes seemed to brighten up. He walked near him, clutching his bear closer to him, as if it would protect him from any possible danger. As Ludwig got a closer look of the boy, it didn't take him too long to realize that the boy was, in fact, Francis' son. Ludwig smiled a little; he wasn't a real cherub, but perhaps this did not mean that his prayer had not been heard after all.

''What can I do for you, my child ?'' He asked kindly, his accent not too noticeable. The boy blushed and looked down to his feet, shyness getting the better of him. Ludwig could not help but widen his smile. He rose from his kneeling position and took the boy in his arms. Sitting in the nearest chair, the blond man then sat the little boy on his knees and waited patiently for the boy to speak.

''Well...'' The boy started, his voice muffled by the synthetic fur of his bear as his hid his face in it. It had seemed so much easier in his mind. But now that he was in front of the man, the boy had lost all his confidence. He looked up to Ludwig. He blinked as his noticed the clerical collar. The boy loosened up. ''You are a priest ?'' The boy asked, his shyness vanishing for a moment.

''I am.'' Ludwig smiled. Mathieu gladly returned it.

''Maman said you are special. That we can tell you secrets.'' Ludwig flinched slightly at the mention of the child's mother, but quickly relaxed as he heard the rest of the boy's words. He chuckled a bit.

''I wouldn't say 'special', but true, you can tell me anything that is troubling you and I won't tell anyone. I'm here to help.''

''This is wonderful !'' The little boy exclaimed happily. ''Then you will help my papa ?'' Ludwig blinked. Did the child know of his father's plan ? Wasn't he a bit young for that ? To make sure, Ludwig decided to confirm it himself.

''How can I help him ?'' The boy stared, suddenly realizing that he didn't even know what the favour was about.

''I don't know...'' The boy admitted shyly, slightly embarrassed at his own ignorance. Ludwig, though, only smiled more. I thought so.

''You don't know ?'' Ludwig pried, faking surprise. Matthew shook his head.

''But he said he asked you a very, very big favour.'' Mathieu blushed a little as the next words came. ''He seems sad and worried... so I was hoping that...'' He trailed off.

''You want to see your father happy, so you want me to help. Is that the secret you wanted to tell me ?'' Ludwig asked fondly.

''Oui.'' Mathieu nodded into his bear.

''I see that you love your father very much.'' Mathieu nodded again. Ludwig looked up to the stained-glass windows. Everything was clearer now. He had almost forgotten about how innocent and pure a child was... and that children were worth every sacrifice. He would help the child in any way he could, and if his family did not accept Francis' plan, then he would find another way. He knew it was his duty, and he certainly owed the child's father that. ''Then I will try my best to help him.'' Mathieu stared up at him, eyes sparkling in gratitude.

''Really ?'' Mathieu asked excitedly. ''Thank you so much sir ! Thank you !'' Ludwig chuckled, patting the boy's head affectionately. He had barely met the child, but he could tell that Mathieu had not the slightest bit of malice in him. He really was like a little cherub. ''Yong Soo said you have a very bad temper, a very big ego and that you made bad things happen... but I don't think you are like that at all !'' Mathieu genuinely exclaimed, a very big smile on his lips. Ludwig stared, unblinking, for a long moment. Then, unable to hold it any longer, he burst out in loud laughter. The child tilted his head to the side, not getting what was so funny.

''Hahaha ! Oh dear brother, haha !'' The normally solemn man burst out laughing. It was a pity that the child was not aware of how brilliant his words had been. His laughter slowly died into soft chuckles. He put the little boy back on the ground. ''I'm afraid you have the wrong man in front of you, Mathieu.'' Ludwig kindly explained. Mathieu oh'd in genuine surprise.

''You know my name, sir ?'' Mathieu blinked his large curious eyes.

''Your father talks very fondly of you. I could not forget your name even if I wanted to.'' Ludwig chuckled again, seeing the little boy's cheek reddening in embarrassment. ''I believe you are looking for my brother Gilbert.'' He explained kindly. Mathieu oh'd again, his embarrassment doubling. Mathieu whispered a soft apology; Ludwig only shook his head dismissively. ''No offence taken, Mathieu. My name is Ludwig.'' He informed, getting up to stare at the stained-glass again. ''I believe you will find my brother in the garden.'' Mathieu nodded excitedly.

''Thank you, mister Ludwig !''

The clergyman looked as the boy ran out of the room, a fond smile on his features.

OoOoO

Elizaveta and her husband had been walking around the garden for nearly half an hour now, during which not even a word was exchanged. The couple we deep in thought, wondering what to think about the matter and, more than anything, wondering what was their partner's opinion and if it agreed with their own. The matter concerned them in a level that was entirely their own and that only the closest family members knew about. In their walk, one would have nervously looked at the other, trying to decipher in his or her face some kind of clue, some kind of answer, but only confusion was found. When their gazes met, the couple would smile nervously at each other, trying to offer compassion and encouragement. Finally, Roderich invited his wife to sit. Hands joined, the couple stayed silent still. Unconsciously, Elizaveta put her hand on her stomach, rubbing it gently as she thought. Roderich did not fail to notice the gesture; he looked to the side, suddenly feeling ashamed. Perhaps, after all, he knew what his wife thought of this matter. He also knew why his wife did not want to voice her opinion; she was afraid of him. He could not blame her; he had always made it clear that all that he wanted was to live an honourable life; proper and respectable. This matter defied his ideals.

