Please note the rating for this story has been raised from T to M in this chapter.

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The Demon Nation of Gael, Landlocked Quarter, Capital Ring.
Late December.

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Tai watched in silence, his eyes moving back and forth as the girl circled the flames. Her feet were bare, toes dark with earth and curling slightly into the ground with each careful step. The breath from her lips was scarce, chest barely rising under her thin dress. She had only started to sweat a few minutes ago, but already the cloth stuck to her thin frame, small droplets beading on her skin before rolling down to drop from her fingers. Night was falling on the Quarter Day.

Frith had been walking since dawn.

It was unheard of for The Walk to take this long, visions normally wished to be found or they wouldn't call out. Frith had been on edge for months, waiting for the day to be right so she could touch this one. It had been crying to her spirit, waking her from dreams she couldn't remember. There were always tears.

The tears worried him, and he would rock her back to sleep each night. Most visions were good, and even though Frith's heart was kind there had yet been a sight unfortunate enough that it would make the Diviner doubt the Acceptance of Present.

Her scream startled him. She fell onto the fire before he could stand and pull her from the burning logs. The smell of wounded flesh curled in his nose and he clutched her shaking and screaming form to his chest, trying to hold her still lest she hurt herself further. His mind raced.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Diviners walked. Diviners walked to see and to help.

"He'll die!" She screamed, tearing at her hair until blood tarnished the already crimson curls.

He tried to hold her, stop her from making it worse but she moved like nothing he had seen, back arched and limbs twisting impossibly in all directions. "Shh!--I'm here my little Rabbit! --- I'm here---" He cooed, trying to calm her.

"Our King!" Tears flowed from her eyes as she stared past him, unblinking and reflecting the fire still burning beside them. "He gives it away!" The raw scream that followed pierced the night and he could hear doors opening, people rushing to see the commotion in the Village Center. "The King will take it--The King will order it done!"

Tai's blood ran cold. "Where is he? If he's come we have to save--"

"Too late, too late!" She sobbed, her convulsions had slowed, and her left hand clutched his shoulder. "It's been seen..."

"What's the price!" He shook her, desperate to focus her scattered mind. "There's always a price to change it-"

Frith's body was limp now, her head lolled down at an angle and she stared up at him through thin lashes, pupils impossibly wide. "The King must die... to save the King."

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Blood Pledge Castle, Shin Makoku.
Late December.

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Classical music croaked feebly out of the water-damaged CD player as two pairs of semi-coordinated footsteps echoed loudly in the cavernous room. Decorations already covered the walls. White drapes billowed elegantly up to the ceiling, waiting to take on the blue hue of the flames that Wolfram's soldiers would produce. More than twenty tall silver pedestals had been arranged throughout the ballroom, casting crossed shadows along the floor with the light that poured in from the line of high windows along the western wall. Everything seemed to be ready for the Winter Formal tomorrow.

Everything except for him.

Yuuri tried to lead Wolfram into a turn, but stepped too far and ended up with half his weight sinking into the point of his friend's boot. He groaned. Yuuri thought for sure he'd gotten over the 'stepping on people' phase. It had to be his nerves. Wolfram had been making him practice every day since he'd recovered from his return to Shin Makoku. Two weeks of awkward… confusing… heart pounding lessons that left him mysteriously frustrated for hours on end.

Wolfram had to be doing this to him on purpose. Yuuri had never been so flustered in all his life... it just wasn't natural to feel this way.

It was this dilemma that been absorbing Yuuri's thoughts ever since he and Murata packed some dusty books in air-tight boxes and headed to Earth. Or that was what he liked to tell himself. The truth was the issue had been attacking the small corner of his mind it had been forced into ever since Wolfram tried to kiss him on Elizabeth's wedding night.

The tension had been growing, persisting to an itch that sat stubbornly in the pit of his stomach, occasionally rising up to choke him whenever Wolfram looked at him just so. It had gotten to the point where just a subtle brush of shoulders would make him jump, the static tension of his withheld thoughts crackling between them.

Of course Wolfram didn't notice a thing.

Or at least he did a good job not showing anything. Acting like everything was normal. That it was right for to boys to dance together at all, let alone spend an hour a day in each other's arms. That it was normal for Wolfram to keep kissing his cheek each night, lips grazing his skin too briefly for him to come to the reassuring decision that he hated it. That it was disgusting, perverse, amoral, and wrong.

But even that fact, that truth about how the world worked seemed broken. Wolfram liked men, seemed to like him sometimes. But Wolfram wasn't disgusting. He was beautiful.

Sure, he was bratty at times, selfish and loud and clingy. But how he cared for Greta, the way he glowed when she was near him. Yuuri could remember Wolfram from the beginning, he had watched his friend change, watched his heart grow and become as beautiful as his eyes.

The eyes that somehow only saw him no matter what was happening around them.

And then another thought, another worry to add to the storm in his mind: Why did such a boy, a man, a soldier, a noble with the face of an angel, tarnish everything... the reputation he had spent a lifetime achieving, all for him? An awkward seventeen-year-old foreigner who had never even had a single girlfriend. But that was how he was on Earth. In Shin Makoku he was a King.

Alone, in his bed on Earth, recovering from the physical and psychological drain of escorting Murata between worlds, it was the thought that Wolfram might only indulge him because of his position that haunted his mind. A dark thought that was all to easy to forget when Wolfram's eyes found his during dinner, or when his friend's palm pressed gently into Yuuri's shoulder when they danced.

If only this frustration wasn't so distracting! Yuuri was acutely aware that he should be more worried about Caloria. About the innocent people suffering miles and miles away. But the more he tried to do something, to read some of the books Murata had left in his room while Murata went off to talk to Dr. Rodregas and search for a possible solution, to stumble into his brother's old bedroom and search the net for information, he just couldn't. He had been too drained by the most profound exhaustion he had ever experienced. It felt like torture, being too tired to even leave his bed, trapped in a place between dreams, feeling helpless and incapable of anything but worrying over this ill-timed hormonal crisis.

No wonder Shinou hadn't allowed him to pop back and forth between worlds whenever the mood struck him. The journey itself was one thing, but the hardest part was keeping time from running by too quickly in Shin Makoku. The only thing that kept him going was the vivid mental image of an enraged Wolfram.

Still, the feeling of helplessness consumed him. And knowing how much he hated this feeling was the only thing that kept him from sneaking into the stables and making the journey to Caloria alone. If he was there he might be able to be of some help, to Flurin, to the people, to someone. But of course he could never go alone. Conrad and Wolfram would inevitably follow, and then they would be the ones left feeling helpless, unable to protect their king from the "invisible menace".

