Starting Over, Part 3

The bath was wonderful, hot and relaxing, and with a little effort Wolfram could almost forget he wasn't alone in it. Since moving back into this wing, he'd been
in an awkward position as far as the bathing area was concerned. The engagement had drawn a line between him and his men that he hadn't truly been
aware of until Yuuri had left. In the field he'd had no trouble slipping back into old habits, bedding down with his squad and bathing in whatever water source
was available. But the first time he'd stepped into the bathing room here in the castle he'd realized just how different things were. He'd been stunned to see
his men falling over themselves to clear the room. Daniel had glossed over it, saying they were simply making way for him so he wouldn't be disturbed by their
chatter, but he'd already realized his mistake. In the field he was leader, comrade, soldier, but here he was fiance to the king and they couldn't forget that
even when he was trying his hardest to. Now he made it a point to bathe last if possible, and to bar the doors to prevent any awkward encounters. Maybe that
was why he felt so uncomfortable being in here with Yuuri, hearing him breathe and feeling the ripples when he moved. He'd grown accustomed to being
alone in here. It was nice to know he could doze off without worrying about slipping under the water or staying in too long. At the same time, it seemed
inappropriate to be sharing this room with Yuuri when he couldn't even share it with his own squad. He should have taken Yuuri to the royal baths when he'd
had the chance.

"Did you ever like girls?"

Wolfram sat up so fast his elbow smacked painfully into the side of the bath. He grabbed it, glaring at Yuuri. The wimp couldn't even look him in the eye.
"Just what are you implying? You slapped me, remember?" Why did everyone seem to forget that? Yes, he'd said something he shouldn't have and now that
he'd met Yuuri's mother, he understood how angry he must have been. But any real man would have punched him for it. It was hardly his fault Yuuri had
grown up in a strange human world where men smacked each other when they were angry. The fact that he'd ended up engaged to a man didn't make him
any less of a man himself.

"I know," Yuuri winced, still not looking at him. He ducked his head until his chin dipped into the water. "I didn't mean anything by it. I was just wondering if you
ever had any crushes growing up..."

"Hn." As if he didn't know exactly where Yuuri was going with this. "For your information, I once came very close to slapping Gisela."

"What!" Yuuri snorted water and ended up sputtering and hacking. "You didn't!"

Wolfram glowered at him. "Why is that so hard to believe?"

"It just is!"

"Well, I did. I'd gotten into a fist fight with this insufferable brat who expected me to fawn over him just because of who his father was." It had taken his mother
forever to smooth things over, and he'd gotten quite the lecture from Gwendal. At the time he couldn't have cared less. "I locked myself in my room and
refused to come out and apologize. Gisela had the guards break my door down and then she came bursting in, cornering me and yelling at me and..." He
couldn't help but laugh at the memory. She'd been so terrifying he'd ended up cowering before her, and she'd pushed him around so much the healing had
hurt a lot worse than the fight. "I made up my mind then and there that I was going to marry her. I spent weeks trying to figure out a way to slap her without
anyone catching me."

Yuuri closed his mouth, feeling a little shell-shocked. He was still struggling with the concept of Wolfram pursuing a girl, any girl at all. But Gisela? And the
way Wolfram described it, it certainly didn't sound like a childhood crush. More like an attempt at revenge. "Um, so...why didn't you do it?"

"Are you kidding?" Wolfram demanded, gaping at him. "She would have challenged me in a heartbeat and I could barely summon fire back then, forget using
a sword. She'd have mutilated me and Gunter would have finished me off. I might have been rash and impulsive, but I wasn't stupid." He huffed moodily,
folding his arms over his chest. "Besides, I think Brother knew what I was up to. It was nearly a year before his men stopped following me any time I went near
her..."

"Oh." He had a sudden image of a pint-sized Wolfram stalking Gisela through the castle, with green-uniformed men popping up to foil him at every turn. It still
didn't sound very romantic to him, but it definitely sounded like something Wolfram would do. He'd seen the stalker side of him on more than one occasion.
Then again, if Wolfram had been that young then it probably hadn't stemmed from attraction. Yuuri frowned. "What about Elizabeth?" She was gorgeous, a
strong fighter, and totally in love with him. Yet Wolfram had completely brushed her off.

Wolfram groaned, "I've told you I don't remember why I slapped her. I do know that I would never have intentionally struck her for any reason. She was a
sister to me. The fact that she still calls me brother should tell you something about our relationship. I don't know how it's done in your world, but brothers and
sisters don't marry here."

"They don't on Earth, either," Yuuri said quickly. "I'm sorry I brought it up, okay?" Wolfram sniffed, sticking his nose in the air. The sight brought a helpless
smile to his face. Wolfram had to be the only person he'd ever seen who could do something that snobbish and still look cute. "So what about guys?" That
nose came down and he was given a narrow-eyed stare. He struggled not to squirm or look away.

"I never seriously considered slapping a boy. I did have a crush on one once, though." The look on Yuuri's face was amusing, as if he were both eager and
afraid to hear more. "We were training in magic and every time I tried to throw a fireball he'd have his friend blow it down so he could use his earth element to
smother it. I should have known he was already taken from the way they teamed up against me. I could have won a one on one duel easily, but he would
never accept my challenges. It was always the two of them making me look like a fool."

Again, there was nothing resembling puppy love as Yuuri defined it. He raised an eyebrow. "And you liked him for that...?"

"No, I wanted to kill him for that," Wolfram snorted. "I liked him because no matter how infuriated I was with him, he still made me laugh. They both did,
actually." He flashed Yuuri a weak smile. "That's when I finally realize they weren't just teaming up to spite me. I was jealous for a while after that, but I got
over it."

"So you gave up."

Wolfram grinned, stretching back against the edge of the bath and folding his arms over his chest. "Hardly. You don't find entertainment like that every day. I
kept training till I left them both in my dust. Then as soon as I got my own squad I made them my second and third in command. Which is why just barging into
this bath without checking first is a very bad idea." He waited a moment, and then laughed at Yuuri's expression. "Yes. Those two. They haven't changed
since the first day I met them."

Gisela had mentioned ordering bedrest for Wolfram's second in command. Yuuri had seen the blonde carrying the dark-haired boy into the castle earlier,
which meant he was the second. He was also the one Wolfram had suggested he pretend was a girl. Prettier than Yosak. Well, that wasn't saying much
considering those biceps of his, but still. If that was the one Wolfram had liked, the 'girl' in the relationship, did that mean he thought of him the same way? Or
maybe he was wrong and it was the blonde Wolfram had liked. If he'd had a crush on Gisela because she'd stood up to him, then... "Which one of them did
you-"

"It doesn't matter," Wolfram cut him off. "That was a long time ago. Don't for one minute believe that I harbor inappropriate feelings for one of my men
because I don't." He narrowed his eyes when Yuuri continued to look doubtful. "Understood?"

"Yeah!" Yuuri grimaced. "Okay. I was just curious. You don't have to bite my head off. So...are they married, then?"

"Hasn't Gunter taught you anything?" Wolfram sighed in exasperation. "Of course they're not married. Neither of them are nobles so it's not as if they have
to worry about someone proposing to one of them. Besides which, they're soldiers on the same squad. They'll live, fight, and die together with or without a
ceremony. A formal mazoku marriage requires the blessing of Shinou- Oh..." He dropped his eyes, blinking in surprise. "I don't know how marriages are
being done now. I've been away from the castle so much it never even occurred to me. I'll have to ask Gunter about that." He shook his head, "But as far as
soldiers go, they rarely marry unless it's to pass the family name down to their children."