''Excuse me, are you mister Gilbert ?'' Mathieu asked softly, startling the couple. Mathieu could not bring himself to pronounce the strange family name; he hoped he wasn't being too impolite. Mathieu tightened his grip on his bear tightly; the couple was looking at him like he was some kind of strange creature; no doubt that they had not expected his appearance. Elizaveta was the first to regain her senses. She smiled at the child, she could clearly see the resemblance with her friend.

''You must be Mathieu !'' She said cheerfully, her concerns forgotten for now; she had been very eager to meet the boy. When the boy nodded, Elizaveta distanced herself from her husband, tapping the empty space on the bench between them. Mathieu obliged and sat. ''My name is Elizaveta and this is my husband.'' She said, letting her husband the pleasure of introducing himself. Said husband blinked, a little taken aback by the boy's appearance and even more upon realizing he was his friend's very son. Clearing his throat, Roderich regained his composure.

''I am Roderich Beilschmidt. GilbertBeilschmidt is my brother.'' He informed. Elizaveta chuckled at her husband formality; Mathieu was but a child, after all. Mathieu 'oh'ed in understanding. Just how many brothers did this Gilbert have ? ''What business do you have with him, may I ask ?'' Mathieu lowered his gaze, clearly intimidated by the older man. Elizaveta glared at her husband, who instantly felt himself become smaller under the woman's fierce motherly instincts.

''Do not mind him, Mathieu, he is always like that.'' Elizaveta said sweetly, catching the boy's attention. ''But do tell us what you are doing here alone. Are you lost ?'' Mathieu instantly gained cheerfulness as he listened to the pretty lady's soft voice. He turned to her.

''Mister Kumajirou and I are looking for mister Gilbert. Mister Ludwig said we might find him here.'' He said animatedly, showing his polar bear proudly to Elizaveta. She had a hard time not squealing and gushing over the little boy. She patted the bear's fur gently as she introduced herself and shook his paw politely. Being the gentleman that he is, mister Kumajirou kissed the back of the lady's hand gallantly. Unable to stop herself any longer, Elizaveta took the boy in her arms and sat him on her thighs. Roderich simply kept watching, stubbornly staying silent. He drifted his eyes from the sight. He just couldn't bear the sight. Seeing his wife so happy and so beautiful with a child in her arms. He couldn't.

''Mister Gilbert, huh ?'' Elizaveta repeated, chuckling at her own words. It sounded so... it really didn't suit her brother-in-law. Elizavetha started playing with a curly blond lock, a fond smile on her face. Mathieu blushed, looking down shyly. It felt just like when his mother played with his hair. He looked up again and hesitated a bit before finally giving in to his curiosity.

''Do you have children, madame ?'' Elizavetha flinched at the question. She spared a nervous glance at her husband and saw that he was still looking away. Though she could guess how he was feeling very well. She looked down to his hands; his fist clenched so tightly they were trembling. Elizaveta sighed softly. She turned to the child again and offered him a tiny smile.

''No, unfortunately.'' She said simply. Mathieu put a delicate hand on her cheek.

''You look sad.'' He then hugged her tightly. ''I'm sorry.'' Elizaveta hugged back instantly. How jealous she was of Francis right now.

''It seems that my husband and I can't have children.'' She stated simply. Roderich turned to her, a sharp, hurt stare on his face.

''Elizaveta !'' But she ignored him and continued.

''We tried... many times... but it never worked.'' Mathieu blinked, then looked down both sad and confused. He didn't know how exactly children were made; he just knew they were in a woman's belly -he found it quite strange, really- for a while and that -according to what his father had been willing to tell him- it took a whole lot of love. Mathieu never asked if his papa had loved his mother. For some reason, he didn't want to know.

''But papa said it only needs love to grow.'' Roderich stared at the child, who seemed completely oblivious to it.

''Well... it's a little more complicated than that.'' Elizaveta chuckled. Mathieu mused for a second, pouting cutely. He looked down to the lady's belly and gently placed his hand on it.

''Maybe she's shy.'' He nodded to himself, seeming quite convinced of his own statement. ''Don't worry, madame. When she's ready...'' Mathieu trailed off, unsure of how to end his sentence. 'She'll come out', 'She'll grow' ?

The brown haired couple stared at the child, a strange warmth invading their body. Roderich was the first to regain his composure. He smiled and playfully ruffled the boy's hair.

''I believe you will find my brother in whichever places your father hides alcohol, my boy.''

''Really ? Thank you, sir !'' Mathieu brightened up. He got off Elizaveta and waved them goodbye. Mister Kumajirou did the same, of course, and, just like that, off he went. The couple looked at each other. A shy blush suddenly graced their cheeks. The chuckled childishly as they held hands. They had lost all hope long ago, yet the boy had given it back to them so easily...

OoOoO

Mathieu ran inside, Kumajirou crushed against his chest, as if afraid of dropping him. His short breaths were becoming louder and louder. The tiredness took over him at last and he stopped himself in his race. Catching his breath, the boy suddenly realized that he had no idea where he was going. He slapped his forehead -a habit he had taken from his father every time Yong Soo would say something stupid- and sat on the wooden floor. He tapped in a unchanging rhythm on his pouting lips, trying hard to remember where exactly his father hid his wine; the bitter, disgusting wed liquid all adults seemed so fond of. He realized he truly didn't know. Yong Soo just usually brought the bottles to his father. That's it ! He thought. I could ask Yo-

''Are you Mathieu ?'' Said boy looked up.