It was all just so complicated! Yuuri was always, always thinking about something unfortunate lately. He could just feel something inside himself about to snap. Hopefully it wouldn't happen during the formal...

Yuuri shut his eyes as a headache started to pound beneath his forehead. And there was THAT, the whole Prince Saralegui visit political situation of impending awkward.

Why did everything have to happen at once?!

When Yuuri opened his eyes, Wolfram's face was only inches away, eyebrows arched in concern. "Yuuri--?"

"Sorry Wolfram, I just have a headache." Yuuri tried to sound reassuring, but he could hear the revealing snap to his voice.

Wolfram smirked at him, ignoring the shortness of Yuuri's tone. "Well, I don't know what you do about headaches on Earth, but I can't imagine it involves standing on people--"

"Sorry! Ah- Why didn't you tell me?" Yuuri jumped.

"I didn't want to distract you." Wolfram crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head to the side. "Maybe if you figure out what's been bothering you you'll be able to pay attention to your lessons and won't spend the entire formal staring into space."

Yuuri could feel his face go hot. "We've practiced and practiced already! I won't embarrass you, or at least not any worse than last time. I've been reviewing international politics with Gunter every morning-- don't even make me start about all the Shou Shimeron history and customs Gwendal insists I memorize-- what he can find for me to memorize at least-- And do you THINK he would kill me if I spent the entire night staring at he wall!" Yuuri sucked in a breath, only now noticing how much his voice had raised during his little speech.

Wolfram seemed completely un-phased and stepped toward him.

"Wolfr--?"

"Shh," his friend hushed. "This should help."

There was almost no space between them, and Wolfram's fingers were so warm where they came to rest on both side of his face. Yuuri could feel his heart begin to race, the soft pressure of live air brushing against his lips, pushed rhythmically from his friend's lungs.

Was Wolfram going to try to kiss him again?

Yuuri shuddered, but for all the wrong reasons. As good as it felt, it was only a result of his inexperienced hormonal confusion. When Wolfram kissed him, really kissed him, it would be wrong. It would be wrong and Yuuri could go back to how he was before.

Afraid of the intensity of Wolfram's gaze, Yuuri let his eyes close.

"Hold still," Wolfram ordered, and without thinking Yuuri let his tongue slip out to wet his own dried lips.

The fingers near his cheeks moved up, pressing gently into the dip of his temples. Through his eyelids Yuuri could see a soft light begin to glow.

Yuuri's headache vanished almost at once and Yuuri could feel calm slide over him in waves. He moved closer to the source of this wonderful feeling, barely able to keep his knees from going out. A small noise of contentment escaped his throat, but he was feeling much too comfortable to care. His head fell forward into Wolfram's shoulder and he rubbed his face sleepily against his friend's neck, breathing deep. One of the hands on his head moved down, cradling his neck as the rush of calm came to a halt and he collapsed into Wolfram.

"What was that?" Yuuri managed, knees still shaking. At some point he must have grabbed onto Wolfram's shoulders for support because his fingers were still digging into the soft leather of his epaulettes.

"Just a bit of healing maryoku. Sorry if it wasn't very good, I've never put this particular theory to use before."

Yuuri moved a step back as soon as the buzz of calming power left his mind and smiled. "Don't apologize, that was amazing! How come you've never done that before?"

"Because you didn't deserve it." Wolfram looked pleased. "You've been remarkably un-wimpy lately-- moody, yes-- but everyone's been impressed by how well you've been handling the current situation."

Yuuri blinked. "Really?" To him it seemed like he had been failing miserably.

"Really." Wolfram nodded. "So consider it a reward for not acting like your usual self and running off into the middle of things without thinking."

Yuuri pouted and Wolfram replied with one of his best smirks.

"Now," Wolfram snapped, holding out a hand. "Back to the lesson."

Shaking his head in amused defeat, Yuuri complied, and they spent another half-hour dancing without Yuuri making a single mistake, the afterglow of Wolfram's magic making the rest of their time together eerily pleasant.

When they were finished, Wolfram hurried off to make sure all of his guards were able to produce the blue signal fires for a suitable amount of time, leaving Yuuri alone in the room with only his old CD player for company. He walked over and turned it off. Yuuri had heard enough of the leisurely music for today. It was sounding worse every hour as the batteries slowly ran out. Yuuri had decided to bring it at the last minute, after deciding that the only thing worse than failing miserably at dancing with Wolfram was failing miserably at dancing with Wolfram in front of an audience. They needed music to practice, and Yuuri didn't like the idea of half an orchestra watching him step all over his fiancé. The old CD player had seemed like a reasonable solution.

Since it had been so last-minute, he hadn't had time to pack it properly. There had been so much to take back. Murata had specially ordered a solar-powered battery charger for his laptop (thankfully, he'd managed to get it to the temple before Anissina had discovered it) as well as even more books to add to the piles they were bringing back to Shin Makoku.

His mother had insisted on sending along some of her curry, in addition to another brand new dress for Greta, and had been overjoyed when he'd asked her if she had a letter for Wolfram. Apparently Murata had been the one accommodating the little mail service until now, and so even though his mother agreed to send the letter with him, he was placed under the strictest instructions not to open it.

Of course, when he'd taken everything back to Shin Makoku he'd barely arrived conscious and slept for three solid days. Wolfram had been there when he'd woken up, putting down his book with a relieved sigh and calling one of the maids to bring him a platter of food. Murata assured him that everything was normal, and that he was just getting used to controlling his new power. His friend insisted he was doing remarkably well considering Yuuri essentially had to control a power that didn't consider him its master yet. The time before this Yuuri had been asleep even longer... In fact, the only time he'd been able to travel between worlds without suffering such extreme exhaustion since he came into Shinou's power was the first time, but then it had been Murata who'd collapsed later at the temple, only up and running the next day as a result of Ulrike's emergency aid. According to Murata, it was best if Yuuri learned to recover himself. After all, it wasn't like letting him sleep for a bit was the end of the world.

Yuuri had only discovered Murata's difficulty afterward... He discovered most things well after they happened. It was a disturbing trend he hoped to remedy as soon as he could. How was he supposed to be a good king, a good friend, if no one ever told him anything?

That was one of his favorite things about Wolfram. His friend would tell him anything about politics if he asked the right questions, and usually Wolfram would hint extravagantly until Yuuri figured out there was something he should be asking. Yuuri wondered when Gwendal would have told him about the possible connection between Caloria's sickness and Shou Shimeron. Probably not until the older man had decided what was going to be done about it. Too late for Yuuri to try to help or come to a decision on his own. Yuuri appreciated Gwendal, and he knew everything good in Shin Makoku would have ended long ago with out his leadership, but how was he supposed to be a good king if...

