“Put your back into it, Yuuri.”
Yuuri blushed and any strength his double-handed swing might have had fizzled out. He winced back a step when Wolfram knocked his blade aside as if it
were a fly. “Don’t say things like that,” he complained. “It sounds so wrong.”
“How is telling you to use your strength wrong? You aren’t that weak. I’ve seen how you use those sticks-“
“Baseball bats?” Yuuri frowned, as he made another half-hearted swipe.
“And I know you can throw hard,” Wolfram continued. He shoved Yuuri’s sword back with growing annoyance. “You’re the one who wanted to spar with me.”
Yuuri made a low swing, quick with Morgif’s eagerness and light with his own reluctance. This had been a mistake. A big stupid mistake. “I didn’t know I’d be
attacking you. I thought you’d be the one attacking me. You always attack me.” And he defended…poorly.
“That wasn’t sparring,” Wolfram scoffed. “If Conrad had ever done his duty by you, you would know the difference. I attacked you to teach you defense.” He
countered with a sharp strike of his own. At least Yuuri used his weight when it came to blocking. “I also did it to punish you. Blades are good for that, which
you would know if he had taught you anything.” His eyes narrowed when Yuuri attacked with a bit more intent. Yuuri shouldn’t react to complaints against
Conrad that way. “Sparring serves three purposes. Honing your skills, defeating your opponent, and venting. You’re supposed to be venting, Yuuri, so put
your back into it and attack me seriously.”
“I don’t want to vent on you. I’m not angry with you,” Yuuri bit out. He was frustrated with him, but this definitely wasn’t the way he wanted to attack him. His face
heated up again. Hopefully Wolfram would blame it on exertion. He might not be swinging his sword very hard, but he was moving fast. Morgif was eager and
excited, and kept pulling him to aim at unguarded parts of Wolfram that made Yuuri very nervous. If one of those strikes got through it would do serious
damage even without his weight behind it. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
“Nonsense. Think about the last time you were angry. Tell me something that made you angry today.”
Yuuri braced himself against a swift attack. He definitely preferred being on the defense. Between Morgif’s coaching and Wolfram’s holding back all he had to
do was stand firm and hang on. “After I left you in your room, I wanted one of your men to guard the hall. Lukas took one look at me and shut the door in my
face.”
“He did?” Wolfram was so startled he got knocked back a step before he could counter. Morgif was putting his all into this even if Yuuri wasn’t. Wolfram
smirked at Yuuri’s annoyed expression. “You must have knocked at a bad time. I apologize for his rudeness, but they did have the day off. Since he’s a
member of my squad, feel free to direct whatever anger you feel towards him at me.”
“I was only angry for a minute,” Yuuri growled. The anger was quick to return, though. “It wasn’t even the fact that he shut the door on me. It’s the fact that it
was him, and you had a crush on him.”
“Years ago,” Wolfram reminded him. He didn’t take offense this time. Yuuri was hitting a lot harder now, with a hint of maryoku behind the strength. “I doubt he
even noticed at the time, so I’d rather you not mention it to him. He’d tease me about it.”
“And you’d let him?”
Yuuri’s maryoku definitely had a way of enhancing his physical strength. Wolfram hadn’t engaged in many spars during his own coming of age flare ups, so he
wasn’t sure if that was normal or not. He would have to experiment with that himself sometime. For now he did his part to egg Yuuri on. The minor hurt he felt
that Yuuri still questioned his faithfulness was more than enough to meet and counter his blade. “For your information, I demand complete respect on the field
and in public,” he informed him. “How my men treat me in private is between me and them. Teasing is annoying but harmless.” He made a heavy attack of his
own and was both surprised and pleased by how quickly Yuuri countered. Maybe swordsmanship was another of those inherent talents Yuuri had access to
when he was angry. “If one of them goes too far,” Wolfram said scathingly, “I don’t hesitate to let him know.”
“Just how far is too far?” Yuuri demanded. He didn’t want to imagine Lukas teasing Wolfram. He didn’t want to imagine any of those guys playing with Wolfram.