''Woah !'' Mathieu fell back on his back, surprised to find a young-looking blond man crawled in front of him, his nose barely inches away from his. When had this man appeared ?

''Everything alright ?'' The man's chuckling voice asked. He extended his arm to help the boy up. The help was gladly accepted by the seven-years-old.

''Thank you, sir... but who are you ?'' He asked, his eyes wide with curiosity. Is he mister Gil-

''My name is Vash Beilschmidt and you are Mathieu, yes ?'' He asked a second time. Mathieu stared. Pouting, the boy nodded. Just how many siblings did this Gilbert have ? Vash laughed at the boy's expression. ''Is something the matter ?''

''N-no, thank you, sir.'' Mathieu shook his head hurriedly, a little embarrassed. Vash silently observed the little boy. He had been quite curious about him and now that he was in front of him, he certainly wouldn't miss the occasion to learn more about the boy. With this in mind, Vash sat on the floor directly in front of Mathieu. Mathieu blinked at that. He looked around discretely, looking quite uncomfortable. The stranger, although he didn't seem evil, didn't have such a welcoming aura around him. Now that he thought about it, all the Beilschmidt brothers weren't, at least at first sight, quite the epitome of friendliness. This Vash was no exception. Seeing the child's distressed expression, Vash took the initiative of starting a conversation.

''Why don't you sit down and tell me about yourself.'' As strange at the question sounded, Vash thought he could not think of anything else to say; he wasn't one to beat around the bush. He would ask the boy in his own way; Are you worth it ? Do you deserve this sacrifice, the risks ?

Matthew blinked. He, quite frankly, was too innocent to even think someone would be suspicious of him. He smiled and sat on the ground as well. The man was probably lonely, having such stuck up older brothers. The man wanted a friend.

''Well...'' Matthew started excitedly, playing with mister Kumajirou's paws. What should he say first ? ''I like to draw a lot...'' He looked around aimlessly, as if the walls would tell him the answers. ''I like to read too ! But I don't really know how to read... well, I started, but I'm not very good. I prefer when papa reads for me. I really love papa... and Yong Soo too ! Oh, and this is mister Kumajirou. He's my best friend ! He's not very talkative though, and he's very shy, like me ! I don't like numbers... but I like sweet things, like cake, cookies, pudding, chocolate... Do you like chocolate ? I don't have any with me...'' He trailed off, suddenly craving for chocolate. He wondered if Yong Soo would give him some, even though it was almost time for dinner.

And then Vash suddenly wanted to buy something both exceedingly expensive and useless. As as punishment. A punishment for ever doubting that a child did not deserve any sort of sacrifice or risk. Especially a precious friend's son. He looked so much like his sister, too... Even at seventeen, Lili had stayed that same enthusiastic and lively girl that never failed to warm his heart up. Matthew had that same aura of sweetness and candour which he had always admired in his sister. He knew he was not being rational, he knew he had just met the boy, but he suddenly wanted to protect that aura, that kid. He wanted to protect what he hadn't been able to protect back then... seven years ago... He sighed heavily. It seemed like seeing the boy made the ache in his heart sharper, yet he also knew that this boy could help him getting rid of it once and for all. He got up and extended his hand to the boy. The latter smiled charmingly at the short blond and took the offered hand. Both walked through the mansion -Vash had not resisted the urge to carry the boy securely in his arms- and they were chit chatting like little children. It didn't take long for Vash to be completely enchanted by the little boy.

Soon enough, though, their little walk was interrupted and, for Vash at least, it probably could not have been interrupted in a more unnerving manner.

''Hey ! Who's that little fellow ?'' A low, grunchy voice asked. It was none other than infamous Gilbert's voice. He walked toward the two -again his steps overly heavy- and leaned in close so that he could see Mathieu's face, which revealed itself to be a rather hard task as the boy's shyness kept him from doing so. He would hide his pinkish face against Vash's shoulder. And then, at that moment precisely, Gilbert cooed. If he had not been holding young Mathieu, Vash would have slapped his forehead. He grunted unhappily when Gilbert took Mathieu from him. He was holding him up in the air so that he could get a better view of him, he was holding him like a doll. Vash knew what was coming; he knew his brother, he knew that the man, despite the impression he gives, loved, adored the adorable, the small, the fragile... and really, wasn't Mathieu the very epitome of all these things ?

''Where did you find him ? Can we keep him ?'' Gilbert asked hugging the child closely to his chest. Mathieu felt it was safer to stay silent. His hands now free, Vash most eagerly slapped his forehead.

''Gilbert... this is Mathieu, Francis' child. So no, we can't keep him.'' He stated exasperatedly. Mathieu blinked.

''...M-mister Gilbert Beilschmidt ?'' He asked hesitantly. Gilbert's smiled widened and his eyes seemed to sparkle. It was quite the sight.

''Aw, you know my name ?'' He asked cheerfully, his tone contrasting with his almost constantly grumpy-sounding voice.

''Y-yes...'' Mathieu continued shyly. Now that he had the man in front of him, his confidence seemed to lessen. ''I, hm... I had something to ask you-'' He barely had time to finished the albino was already cried out in excitement.

''-anything you want ! You can ask anything you want !'' Mathieu blinked. The man was not at all like Yong Soo had described him. Although, he granted, the man did seem to be quite unpredictable indeed. Though he didn't have a bad temper at all ! He seemed quite amiable ! Mathieu smiled cheerfully, which only made Gilbert coo louder (and Vash slap himself harder).