Yuuri sighed.

He hadn't exactly been the most reassuring king-in-training... It made sense that Gwendal would try to protect him. But it was just so awful to always be the one who needed protecting.

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Wolfram groaned and let his head fall back against the stone wall. Controlling himself was always a challenge when he was with the wimp. But today... Wolfram whimpered and dug the heel of his hand into his crotch, a futile attempt to ease the painful throb of his seemingly constant erection. It just wasn't fair! How was he supposed to control himself when Yuuri did things like that, looking so ready to be kissed, practically keening into his shoulder. The soft sound had instantly burrowed its way into his mind, waiting to be re-played at all the wrong moments.

Moments like now...

He bit his lip and glanced at the wooden door of the storeroom he had slipped into. Since it was dark Wolfram could see the reassuring silhouette of the bolt connecting in a solid line to the stone door frame.

Wolfram shivered and slid down the wall. It was cold in the old storeroom, and he could only hope the low temperature would help cool his deviant body. There was no way his men would be as oblivious to his condition as his fiancé, and he was leading a final training session with them in less than an hour. With the skill those lack-wits were displaying, Wolfram would be surprised if more than seven or so were able to sustain a blue flame for a suitable amount of time. As it was, he was going to be lighting half the ballroom by default.

The buckle popped audibly from the leather hole and Wolfram hissed, the source of his frustration no longer strapped flat against his stomach. He closed his eyes and clenched both his fists into his hair, leaning forward to rest his head against his knees. Trying for a moment to will away the inevitable.

After all this time, it still felt wrong to think of Yuuri while he touched himself. Fiancé or no, his obliviously sexy wimp would probably disown him if he were ever discovered. The physical evidence of Wolfram's need for his wimpy king would likely disgust him enough to end all thoughts of experimentation.

It was clear that something had changed in Yuuri's recent outlook on his own sexuality, but Wolfram couldn't be sure what exactly it was. Yuuri could be starting to return his long-harbored feelings, but more likely he was just experimenting. After all, Wolfram was the one closest to him... willing... convenient... For all he knew, Yuuri was just waiting to close his pretty black eyes and pretend Wolfram was a woman. He rubbed his face into his knees. Not that Yuuri would have to imagine very hard if he just wore a dress-- he would only have to close his eyes once it was off.

But hadn't that been the point of stealing one of Mother's nightgowns? Maybe he should have known then that he was embarking on a futile love cruise of his own. He sighed and clenched his toes. It was all because he was getting greedy. Yuuri was showing interest, and immediately Wolfram wanted more.

Everything Wolfram wanted, should want, had become confused. Yuuri had just come into his life and permanently addled his mind. But the high Yuuri gave him, the little blinks of bliss that only his wimp could produce, made it impossible to do anything but swallow his pride and keep on loving him.

And if everything happened... If miracles happened and Yuuri loved him back one day, the allure of that possible future happiness, everlasting, was just too good for Wolfram to turn away from.

Yuuri's experimentation, or even consideration of Wolfram's careful advances, presented opportunities for Yuuri to take the next step, was the best thing to happen to their relationship since Weller lied and pretended to betray them all. Wolfram couldn't afford to make a single mistake. Yuuri would make the first move this time, no chance for his pity over Wolfram's one-sided feelings to get in the way.

Thinking about all the possibilities, possibilities that seemed surreally feasible given Yuuri's recent lingering touches and blushing glances, made him twitch against the stiff fabric of his pants. A hand trembled down between his legs, pressing lightly against the heat there. He shuddered.

This wouldn't take long.

It never did when Yuuri was around. Since Wolfram gave up the privacy of his own room for one side of the king's bed he couldn't afford to take his time. Besides, all his fantasies were bitter-sweet, and a leisurely pace that allowed for rational thoughts only led to more emptiness when it was over.

And Wolfram had been feeling so tired lately, it hardly seemed worth the effort. The staggering increase of Giddy Yuuri Feelings that had been tormenting his mind was very distracting and Wolfram knew he really should be worried about a million other things.

Things like the hollow pull in his gut that still hadn't disappeared since he had helped Yuuri with his headache. He must have actually stressed his summoning stamina with all his recent use. Wolfram was sure most of the damage was due to Anissina's blasted meddling, but if the trinket actually worked it would be well worth a little exhaustion now.

Wolfram couldn't help but smile when he thought about giving it to Yuuri during the Formal tomorrow.

Gwendal would be ashamed of him, wasting time on emotional drivel when there was so much to do. So much to worry about with Prince Pervert from Shou Shimeron on the way, that now it hardly seemed the time for daydreams. But it really was so much nicer to fantasize about ravishing Yuuri against the curtains in the ballroom than ponder whatever cryptic messages letters contained.

Again he mentally cursed Shinou's "gift". It had been so much easier to keep the perversions of his mind at bay without the detailed images and phantom sensations of flesh on flesh cruelly fueling his imagination. If only the pervert Sage would stop reminding him at every chance... Still, it gave a shadow of heat to the imagined curve of his fiancé's neck as he thought of pressing their bodies together, tongue sliding against his wimp's throat as he teased out that delicious sound...

Wolfram brought his free hand to his mouth, biting down on his fist to stifle a groan of his own, and let his worries fade, if only for a moment.

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Conrad Weller could feel the tiny ice crystals beginning to form on his eyebrows. The hot air escaping his nose and mouth made whisking trails against his face and up into the darkness of the branches that crossed above him along the path. His horse snorted, shaking its head to scatter the snowflakes trapped in its mane.

The outskirts of the city were always quiet in the evenings, but the layer of fresh snow covering the ground muffled every sound, blanketing the sparse woods between the city and the farthest wall with an almost eerie silence. Shin Makoku had many walls, each one newer, stronger, and farther from Blood Pledge Castle than the last. Most of the oldest walls had merged with the city, made into sides of houses or torn down in places to make way for new roads.

The farthest wall was visible through the trees now. Strong and dark, cracked and rebuilt, a testament to the strength of their nation. This wall, more than any of the landmarks Sir Weller passed along his way, evoked tumultuous feelings. It was this wall that was built more than twenty years ago in preparation for the most recent war against the humans, this wall that first greeted him when he and Yozak had returned, bloody and victorious, to face the tragic death of innocence.

This place was the landmark of beginnings and of endings. It would outlive him and everyone he knew.

