"Yuri! Would you stop fidgeting already?"

Wolfram dealt another sharp blow to the back of Yuri's head.

"Ow, geeze! I'm sorry." Shibuya rubbed the affected area with irritation. "This isn't exactly my idea of good time. You also really need to stop doing that."

"I'll stop when you stop squirming around like a little brat!"

The artist stood by patiently as his subjects squabbled. It was only the tenth time it had happened this afternoon.

"Brat?!" Yuri exclaimed with disbelief. "How am I possibly being a brat? I agreed to pose for your picture, didn't I?"

"You can hardly expect me to be impressed by you agreeing to sit. A dog can do that with training. A dog would probably be better than you."

Yuri glowered at the comparison.

"Couldn't I have worn more comfortable clothes at the very least?" Yuri tugged on his long red cloak. "It's practically 37°[1] in here!"

"You want to look regal, don't you?"

"But the sword?" Yuri gestured to his hip where Morgif had been trying out different facial expressions. His joyful gurgling hadn't ceased since he learned his moment of posterity was upon him.

Wolfram crossed his arms.

"A king needs to demonstrate that he wields tremendous power if any foreign nation is going to take him seriously."

"Can I at least lose the crown?"

Wolfram's fury ignited.

"I swear! You are the most impossible, insufferable…human I have ever been attached to."

"Ok I know I'm half human but you don't have to say it in that tone. Besides if being attached to me is so awful we don't have to be that way anymore. I've given you a million chances to leave. Why don't you just take one already?"

Wolfram froze. His face grew pale. Yuri expected him to yell again, to hit him, to do anything. The worst part was he never did. He just stood there staring right through Yuri into his soul. A whole cauldron of emotions brewed behind his eyes. Yuri had no idea what to say. He and Wolfram argued almost constantly but he was beginning to realize this was more than that. This was becoming a real fight. Yuri needed to choose his words very carefully. The tension was so thick a knife was more apt to get stuck in it than cut through. One thing was so for sure nothing could make it any more awkward.

"Your Hi-i-i-ghne-e-e-ss!"

Wolfram put a hand to his forehead and turned away from his fiancé.

"Great. This is just perfect."

Günter placed a hand on his chest and fought to catch his breath.

"I apologize deeply and fully for my tardiness. Your humble and lowly servant has arrived to do your bidding. Your wish is my command!"

Wolfram set down the scepter he had chosen as a prop. He turned and smirked cruelly.

"There you go. He's willing to conform to your wishes. He'd probably let you pose in your pajamas if you wanted. Go ahead. Marry him for all I care."

With these words he was gone. Yuri was dumbstruck. What do I do now?

"Günter, I really messed up big this time… Günter? Günter! Why are you passed out on the floor?"

Günter's eyes were completely out of focus. He muttered to himself as though drunk repeating the same phrase over and over.

"His Highness… marry me? His….Highness marry me? His Highness…"

"Ugh, you're not going to be of any help right now." Yuri turned to the painter who had since gone deep red with embarrassment at intruding on such an intimate moment. "I beg your pardon." Yuri took off running. "Wolfram! Wo-o-o-lfram! Come back!"

1. This is in Celsius. Translates to 100° Fahrenheit.