''Well...'' Mathieu started, using his innocence and charm to his advantage as he pouted cutely. ''I was wondering if you'd help papa-'' Again, no more words were needed for Gilbert to answer.

''Yesyesyes, I know exactly what you mean. Of course we will, won't we, Vash ?'' He asked suddenly sounded a lot more... threatening when he addressed himself to his youngest brother. Said blond stared at him, a little taken aback. He speared Mathieu a quick glance -who was blinking at him- then sighed a little, smiling.

''We shall indeed.''

OoOoO

After much happy and grateful hugs and kisses exchanges between Mathieu and Gilbert -and surprisingly enough, Vash as well- Mathieu went straight back to his father's room, hoping to finding him still asleep. He was glad to see that it was indeed the case and so, tip toing his way back to the bed, Mathieu climbed onto it and snuggled back into his father's embrace. He fell asleep almost immediately; he was quite a bit tired after his little adventure. Unfortunately for him, time seemed to pass much to fast as he was waken up by his father's soft voice. It was apparently already time for dinner. Half-asleep, the blond child let his father help him change and get him ready for this special occasion, as his father put it.

''I have some people I want you to meet.'' His father explained, seemed a little nervous. Mathieu felt a little guilty for not telling his father, but he figured it would made a good surprise.

''Really ? Your friends ?'' Mathieu asked innocently, letting his father pamper him up as he wanted his son to look 'as adorable as ever'.

''Yes. We all have some very important things to discuss together.'' Francis patiently explained, adjusting a little white ribbon in his son's blond curls. He was quite sure that his friend would be unable to resist to his little angel's charms.

Preparations finally all taken care of, father and son went down to the grand dinning room where they would wait for their guests. Mathieu was awed to see the room. Although he had visited the entire domain with Yong Soo, it was their first time dinning there. Yong Soo had explained to him that this room -much bigger than their usual one which, Mathieu thought, was already quite grand- was used only when guests came over. Mathieu also noticed with further astonishment that the silverware and the overall setting of the table was much more luxurious and elaborate than usual.

Mathieu was suddenly brought out of his musings by a maid who entered the room, bowing to them.

''The Beilschmidts, sir.''

''Very well, let them in, of course.'' Francis smiled, picking Mathieu up in his arms. The german family entered all seeming in very good humour. They smiled brightly when they saw Mathieu. Francis seemed to take this as a good sing.

''This is my son, Mathieu.'' He said, walking towards his friends.

''Yeah, we know.'' Gilbert smirked, stealing the boy away from his father.

''Hey ! A-and what do you mean, you know ?'' He said irritably at the loss of his son.

''We all met him already.'' Gilbert explained smugly, petting Mathieu's hair and ignoring Elizaveta's jealous remarks regarding the boy.

''What ? When ?'' Francis asked dumbfounded. The only moment they could have met was... he looked at Mathieu who, when meeting his father's surprised gaze, quickly shied away, hiding his face in Gilber's ruffles.

''Does it really matter ?'' Gilbert said impatiently. ''What matters is that I-we, we will help you !'' He exclaimed, ignoring his siblings' glares at his mistake. Francis, on the other hand, was speechless.

''Y-you... ?'' He said, unable to keep his lips from trembling, truly moved by the news.

''Yeah.'' Gilbert smiled, tapping his friend's shoulder. ''Your little boy here managed to convinced us. Wasn't a very hard deed to accomplish, was it Mathieu ?'' He asked the boy. Mathieu only smiled back shyly in response. Gilbert gave the child back to his father. Francis hugged him tightly against him, kissing head hair tenderly. He looked back at his smiling friends, eyes watery.

''Thank you.''

''No tears, now, my friend. That is not very manly.'' Gilbert teased, not one for emotional scenes. Francis chuckled, nodding. ''Now, will we stand here forever or will you actually feed us, Bonnefoy ?'' All laughed and gathered around the table.

The first course was served; it was a beautiful assortment of a various selection of cheese and patés de fois gras. The bread was freshly made and still a little warm. Francis had asked for their best wine in stock; it was a happy event; it had ought to be celebrated accordingly ! Even Mathieu took a bit of wine. The little boy, however, didn't seem to be enjoying the taste as much as his father and his friends. The boy had a hard time finishing the second course as there was so much food on the table. It was a shame, really, for Mathieu had never tasted a cream of mushroom of this quality. But then again, every time he ate since he came into his father's castle, it had seemed to him like every meal had been the best he had ever eaten. His father's friends expressions seemed to be expressing the same thing. The Beilschmidts, although quite wealthy, did not have the fortune of having such an excellent french cook like Francis did. After finishing his plate and having no more of an appetite, Mathieu walked over to his father and went to sit on his lap. Francis chuckled at that; indeed it wasn't very practical to eat like this, but he was too happy to care at the moment. Plus, the little blond seemed much happier to sit with him and it was simply adorable to see Mathieu happily butter his bread for him even though he hadn't asked him to. It was less boring for him, he supposed -and more comfortable- as there was still six other courses to come. He smiled down at his son and kissed the top of his head tenderly. His smiled saddened when his gaze met Elizaveta's longing one. It quickly disappeared when Mathieu started to chat happily about his discovery of a little squirrel in the garden the other day.

After a short, comfortable silence, Mathieu finally gathered up the courage to ask the infamous question.

''What do you need help for papa ?'' He asked innocently. He still didn't know what all this was about. Mathieu blinked when all the adults exchanged wary gazes, wondering how they should explain the situation to the boy.