Conrad was so absorbed with his thoughts that he was almost surprised when Sir Franklin emerged from the brush to salute. The young Sergent was a half blood, but too young to have accompanied him and his troops on their "death march" to Ruttenburgh, a fact Sir Franklin was still green enough to resent. The young man reminded him of Wolfram in that respect, still thinking that the battlefield was the only place one's worth lay.

The man's broad shoulders and strawberry hair, however, reminded Conrad of someone else. As good a man as Sir Franklin was, Conrad missed having the support of someone who had fought beside him, saved his life more than once, serving as his second in command. He hadn't realized what a luxury it was, not to worry about being betrayed in the midst of any campaign, but with anyone besides Yozak the seed of doubt was there, dark and seeping in the crevices of his mind. If it was Yozak, at least Conrad knew his back wouldn't be turned.

"Captain."

The brisk word snapped Conrad's focus back to the task at hand and he nodded down at the man in greeting, his horse shifting to find a comfortable hold on the rocky path. "Report."

"We've got men covering the perimeter, here and at the castle, and two dozen at the main gate. Just enough to hold off any surprises long enough for back-up to arrive if we need it."

Conrad nodded again. "Don't worry about tracking up the snow, Sir Christ will send someone down before dawn to remove any footprints. I've been informed that the guests will be arriving around midday tomorrow. If nothing happens you'll receive new instructions in two days. Is everyone supplied?"

Sir Franklin smiled up at him. "Supplied well enough, but if nothing happens we'll have some rowdy boys in those bushes come two days. Nothing suspicious from the ones farther out?"

Conrad shook his head. "Which is only more suspicious-- But I'd rather deal with some bored soldiers. Watch our men, too. A wall is more likely to crack from the inside."

"Yes, Sir!" Sir Franklin saluted.

Conrad echoed the gesture before dismissing the Sergent and nudging his horse into a turn. It was a half-hour's trot back to the castle and Conrad hoped to return before dark. Checking up on the men himself hadn't been strictly necessary, but the ride was calming after all the preparations that had weighed heavily on his mind for months.

The cold air gave him focus, seeping into his skin as the wind whipped through his uniform. There were far too many possibilities for what lay ahead. Too many things that could go wrong. Too little known about their opponent.

Shou Shimeron had been politically isolated for nearly six hundred years, and even before that the territory itself was estranged within the previously united Shimeron. There just wasn't much there for anyone to want. Some decent farmland, sure, but all the choice areas had gone to Dai Shimeron. The smaller country tended to stay out of world affairs and was practically self-sufficient when it came to trade. It had been surprising enough when they made an attempt to go after the boxes, but now this?

Conrad's knuckles whitened where he gripped the reigns. He was no closer now than he'd ever been to figuring out the other country's motives. Or were they even dealing with Shou Shimeron? Was it possible that Prince Saralegui was acting on his own, that their intentions really were peaceful? Conrad sincerely doubted that. If there was anything he'd learned in life it was that nothing ever goes the way you want it to.

At least now Conrad had something specific to worry about. These past moths all he could do was watch the wrinkles dig their way into Gwendal's forehead. Worrying about Yuuri was easier than everything else, almost a second nature. And at least if Conrad failed he wouldn't be alive to lament.

While Conrad was concerned about not being at the wall if there was an attack, he wouldn't give up his position as Yuuri's shadow for anything. If anyone tried anything at the formal they would be bleeding before they knew they had been seen.

Anything happening at the formal was, however, highly unlikely. Every possible precaution had been taken by himself and others to ensure their king's absolute safety. Conrad had actually been impressed with Wolfram's contributions. The blue flame was a wonderfully subtle addition to their surveillance measures, as even Wolfram's men looked more like decorations than soldiers. They would be watching the hall from their positions along the perimeter, ready to signal if anything seemed suspicious.

Conrad would have some of his more trusted men along the entrances to the ballroom as well as the surrounding corridors. In addition, several of Gwendal's soldiers were posing as dignitaries in case anything happened during the formal itself. Even though the chances of it were slim to none, with the level of uncertainty surrounding the situation, it put everyone's mind at ease to have a plan in place.

The light had almost gone from the sky by the time Conrad entered the final gate and handed off his horse to Baodomero's boy. He couldn't help but smile down at the youth who spent almost all his time when not helping his father being pestered by Greta. If the girl wasn't careful she was going to end up just like Wolfram. Wilfrido's eyes barely flicked up to meet his, though, lip worried between his teeth, before leading Conrad's stallion back to its place.

Even at this late hour the courtyard hummed with activity. Servants and soldiers criss-crossed along the grounds, arms full of flowers, packages, or swords. It was chaotic to say the least and Conrad couldn't help but miss Gisela's imposing organizational prowess. Dorcas was having almost no luck directing the ebb and flow of urgent shuffling and his squeaking voice could just barely be heard over the roar of the crowd.

Conrad took the steps two at a time on his way to Gwendal's office, dodging out of Sangria's path just in time as the maid practically flew down the stairs with an armful of laundry. Her frantic "Excuse me" echoed up the stone of the stairwell a few seconds later.

When he reached the door to the office Conrad was surprised to hear Gewndal's raised voice through the wooden frame.

"...not a matter of the heart it's a matter of politics!"

Deciding not to eavesdrop Conrad knocked and reached for the door handle. Before his fingers touched the brass the door swung open, revealing a rather flushed Sir Christ.

"If that selfish loafer burns down the formal linens..." His old teacher mumbled under his breath, hardly looking at Conrad as he passed. Gwendal's instructions for the man to gt some rest followed Gunter out the door and Conrad was left facing Gwendal.

"What was--" Conrad started, pulling the door closed.

"Politics." Gwendal's lips were set into a thin line and his dark eyes held a glare that signaled the conversation's end. "Have all the arrangements been made at the wall?"

"Yes. How about the arrival tomorrow?"

"I'll be seeing to it personally," Gwendal grumbled, shuffling some papers on his desk. "All of the usual guests will be staying in the East Wing. Those two will have the North suite."

The North suite was the only room in the wing that was fit for esteemed visitors. The rest of the rooms in the area were soldiers quarters. Conrad nodded. It was definitely the safest place for them. "Is there anything else you want me to take care of?"

Gwendal paused, eyes searing up at him. "At the formal-- Spare an eye for our brother."

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The temple courtyard was nearly black with night, the only light flickering softly from the Sage's lantern. Murata should have left for the castle much earlier, but it had been obscenely difficult to tear himself away from his reading. Still, all his research seemed useless without access to the pathogen.