"I see. Gunter hasn't really gotten into that stuff yet," said Yuuri. He wasn't sure how the discussion had gotten to marriage. He was trying to segue the topic
to attraction, but so far all he knew was that Wolfram tended to have crushes on people who bullied him. One of whom was now a member of his squad and
prone to making out with his boyfriend in this very bath... Not knowing which of them it had been was going to drive him crazy. How was that fair? Wolfram
would never have tolerated him having regular contact with someone he'd once liked, especially if he refused to say which one it was. He couldn't even point
out the hypocrisy without Wolfram getting insulted and angry with him. To think, all those times Wolfram had accused him of cheating just for talking to people,
and here he was sharing a bathing room with some pretty boy he'd had a crush on. "So, um, if we hadn't gotten engaged, do you think you would have ended
up marrying a guy or a girl?"

From the moment Yuuri had started talking, Wolfram had known they were leading up to this. What he didn't understand was why Yuuri felt the need to fumble
all over the place instead of coming right out with it. Throughout the entire engagement Yuuri had never hesitated to tell anyone who would listen that he
wanted to marry a girl, preferably a princess, but any female would do in a pinch. It was hardly a secret. He already knew and he wasn't interested in hearing
the details. So if Yuuri thought asking him about his crushes would make him return the favor, he was sorely mistaken. His crushes had been in the past,
fleeting and over long before the engagement. Yuuri's were current. Wolfram had enough trouble remaining civil without having to hear about all the girls he
was looking to replace him with.

He slipped under the water, wetting his hair again, and then started combing it with his fingers. The delay was enough to make Yuuri look distinctly nervous.
He couldn't help but feel a little guilty about that. He didn't want to make this harder for either of them, but the engagement had to hold at least until Yuuri
became sixteen in his world. Then he could dissolve it without any formality at all. In the meantime, they had allies and nobles to placate, and that would be a
lot easier if there was as little conflict between them as possible. He gave the nicest smile he could muster. He hoped it didn't come out bitter or patronizing.
"Yuuri, if you're trying to ask which I would have preferred, then my answer is that I was never particular. I've only had a few crushes in my life and they were
on people I thought I'd never be bored with. Their gender had nothing to do with it." It was only as he grew older that gender became an issue. He looked too
much like his mother and acted too much like his father. The contrast simply didn't work. He was too pretty for girls, too abrasive for boys, and women merely
saw him as a cute doll to dress up. As his mother liked to tease, it was the men who were interested in him and marriage was the last thing on their minds.
"Now, if you don't have any more personal questions, why don't we get out?" He flicked his wrinkled fingers. "I'm getting waterlogged."

"Right..."

Yuuri hurried to get out first so he wouldn't catch a glimpse of Wolfram emerging from the water. His hormones picked the strangest things to get excited
over. A flash of his knee when he'd slipped under the water, the curve of his arm when he'd combed his hair, the nape of his neck when he'd turned to look
over at him. They were about the same size and shape, and he was nearly as pale as Wolfram was. The sight of his own arm certainly didn't do anything for
him, and knees weren't exactly sexy...as far as he knew. Maybe instead of trying to broach the topic of attraction with Wolfram, he should talk to someone on
his own wave length, like Murata. It wasn't just the cultural differences. The age issue made him wonder if mazoku even had the sort of puberty phase
humans did. For all he knew they didn't have the same hormones, or they got them when they were too young to act on them. Their bodies aged slower, but
their minds wouldn't. Right? Conrad had said they were usually five times older than they looked. But he couldn't wrap his mind around that. If Wolfram had
been physically two years old for five years, then by the time his body turned three he would have had the mind of a fifteen year old. Which would mean he
now had the mind of an eighty year old. He certainly didn't act like it. Or maybe the mind was limited by the body, and it took mazoku kids five years to learn
what human kids could learn in one. That didn't sound right, either. It definitely wasn't something he could ask Wolfram about. He supposed he could ask
Conrad, but it would be obvious he was asking with Wolfram in mind. He couldn't quite picture himself asking Conrad when his little brother had gone through
puberty.

The problem was that everything he'd heard implied Wolfram had liked people for their personality, not because he'd been attracted to them. Which made him
wonder if Wolfram was attracted to him at all. He'd never looked at him that way, let alone hit on him. The closest he'd ever come to making a pass at him had
been in the cave that time, when he'd suggested they share body heat. For all he knew that could have been due to the miasma, the bad vibes of the place,
and not any inclination on Wolfram's part. The irony was staggering. All this time he'd taken it for granted that Wolfram liked him that way, because it wasn't
unusual for guys to like each other 'that way' here. And now, just when he was trying to accept the fact that he liked Wolfram that way, he was confronted with
the possibility that he wasn't even Wolfram's type. Or that Wolfram didn't have a type because he'd hit puberty either when he was physically too young to act
on it or mentally too old to be tempted by it. What was he supposed to do with that? There was no way he could admit his attraction if it wasn't mutual.

He was just starting to tug on his hair in frustration when Wolfram interrupted him by pushing a stack of cloth at him. A blush took over his face as he
wondered how long he'd been standing there like an idiot. It couldn't have been for too long because Wolfram wasn't quite decent yet. He was toweling his
hair, wearing a soft-looking pair of white pants with a draw string at the waist and nothing else. Yuuri was somewhat proud that his eyes went from the pants to
the towel without pausing too long on what was in between. Blue might have been Wolfram's signature color, but he looked good white, too. It really brought
out the color of his hair. It would look even bettered if he weren't frowning as if he'd just eaten something sour.

"Stop daydreaming and dry off before you catch a cold," Wolfram sighed. Letting Yuuri soak for so long had clearly been a bad idea. He looked even more
out of it now than he had earlier. "And get dressed. You can't walk in the halls here with just a robe."

Yuuri dropped his eyes, blushing furiously at having been caught staring. He focused his attention on the stack he'd been given. He'd seen Wolfram grab the
towel and robe earlier. He had no idea where the clothing had come from. There was a pair of pants like the ones Wolfram was wearing, a short sleeved shirt,
and an indecent piece of black string that they liked to call underwear here. His blush doubled at the sight of that. He'd wondered what Wolfram would look
like in black even before he'd started to reevaluate his sexuality. But the image of Wolfram in this particular bit of black was new. He was suddenly glad he'd
spaced out and been unable to peek when Wolfram had started dressing. "Where did you get the clothes?" he asked, as he toweled himself off.

"In the washroom. That's where I left our clothes. I'll lend you something clean to wear when we get back to my room." He took their used towels into the
other room and returned with his sword and a pair of slippers for Yuuri. His fiance had enough trouble with cold feet without him contributing to it. "Why
weren't you wearing Morgif?"

Yuuri watched with amusement as Wolfram secured his sword, on the outside of the robe. It didn't look quite as ridiculous on Wolfram as it would have on him,
but it still seemed pretty silly. It wasn't that long of a walk back to the room. "Why would I be wearing Morgif?" Aside from that short game of catch with
Conrad, he'd spent the entire day sitting behind a desk.