''Our society...'' Ludwig started carefully. ''...is corrupted in its values. Therefore, it is imperative that-''

''...Ludwig, you are not reciting one of your sermons right now. And this child probably did not understand half of what you just said.'' Elizaveta scolded, though her tone was light and teasing. She turned to the still-blinking little boy and tried her own way.

''You see, Mathieu, it is like flowers and bees. When-''

''Enough ! No need to go into details !'' Francis cut off, flustered. What were they thinking, explaining such things to his pure little angel ? ''Mathieu, as you know, your mother and I were not married...'' He started calmly, hoping he would not hurt the boy by mentioning his mother. The boy, fortunately, seemed to be taking in this well as he simply nodded in acknowledgement. ''If you want to be well-received in our society... get a good education, be treated well, get a respectable income... you must be married before having children.'' Mathieu nodded again, lowering his head as if ashamed.

''You are not treated well, papa ?'' He asked, his tone guilty and sad. Francis smiled at his child, cupping the chubby cheek with one hand, caressing it tenderly.

''If I am, that would be my own fault, mon lapin.'' He sighed a little, wondering what he should say next. ''But I'm afraid that you won't because of me...'' Mathieu cocked his head to the side, not quite understanding what his father meant. Francis glanced at his guests, silently begging for help. But they, too, seemed at lost of words. He decided to explain how things truly were as simply as possible... careful not to mention certain details about his mother's life. ''Because I did not marry your mother, that would not make me a respectable father... and therefore, people would not see you as a respectable son.''

''But papa is the best papa in the world !'' Mathieu protested with conviction that brought a smile to Francis' face.

''Thank you, Mathieu.'' He said, kissing him softly on the cheek. ''But people are not kind and understanding like you, mon petit ange.'' He explained, chuckling somewhat bitterly. How he hated his society sometimes, and how he hated himself for not being any better than them... but he knew that Francis needed that poisoned society to get Mathieu a better lifestyle, as ironic as it sounded. ''They wouldn't be able to see those quality in you... they would be full of prejudices.''

''What does prejudices mean ?'' Taking them off guard, he made the whole room laugh. Mathieu blushed, suddenly feeling a little shy and embarrassed.

''It when you have an opinion about something or someone before getting to know them.'' Elizaveta explained kindly, earning a shy 'thank you' from the boy.

''My friends here...'' Francis continued. ''... are here to help me getting marriage papers, so that I can make people believe I was married.'' Mathieu blinked in confusion again.

''Isn't it like lying ?'' He asked, sounding quite astonish. ''You told me it's bad to lie.'' He pouted childishly. How come his father could lie and not him ?

''Sometimes... you are allowed to lie, Mathieu.'' Francis smiled. ''You are allowed to lie if it's to protect someone you love. In this case...'' He trailed off, petting his son's hair gently. ''I want to protect you. I want to protect you from those bad prejudices.'' Mathieu said nothing, but his gentle smiled told Francis he understood what he meant. ''But only in this case you can lie, you hear me ?'' Francis added sternly, though keeping his smile on. Mathieu nodded. Another question came to him.

''But how can you lie-marry maman ? She's... not here anymore.'' Francis swallowed hard, glancing nervously at his friends.

''We used to have a sister, he name was Lili...'' Everyone turned to Vash. ''She died seven years ago. She's going to be your mother.'' He stated simply. Mathieu turned back to his father, a worried and confused frown on his delicate features. He didn't speak for a long time. It didn't make sense at all. All this, it didn't make sense.

''B-but... why ? Why not maman then ? If that lady is gone too... it won't work, right ?'' He voice was quivering. He couldn't explain it, but he was hurt and scared. Why all this ? Francis' throat tightened painfully at the sight. He could see his friends were getting anxious as well. How could he explain to this child that his mother...

''What your mother did for a living, Mathieu...'' Ludwig spoke up, choosing his words carefully. ''Wasn't right-'' He was cut by a sharp kick on his shin by Elizaveta. He closed his mouth tightly.

''Wasn't right ? But she told me...'' Mathieu sniffed. ''She told me she made people feel better...'' Tears started to form in his eyes. He remembered the times his mother would leave with men... strangers. She would come back tired, sad... every time he would ask, she would just tell him that. That she had made the man feel better. He had always known yet always denied that what his mother did... rather, what those men did... His mother wasn't making them feel better. In fact, they were just making his mother feel bad.

''Mathieu...'' Francis hated himself even more... He despised himself. He was finally realizing that men like him... He was finally realizing that Mathieu hadn't been the only one suffering. His mother too. He had never cared for these women before... some of them had chose this, were dirty, vulgar... but some had been forced into this, some had no way to escape.

''Non ! I don't want another maman !'' Mathieu cried out, struggling out of his father's grip and pushed him away. He fell onto the floor as Francis hadn't been able to catch him in time. Ignoring the pain, Mathieu quickly got up and ran out of the dinning room.

''Mathieu ! Wait ! Please !'' Francis cried, panicked. He quickly got up as well and ran after him. All the others followed him, dinner completely forgotten. Mathieu was a fast runner. He was also quite small and could hide easily. Before long, the young blond had managed to fool everyone. They had completely lost his trace. It didn't help that the castle was quite grand.

''Quel enfer...'' Francis cursed under his breath. He turned toward his guests, sighing heavily. ''I'm sorry about this...''