His nerves were strung, humming in anticipation for the following night's events. There were so many suspicions he longed to confirm, so many he wished would be wrong. As he mounted his horse and waited for the escort from Sir Voltaire to arrive, there was only one thing of which Murata was absolutely certain.

There would be no attack by the army of Shou Shimeron.

All the military preparations were pointless, if anything a pathetic demonstration of their own predictability. It was good of Gwendal to put the kingdom's uneasy minds at rest with a little display of arms, but at the same time Murata wished more focus could be put on their Little Problem. The more biological threats from Shou Shimeron were worrisome indeed and he was anxious to talk to Lord Wincott and hear his responses to the coded letter he had sent before this last visit to Earth. The entire family had been so gifted when it came to healing--

"Your Grace!" The priestess huffed, clearly out of breath.

The Sage looked down at her in alarm only to have her shove a scroll up at him.

"Ulrike summons Sir Belefield to the shrine at once!"

Murata pushed his concern behind a familiar mask. "Hn, I guess I'll never get out of doing the chores..."

The priestess glared at him. "You're going there, aren't you?"

"Yes yes, but don't you think I deserve a reward for my efforts?" Murata flashed his most winning smile. "What's this about?"

"A summons," she articulated, lips pursed with disdain. "For Sir Belefield."

Murata pouted dramatically and watched her walk back toward the temple door, the beam of light from the inside vanishing with a bang as the priestess closed the door behind her.

"Well, Sir Belefield, aren't we popular..." Murata murmured to himself.

As if he didn't have enough to think about.

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Yuuri mashed his cold toes into the rug while he sat fidgeting on the end of his bed. Wolfram was standing with his back to him, brushing his hair at the vanity while Yuuri was decidedly not paying attention to the cute way the curls poofed. Nor did he even notice the way the other boy's nightgown hung off his shoulders, only barely rising half way down his body to suggest the curve of his rear. Yuuri sighed, closed his eyes, and decided this was what going mad felt like.

"You'll be fine." Wolfram murmured from across the room.

Yuuri opened his eyes in time to see Wolfram turn to face him. His eyes were cast down and he was worrying his lip as he pulled a few black hairs from the hairbrush. The motion made the pink lace at the bottom of his nightgown swirl distractingly around his calves.

Yuuri looked away. "Sorry about using it..."

Wolfram seemed confused for a moment before snapping out one of his usual retorts. "Why would I mind if you use it? Don't be so wimpy."

"Sorry," Yuuri sighed, flopping back onto the bed. "I'm just so worried I'll make a mistake tomorrow. I feel like I'm already starting to forget all the things I learned a week ago..."

"What sort of things?" Wolfram put his hands on his hips. "Besides, I'll be there tomorrow to remind you of any customs--"

"It's not the customs... It's... I don't know why some things are." Yuuri put his arms behind his head and forced himself to look up at the ceiling. He actually did have pertinent questions and looking at Wolfram wasn't helping him think straight at the moment. "For instance, why don't I have to greet representatives from all ten of the Demon Kingdoms? I mean, I suppose you would count as the one from Belefield--"

"Not exactly," Wolfram interrupted, voice dark. "But the other country you'd be thinking of is Gael."

Yuuri turned his head to look at him, surprised by the shortness of his friend's tone.

Talking about Gael seemed to cool Wolfram's earlier irritation and he flowed right into explanation mode. "Gael doesn't need to send representatives to Shin Makoku because it is essentially a part of Shin Makoku, even more so than the other Demon Nations. For instance, there is no Lord in Gael. They are under our direct rule where as in Spitzburg, for instance, Stoffel is the Lord and if we want something done there's all sorts of politics involved.

"Gael is the oldest Demon Kingdom. As you should have learned, Shinou was born there, and over time, various wars have split the territory. The largest part is an island to the West, beyond Frankshire, but there is a small bit, often called 'Landlocked' Gael, to the South by Cabalcade--"

"That's where Mr. Shiny-- Hristo Cruyff is from right?"

Wolfram nodded.

"But that doesn't explain why they don't--"

"Gael swore allegiance and sovereignty centuries ago. The religion there is old... very superstitious. They're content to be ruled by Shin Makoku until their 'True King' comes."

Why was everything here so confusing? "What do they mean by True King?"

Wolfram sighed. "In Gael there is a prophecy that there will be a king strong enough to unite the world... There's more to it. A lot of rubbish about being 'twice born' and creating 'peaceful mist'. In all likelihood, if there was a prophecy, it was talking about Shinou. But it doesn't matter much. They're pretty peaceful and the island territory supports a good trade."

Yuuri let his head turn to look at him and tried not to seem confused.

"Don't think too hard, we don't want you hurting yourself." Wolfram's lips turned up in a wry smile.

There was just something about that look... Yuuri could feel his heart start to beat faster. It was time for bed, almost time for that to happen. Maybe Wolfram wouldn't do it tonight. His stomach did an uncomfortable flip. If Wolfram didn't do it his chances to be reassured by its unpleasantness would vanish!

He couldn't keep living this way! He hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep since it started. This had to stop...

"You're thinking too hard."

Yuuri jumped. When had Wolfram gotten so close? All he could do was stare up at Wolfram, who was peering down at him from the foot of the bed. He moved even closer and Yuuri could feel the brush of fabric on his pajama-covered knees.

"Why don't you tell me what's distracting you?" Wolfram was smirking at him, as if he somehow knew how frustrating he was being. Then he crawled up onto the bed, putting his knee between Yuuri's legs and one hand on either side of his shoulders.

Yuuri swallowed. "Erm..." He replied eloquently, watching the way Wolfram's bangs brushed his cheekbones. Yuuri could feel his cheeks get hot and he licked his lips.

Any second now.

Any second now, Wolfram was going to kiss him on the cheek and say goodnight, and then the other boy would move away like nothing had happened and crawl beneath the covers. Yuuri would be left here on the end of the bed, eyes still screwed shut, desperately trying to feel the disgusting truth of the kiss. It was going to happen. Just the same as it always did.

Yuuri was pulled out of himself by the flutter of eyelashes against his cheek. Wolfram always closed his eyes right before it happened.

And then something inside him broke.

Before he realized what he was doing, Yuuri had both his hands clenched in Wolfram's hair. He was breathing hard, and he could hear Wolfram's quick breaths by his ear as the other boy froze. This had to end. Yuuri had to make this terrible feeling stop and if this was the only way then so be it. Without giving himself time to reconsider, Yuuri pulled Wolfram's head to the side and pushed his mouth against parted lips. He felt Wolfram's breath hitch.