Wolfram sniffed, ignoring the mocking look he was being given. "Because he had a hand in saving this world. And because he's been chained up, alone in
the dark, ever since you left." Although he hated the sword's fondness for the maids, he hadn't liked seeing it locked away down there. It had too much
personality to be treated like the other relics, just another former treasure that had outlived its usefulness. "Besides, with so many important guests coming,
you should maintain an appearance of readiness at all times."

"I don't think walking around with a sword strapped to the outside of my bathrobe is going to make me look more kingly," Yuuri said weakly. "I did get Morgif
out of the treasure room, though. He's been on the wall in my room since I got back. But I guess you wouldn't know that."

"No, but moving him from one wall to another isn't much of an improvement." He unlocked the outer door and stepped out into the hall. "A sword is no use to
anyone unless it's within reach."

"Fine," Yuuri sighed. "I'll start wearing him if it'll make you feel better." He waited until they were back in Wolfram's room before pushing. "Why are you
staying in this wing now?" If he could get Wolfram to admit he was avoiding him, then he could apologize again. And this time there wouldn't be any
misunderstanding about what he was apologizing for.

Spotting the tray of food Yuuri had mentioned earlier, Wolfram used that as an excuse to turn away. "I started taking my squad out more after you left. It's
more convenient to stay in the same wing than it is walking from one side of the castle to the other ever day." He chose not to mention that this had been his
room long before Yuuri's departure. It wasn't as if he'd lied that day Yuuri had set out to relocate him. This wing had been full at the time, with his men
doubling up to make room for the other soldiers. He'd given two of them permission to use his room until they could go back to their own. "Conrad shares a
wing with his soldiers. It isn't unusual for a squad leader to room close to his men."

And this arrangement put Wolfram closer to one of his men in particular, Yuuri thought moodily. It didn't matter that Wolfram denied having any feelings for
him, or that he was taken already. The fact remained that he was living a few doors down, possibly right next door, to the guy. And spending every day with
him, for all he knew. Meanwhile, Yuuri barely saw him at all. "I heard you were training to resist hoseki. Gisela said it's dangerous."

"Then she talks to much." Wolfram scowled at the idea of her gossiping to Yuuri behind his back, but he was glad to talk about something else. He took the
tray to the bed and waved for Yuuri to sit across from him. Despite his stomach feeling a little weak, he was still starving. One of the first things he'd learned
was not to eat before going out on one of these training sessions. It never stayed down. "It's no more dangerous than any training. In fact, we get more
serious injuries sparring with magic and swords than we ever would with hoseki. We're only training to resist the presence of an activated stone right now.
When we hit our limit, we stop for the day."

"How do you know when you've reached your limit?" asked Yuuri.

"When Lukas falls." He realized his mistake immediately, wincing at Yuuri's blank expression. After being in their constant company for so long it felt strange
to be talking to someone who knew nothing about them. He reminded himself that Yuuri didn't know any of Conrad or Gwendal's men by name, either. They
had all done their part to keep Yuuri away from battles, which meant away from the soldiers as well. Since he didn't know how many of them there were, he
wouldn't notice when some of them were lost. Soldiers didn't just die during wars. There were accidents during training, minor attacks and skirmishes on the
borders, and even the occasional bandits within the heart of their kingdom. None of that was serious enough to warrant the king's attention. But Yuuri wasn't
a typical king. Just knowing the statistics was likely to upset him. It would be much worse if he started making friends with the soldiers. There was no telling
how he would react when one of them died. It was up to the soldiers to protect the kingdom and they could hardly do that if Yuuri let his emotions push him to
protect the soldiers as well.

"I know how strong each member of my squad is," Wolfram said quickly. "The ones with the strongest magic are affected the hardest, so when they falter, I
know the training has gone on long enough." That was how it worked in theory, anyway. Pride remained a constant problem. If he had been on his own, he
would gladly train until he lost consciousness. When he could keep his feet the entire time and ride back to the castle without assistance, he knew he wasn't
really pushing his limits. With his squad he had to be more responsible. So he and Daniel kept an eye on Lukas. His magic was the next strongest and since
he'd never suffered sea sickness or been exposed to hoseki in human lands, he wasn't nearly as good at hiding the symptoms as Wolfram was. Unfortunately
he was just as eager to push himself as the rest of them were. The more resistance Lukas built, the harder it was to know when to stop the training. It
wouldn't be long before they'd have to start watching Daniel instead, or separating the squad so those who could handle more were in a position to do so
without endangering the others. He didn't want to be forced to rank them like that. The weakest members of the squad tried that much harder because they
were training right next to the strongest ones. Shifting them to the back ranks would demoralize them. "I know how bad it must have looked when we came in
earlier, but the training itself isn't really dangerous. It could be," he admitted, when Yuuri looked as if he would protest, "but it doesn't have to be. No one has
ever attempted this sort of training, so we're still working out the kinks."

Yuuri scowled, annoyed to have Wolfram glossing over it even more than Gisela had. Did they all think he was stupid? "When it makes you cough up blood,
I'd say it's pretty dangerous."

"All training is dangerous," Wolfram shot back. He struggled not to raise his voice. This was Yuuri he was talking to, not Gwendal. Yuuri wasn't questioning
his abilities, he was just concerned. Because that was what Yuuri did. He worried. "My squad specializes in magic. Every time we train in magic at least one
person comes close to using up his maryoku. You can die from using too much maryoku. We also train with swords, though not as much. All it takes is one
mistake during a spar and you have a deadly wound. If you compare the damage we get from overexposure to hoseki to the damage caused by
overextending ourselves during magic training or having an accident during sword training, then the hoseki is the safest thing we're working with. We just
stand there, Yuuri." He let out an exasperated breath. "That's all we do. The hoseki wielder activates his stones and we stand in a circle around him. As
soon as someone falls down, we leave. Yes, we do use maryoku to insulate against the effects, but the training never lasts long enough for us to use even
half the energy we'd use during magic duels. And, yes, there is physical exhaustion and some blood loss involved, but it's nothing compared to the injuries
we'd get from serious sword duels. It is the least inherently dangerous training we've done since I first got the squad." He needed Yuuri to believe him. If he
could get Yuuri to understand, then it wouldn't matter what Gwendal said to him about it. Yuuri didn't have Gwendal's biases. Yuuri had seen him fight and
had never once implied that he was useless or incapable.

"Can I see it?"

"See what?" He didn't like the way Yuuri was looking at him, so direct and serious. It reminded him of where they were, which he'd been pointedly not thinking
about.

"This training. Hoseki doesn't affect me. And if it's not dangerous, then you have nothing to hide. Right?"

Nervousness swept over him, making him wish he hadn't eaten anything. There were so many things wrong with the very idea. Even if Gunter found nothing
on Reinhild, he still wouldn't feel comfortable letting Yuuri near him. Not with himself and most of his squad too incapacitated to protect him. Florian alone
wasn't enough to guarantee his safety that far from the castle. He didn't want Yuuri to see him struggle. He wasn't self-conscious with his squad because no
matter how badly he felt, he still took it better than they did, and they were far too focused on their own struggles to watch him in his. With Yuuri there he
would be on display, as would his entire squad, and with that much pressure they'd undoubtedly push themselves harder than was safe. That would hardly
prove the training wasn't as dangerous as Yuuri thought it was. But more than any of that, he didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea. People would think
he'd forced Yuuri to come along, that he was still clinging to the engagement and dragging Yuuri around with him in order to keep an eye on him. "It wouldn't
be appropriate. I have nothing to hide," he said quickly, when Yuuri's eyes narrowed. "It just wouldn't be safe for you to accompany us. I only have one
person on my squad who isn't affected by hoseki. If anything happened while we're out there, we wouldn't be able to protect you properly."