Yet he could imagine it. Vividly. “An elbow to the ribs? Messing up your hair? Dunking you in the bath?” And that was the worst because he now knew Wolfram
had been sharing a bath with all of them the entire time he was gone. “Have they all seen you naked?!”
Wolfram froze. He barely felt his sword being knocked out of his loose grip. Yuuri was blazing, the back of his hair ruffling along the collar of his uniform, and
Wolfram wondered if he had been foolish to feel so confident he had nothing to fear from Yuuri’s ‘maou’ side. That part of Yuuri enjoyed doling out judgments
and punishments, only instead of using a sword he used humiliation. Wolfram felt his own maryoku coil, threatening to erupt as badly as Yuuri’s currently was.
He kept it firmly under wraps. One of them had to remain rational here.
“Yuuri,” Wolfram said quietly, “it might surprise you, but I have been alert to predators for a very long time. If any of my men had seen me naked he would no
longer be one of my men. They have all seen me with my shirt off, filthy if not bloody, bathing in a stream or lake or even a bucket. Lukas and Daniel have
seen me with just a towel, along with everyone else in our class at the academy. None of my men has ever looked at me any more than was necessary to
clean or bandage an injury. They aren’t interested in me that way. No one in this castle is.” His lips curved into a wry smile as he turned away to retrieve his
sword. “Aside from you.”
“How is that possible?” Yuuri demanded. He felt outraged and heady and confused, and when Wolfram suddenly attacked him with his blade he welcomed it
because at least that made sense.
Wolfram let his maryoku go, just to buffer the oppressive feel of Yuuri’s wild energy. And this was still Yuuri, despite the slightly longer hair and the fact that he
wielded Morgif with just one hand. He might be wary of the maou, but he wasn’t the least bit afraid of Yuuri. As a matter of fact, he was rather annoyed with
Yuuri. “Do you really want to know?” he asked sharply, torn between frustration and amusement. Who held conversations while fighting? “I blame Mother for
most of it. Next to her I look almost normal. Then there’s Brother. He has the soldiers so eager to shelter me that they’ll never view me as anything but a child.
The only ones who have ever been interested in me are old men my mother’s age, usually because she turned them down or because they think I’d be easier
prey. It’s disgusting.”
And infuriating, Yuuri agreed. His blood boiled at the thought of old men lusting after Wolfram. Or maybe that was his maryoku. The air was hazy around them
and he found himself meeting and returning Wolfram’s blade as if he actually knew what he was doing. Wolfram was flushed and bright-eyed, and it suddenly
occurred to him that Wolfram might need to vent as badly as he did. It was wrong to vent on Wolfram when Wolfram was the only person not making him angry
these days. But if Wolfram was just as frustrated then maybe they could vent on each other. It might even be satisfying to vent on each other.
“I don’t understand this world,” Yuuri admitted, in a frustrated growl. “Just when I think I finally get it, something knocks me over and I feel stupid again.
Everyone said it was normal for two guys to be together here, but I never saw any of it until I opened that door in the bath on your former crush.”
“Emphasis on former,” Wolfram snapped. Yuuri had a serious grudge about that. He was really starting to wish he hadn’t mentioned it.
“You’re an outright bishounen-
“What?”
“-yet the only guys I’ve ever seen react to you are-“ Old men, Yuuri realized, with a choking dose of outrage. Just a bunch of sick old men in a hospital. “What
is wrong with the guys in this world? You should be surrounded by fanboys. And girls! You don’t even have fangirls!”
“Yuuri,” Wolfram huffed in exasperation. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about you. And gays!”
“What?”
“Where are they?” Yuuri demanded. His voice sounded a little hysterical to his own ears but he really needed to know because it didn’t make any sense. “If it’s
so normal and common here where the hell are they?”
“Who?” Wolfram asked frantically. Yuuri’s sword was becoming as erratic as his energy. He could feel a sheen of moisture on his skin and it was too early to
be this dark out. “Where are who, Yuuri?”
“The gays! I can’t be the only one!”