These lips were soft, unmoving against his own as Yuuri realized he had no idea how to do this. He pushed out his lips and relaxed again, waiting for something to happen. Something disgusting, anything beside the electric humming of his nerves that seemed to spread out and focus at every point they touched. How could these lips be so soft, so supple, when his seemed so dry? How was he suddenly so aware of every little tremble those soft lips made, so shocking amidst so much still?

Because those lips didn't move. They remained slightly parted, waiting for anything Yuuri would take. But that wasn't what Yuuri wanted. If they didn't move, it was too easy to feel the soft strands of blond that wove between his fingers. Too easy to lose himself in every feminine curl. It was simple to let one hand slide down, against soft flesh that almost burned his fingertips through silk, and let his thumb rest on a hipbone.

This wasn't what Yuuri wanted at all.

Yuuri wanted those lips to move, to touch him and make him feel wrong. He pulled at the top lip, and then the bottom with his own, more frustrated than he'd been in his life that Wolfram was making this so difficult for him. As an experiment, he pushed his tongue out a little, running the tip just along the inside edge of that trembling mouth.

Wolfram moaned, or keened, or made some kind of disturbingly delicious sound and something must have broken inside him, too because all of a sudden those lips were kissing him. Wolfram's mouth was hot and demanding, and the world seemed to fall away. The yearning pressure against his lips was altogether so desperately necessary that every nerve ending that wasn't part of this earth shattering moment screamed in agony. His clothes were too rough against his skin, his feet too cold on the floor.

It did feel wrong. So good it was wrong. So wrong he never wanted to stop because then he would start to think, and once he did this wonderful thing would never happen again.

It was so good. Something about the way these lips melded against his made Yuuri feel at the same time powerful and desperate. The way Wolfram seemed to cling to each of his feeble attempts at whatever this was, as if he needed him. The way Yuuri thought he might fall apart if these lips stopped tugging so perfectly at his. He needed more.

Yuuri never imagined, could never have imagined. This heat, it needed to be closer, and so he pulled. At first Wolfram wouldn't move, unyielding to his desperate tugging from below. Yuuri arched his back, anchored completely by his too-tight hold on hair and hip, until the heat in his groin connected wonderfully with Wolfram's thigh. He groaned and rubbed himself against it, needing more, needing anything, until there was a choked sound above him and something solid crashed partially down on him, bodies crushing together for an all too brief moment before Wolfram was able to brace himself on his elbows instead, hands grasping at whatever part of him they could touch.

But it wasn't enough. Wolfram's thigh had moved to a strange angle and Yuuri couldn't quite-- Yuuri finally, finally, pulled him all the way down, forced to relinquish his claim on lips to cry out and gasp at air. Wolfram didn't stop kissing him though, just moved to a place below his ear that Yuuri didn't even know could feel so much and made needy sounds of his own between stolen breaths. It all just felt so good

Then he felt it. Something his body could never pretend was part of a girl.

He shouted and shoved so hard with every part of himself that he was surprised when Wolfram was suddenly off the bed, curled into a cursing ball on the floor while a loud Thunk still echoed in his ears.

"DAMN IT!" Wolfram sputtered. "WIMP!"

"I--" Yuuri started, too shocked to finish. Too busy watching his friend struggle to stand and pull a robe from the back of a chair, still slightly hunched in his agony.

"SHUT UP!" Wolfram screamed at him, shaking. "WIMP you... YOU... ARG!"

This was so wrong. "Wolfram, I'm so SORRY, I never wanted--"

"You will NOT finish that sentence!" his friend seethed, and the candles around the room crackled impossibly. "I'm leaving." Wolfram stood up straight, pride punishing him for his efforts as he let a pained hiss from his teeth.

Yuuri's eyes widened in shock and he leapt from the bed. "You're not serious?" Wolfram couldn't leave... not just because of one mistake... one moment where some stupid teenage hormonal terrible-- "Wolfram..." Yuuri reached out to him, letting his fingers trail down his arm to touch the back of his friend's hand, afraid to hold it lest he do more damage. "You can't ... leave."

Wolfram just watched him, eyes still terrifyingly hard.

"Wolfram..." His voice quivered. Where would Wolfram even go? Back to Belefield? What would he do without Wolfram? "Please..." He could feel his eyes starting to water and out of habit he bowed as low as he could while standing. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I--"

"Stop that." Wolfram snapped, jerking him upright again. "I'm going to the bathroom." He did his best to smile reassuringly but it still came out as more of a grimace. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Ohh," Yuuri managed, feeling stupid. "Well-- Erm..."

Some of the light had made it back into Wolfram's eyes. "Just try to get some sleep tonight."

Yuuri nodded. It was all he could do really. Everything that had happened was starting to come back in a rush and he didn't think his skin could turn more red.

Before Wolfram turned to leave he paused, green eyes piercing him, and Yuuri wondered what his friend must think of him now. He didn't even know what to think of himself. Everything... It was so hazy, like being sucked into something bigger than himself. It was like the tug in his gut that pulled him between worlds, guiding him even with all the water rushing through his ears. But it was still him. Something he had made.

His mistake.

Once the door had opened and shut, leaving him alone in the room, Yuuri sat down where he stood, hardly aware of the placement of his limbs any more than to notice he probably bruised something in his hasty decent. He covered his face in his hands and curled into himself, suddenly aware that despite his mortification he was still somewhat hard. What did this mean? What had he done? What was he thinking?

Was this... Did this make him gay? Even in his mind the word sounded terrible. Yuuri could feel terror spread through his veins and bile start to rise in his throat. But Wolfram was so much like a girl, really, and it wasn't like he had access to a real one. When Wolfram brushed his hair, when the fabric moved against his porcelain skin, when his breath hitched and their bodies were close... It was only because he couldn't tell the difference. It was just a physical reaction.

But what if it wasn't just a physical reaction for Wolfram? His friend had always hinted... But was that only because his position as the king's fiancé required it? But... As much as Yuuri wished it were true, he couldn't see Wolfram being motivated by anything other than his own heart. And what had he done? Would Wolfram hate him now? Would Wolfram expect more? If he didn't get it, would he leave?

The questions were so big it was all he could do to repeat them, let alone come up with any answers. After the shaking had stopped and parts of his body had calmed, Yuuri noticed how cold he was and crawled over to the bed, sliding up under the covers from the foot. His face was sticky from tears he hadn't noticed falling and he could only breathe through one side of his nose.

It was dark under the covers. Safe.