"If one person is enough to protect you guys, then I don't see why-"

"You're the king," Wolfram snapped. "How many times do you have to be reminded of that? You know you can't leave the castle without a proper escort. No
one has anything to gain by attacking my squad. Even if someone were tempted, we'd still be able to defend ourselves against a minor attack. With you
along, the attack wouldn't be minor and we'd have no chance at all of deflecting it without someone dying." Those words caught him up better than any other
argument could have. Yuuri flinched, losing some of the sharpness his eyes had taken on. That soldiers died was a fact of life. But Yuuri was too idealistic to
comprehend that, and Wolfram wasn't afraid to use it to his advantage. He and his men would give their lives to protect Yuuri, but if he had a choice he
wouldn't intentionally risk either.

Yuuri hadn't wanted to mention Conrad, knowing how Wolfram would react to that. Unfortunately Wolfram wasn't leaving him much choice. He wouldn't stop
worrying until he'd seen this training for himself. He hadn't received any sort of training in healing, so he didn't know if he'd be of any use there. But if he was
there with them, he could at least try. He braced himself for the explosion and said, "I'll take Conrad with me, then." Sure enough, Wolfram stiffened so
suddenly the whole bed shook. He couldn't help wincing, though he refused to back down. "With him there, we won't have to worry about an attack. I'll even
go in disguise, if that will make you feel better about it."

He would die. Having Yuuri there would be humiliating and distracting. But Conrad was a thousand times worse because he wouldn't say anything, he'd just
watch with that insufferable smile of his. Wolfram could already see it, Conrad keeping Yuuri company as content as could be while he was busy straining not
to cough up a lung. Not only would the training itself go to hell, but all of his attempts to pretend he didn't care how close the two of them got would burst into
flames. Let them play ball and hang around the castle together. He wasn't there to see it, so it didn't matter. To have them follow him and do it out in the
field, right in front of him and his entire squad, was too much for his wounded pride to take. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He would not scream
at Yuuri. It would accomplish nothing and he'd feel worse later for having done it. He'd handled Gwendal, hadn't he? He wasn't about to lose control with
Yuuri, while sitting cross-legged on his bed in pajamas, no less. No, that would be ridiculous. He continued to hold his breath until his lungs burned and then
let it out as slowly as possible. At some point he would have to stop reacting to the mere mention of Conrad like this. He knew that. But knowing that and
achieving that were two very different things.

"We won't be training with hoseki for a while. We have to wait until Gunter finishes looking into our new hoseki user," said Wolfram. He was so proud of how
calm his voice sounded that he didn't pay any attention to the weird look Yuuri was giving him. "If he checks out and you're still interested, then we can
discuss the details later." Hopefully Yuuri would forget all about it by then or be too busy to slip away from the castle. If nothing else, he could always use
Gwendal as a last resort. As loudly as he objected to Wolfram training outside the city, he'd never allow Yuuri to accompany him. All he'd have to do was hint
that Yuuri was thinking about it and Gwendal and Gunter would load him down with so much paper work he'd never make it out of the castle, let alone out of
the gates.

With a lighter heart, Wolfram devoted himself to the food sitting between them. Yuuri had made some surprisingly good choices there. It was certainly more
satisfying than the field ration crackers he'd expected to snack on before bed. It took a little while before Yuuri joined him, but once he did the mood was
almost pleasant. He even found himself tempted to ask him about his day, what he'd done while he was away in his world, how he felt to be back here again.
That would have destroyed the mood, though, so he let the silence hold. He already had a good idea what Yuuri had been doing since his return, signing
documents, sending invitations, and spending time with Greta. He had checked in on her yesterday only to be informed that Yuuri was reading to her in his
room. He'd felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. She was the one aspect of the engagement that he had no shame in admitting he was going
to miss. When Yuuri left she had begun to call him Papa for the first time, a title formerly reserved only for Yuuri, and as much as he had enjoyed it he had
also felt guilty because it wasn't true. He had known that once they were forced to admit Yuuri was never returning, the engagement would be dissolved and
she would belong to no one. He lacked the authority to adopt her himself. Now she had her real papa back, but he was still facing the same end. With the
two of them spending as much time together as possible, it would be easier for him to fade into the background. He'd never had any real claim over her, so
the sooner he broke ties with her the better. He didn't want to feel he was abandoning her if he ended up leaving the castle altogether.

"Will Heathcrife be bringing Beatrice with him when he comes?" asked Wolfram. She needed more playmates her own age. It wasn't right that her only friend
was an infant she rarely saw.

Yuuri beamed, glad to have something safe to talk about. Wolfram's failure to react earlier, and the casual way he'd put him off, had made him too nervous to
break the silence himself. "I invited him to, but I haven't received a response yet. She said they've been exchanging letters. It never even occurred to me to
set the two of them up as penpals. Was that your idea?"

"Anissina's. She had a boy in one of her stories set letters adrift in bottles." He snorted. "It took forever to convince Greta that her bottle would never make it
all the way to Cavalcade. Gisela and Yosak helped her raise a carrier pigeon. You couldn't possibly find a filthier and more unsuitable pet for a princess.
Naturally she loves the thing."

"She is my daughter," Yuuri smirked.

"Indeed." She'd even named the dirty thing 'White' as if it were entirely appropriate to do so. While he appreciated that they had gotten her writing regularly
to her friend overseas, he did wish they could have left the pigeon to the handlers. She'd insisted on keeping it in her room for over a month and it had taken
a tearful maid to convince her it had gotten too big to clean up after. His nose wrinkled as he recalled the stench that had clung to her clothing.

"That reminds me," said Yuuri. "I think we should get a babysitter for Greta. A nursemaid, governess, someone whose only job is to take care of her when
we're both away from the castle. Kids need stability, you know? She should have someone who's always here, just for her."

"That would be good for her," Wolfram said slowly. He looked him over closely, seeing nothing but a smile at his apparent agreement. He frowned in
response. "Yuuri. Has Gunter talked to you about your coming of age ceremony?" Did Yuuri think the engagement was going to drag on for another year or
two before he could finally get out of it? There was no point getting Greta a woman to look after her when he could get her an actual mother in a few weeks.

"No, he hasn't mentioned it. Other than dropping off papers and telling me who to send invites to, we haven't talked much since I got back. Why?"

Wolfram just shook his head. If Yuuri didn't realize yet, then he wouldn't be the one to tell him. He'd find out soon enough. This explained why Yuuri had
been pushing him to talk about girls in the bath, though. It must have been a rude shock for him to come back after so long only to find out they were still
engaged. Yuuri probably expected him to start smothering him again, and that was why he'd sought him out instead, hoping to head him off. He could easily
have told him and put him out of his misery. Unfortunately for Yuuri, he was a little too bitter to do that. He wasn't going to enjoy the next few weeks, so he
saw no reason for Yuuri to, either.

"Wolf...?"

"You should look for someone older and more responsible than Anissina or mother," Wolfram stated. "Someone with experience at raising young ladies. Of
course she should be well-versed in the ways of the court. Greta is a princess in her own right, and as the king's daughter she should be taught by the very
best."