“I don’t-“ Wolfram hissed when his sword was wrenched away by a wet swirl of wind. Then he was being crushed against Yuuri’s chest with something tugging
and pinching at his right hip. It took a long moment to realize his fiancé was squeezing the breath out of him and Morgif was eating his pants. His mouth fell
open. Then a deluge of rain soaked them both. Wolfram gave up. He curled his arms around Yuuri, rubbing his back while easing his hip as far away from
Morgif’s mouth as he could. “I’m sorry, Yuuri, but I have no idea what gay means. Tell me who the gays are and I’ll promise to help you find them. Okay?” Yuuri
trembled for a moment, and then started laughing. Wolfram decided to take that as a good sign.
By the time Yuuri laughed himself out, there were menacing rumbles and cracks overhead. He didn’t want to take shelter, though. That would require letting go
of Wolfram. He sighed and dropped his head onto Wolfram’s wet shoulder. “Did I make it rain?”
“Yes, you did.” Wolfram smiled at Yuuri’s guilty little voice. “Did making it rain make you feel better?”
“Yeah…”
“Good. Now get Morgif away from me before he bites me for real.”
Yuuri recoiled, lifting his sword to gape at the blue cloth hanging out of Morgif’s pursed lips. “Morgif!”
Wolfram snorted as he eyed the damage. The sword had eaten through the seam along his right hip and the corner of the front pocket. Yuuri’s eyes dropped
to the ragged hole, and Wolfram tugged the edges together as well as he could. “At least his teeth aren’t as long as his lips,” he shrugged.
“You pervert!” Yuuri yelped at his sword. Morgif grumbled defensively and continued chewing on the blue in his mouth. Yuuri’s face went bright red. “I thought
you only liked girls!”
“He bites anyone who touches him except you,” Wolfram reminded him. He grabbed Yuuri’s arm and pulled him out of the little courtyard and onto the
sheltered walkway. “Technically I was touching him. It was hard not to with you holding him right next to me.” He recalled his own sword and released Yuuri. He
had barely stepped into the downpour when a crack of lightning shot down to race along the length of his blade. The hairs on his arms stood up and he darted
back under the overhang. “That could have been us!”
“Are you okay?” Yuuri dropped Morgif, ignoring his grumbled of protest. Wolfram was running his hands over his arms and Yuuri did the same. Wolfram’s arms
were covered in goosebumps and his face was pitch white. Yuuri felt about the same. “You were almost struck by lightning!”
“I don’t need you to tell me that,” Wolfram snapped, letting out a shaky breath. “That could have been us. The next time you make it rain, leave the lightning
out of it.” He sent a wary look at the rain sloshing up along the rail and soaking the floor beneath their feet. That wasn’t just rain out there, it was a veritable
storm. “Come on,” he said, smiling weakly at Yuuri. “Grab Morgif and let’s get changed before one of us gets sick. I’ll come back for my sword once it dies
down.”
Yuuri’s eyes dropped again to the pale skin and bit of black cloth peeking out along Wolfram’s hips, then he turned on his heel to snatch up his pants-eating
sword. “He can keep yours company,” he growled before tossing Morgif into the courtyard. Morgif’s mournful moans were music to his ears. Wolfram’s grin was
even better. “Justice,” Yuuri said, with a grin of his own.
Wolfram laughed. “Just as long as no one steals him.”
“I should be so lucky,” Yuuri scoffed. He caught Wolfram’s hand, sorry it was cold and wet because he’d lost control, but happy that it closed firmly around his
own. He didn’t know if hand-holding was normal here or not. At this point he really didn’t care either way. Wolfram didn’t seem to mind, and his opinion was the
only one that mattered.
“Now,” Wolfram said, as they hurried toward his room. “Tell me all about these gays you’re looking for. I’ll do whatever I can to help you find them.”
Yuuri winced. “Can we pretend I didn’t say that? At least for tonight? I really don’t want to get into that.” At all. Ever. Now with Wolfram.
“Will you explain eventually?”
“Yes. I promise.” And he would, too. About five years after they were married. Or maybe ten. Ten sounded good. A solid decade.
“And bee-showman?” Wolfram prodded. “I won’t have you insulting me in another language. Unless that was a reference to bearbees?”