What was he going to do? What if anyone found out? What if Conrad... or Gwendal? Yuuri moaned. He was doomed. Yuuri was sure neither of them would appreciate what had just happened any more than he did. No one could ever know... Maybe Wolfram would agree to pretend like nothing ever happened?

Stupid ideas. He was so stupid! How could his body have betrayed him like this?

It was getting hot and hard to breathe, so Yuuri was forced to make his way to the top of the bed and poke his head out. The cold air in the room struck his cheeks and he tried not to let any of the warm air escape from under the covers. The candles were still lit. Yuuri wondered if Wolfram was going to come back soon or if he should go blow them out.

His thoughts were so depressing, so exhausting, and his body was feeling oddly relaxed as if to spite him. Yuuri fell asleep without meaning to, lost in dark thoughts, and the candles burned themselves down to their holders.

He woke up once before dawn, eyes surprised to find the room dark. In a moment of panic, Yuuri sat up in bed, relieved as the sudden motion and flash of chill made Wolfram roll in his direction, light snores accented with the occasional murmur of dreams. Yuuri watched him sleep for a while, until the he noticed Wolfram was starting to shiver. Bursting with questions he was too afraid to face, Yuuri drew the covers up again and fell back into a restless sleep.

They were woken early. Gunter listing off the day's events and Wolfram rushing off to see to his own duties. Yuuri felt lost. He was terrified that everyone who looked at him would know, would see it in his eyes.

What had he done?

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The room was tastefully decorated. Soft-colored napkins and tapestries brought out the vibrant hues of the food that more than covered the long table. Although no one was as formally dressed as they would be for the evening's events, silk from beyond Suberela and Voltarian Chiffon in more colors than Gwendal was comfortable with littered the room.

He was always amazed by how many people Gunter could fit comfortably in the formal dining room. Even though many had come to decide what to do about the situation in Caloria, the Formal was traditionally a happy occasion and the mood of the guests reflected it. Since there were so many guests, it had been easier to serve the brunch in more of a buffet style. The more casual setting allowed those attending to cluster off into smaller groups, old friends reuniting and circles of women laughing about trivial matters. Of course, the largest of these groups was the one surrounding the young Maou.

Stoffle was in that group, making a nuisance of himself while the Maou politely ignored him, trying instead to maintain a conversation with the recently wed Lady Critenden. Gwendal had always been fond of the girl, she had been a good playmate for Wolfram when he was younger. Her dress wasn't as tight as her usual tastes and her husband kept a possessive hand on her back throughout the conversation. Gunter was there too, paying attention to the conversation but also letting his eyes wander over to the buffet table now and again, ready to harass the wait staff if any of the plates started to run low.

Mother had arrived early this morning and was currently greeting everyone in her usual way. She had only made it past Gunter to latch onto the King for a moment before Wolfram finally arrived, Greta in tow. The girl ran off, likely in search of her little friend from Calbacade, and Wolfram made his way toward His Majesty. Refreshingly, instead of making a fuss, he stood by, waiting his turn, and hardly seemed surprised when Mother broke into tears and latched onto him instead.

She still blamed herself.

On the other side of the room, the Sage was talking to Sir Wincott, gesturing adamantly despite his hushed tones. He had only looked away for a moment when Wolfram walked in.

Flurin had been unable to attend, still overwhelmed with her country's suffering. According to her coded letters, the spread had not slowed with the onset of winter, but they would be returning Gisela in a few weeks. Her report would be invaluable. There was nothing he could do until then, and he was therefore satisfied by worrying about the problems he could solve now.

Gwendal finished his tea and stood, taking one last look at Wolfram. His brother seemed much more focused than usual, and for that matter so did His Majesty. They were both refraining from their usual displays of childishness, and Gwendal could only hope it was because Wolfram had understood his warnings and that they were both prepared for the worst.

Still, it was possible he was just being paranoid. Gwendal wouldn't be able to confirm his suspicions until this evening, but he was anxious to greet their special guests none the less. His scouts had reported their punctual arrival at the border, and a small group of carriages and mounted soldiers had become one carriage with two occupants.

The other guests had been informed of Prince Saralegui and his guard's attendance at the Formal and the whispers had already started to move throughout the castle and city, rumors seeming to seep from the very walls. As the doors to the dining room closed behind him, Gwendal let all the trivial worries fade from his mind. This meeting was about observations, and if he went in with preconceptions he could miss something important.

Gwendal didn't have to wait long once he arrived in the courtyard for the carriage to pull up to the gate. He nodded to the driver, one of his best men, and waited for him to climb down from the seat and open the door.

The guard exited first. Reyes. He had to lower his head in order to climb through the carriage door, and when he stood he was a good three inches taller then Gwendal. His hair was dark, tied in a ponytail that fell low on his back. The taller man looked down at him, eyes piercing over high cheekbones, before turning to the side and letting his hand hover near the carriage door.

A pale hand emerged to cover it, only using it for the barest support. For every bit that Reyes was tall and dark, the Prince was small and light. His hair was almost white and fell unrestrained over his narrow shoulders. When he stepped onto the ground his glasses slipped down his nose, but the Prince was too busy taking in the sparse activity of the courtyard with wide eyes to fix them.

"Welcome to Shin Makoku, Your Majesty," Gwendal spoke, nodding slightly and making eye-contact with each in turn.

Gwendal was about to introduce himself when the Prince smiled up at him. "You're too formal, Sir Voltaire, but thank you for the warm welcome."

"You'll be staying in the North Suite." Gwendal tried not to let his voice harden. "I'll have my men deliver your things to the room immediately." It was then that he noticed the trunks, tied in a large stack to the top of the carriage.

This did not bode well.

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Anissina had never been fond of parties. Of course she could appreciate the aesthetic beauty of the whole affair. The boy Wolf's fire was absolutely gorgeous and gave the entire ballroom a soft blue hue by reflecting off the myriad of hanging silken drapes. But the fact that this beautiful room was filled with hypocrisy and lies was revolting.

She took a sip of her bubbly drink and recrossed her arms, the mostly-empty glass dangling by the rim from the tips of her gloved fingers. The dance floor was empty. Now that His Majesty had taken an "interest" in Wolfram, by dancing with him at the last ball, the precedent of the Maou and his partner starting the Formal off could officially continue. Her Little Loafer must be so pleased.

Anissina smiled to herself. She had to give the boy Wolf credit, he was finally starting to grow into a fine young man. It had been rather pleasant getting to know him better over the last two years, though his taste in men was pitifully tragic. It figured, that all the decent men in her life would end up with a penchant for other men. In Wolfram's case however, her concern was much more maternal, and she hated that His Majesty would cause him so much suffering. The poor boy had been through more than enough already.