Yuuri winced, "I guess, but..."

"In fact, you might even consider hiring Elizabeth's former governess. She has all the qualifications and hasn't had much to do since her charge came of
age." The fact that she was dumpy and plain didn't hurt, either.

"If she was Elizabeth's governess, wouldn't she be a little old for the job?"

"We're talking about a governess, not a wife," Wolfram said icily. "As a full mazoku, she's more than young enough to teach Greta's grandchildren, should she
choose to keep her on. But if you're more interested in hiring someone based off looks and youth, then I'll thank you not to involve me in it." He shoved off
the bed, leaving Yuuri to catch the tray before it could spill. It would be just his luck if Yuuri fell for his daughter's governess. At this rate his reputation would
never recover. Having been engaged for so long was bad enough without everyone knowing he'd been dumped for the babysitter. He let out a disgusted
growl, slamming his closet door open with more force than necessary. He shouldn't have even gotten into this discussion.

"I didn't mean it like that!" Yuuri cried. He hurriedly set the tray on the nightstand. He crossed the room to find Wolfram digging noisily through his closet. At
least he hadn't shut himself in it this time. "Honestly, Wolfram. It's not like that at all. I just want us to find someone Greta will like spending time with. If she's
too strict or old, then Greta would see it as a punishment. She doesn't deserve that." He didn't want her to turn out like Elizabeth. Sure, Elizabeth was
beautiful and refined, but she was also rigid and cool. He wanted Greta to stay warm and friendly, even if that meant she wasn't as proper a princess as
Wolfram thought appropriate.

"If you say so," Wolfram muttered, not bothering to look back. He dropped his arms to his sides with a quiet huff. "I don't have anything dark to loan you.
You'll have to borrow one of my uniforms." He almost cringed. What would the guards think when they saw Yuuri dressed in his colors? And after he'd gone
to so much trouble to make sure they'd never stood watch over Yuuri's room.

"You want to get dressed now? But it's already late enough to turn in."

"I am not escorting you back to your room in pajamas and a bathrobe. At least try to remember where you are. This is the soldiers' wing, not the royal
chambers."

Yuuri bristled at the patronizing tone. "Who said I need an escort? Or that I'm going back to my room at all? Maybe I'll just stay here tonight."

"You can't!" Wolfram blurted.

Yuuri raised an eyebrow, not caring that Wolfram looked more panicky than angry. "I can't...? I thought you said I was the only one who had a right to come in
here."

This was revenge, Wolfram realized with a jolt. He honestly hadn't thought Yuuri capable of it, but there was no mistaking the challenge in his eyes. Feeling
an angry blush break out on his face, he drew himself up. "The bed isn't big enough for two people."

"It looks big enough to me," Yuuri remarked, turning to hide his smirk. He hadn't intended to risk something like this, but Wolfram's reaction made it an
irresistible temptation. "I'll sleep by the wall. That way if one of us gets kicked out of bed, it'll be you."

"I hope I kick you to death," Wolfram hissed, only to blush harder when Yuuri laughed. This couldn't be happening. It had taken him so long to get used to
sleeping alone, to appreciate and look forward to it. What if he started feeling as if the engagement was real again? As long as he kept his distance it was
just a formality, a front, upholding appearances in public. If he backslid now he would be devastated later. He couldn't go through that again. Yuuri tossed
his robe over the back of the chair and climbed onto the bed. Wolfram's fingers twitched and he had a sudden urge to run from the room. "Yuuri..."

"Come on, Wolf. I'm too tired to fight with you, and you look exhausted." Yuuri slipped under the covers and sighed as the scent immediately enveloped him.
He buried his face in one of the pillows. "You invaded my bed way too many times to whine just because I'm borrowing yours."

"Who's whining!" Wolfram snapped.

"Turn off the light and come to bed, Dear," Yuuri called, in a tone he'd heard his father use so many times it came out sounding far too natural. He smothered
a laugh in the pillow at the strangled noise Wolfram let out. He shouldn't enjoy this so much. And he really should have been concerned about sharing a bed
with Wolfram after the dreams he'd had. But the bed was different, the mood was playful, and there no girly frills in sight, so he figured it was safe enough.

Wolfram grudgingly set his sword to the side of his bed and turned off the lamp. Yuuri flashed him a smirk when he lifted the covers, and he gave him a
contemptuous sniff in return. "You have a sick sense of humor."

Yuuri just smiled, snuggling more comfortably into the pillow. "Whatever you say, Dear."

"Sick," Wolfram insisted, putting his back to his twisted excuse for a king. His was the last word spoken that night.

.-.

Wolfram woke a few hours before dawn to find his right hand glowing. It took a while for his dazed mind to comprehend that it wasn't his hand that was
glowing, but rather the pale blue pendant his hand was curled around. Yuuri's pendant, formerly Conrad's pendant, originally Julia's pendant. The pendant
which, if he recalled correctly, Yuuri had been wearing on the inside of his shirt when he'd gotten into the bed. Wolfram had never gotten out of bed so fast. A
split second later found him crouched on the floor, peeking up over the edge of the bed. Yuuri grumbled but showed no signs of waking. Wolfram slumped
over with relief, his heart racing as his sleep fogged mind sought to catch up.

What the hell had he been doing in his sleep? Digging around in Yuuri's clothes? And for him to grab that blasted pendant of all things. If he had to go
grabbing anything it should have been Yuuri's hair or maybe his neck. He could easily imagine doing that in his sleep. That pendant was nothing to him.
That was Conrad's bond to both Yuuri and Julia, his tie to the past and vow for the future. He wanted to set fire to his hand for even touching it. He'd never
seen her in Yuuri and he had looked for it, after learning whose soul Yuuri possessed, yet another aspect of Shinou's meddling in their lives. They were both
sweet willing martyrs when necessary but that was where the similarities ended as far as he was concerned. He'd liked her, because everyone had, but he'd
never seen anything in her. She'd always seemed muted, distant, floating through life rather than living it. Yuuri, on the other hand, was bursting with life,
riddled with flaws, and eternally frustrating since he was both the weakest and strongest person around. With just one of his ridiculous foot-stomping
tantrums, Yuuri displayed more personality than Wolfram had ever seen in Julia. He understood why Conrad had idolized her, of course. She had been
perfect. But that was precisely why he had never connected to her himself. Perfect was boring. He would always choose flawed, frustrating, and amusing
over peaceful perfection.

He leaned back against the bed, his sword resting on his folded legs. He'd been dreaming again. He hadn't gotten a good night's rest since Yuuri's return,
so he didn't know why he had expected tonight to be any different. The dreams always woke him up, leaving him restless, anxious and guilty. This one was no
different. He'd been in a hurry to get somewhere, but he hadn't been able to find his horse. Everything in the stable had been wrong, mixed around on him,
and when he'd gone outside he'd realized he wasn't even at the castle. He'd had no idea where he was. How was he supposed to get there in time if he didn't
even know where he was? The dream itself had been stupid, of course. They always were. He'd had similar dreams as a child, usually when he had failed to
do something. This time, he honestly didn't know what the guilt was about. It obviously had something to do with Yuuri and the engagement, but he couldn't
tell if it was guilt over the way he'd behaved in the past or how poorly he was handling it now. Either way, he didn't know what he was supposed to do to put
his conscience at ease. Be nicer to Yuuri? He humphed quietly. He was already being nicer to him than he had during the entire engagement. The only way
he could possibly bother him any less was to leave the castle, and then he'd probably start having anxiety dreams for leaving Gwendal in the lurch right when
he needed him around to put up a good front for their guests.

