Porcelain Doll
If I had ever known what would come from my dearest wish… well, I don't know, maybe I would have done it again, or maybe not…
I mean, it's not that bad. I'm never at risk, I have all the time of the world for my hobbies and I finally have my one and only true love at my side.
But ever since our wonderful day in front of the altar… Ever since that time my brothers only look at me with pitying, reassuring smiles and glances, my personal guard is now led by my brother Conrad and my gorgeous white horse hardly comes out of the stables.
He says it's for the best, says he'll protect me… I start to wonder how in Shinou's name my job became his.
Back then, when he was still the reckless, naïve and helpless king, back then I would protect him. That was my only goal, I would save him from any danger, even if it would mean my own death.
Now I never even join my men on a harmless patrol… or even a trip to the town. Why?
Because that reckless, naïve and helpless king, my sweet innocent Yuuri, turned in his other self. He turned into the coldhearted, strong and merciless maou.
I stand before him. Yuuri seated on his throne, high on the platform, unreachable… The true king of Shin Makoku.
His gaze is full of worry and I know what he wishes…
His most precious possession in a glass casket, preferably with a huge lock on it and guarded with a million soldiers.
I'll never allow that, never.
I wait for him, stand at his side when he needs me, behave as a good husband should, but it's not enough for him.
He knows my past, he should be able to tell what I want most, but I don't dare to speak up against him. I don't dare to confront him, just like the others, who only serve the King's wishes.
I am grateful to be his and only his, but the weight of the silver crown weights too much already, yet he only speaks of sweet nothings. Yet he only tries to see the irrelevant business in this country.
He wants me on my best, buys me the most gorgeous clothes, made of the finest silks, and the richest fabrics.
He hardly ever touches me, afraid he will hurt me. And only his most trusted friends are allowed to be around me.
The castle became my prison, my own family my guards, and the king? … he became my captor, my owner, my master, my… collector.
Oh, how I long to be outside again, stand in the front line of a war, blood dripping of the blade of my royal sword.
Oh, how I long for endless rides on my horse, soaking wet from mother nature's rain.
Oh, how I long to be free again…
For in his eyes, I, Wolfram von Bielefeld, am reduced to a dearly beloved, precious, beautiful, but lifeless, useless…
Porcelain Doll.
A/N:
So this is a little story I had written, but it was on paper and it seemed longer that it finally appeared to be.
A cookie for the one who knows on which song this is inspired^^