AN: To those curious about the double chapter... My bad! T_T It's been a long time since I posted anything on , and the formatting has destroyed me! (Not to mention I was running late for work!) Sorry!

Thank you, everyone who reviewed!

Hurt

Wolfram was proud of himself, even if he was the only one who ever was. Watching as Saralegui and Yuuri interacted at the spring equinox, he had yet to throw the tantrum that just ached to be unleashed - instead, he sipped heavily from his wine glass, and did what he felt was a good job of not-glaring at the two kings from the corner of the room.

'Jealousy won't bring you love, Young Master.'That's what Yozak had said to him, not even very long ago. If that were true, then why was Yuuri still treating him the same way as always?

'I'm so glad you're safe!'

//Well, maybe not the exact same way as always…// he mused, blushing as he remembered Yuuri's arms wrapped around his shoulders, the smell of the demon king's shampoo. The gesture had been so unexpected - he had thought if anyone would be permitted a touch from the half-blood, it would be Conrart. Those two were constantly touching eachother - a hand on a shoulder, fingers grazing as they passed eachother food at the dinner table. Since having decided to follow Yozak's advice, it had taken every last bit of his strength not to scream in outrage.

Still, no one noticed how well behaved he'd been lately. They all still tip-toed around him like he was going to start scorching something at the slightest provocation. It wasn't fair!

//And they're still dancing!// To battle down the urge to light the drapes on fire, Wolfram downed the rest of his wine in a tear-choked gulp, and just for small spite, threw the glass into the fire. There was no one to notice, no one to care that he had done such a childish thing. Part of him was relieved, but he was mostly furious. There had been a time when all eyes were on -him- like that, before Yuuri came to Shin Makoku and Wolfram had found himself suddenly no longer the center of attention.

He stormed out of the ball room as Saralegui had the indecency to let his hand slide lower on Yuuri's back, rushing for the balcony before any self-restraint that could be, would be lost. The air was chilled, but not unpleasantly so. It made the fire in his veins slightly more bearable as he leaned against the carved railing, staring distantly over the gardens, remembering the past.

There had been very few children to play with as he was growing up, and Conrart - his little big brother - had done his best to make sure that he didn't notice such things at the time. In his earliest memories, Wolfram knew that Conrart was -always- there, to cheer him up, to play with. It was Dun Hiri's son who cared for the scrapes and bruises that came from Wolfram's escapades, and at the time, he'd been so endearingly obssessed with his brother because of it. Then one day, it was all gone.

The third son had no idea what changed between one day and the next - it had been that sudden. One day, Conrart was willing to follow him to the ends of the world, and the next… Wolfram was being dragged away from the breakfast table by a nurse maid. He had cried for his little big brother, and no one had come to stop his tears. Days had gone by, each the same - a blur - until Conrart left for the military academy.

Gwendal had taken up his charge then, filling his days with facts from long-ago, drilling the names and dates and places into his head until he wanted nothing more than to fall asleep at the desk in his brother's office. He had been heartsick, and missed the brother who would play with him. So when Conrart returned on a break from school, Wolfram had thought it right to let his brother know what a mistake it was to leave him behind. He tried to make Conrart jealous - told him that Gwendal was a much better brother, caring after his studies and trying to make him a better student than Conrart could ever be. Those brown eyes had been obviously hurt, but then they hardened, ignoring Wolfram completely.

//That's when people started to ignore me completely.// He was certain of it. After that, there had been no sneaking snacks from the maids, and none of the nobles who visited - with the exception of Uncle Waltorana - doted on him when they came to visit his mother. Sure, his mother's suitors all said sickly sweet things about him, and gave him toys to play with, but with no one to share them, life had been so… empty.

The rage that had filled him then, the bitterness of having lost his little big brother and not understanding -why- was the precursor to the 'selfish loafer' that everyone knew and dreaded. The last dinner they had had as a family before Conrart was to return to the academy, Wolfram had allowed his anger to consume him, and it manifested as the candles on the table exploding in a burst of violence fit for the battlefield. Hot wax had spewed over all of the diners, himself included, but the sparks gathered in the center of a table, wobbling at first as he struggled to control the flame. The ability came quickly to him, though, and to emphasize the horrified gasps of all who witnessed the event, he molded the fiery orb into a wolf that stood upon the table - singing the cloth as it growled and glared directly at Conrart.

'Wolfram!'Gwendal had been the one to break his concentration, and the fire beast had disappated quickly, along with his strength. But no one dared to ignore him after that day… except for Conrart.

"Shouldn't you be dancing, Young Master?"

The sound of footsteps behind him caught his attention and he turned, seeing Yozak dressed in military uniform. It was unusual, but the green material made the spy even more impressive.

"Hmph." he turned back to the garden, wishing that he could turn back time, to make different decisions in his life. What would life have been like if he had lived with his uncle instead? Maybe he never would have met Yuuri…

"Gotta say, it's been weird these last few months. I haven't heard you call his majesty 'wimp' or 'cheater' once. The whole castle is placing bets on whether or not you're sick, or found someone else."

"As if."

"The kid seems to be enjoying all the space you've given him. He's not a bad lead on the ballroom floor, either. The ladies are raving that he hasn't stepped on their toes once all evening."

Wolfram's fist clenched tightly, his fingernails digging deeply into his skin to draw blood. "Just… just leave me alone. Please."

The man didn't leave - he could tell, because he could see Yozak out of the corner of his eye. His brother's companion was just so… annoying. He sighed softly, and cursed silently the day he'd even heard of Saralegui - no doubt it was that, that…. -aitsu- who had improved Yuuri's ability to dance. Wolfram had tried to, once, but Yuuri had backed off so quickly, offended by the very idea that another boy would dance with him.

//But… Saralegui is a boy too, and Yuuri doesn't mind doing any of it with him. Is it me? Am I not pretty enough? Is there something wrong with me?//

He was overreacting. It was clear, even to him, that Yuuri had changed a lot in the two years they had known eachother. He no longer seemed to mind that Wolfram slept in his bed, and the idea of Wolfram having feelings for him obviously didn't bother him at all any more. Apparently, Yuuri's problem was that he didn't feel the same way for Wolfram. Maybe he was even planning to announce the dissolving of their engagement tonight, so that he could propose to Saralegui.

Before he could stop himself, Wolfram leaned further over the rail, retching what little he'd eaten at dinner and all the wine he'd indulged in over the edge. Tears pricked at his eyes as Yozak rubbed his back, smoothing his hair as he sobbed. His hands trembled violently against the marble rail, and the entire world was spinning dangerously around him. Slowly, he sank to the ground, not caring if his suit became ruined with dirt and grime. The coolness of the stone felt good against his hands and through the material of his pants.

"K'so!" Yozak was cursing, large hand brushing against his forehead. "He's burning up!"

There was the sound of footsteps again, and then Conrart was kneeling in front of him.

"Wolfram?" his brother asked gently, feeling at his face, studying his eyes. When Wolfram didn't have the strength to voice even a mild complaint, the older half-mazoku removed his outter jacket, handing it to Yozak. "Tell his majesty that I'll return after I've put Wolfram to bed."

"Right-o, boss."

Conrart helped him to his feet, which felt as though they had been replaced by lead blocks. Moving took effort that it normally wouldn't.

//Why… me?// he wondered darkly as they pushed though the small gathering of nobles in the dark recesses of the ball room. After they entered the hall, Wolfram could barely sound out his surprise when Conrart scooped him up like a bride being carried to her marriage bed, and easily carried him up the stairs to the room that was his alone.