Yuuri grumbled, rolling onto his back and flinging an arm out so his wrist smacked against the wall. From the way his face wrinkled, it must have smarted.
Wolfram smirked at the sight. At least he wasn't the only restless sleeper this time. He sighed, watching Yuuri's face relax as he fell deeper asleep. He really
didn't understand what it was about him that attracted so many suitors. Yuuri was just as pretty as him, yet everyone wanted him, young and old, male and
female alike. He might have dismissed some of it as his coloring, being a double-black, but he'd never seen anyone fawn over Murata at first sight. Although,
in his case, he had glasses obscuring his eyes so they looked more like a dark brown than true black. Shori's eyes were black despite his glasses, yet only
his mother had been interested in him. Because he was older? The first time he'd seen Yuuri, he had pegged him as a wimp, clueless and easily pushed
around. Maybe that was what everyone found so attractive about him, the vulnerability. Wolfram couldn't relate to that. If Yuuri had just been a wimp, he
wouldn't have wanted anything to do with him.

That was the problem. He might wish things had been different, that they could have simply been friends the way Yuuri was with everyone else, but he knew
himself too well. If they hadn't gotten engaged he would never have given Yuuri a chance to prove he was more than the wimpy human he'd appeared to be.
He certainly wouldn't have stolen away on boats in order to keep him company if he had just been the king and not his fiance. Without those trips he would
never have seen past Yuuri's flaws. He probably wouldn't have had much contact with him at all until it came time for Shinou to extract the key from him.
Knowing that, he couldn't entirely regret his choice to make their engagement as real as a one-sided engagement could be. Even if he'd never known him as
well as he'd thought he had, Yuuri was the closest thing to a friend he'd had since his childhood. From the very start, Yuuri had treated him as an equal, even
though they hadn't been at all. He couldn't fill that void with his men, not even Lukas and Daniel. They might have been equals as children, training at the
same level, caring nothing about the roles they'd been born into, but they were his subordinates now.

With a sigh, he rose and leaned over the bed, pulling the covers up to Yuuri's shoulders. Having Yuuri here, sleeping in his bed, where he should never in a
million years have ended up, made him miss the wimp more than he had when he'd thought Yuuri would never return.

He went over to his closet. Since he was awake, anyway, he might as well fetch something from Yuuri's room for him to wear when he woke up. It would have
been bad for Yuuri to walk around in one of his uniforms at night. He didn't want to imagine the sordid tales the maids would start if they spotted him doing it in
the daytime. He sighed at himself. So much for not going in there unless it was a matter of life or death.

He'd just started to untie his robe when he heard something bump against the door. He was across the room in a heartbeat, pausing only long enough to
snatch his sword off the floor. What was wrong with him? He hadn't even bolted the door last night. With the training, and Gwendal, and Yuuri showing up out
of nowhere and then commandeering his bed, he'd been too frazzled to think of anything but sleep. And he slept so heavily he wouldn't have even heard the
door opening.

He held his breath, listening closely. After a while he could just make out the light steps of the guards at the end of the hall. They often walked off the last few
hours of their shift, when sleep was most likely to sneak up on them. With one more glance at Yuuri, he slipped out of the room. And he nearly tripped over a
long bundle sitting right outside his door. He had to wave his arms to catch his balance. He shut his door, scowled at the cloth wrapped thing, and then
dismissed it. He was more interested in who had left the package than he was in its contents. The guards snapped to attention when he reached them. If
they had witnessed the clumsy way he'd exited his room, they gave no sign of it.

"Did anyone come through here?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. Two of the maids went by a little while ago with the laundry cart."

He nodded sharply and turned away, stalking back to his room. The maids. He should have known. Those infuriating busybodies had been sticking their
noses in his business since the start of the engagement. He'd even caught them running a betting pool at one point, on who would steal Yuuri away from him.
Even Anissina's name had been on it. It had taken every ounce of restraint he had not to set their skirts on fire and watch it eat its way up to their giggling
faces.

He crouched by the bundle. It was wrapped in brown cloth, long on both ends, thick in the middle. The moment he touched the thin edge, a muffled groan
sounded from under the cloth. His breath caught in his throat and he could almost feel his heart skip. They couldn't have. Even if the maids had dared to
attempt it, they couldn't possibly have done this. His eyes flashed at the guards, who gave no sign of having heard anything, and then he grabbed the
package and ducked back into his room. This time he made sure to bolt the door behind him.

In his haste to unwrap the bundle, he jostled it around, causing Morgif to groan and moan under the cloth. He ignored the noise. Once the cloth was loose
enough, he let the sword roll free onto his desk. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw what had been sitting in the middle of that bundle. It was one of
Yuuri's uniforms. Now it wasn't just a question of who, but how. The timing was frightening. Even if someone had managed to smuggle Morgif out of Yuuri's
room, past the guards, and all the way through the castle without him howling loudly enough to wake the dead, the odds of them leaving the uniform at the
same moment he'd been about to fetch one were impossible. His hand clenched tightly around the hilt of his sword, his breaths coming in short bursts. It
wasn't a coincidence. It couldn't be. He darted to the window, peeking behind the curtain at the dark courtyard. He could see the guards stationed across the
way. There wasn't enough light in the room for someone outside to have seen his silhouette past the curtains.

He closed his eyes. This was paranoia. He knew that. No one was out there, no one but the guards had been out there all night. What reason would anyone
have to spy on him from outside when his door had been unlocked? And the timing could very well have been a mere coincidence. The maids had collected
the dirty clothes from the bath. They would have recognized Yuuri's uniform instantly and known, in that way they had, exactly where he'd gone to bed. It
didn't take much to assume that Yuuri wouldn't have brought a change of clothing with him. And the maids were not the only ones who slipped in and out of
this wing at will. There was a much bigger meddler afoot, one who could easily have seduced Morgif into being carried quietly with just a flash of her
cleavage. The maids had told her, she'd gotten the clothes and the sword, and then the maids had left it outside his door on their way down the hall. It made
perfect sense. Yet he didn't believe it for a second. This wasn't her style. She would love to have Yuuri forced into one of his uniforms. She would be
absolutely giddy at the idea of him having to swallow his pride and go into Yuuri's room to get clothes for him. She would never have gone to such lengths to
make this easier for him.

"Wolfram...?"

He whirled, drawing his sword halfway free before he realized it was just Yuuri. Noisy Morgif had woken him up. He took a shaky breath and sheathed his
sword. He didn't want to be here, in this room, in this castle. Everyone here was so busy meddling, manipulating him with so many strings, and now they were
sneaking around behind his back so he couldn't even trust the guards. For all he knew they had stood there and lied to him.

"Are you okay?" asked Yuuri.

"No," Wolfram muttered. "A stupid dream woke me up." He waved at the desk when Yuuri came over to him. "And someone left this outside the door for you.
It was probably Mother."

"I thought she couldn't touch him without getting bitten." Yuuri picked up his sword, frowning at the grumbling face. Morgif's noise was already settling into
snores, but they were a little too loud to be real. That was what Yuuri liked to call his 'who, me?' ploy. He gave him a little shake. "Did you let Cecilie bring
you all the way over here?"