''No, don't be. It's an understandable reaction... especially for a child so young.'' Elizaveta said calmly, patting his shoulder. ''Let's separate and find him...'' She suggested to the others.

''I'll go find Yong Soo, then...'' Francis said. Maybe the Asian knew where Mathieu would hide.

OoOoO

Mathieu stared at the white sheet of paper in front of him. In his small hand, he held a thin piece of charcoal. He slowly put it on the paper and slowly made a single line. He stared at it. What did they mean, what his mother did was not right ? Why did he need a new mother ? Why had her mother died ? Why did she have to die ?

''Who is my mother ?'' Mathieu whispered in a soft, broken voice. He traced another line. He closed his eyes. He remembered his mother. He remembered what she looked like... distorted, blurry, so different from his new world... He opened his eyes again, resuming his drawing. Each stroke of charcoal became faster, angrier... Tears were flowing down Mathieu's cheeks. ''My mother's name is Jeanne.'' He assured himself. He sobbed as he drew, as he drew what he had always seen as his mother. He dropped the charcoal once he was finished and again, just started at the now dark sheet. He chocked on his sobs. This was his mother ? No... what did she really look like ? He trailed a finger softly along what looked like the roundness of a cheek, smudging the lines as he did so... not that it really mattered; it didn't make much difference compared to the portrait... He then brought the finger to his glasses. Now that he could see, was this portrait what 'prejudices' would make her mother look like to others ? Something so different from what others are used to... It would be scary to them. Tears fell onto the drawing, smudging even more here and there. ''Maman...'' Mathieu whispered ''I want to see you so much...''. He put both his hands on his glasses. They were trembling. If he took of his glasses, would it make some kind of reversing effect ? Would it make his mother look like what she would have looked like in this world ? Hopeful, Mathieu slowly took them off. He was almost scared to see. What he was seeing now, was his mother, the one he at looked at all his life. What would she look like ?

As he took of the glasses, Mathieu's last bit of hope disappeared. Everything around him was blurry, different... the portrait was even more distorted and wrong. It was so misshaped that all semblance of humanity that had been there was gone. His mother had just disappeared. Again. He clenched his eyes close tightly and tore his glasses apart, throwing them far away from him. He covered his face with his hands and muffled his cries.

''M-ma- maman...''

OoOoO

It had almost been an hour and they still had not found the little boy. Francis was getting desperate. He was so worried he feared he would break down any moment. It seemed like he had just gotten Mathieu to love him and now, he felt like he had ruined everything. He had started his second round around his castle... he was standing in front of Mathieu's room. It was probably too obvious a place to hide, but he was hoping to find the boy there. Breathing in deeply and holding it in, he reached the doorknob with his hands. He stayed there, frozen. He could hear something. Leaning in, Francis listened carefully. He could hear him. He could hear his son, sobbing and calling for his mother. Francis' heart clenched painfully. He slowly, quietly opened the door. He could feel his eyes starting to burn at the heartbreaking sight in front of him. The poor child's face was dark from the charcoal on his fingers, his skin was red and wet from the tears and his cheeks puffy from the crying. He looked to pitiful and sad that Francis could feel his knees weaken, as if it was too much to bear.

''Maman...'' The boy kept calling.

Francis walked to the boy, kneeling beside him. He knew his son was aware of his presence, buy the boy did not pay him heed. It was then that Francis saw what was on the paper. He frowned, wondering where Mathieu could have gotten the inspiration to draw such dark, gloomy creature. His eyes fell on the bottom of the page where six letters were written.

Jeanne

Francis' throat tightened painfully. If this was how Mathieu had seen the world... he saw the broken glasses lying pitifully on the floor. He turned to Mathieu and gently took him in his arms. He wanted to squeeze him between his arms, to make him feel how much he loved him, but he decided not to succumb to himself. Instead, he kept his embrace tender, gentle, almost delicate. He covered the boy's face with kisses so soft, they felt like feathers to the boy. At first, Mathieu stubbornly ignored his father, keeping his eyes shut and sobs loud. But the more kisses his father was giving him, the sweeter his words got, the more he found himself abandoning himself into the other's arms, until finally, he calmed down. He breathing evened and he felt himself grow tired.

''Look at me, Mathieu...'' Francis said, cupping the child's cheeks in his hands. Mathieu shook his head, keeping his eyes shut still.

''I don't want to see.'' He explained. Francis understood.

Getting up, Francis kept Mathieu tightly in his arms as he walked over to the drawer and opened it. Inside was a pretty wooden box. He opened it, revealing the second pair of classes he had ordered. Francis was glad for having done so. He would order another one tomorrow. He took the glasses in his hand and carefully put them on Mathieu's nose.

''Look at me.'' He repeated. Mathieu stayed silent for a moment then slowly opened his eyes. They were so sad and tired. Opposite to what Francis was used to see; innocence, candour, liveliness... ''By no means am I asking you to forget about your mother, Mathieu. She is your mother and it will never change.'' He said softly, brushing a few golden strands away from the boy's face. ''There are things that I can't tell you... not now. But what my friends and I are doing... it's for your own good and I know...'' He hesitated for a second. ''I know that your mother would agree with this and be grateful.'' At this, Mathieu's eyes watered again, but he refused to let his tears flow. If his father said so, he was sure it was the truth. He buried his nose in his father's neck and closed his eyes, shoulders shaking as he tried not to cry. Francis rubbed the boy's back smoothly for a long time, gently rocking him back and forth in his arms. Finally, he felt Mathieu's breathing even. He was asleep. Carefully removing a few unnecessary layers of clothing, Francis left only his shirt and pants on so that the boy could sleep more comfortably. He then took his handkerchief and, wetting it with the water jar on the table, washed the boy's face and hands. He tucked them in his bed and kissed his forehead. Before exiting the room, Francis took the broken glasses with him so that he could dispose of them. He closed the curtains and left the room, sighing heavily. He truly wished his son didn't have to go through this...

