I wrote this during last year's National Novel Writing Month. It isn't complete yet, but over the next year it should be. It ranges from fluff to some serious drama, from tender moments to pink pillow dreams, lol. I just had a lot of fun writing it. This is for all you fans who think Wolfram doesn't get enough love! ^_^


Chapter 1

Wolfram sighed, staring at the back of Yuuri's head longingly. At the soft, black tresses swaying at the nape of his neck while he studiously poured over his paperwork. Wolfram could already imagine his face though it was hidden from his view: A mix of concentration, determination, and boredom. Though he no doubt would rather be playing catch or visiting the townsfolk, like a good king, he did his royal duty – however dull it may be.

Yes, even Wolfram had to admit Yuuri was becoming a fine king. He had certainly been wrong when they first met, and now his actions spoke of his change of heart. This boy from another world turned out to be a fine king indeed. As for a fine fiancé…

Wolfram turned to stare out the large, multi-paned window common throughout the castle, at the courtyard below. There servants tended to his mother's garden or walked about busy as bear bees doing their assigned task or giving out orders.

Wolfram rested his head against the wall, staring up at the deep blue sky and sighed inwardly. He wondered what he was doing wrong. For although Yuuri had proposed the day they met, he never did anything one would expect a fiancé to do. He had seen his mother with many a lover, but Yuuri never did any of those things. Wolfram usually put it off because they had 'more important' things to do, such as gathering the four boxes, saving their country from the onslaught of war, but now that things were quieting down, he couldn't think of any reason why Yuuri wouldn't take some action.

They had been engaged for more than a few months now, and even though they now shared a bed and the whole country knew of their intentions, Yuuri never even gave a wink or indirect kiss let alone a suggestive comment. No battering of black eyes, no subtle teasing or caresses, not even an embrace. Nothing.

Is there something wrong with me? Wolfram thought. Am I in some way unappealing to Yuuri? Is there someone else Yuuri's lavishing his affections on in secret? He clenched a fist, knowing that was most likely the case. His wimpy fiancé seemed to love everyone in the whole world. Yuuri knew everyone in the castle by name and what they liked. Every time they went to a different country, he wanted to bring back 'souvenirs.' He, though being the Maou, the supreme ruler of the Mazoku, whose word is law, let village children scold and chide him and order him around.

This, Wolfram hated to admit, was also what made Yuuri such a good king. The people loved him as well. He was a gentle and kind ruler with a sense of justice and borderline adulterous love whose timidity was in actuality strength.

Yes, it was more than likely that some 'cute girl,' as the Great Sage put it, was receiving His Majesty affection. Possibly, he thought with horror, even more than one. Though that assumption thoroughly angered Wolfram, he had to know why his fiancé would turn to another. What was he lacking?

Yuuri lavished his affections on many, the top of the list being his daughter, Greta. She was constantly receiving hugs and praise from Yuuri, sometimes without good reasons. She even now took up a fair portion of the bed at night. Wolfram couldn't hold any of it against her, though, she being his daughter as well and having grown fond of her while he looked after her in Yuuri's absence. It was nice having someone to wait for his returns with.

Second on the list forming in Wolfram's mind was Conrad. Being Yuuri's name-giver, it seemed the two were constantly together. His brother got way more quality time than he did, always rushing to protect Yuuri before Wolfram could get a chance. Playing catch with Yuuri, their talk about trust between teammates and their understanding glances that turned into staring contests of love. Wolfram didn't think that Conrad was the perpetrator, the one ruining his hearth, since his brother really wasn't that type of person. Sure he cared about Yuuri, but Wolfram knew Conrad would never think of encroaching on another's love life.

Everyone else in the castle seemed to get more equal shares of His Majesty's love, except for Günter who always insisted on more. The silver-haired scholar wasn't much a threat, but he was a constant reminder that Wolfram had to keep his guard up to keep his fiancé. Yuuri seemed to merely appreciate Günter's assistance, but the adviser appeared to have ulterior motives and fantasies in his mind he wished to come true. Wolfram had to always keep on his toes when the two were together, for fear the Günter might whisk Yuuri away to some dark corner of the castle on the excuse of business: though he never would without His Majesty's permission first of course.

That's why Wolfram was here today.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Günter supervising Yuuri's work and organizing the signed documents to be filed away or sent to wherever or whomever they needed to. Yuuri thanked him for his hard work with a bright, beaming smile which sent Günter reeling with spasms and twittering moans of "Ah, Heika!"

Wolfram really wanted to punch him then. Sad as it was, it seemed even Günter got more affection than he did. Something was very wrong here if the fiancé got less attention than everyone else in the kingdom. Wolfram wanted to get to the bottom of it. To do that, he had to investigate, possibly even a little spy work. If his wimpy fiancé was being unfaithful, he wanted to know, find the hussy, and give her a lesson she wouldn't soon forget.