Wolfram rolled his eyes at the nonsensical noises coming out of Morgif's mouth. He usually found it cute when Yuuri tried to talk to his sword as if they could
actually hold a conversation together. Right now he wasn't in the mood. "As long as she carried him by the sheath or the belt, she could do it as easily as
Gunter did. Only the Maou can wield him, but anyone can pick him up as long as they don't touch near the hilt. Anyway, whoever it was left those clothes for
you, too. I'm going back to sleep."

"We'll talk about this later," Yuuri warned Morgif, setting him down on the stack of clothes. He hurried back to the bed so he could get in first. He hadn't been
kicked a single time so far, that he knew of, and he wanted to keep it that way. It wasn't until Wolfram slipped in after him that he realized kicking wasn't the
only thing he had to worry about. He propped himself up on his elbow, looking at him worriedly. "Um, Wolfram? Since when do you sleep with your sword?"

With a groan, Wolfram opened his eyes. It would have only taken a few more seconds for him to fall asleep. He looked down to see what Yuuri was talking
about and blinked slowly. He had forgotten to prop his sword against the bed and had, instead, taken it under the covers with him. This wasn't quite as bad
as falling asleep with one of Gwendal's stuffed animals in his arms, but it was fairly close. Really, he had no idea what was going on in his head any more.
"Since now, I guess," he sighed. "Don't worry, I promise not to kill you in my sleep." He was too comfortable to move, and with his hands occupied at least he
wouldn't have to worry about grabbing things if he had another of those dreams. "After all," he murmured, "if I killed you I'd want to be awake to enjoy it..."

Yuuri gulped, staring down at the hilt peeking out of the covers. Wolfram was completely asleep by the time he finished saying that, his voice having droned
off so quietly Yuuri couldn't tell if he'd been joking or not. He was pretty sure it was a joke. Still, even if Wolfram didn't draw it in his sleep, that sword had a lot
of hard edges to it. He really didn't fancy getting whacked with the thing. He waited a few minutes, just to make sure Wolfram was completely out of it. Then
he pinched the tip of the hilt between his fingers and tugged. It was like prodding a pillbug's belly. Wolfram curled inward and the sword completely
disappeared under the blanket. Yuuri's eye twitched. He hadn't counted on that.

Telling himself he was only acting in the name of self-preservation, he moved closer to Wolfram's back and wrapped an arm around him. There wasn't much
room between the top of that sword and Wolfram's chest, but with a little maneuvering he had his arm resting in the crook of his elbows. He didn't think for a
second that he'd be able to hold him still if Wolfram was determined to flail around, but he'd definitely feel it if he lifted his arms, and that sword along with
them. Hopefully it would be enough warning for him to wake up and get out of the way.

After a few minutes with his nose buried in Wolfram's hair and that warm chest moving under his arm, he gave up trying to justify his actions. He'd save that
justification for Wolfram in the morning, if he had to. He didn't need to use it on himself. The sword just provided an excuse for him to make one of his 'when I
finally get back there' imaginings a reality. This was just as easy and natural as he'd thought it would be. They'd hugged before, held and supported one
another when they were injured. So it was pretty pointless for him to roll all over the place trying to avoid contact in bed. He'd often been forced right off the
bed, but only because he had moved away each time Wolfram moved closer. If he had held still, he would have had Wolfram sleeping right up against him
every night. Maybe he could forget the excuses altogether and just point out that they didn't need to fight for the bed in their sleep if they were sharing it to
begin with. He wasn't going to move away anymore. If they were still like this when Wolfram woke up, he'd tell him just that.

A few hours later, Yuuri was prodded out of a strange dream by something scratching at the door. He didn't want to wake up. Yosak and that dark-haired guy
from the bath were in wedding dresses and fighting over the bouquet, with way too many grooms waiting at the end of the aisle. One of them was Wolfram,
looking positively evil in a black tux. He'd almost conned him into stepping down and leaving the would-be brides to the other guys when a sheep ran out from
under Yosak's skirts and started scratching at the door of the church. That sent Wolfram running back to yell at Conrad about how anyone who would sneak
a sheep to a wedding didn't deserve to get married. Yuuri was just about to go Maou on the lot of them and drag Wolfram out of there by force when he
blinked himself awake. Yet the scratching continued.

He closed his eyes, praying there wasn't actually a sheep in the room. Or Yosak in that wedding dress because pink polka dots definitely didn't suit him. He
lifted his head warily and found the room empty. The scratching was coming from the other side of the door. The sheep wanted in, not out. He dropped his
head back on the pillow, determined to let the thing rot out there. Sheep didn't have claws, so it shouldn't be scratching on doors in the first place. Wolfram
groaned, squeezing his arm. That woke him up better than a whole herd of sheep. His head popped back up and a blush broke out on his face. Wolfram was
cuddling his arm, his sword having been pushed over to the edge of the bed. He had few embarrassed seconds to enjoy it before the scratching started
again. This time Wolfram shoved his arm away and flopped over onto his stomach, knocking the sword off the bed with a loud clatter.

"Shut up," Wolfram groaned, burying his face in the pillow. "That's not even my horse."

A muffled snicker sounded from the hall. Then someone rapped hard on the door.

Wolfram shot upright and flung his pillow across the room in one fluid motion, "I'm awake, already!" He moved sluggishly toward the edge of the bed,
grumbling the entire way. "Wake the entire castle...bedrest, my ass...kill for a single day in bed...sun's barely up and I'm-" He stood up and promptly
disappeared with a clatter and a thump.

"Wolfram!" Yuuri yelped. He hurried to the edge of the bed and was relieved when he found dazed green eyes staring back up at him. He'd forgotten just how
groggy Wolfram could be when he first woke up. "Are you okay...?"

"Yuuri...?" Wolfram stared at him, blinking slowly. Then his eyes dropped to the bed Yuuri was sitting on and his face caught fire. He hid it in his hands. How
could he have forgotten? Yuuri in his bed, tripping over his own sword, yes, this was going to be a wonderful day. "Not one word," he muttered. "Please."

Yuuri had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. He'd never seen Wolfram's face so red. He got up and sidestepped his downed fiance, not making the mistake
of offering to help him. By the time Wolfram passed him to dig in the closet, Yuuri had wiped most of the smile off his face. The corners of his mouth
continued to twitch, though. Morgif greeted him with a croon, his mouth twisted in a way that told him he'd seen the whole thing and found it just as funny as
he had. Yuuri's favorite part was the automatic pillow-flinging. It made him wonder if Wolfram's men always woke him up that way. And then suddenly he no
longer had to fight to keep the smile off his face. Wolfram had been staying here so long that he'd developed a routine. What if he preferred that routine?
That wake up call had been odd, but it was definitely better than having Gunter walk right in to con and scold him out of bed. In fact, if Wolfram insisted, his
men probably wouldn't wake him up at all. Even Yuuri didn't get that sort of freedom in his room and he was the king. There wasn't even a bolt for his door,
and absolutely no sense of privacy. People walked in and out any time they felt like it. They didn't even knock half the time

"What's wrong with you?" Wolfram scowled, passing him to retrieve his sword.

"Huh?" Yuuri wondered what sort of face he'd been making for Wolfram to sound so cross. Or maybe Wolfram was just cross because he was awake and
didn't want to be. "I was just thinking. About a lot of things." He shook his head and grabbed the uniform out from under Morgif, leaning him against the desk
instead. Despite his sleepiness, Wolfram had somehow already dressed. He hurried to catch up with him. "Have you been eating breakfast with your squad?"