OoOoO

''Is he feeling alright now ?'' Elizaveta asked worriedly after Francis had explained what happened. All -including Yong Soo- were now sitting in the west music room.

''Yes... he fell asleep after that. He seemed to have understood the situation.'' Francis said tiredly. All his energy had been drained after this evening's events.

''Hav you told him about his mother ?'' Yong Soo asked sceptically. Francis shook his head.

''No, he's too young for that. I told him I would tell him when his is older...'' He'll be wondering what his mother has done for the years to come... Yong Soo thought sadly. What a torment for a child so young. Francis looked at everyone and smiled. It was tired, but honest. ''Thank you for all you have done for him.''

''It's the least we could do.'' Gilbert said. Everyone agreed, nodding their heads.

After a short comfortable silence, all debated on how they would proceed to legalize Mathieu's birth without it looking too suspicious and, of course, without getting caught in the process. It was agreed that they should make it so that Francis' and Lili's supposed marriage had been a secret one; they would had been married by Ludwig himself and it had occurred in Germany. Only close family members had been present. Francis could easily justify this secret marriage to the french nobility by saying he was afraid of being criticized since the Beilschmidts were no nobles and that, seven years ago, the german family hadn't made themselves stand out in society as they were now. For seven years ago, they had still been a poor family without importance, and it was quite true. It was a wonder Francis knew the family at all. Francis smiled fondly at the memory. It had been a little over nine years ago. He had been on a trip to Germany and had been in a local tavern in a small village. He had been dressed as a commoner as not to stand out from the crowd. There, he had met Gilbert. The two had became friends over beer and games of cards; Gilbert had cheated and had won most of Francis pocket money back then. It truly was a fond memory.

They then agreed that Lili's fake cause of death should be childbirth. Her murder had been a dark affair and the family had made sure that the matter had stayed in the dark for that reason; they didn't want to make their poor sister's fate known to people. The girl had actually been murdered by an enemy of Gilbert's -Gilbert still to this day blamed himself for his sister's death, but he always kept quiet about the matter- an officer in the german army that had been jealous of Gilbert's fast rising in the ranks. Gilbert had mocked him... the man hadn't liked that. It was thanks to Francis' fortune and relations that they had been able to catch the criminal before he killed the others. Francis had hired the best detective in the whole country. He had also been quite 'persuasive' when he had questioned the officer that had been close to the man.

The hardest part was to make people believe that Francis had been so devastated by the death of his wife that he had hid himself and the child from society for seven long years.

''As I have explained to Yong Soo already...'' Francis started, pausing to take a sip from his glass of wine. ''I've always been the egocentric type... but I think you know this already.'' He smirked. ''I already had a reputation well-established seven years ago. My long absence only proves it. I stopped attending those boring parties as soon as my parents died; there weren't anyone to force me to go. If anything, I could even add the morning of my progenitors on top of Lili's to make the story more credible.''

''I suppose it's true. Then if people ask why you have decided to reappear only now...'' Vash trailed off, wondering what the reason could be.

''Easy. You'll barely have to lie for this one.'' Yong Soo said. ''You have now recovered from your loved ones' death, your wife's situation is no longer shameful and you wish to introduce your soon to the society so that he, too, may move on.'' He offered simple. Everyone nodded, approving the idea.

''Fair enough, fair enough, but there is still one detail that hasn't been settled.'' Roderich said, sounding strangely confident.

''Oh ? And what may this be, my dear husband ?'' Elizaveta asked, chuckling. It was rare to see Roderich in a teasing mood.

''Mathieu's godparents.'' He said, chin high. Francis blinked. ''But that shouldn't be hard to decide.'' He took Elizaveta's hand in his. ''For I think it is obvious it should be Elizaveta and I.''

''What ? No ! Francis 'married' my twin sister ! I should be the godfather !'' Vash contested.

''But he wouldn't have a godmother !''

''Like we care about-''

''Seeing as I am clearly the most virtuous of the family,'' Ludwig cut in in his deep, powerful voice. ''I think it is only natural that I should be the godfather.'' Yong Soo's brows twitched. He frowned deeply in annoyance. If anyone here should be Mathieu's godfather, it's me ! He cried out in his mind. But he knew much too well that it was absolutely impossible, seeing as he was but a mere servant.

''But that's-''

''Kesesesese.'' Everyone turned to Gilbert.

''What's so funny ?'' Vash asked loudly, annoyed by his brother's idiotic laughter.

''You, my dear siblings, seem to be forgetting something...'' He said, laughing loudly. ''There is a natural order to follow to decide of that. Since both our and Bonnefoy' parents are gone and that he has no siblings-''

''Wha-''

''-And me being the eldest brother, I, Gilbert the Awesome, shall be the godfather.''

''What ?'' His siblings cried out.

''You ? No way ! You're not fit for the role !'' Ludwig protested.