"That settles it!" Wolfram shouted, leaping to his feet and breaking the peaceful quiet of rustling paper and pen strokes.

"Ah!" Yuuri squeaked, jumping in his chair. Paperwork spilled around him and he scrabbled to catch the falling pages. "Wolfram, you scared me half to death! What was that for?"

Wolfram stood at his side, glaring down at him, a determined smirk across his lips. "You're my fiance, Yuuri," he stated, "and don't you forget it" before marching out of the room and slamming the door behind him.

"Huh?" Yuuri blinked, puzzled. "What was that about?" He turned to Günter for an explanation, but the man only shook his head and raised his hands in defeat.

"The actions and reasoning of a spoiled prince is a hard thing for one to fathom entirely."

~*~

Day one of his investigation, Wolfram decided to first go through Yuuri's clothes to see if he had been with anyone else. Mazoku had keen senses, including smell, so if there was anyone out there with the gall to try to seduce his fiancé aside from those Yuuri usually was in contact with in the castle, Wolfram was sure he would discover it. And since Yuuri was still busy with paperwork, there was no chance of his investigations being compromised.

He past the canopy bed and approached the large wardrobe filling a corner of the room. Opening its large wooden doors that creaked on old hinges, he was faced with a wall of His Majesty's black royal attire. It had been especially made based after the original earth clothes he had come in, which Yuuri professed was for educational purposes. Nonetheless, the tailored pattern had become a striking silhouette on the young king.

Wolfram lightly fingered the gold buttons and straightened the high collar, before taking one down for a gently whiff. Aside from fragrances of food, his mother's perfume, and ink, there wasn't much to say about it. He got down another. The same, except now Greta was added to the mix. He went through all of Yuuri's state attire and found no traces of infidelity.

Examining the bottom of the wardrobe, Wolfram searched for what other articles Yuuri kept within it. His baseball outfit and glove which reeked of sweat and leather polish. Wolfram pinched his nose after that one and held it away at arm's length to put it back. There were also his clothes from the other world, the white cloak he had worn during their travels between worlds, the earmuffs Gwendal had made for him, his coat for the cold terrain of Big Shimarion.

Wolfram became breathlessly after sniffing each one. He leaned against the wooden door to regain himself. Since when did Yuuri have so many clothes!? He must have at least 50 pairs of the same pants and shirts. Günter really went overboard making sure he was prepared in case of any emergency.

He frowned, since none held anything indicting. Just horses, grass, flowers, and the mingling scent of people from the castle town. Nothing distinct like the perfume of a strange woman – aside from his mother's. She was out of the question though. A born flirt, she couldn't help herself when it came to men, plus she encouraged the arrangement between he and Yuuri so she wouldn't do anything more than glom him occasionally.

Then after putting all the other clothes away - an exhausting feat - he found that only one item remained: Yuuri's pajamas.

With his head slightly swimming from the plethora of fragrances, he picked up the light blue fabric and smiled to himself. How often had he seen Yuuri in this? He ran a finger over the red threading and straightened his shoulders. If there truly was anyone in Yuuri's daily affairs who was more than just a common passerby, this was the last place Wolfram wanted to sense it. He gulped down his fears and with firm resolve, took in a large whiff.

A smile instantly played over his lips as nothing but Yuuri's scent, his, and Greta could be found.

He lingered a little longer over it, getting a bit intoxicated by the remnants of the Maou's special bath oils and Yuuri's strong but comforting scent. It sparked memories in Wolfram's mind, of nights when he snuck into Yuuri's bed to lie beside him. Quietly creeping over pillows and slipping under fresh sheets, to face his fiancé sleeping on undisturbed. Moonlight draping over him, dark lashes fluttering against his warm cheeks, soft breath from his parted lips, as he dreamed away. Lips that looked soft enough to…

"Ah, Wolfram? What are you doing with my clothes?" Yuuri's voice broke through the fantasy.

Wolfram froze, as the dark world around him crumbled. He hadn't even heard the door open, yet there was Yuuri standing in the doorway with an eyebrow raised in puzzlement. Wolfram gripped the pajamas, wondering what he should do with them. He furrowed his brow, trying to hide his blush. He couldn't let Yuuri see him like this.

"I was just wondering what the stench was in here. A king should know when to have his clothes sent for washing." He shouted, throwing the pile at Yuuri, smacking him right in the face. Wolfram marched past him out the door, leaving Yuuri to try to scrabble out of the tangled mess of clothes.

Wolfram was furious at himself and his incompetence. He had made up that excuse on the spot, knowing full well that the maids came in daily, unseen, to wash whatever had been used. So much for being a spy. His first act was a complete failure. He had to be more diligent, more watchful.

Wolfram grinned to himself. Yes, watchful is definitely what he had to be.