"Sometimes. We didn't yesterday. There's no point eating before a hoseki drill," Wolfram grumbled, his nose wrinkling. "It just makes things messier."

Yuuri hopped to the side so Wolfram could get at the mirror. "You're not having one of those today, right? Will you eat with the rest of us this morning?"

"If you want me to." Wolfram ran a hand through his hair and winced at his appearance. If he didn't get a good night's sleep soon, he was going to develop
dark bags under his eyes. "It won't be pleasant if I'm there, though," he warned. "Don't let yourself get dragged into anything that comes up, especially if it
involves Gwendal and Gunter. You have to spend a lot more time with them than I do."

"Why are they so upset about your training?" asked Yuuri. "If it's not that dangerous, then-"

"It's not just about the training. They're upset with me, in general." He stared at his reflection and gave a dark smile. He'd been smiling like that a lot lately,
but it was still unnerving to see it on his own face. He hoped it had a similar effect on Gwendal. "I'm just not living up to their expectations."

"In what way?" Yuuri frowned. He glanced up and nearly had a heart attack. "Wolfram!" He grabbed Wolfram's arm, turning him to face him. The expression
vanished, replaced by confusion and a touch of irritation.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Yuuri's eyes narrowed. "That was Shinou's face. Soushuu's version of his face."

"Oh!" Wolfram snorted, shaking his head. "Relax, wimp. I'm not turning evil on you. I saw that smile on your face, too, when he possessed you. It was very
disturbing." He gave the smile again. "It suits me much better."

"It does not!"

"Of course it does. I already look like him. The resemblance is only going to increase as I get older."

"Maybe so, but I don't think that look suited him, either. I definitely don't like it on you." Yuuri didn't want to admit how much seeing that had scared him. With
that one smile, Wolfram's entire demeanor darkened into something cunning and cold. He'd rather have him training with a whole room full of hoseki than
imagine him in here, by himself, practicing that smile. "It's not you, Wolf. It doesn't suit you at all."

As if Yuuri knew that much about him. Wolfram sighed, folding his arms over his chest. "Why are you getting so worked up over this? It's just a facial
expression. You should see some of the ones you wear when you're performing 'justice' on people. As far as intimidating looks go, there's no competing with
yours. Mine just has the added benefit of reminding certain people that they don't know me at all. Greta told me I actually ate with all of you, as natural as can
be, and explained that I'd risked your brother's life because he wanted the power to protect you. And Gwendal not only believed it, he didn't even try to punish
me for it. I have never gotten off that easily with him. But Shinou did. And it wasn't the things he said, it was the way he said them. He accomplished more
with one smile than I ever could with years of pleading and arguing and screaming."

He stopped, watching the blood drain out of Yuuri's face. This time the smile tried to come naturally. He kept it at bay. Shinou, or Soushuu, whoever had
been in command, had fooled his entire family for days, possibly longer. If his own family didn't know him from an imposter, then Yuuri had never stood a
chance. "Sorry. You said you had talked to Shori about it, so I thought you knew. I have no memory of saying anything to your brother, so I couldn't have
explained my actions that night even if I'd wanted to. That was him, too."

He ran a hand over Yuuri's bowed head, mussing his hair, and then handed him the brush. "I told you not to blame yourself, wimp. He used you even more
than he did me. Your entire life was all part of his plan. Remember what he did to Conrad, letting us believe he was dead and then setting him against us,
when we could just as easily have gotten the boxes without all of the suffering if he had simply told us what he needed us to do and why. Mother's faced with
the fact that all three of her marriages were part of his scheme, just so each of her children would have the proper bloodline to be keys, all waiting here
together for your arrival. For as long as I can remember she's been searching for 'love' and now I finally know why. All of her marriages fell apart because if
even one of them had lasted, Shinou would have had more trouble getting his keys all in one place. He used and manipulated everyone in this kingdom from
the moment he died until the moment you freed him. I blame him for that. But you put the blame entirely on Soushuu and forgave Shinou all of his
machinations. You can't blame yourself after absolving him."

"He created Shin Makoku," Yuuri whispered. "He became infected by Soushuu because he fought to save this world. The boxes had to be gathered or else
Soushuu would have eventually gotten free to destroy everything. He sacrificed his body and devoted his soul to making sure Soushuu was finally destroyed
once and for all..."

"I know all of that. But he had a choice to tell us or to use us. Every one of us would have willingly done what was necessary to save this kingdom had he told
us. He chose not to. There's honor in being a willing martyr, Yuuri. There's only shame in being a puppet." He sighed, dropping his eyes. "I'm sorry I said
anything. I should never have brought any of this up." He couldn't talk to anyone about it. Even his brothers continued to be as devoted to Shinou's memory
as they had been to his spirit. He was the only one who resented being used and he'd known better than to admit it. And to say it to Yuuri, the one who'd
risked his life to free him... "I'm sorry, Yuuri."

"You think I should have destroyed him..."

"No!" Wolfram said sharply. He grabbed Yuuri's shoulders, forcing him to meet his eyes. "I agree that he deserved to be free. No matter what personal
resentments I have, he created and nurtured this country and none of us would exist without him. He deserved to be free and I'm glad you were able to do it.
You are the best Maou Shin Makoku has ever had and we wouldn't have you if it weren't for him." That bold admission brought a blush to his face, and he
winced, smiling weakly. "I can't forgive his methods, but I will never deny all the things he's done for us."

Yuuri swallowed roughly. Half the time he was convinced he was a lousy king. But when people like Wolfram and Conrad said otherwise, he couldn't help
wanting to prove them right. If only he knew how to do that. "Then you don't hate him?"

"Hate is too strong a word," Wolfram stated airily. He dipped a rag in the little bowl before the mirror and washed off his eyes. "I have no idea what will happen
to this country without him around. Our generation will manage, of that I'm certain. Future generations will be on their own, though. People fought enough
over the kings he picked. If it's up to them to choose the next one, Shin Makoku could tear itself apart. It will be up to our children," and he smirked at Yuuri's
wide eyes, "to see to it that never happens."

"Children?" Yuuri squeaked. He had a sudden memory of Wolfram holding a baby, murmuring that he was practicing for the future. Surely even pure-blooded
demons weren't that different from humans. Wolfram had been referring to Greta's children, right? Right...? He opened his mouth, but only a wispy whine
came out. It was just as well. He wasn't ready to hear an answer to the question trying to work its way out of his throat.

As amusing as Yuuri's reaction was, Wolfram couldn't fully enjoy it. Even during the engagement, raising a baby had been a fanciful notion at best. He
couldn't imagine himself ever marrying now and he'd sooner die than let a child of his blood be given the title of bastard. If he ever reached the point in his life
where he wanted to start a family of his own, he'd simply foster a child the way Yuuri had. He didn't have the status to adopt a runaway human princess, but
there were always a few mazoku children orphaned from one tragedy or another. Some of his own men had lost their parents in the war and been raised by
others. He might even be in a position to adopt one of their children someday, assuming he outlived them. Now that was a fanciful notion.

With a wistful smile, he prodded Yuuri toward the mirror. "Just comb your hair, wimp. We'll be late for breakfast."

.-.

PART 4

.-.

FEEDBACK

FANFICTION INDEX