Yuuri laughed. “It’s bishounen. Nen, not men.”
“Nen?”
“I’ll explain what it means later,” he promised. That explanation wouldn’t be nearly as awkward. He hoped. “It has nothing to do with bees and it’s not an insult.
Okay?”
“I suppose. I just hope our next sparring bout isn’t quite so…confusing.”
“You and me both,” said Yuuri.
.-.
Conrad was halfway to his room when Yozak slipped into step beside him. The man was soaking wet and grinning like a fiend. Conrad braced himself. Yuuri
and Wolfram had both turned up at dinner with wet hair. When Cecilie asked if they had been caught in the freak storm that was still raging outside, the two
had looked at each other and laughed. Conrad had quite literally bitten his tongue through the entire meal. He should be relieved at this chance to get some
answers. He wasn’t.
“You know you’re welcome to take dinner at the table with the rest of us,” Conrad reminded him.
“I swung by the kitchen earlier. It’s amazing how chipper they are down there considering how much they all hate making that pudding. It must have been quite
a scene this morning. Hate to have missed that. I’m going to make a killing on that betting pool, though.”
Conrad glared at him. “You did not take part in that.”
“And if I did?” Yozak grinned.
“You will regret it.”
“Promises, promises,” Yozak waved. “You’re just jealous because you couldn’t make a bet yourself since you were in the running, too.”
“That’s-“
“I know, insulting and wrong and whatever are those maids thinking.” Yozak bumped Conrad’s stiff shoulder with his own. “Ease up, already. Yuuri doesn’t pay
any attention to things like that. He’ll never know about the pool, and he wouldn’t think anything weird even if he did find out. Anissina’s name is still on there,
you know. And Gwendal has more points than you do.” He grinned when Conrad missed a step. “I think it’s that whole pretend engagement in Svalera. Awfully
wicked of him.”
“Yozak…”
“Wolfram has all but won that pool now, so the real wagers are being placed on the wedding date. I’m debating on putting my money down for before the
ceremony. The odds are long for that spot. Would be a great win and I wouldn’t have to share it with anyone. Except Anissina. She put her money down before
she left, the sly gal.”
“I am not amused,” Conrad muttered. “Just tell me why you’re wet. Only a madman would go out in this.”
“Regular hurricane, eh? That lightning is nothing to joke about. I wouldn’t have gone out in it except, well, it’s the oddest thing. I was walking along the soldier’s
wing, just minding my own business and getting some air, when I heard this moaning.” He snuck a gleeful look at Conrad’s stiff shoulders and pinched face.
“You know I’m not one to interrupt someone else’s fun, but the moans were awfully loud. The voice was familiar, too. Now, I admit, I never pegged Yuuri as the
sort to play in a lightning storm…” Conrad stopped in his tracks. It was all Yozak could do not to crack up. This was too easy. “But you did ask me to keep an
eye on Wolfram, so I figured the least I could do was make sure he wasn’t out there with him. Not that I wanted anyone else to be out there with him, either,
what with all that moaning going on…”
“Yozak.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to take my sword to you.”
“Which one?” Yozak quipped. “Anyway, as I was saying, I went ahead and followed the moans and there he was, laying in one of those little courtyards right
next to Wolfram’s sword. I couldn’t just leave him out there, so I went ahead and put him on Wolfram’s bed. I left a note, too, just so everyone knows who did it
this time.”
“You were referring to Morgif, then.”
“Of course. The poor thing was moaning fit to wake the dead. If not for the thunder he’d have scared half the castle. It was the weirdest thing, though. He had
a strip of blue cloth in his mouth. Looked like a piece of a pocket, only I couldn’t tell if it was a front or back. Wolfram didn’t happen to be limping when he came
in to dinner, did he?”
Conrad stalked away with a pounding headache. “I am so glad I can provide a source of amusement for you.”
“You saw it for a second there, didn’t you,” Yozak prodded mercilessly. “What do you think they were doing in that courtyard? This storm didn’t blow in on its
own. Did they seem happy at dinner? Maybe a little more…relaxed…than usual? When is the last time you’ve seen Wolfram go anywhere without his sword?