Both Francis and Yong Soo sighed heavily. The fight went on and on, until the germans forced Francis into making a choice. He swallowed hard. He knew he was probably going to regret it later -especially if the siblings decided to evacuate their rage on him- but he decided that Gilbert should indeed be the godfather 'as tradition would have it' as he explained. Heated protests followed from the younger Germans and, after much fighting and menaces, they all went to bed. Francis and Yong Soo stayed behind, enjoying the quietness for a while.

''It looks like all will be well after all...'' Yong Soo smiled.

''Indeed.'' Francis gladly mirrored the smile.

OoOoO

Two months had passed since the Beilschmidts had left the Bonnefoy estate. It was only one month later that Francis got the confirmation from Ludwig -though a letter attached to the official papers- that all administrative details had been taken care of. Of course, all of Francis' servants had been informed of the situation and had all sworn they would play along for Mathieu's sake. For the occasion, Gilbert, as the godfather, had send several presents to Mathieu. A letter later arrived from Elizaveta stating that Gilbert had actually just stole the presents the rest of the family had gotten for Mathieu and had all sent them together with his own saying they were all from him. Francis had laughed so loud, reading the letter. It was so typical of Gilbert.

For the past weeks now, Francis had been looking for the best teachers he could find for his little prince and writing to them. Most of them had replied with a positive answer. It wouldn't take much more teaching from Yong Soo for Mathieu to reach the level where he would finally be able to go further in his education. Barely a few more weeks passed and Mathieu was indeed ready. Tomorrow would be Mathieu's first lesson, but Francis wanted to keep the subject a surprise for the boy. Said boy was so excited he could barely stay in place. Francis smiled fondly as he looked at him playing around in his study with the toys he had gotten from his new aunt and uncles -he had personally wrote back to thank them, which had made the Germans beyond happy- humming happily.

Francis, however, couldn't help but think back at the dreadful evening... he still remembered the horrid portrait of the boy's mother. He felt guilty. He found it unfair that he actually knew what his mother looked like while Mathieu had absolutely no idea...

''Wait... that's it !'' Francis cried out, an idea suddenly popping in his head.

''Hm ?'' Mathieu blinked innocently. ''What's the matter, papa ?''

''I have an idea... it's going to be hard, mon coeur, but we shall try !''

''Try what, papa ?'' Mathieu asked, even more confused.

''To draw your mother's portrait.'' Francis smiled. Mathieu seemed to flinched at that. Francis got up from his desk -on which he had been writing to one of Mathieu's teachers- and took the boy in his arms. ''Don't worry, Mathieu, you'll do well, I'm sure.''

OoOoO

''...yes, like this... now, if I remember correctly...'' Francis pondered as he looked at the basic and minimalist sketching of a woman's face on the canvas. ''... her nose was slightly higher from her lips.'' Mathieu nodded and erased the nose. ''And make it a little thinner too.'' Francis added. Mathieu nodded again, resuming his sketching. Francis closed his eyes, trying very hard to remember that face from seven years ago. It was especially hard considering that it had only been one night and that Francis had seen many more women before and after Jeanne... but he was blessed with a very good memory. Especially when it came to pretty faces. He was a bit ashamed, however, to remember more of the woman's generous curves than the actual face... Fortunately, despite the uncanny resemblance father and son shared, Mathieu truly did look like his mother as well. It really helped.

''Like this ?''

''Yes, like this.'' Francis smiled. He then took the small mirror off the little table beside the easel and held it in front of Mathieu so that he could see himself. ''See the curve of your ears ?'' He said, brushing the hair away from one of the blond's ears. ''I'm fairly sure it's your mother's. Mine isn't like that.'' Mathieu's smile was so happy Francis thought it must have hurt. The boy seemed happier and happier every time his father pointed out something he shared with his mother, even silliest thing.

It took many hours to finish the sketch, but fortunately, applying the colour was much faster, as Mathieu remembered the exact shade of brown her mother's hair and eyes had been. His vision had not been good, but he could see the colours just as clearly as anyone else.

After that first draft of his mother's portrait -which had made, once more, his father astonished by the boy's talent considering his age- the boy would come up with more questions to make the drawing even more detailed. Some such as if his mother had any freckles, where they were... Francis was quite sorry to be unable to answer most of them, but Mathieu was much too happy about the results so far to be upset about it.

When finished, Mathieu had spent hours just looking at the sketch. It was a very moving sight for every one in the estate. It had a very bitter taste to it; so happy but pitying at the same time...

Mathieu made many more portraits of his mother with his father's help. In different angles, different situations, different emotions... each time perfecting his style, little by little. Francis would later realize that it was during that particular period that Mathieu made most progress with his skills in arts. He had never seen the boy draw with so much passion.

AN:
CRISS I took sooo long posting this... The main obstacle was Vash's meeting with Mathieu. I had this ridiculous writer's block for that part in particular... I'm sorry if it sucks, I know it does, but I really couldn't come up with something less sappy and less unoriginal lol... ANYWAYS !

THIS CHAPTER IS THE LAST OF PART ONE !

Yes, you've read correctly lol. When I wrote the last line, I felt it was a good place for the first part of the fic to end. I hope I'm right lol What do you think ?

Also, If you're wondering about Mathieu ever growing up or his teachers, I was thinking about doing this in the second part. I think it would be more appropriate this way as part one's focus was on Mathieu's relationship with Francis while part two is about his growing into a young adult and everything...

I hope you enjoyed this chapter ! And all the chapters before that too, actually ! Lol

I hope to see you all in part two ! Hopefully it won't take as long to update; I'm quite inspired for part two !

THANK YOU AND PLEASE REVIEW !