Did you wonder about that? Him coming into dinner all happy, relaxed, and without his sword? Maybe even holding hands…?”
Conrad whipped around to pin him with a sharp stare. “Just how much did you see? Stop playing with me and spit it out. I don’t want to hear any more about-“
“Yuuri having warm fuzzy feelings for your little brother? I know. But word in the castle is heavily leaning that way. Me, I saw them coming out of the treasure
room earlier today, holding hands as casual as could be. Is that the usual thing for guy friends to do on earth? Because it looked awfully sweetheartish to me.”
“I have no idea how hand-holding is considered on earth,” Conrad said dismissively. “Wolfram has led Yuuri about by the hand too many times for anyone
here to be surprised by that.”
“Except this time it was Yuuri leading Wolfram. In the direction of his bedroom, from the looks of it.”
“It would certainly be a relief to have them back in there,” Conrad said flatly. He refused to be bothered any further by Yozak’s implications. The man had been
right about the meddling and the map. He was not right about Yuuri and Wolfram. “Don’t take your jokes too far, Yozak. Yuuri is the Maou, and Wolfram is too
honorable to take advantage of anyone, least of all his own king.”
“Not even when they’re engaged?” Yozak drawled.
“Especially when they’re engaged. He’s a noble, after all.”
Which was an insult as far as Yozak was concerned. “You know, he might be a noble, a demon noble at that, but he’s flesh and blood the same as you. So is
Yuuri, for that matter. You put two hormonal teenagers together and things happen. That’s life. I don’t know why you fight it so hard. You never were a prude.”
“I am when it comes to my little brothers. Yes,” Conrad said, before Yozak could interrupt, “I know Wolfram doesn’t view Yuuri as a brother, but he should.
Putting them together is practically incestual.”
“Now you’re trying too hard,” Yozak said, rolling his eyes. “Back to business, I don’t know what they were doing in the treasure room, or how that ended up with
them out in that courtyard. Do you want me to stalk them around the castle for a bit and see what I can dig up? Although, you might not like the results...”
“Gwendal moved the royal guards outside Wolfram’s room, as I’m sure you noticed when you were in there. They should be safe enough for now. Yuuri
promised to move back to his room while the nobles are visiting for the ball. Hopefully he’ll take Wolfram with him. I’ll want your ear to the ground from the
moment the first guest arrives until the last one is gone.”
“No wondering off for me, then. I wonder what I should do with my time…”
Conrad snorted as he opened the door to his room and closed it behind them. “You can start by putting an end to whatever betting is taking place down in the
kitchens. You would think after being informed that Greta was down there they would be more circumspect with their entertainment.”
“They keep a guard posted now,” Yozak said in their defense. “She won’t be getting close enough to hear anything she shouldn’t. Not that there’s much gossip
about anything besides the engagement right now. I don’t think I’ll be able to find out who was talking about Wolfram usurping the throne. Everyone cares
more about the wedding than they do the kingdom at the moment. If he has any haters down there, they’re playing mum.”
“I’m less concerned with the sentiments inside the castle than I am with the ones outside it.”
“We’ll know how the wind blows once people start trickling in. In the meantime, here.” Yozak held his hand out with a proud, and only slightly malicious, smile. “I
pried this out of Morgif’s mouth. Didn’t seem right to leave it there, it being so close to your little brother’s crotch and all. Unless it’s a back pocket…” He
shrugged and waved the bit of cloth at Conrad’s blank face. “Either way, it’s all yours.”
“You were serious…”
“Of course! Do you think I’d joke about something as serious as an attack that close to the king’s fiancé’s crown jewels?” Yozak put up a token protest when
he was escorted bodily from the room. It wasn’t until he smacked a palm on the door that he noticed Conrad had snatched the evidence out of his hand.
“What?” he asked through the door. “What did I do? I was being helpful! If this is the thanks I get, see if I do you any more favors!" He grinned when nothing
but silence seeped out from under the door. Leaving Conrad to stew in his own doubts wasn't quite as enjoyable as staying the night, but it was a close
enough.
.-.
PART 13
.-.
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