A flash of motion caught her eye and she peered through the crowd. Greta and Beatrice were up to mischief as usual, but this time they had captured another participant. The stable boy looked decidedly out of place in one of Wolfram's old shirts and scuffed shoes, but Greta and Beatrice seemed to be too busy arguing over who got to dance with him first to notice. The boy's long ponytail swished back and forth as the two girls tugged on him. Humans did their growing up too fast. Greta seemed, in Anissina's mind, perpetually young, and it was so odd to see her partake in such adolescent antics.

Across the room, Gwendal was playing the Formal Introductions Game with "His" Majesty from Shou Shimeron. (Really though, she had never seen a more feminine-looking man. It almost made her tempted to "check". For scientific purposes.)

Once she was sure that the Royal Couple had been introduced to the Prince and his bodyguard, she decided it was time for a closer look. While it wasn't strictly appropriate to introduce herself so soon, they all had such interesting facial expressions she couldn't resist. Besides, when had she ever let decorum interfere with her sublime quest for knowledge?

She took her time with her approach, taking in the way the Prince moved with every word he spoke, covering his mouth with his hand as he laughed and made eyes at the young king. Yuuri was oblivious as usual, too busy stealing glances at Wolfram to notice. Conead and the Bodyguard were still sizing each other up, both too stubborn to speak first.

Gwendal noticed her approach and his eyes hardened, but he made no move to signal her to turn around. Perhaps he'd learned to let her have her way by now. That, or she was just was just the ingredient he needed to see what happened when the dust went up.

She smiled patently when she arrived at the edge of their little gathering, waiting for Wolfram to subtly brush the back of his fiancé's hand with his, reminding their King that now that he had been introduced to foreign royalty it was is responsibility as the one with the highest rank to introduce her.

"Ah, Anissina." The young king drew himself up into a mask of formality and addressed the Prince. "Prince Saralegui, let me introduce Lady Anissina von Karbelnikoff. Lady Anissina, it is my honor to introduce Prince Saralegui of Shou Shimeron."

Anissina curtsied and waited for the Prince to address her.

"His" Majesty smiled with his lips, the corners twitching up on both sides. "Lady Anissina." He nodded slightly.

"The pleasure is mine, Your Majesty." Anissina curtsied again, but while her head was lowered she noticed Wolfram's fists shaking by his sides. Odd. When she was upright again she studied him with her peripheral vision.

"Ara! Such formalities! Gwendal dear, you shouldn't make everything so stringent," Cheri's voice rang out.

Anissina used the distraction to her advantage and studied her Little Loafer. His face was a mask of normalcy, but the tips of his hair were damp, forehead shining slightly in the light. Normally, even when he was trying to walk the line of decorum, the boy Wolf would have said something about the way the foreign Prince batted his lashes at his fiancé. Refreshingly, His Majesty seemed to notice something was wrong and kept trying to be subtle about trying to grab his attention, eyes apologetic.

Maybe they needed some time?

Anissina grinned, and spoke over Cheri's high voice as the other woman went on about the Prince's fine hair. "Gwendal, don't think your stalling is going to work!"

Gwendal's left eye began to twitch and the lines in his forehead deepened.

Before he could say anything she continued, eyes alight. "You've owed me a dance for ages and if His Majesty doesn't start the festivities this is going to be a very boring formal." She stepped forward and pulled lightly at his arm for effect, enjoying the shocked faces of her companions. "I'm sure everyone agrees?"

Surprisingly, it was His Majesty who responded first, grabbing hold of Wolfram and tugging him toward the dance floor. "Great idea, Anissina! We shouldn't keep everyone waiting-- Please excuse us!" And then both of them were gone, weaving their way through the crowd to formally begin this whole affair.

The Prince watched them leave, completely still for the first time. She could have sworn she saw pity in his gray eyes, before that strange amusement bubbled back to the surface.

She felt her eyes narrow in suspicion for half a moment before Sir Weller followed the Royal Couple, the ever-vigilant shadow.

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Wolfram let Yuuri drag him onto the dance floor, relishing in his fiancé's possessive hold on his arm. It was also good because it meant he didn't have to pay attention to where he was going.

There were twelve lights. He could feel them. Fluttering blue extensions of himself scattered throughout the room.

It was never like this. Summoning flame was something he could do without thinking, almost like catching something before you realize you've knocked it off a table. Sure, if he was changing the shape or color there was some concentration required... But it was never like this. His entire body ached as if every inch of muscle was over-used, torn from exertion.

This shouldn't be happening! He had actually practiced, for goodness sake!

Last night after he had stormed out-- After Yuuri-- Wolfram's breath hitched and he could feel his flames flicker for the briefest of moments. He couldn't think about that now. If he did, then the flames would go out and he would humiliate himself in front of everyone, in front of that Pervert Prince who kept making eyes-- Wolfram had to stop thinking about that too.

He let his awareness focus, let the background fade and watched Yuuri's fingers grip his shirt. Last night Wolfram had needed to settle his mind after Certain Incidents and he had crept into the darkened ballroom to calm down, sitting against a wall and letting his power flow, casting the room in blue until a comforting warmth seeped over him. He just couldn't bring himself to go back to that bedroom, to have the conversation where the Wimp begged him to pretend it never happened, that Yuuri hadn't--

Wolfram must have made a noise to betray the sudden stab of agony that spread from deep in his gut to the tips of his toes, because Yuuri stopped and turned to face him with worried eyes. He tensed. This was stupid. He had control over this!

It only took a moment for him to realize it was time for their dance to start. Yuuri held out a practiced hand and Wolfram took it, stepping into their routine with a shuddered exhale of relief. He could do this. Dancing was easy. Yuuri was warm, and as the music started he let his worries fade, just letting himself enjoy that kernel of hope that last night had been the true beginning of more dances like this. Dances where Yuuri's hand was comforting on his back and Yuuri's dark eyes were on him like Wolfram was the only thing that mattered.

"Are you alright?" Yuuri's breath was at his ear, voice soft and almost lost in the swell of the band.

Wolfram let his thumb rub a lazy circle against his Wimp's shoulder. "I'm fine," he managed, because in that moment it was true.

Yuuri's brow furrowed. "It's-- I'm-- Wolfram-- It's so hard to talk about it, but--"

"Not now..." he breathed, letting his eyes slide shut while Yuuri led him around the dance floor. "We'll have plenty of time tonight."

His Wimp must have given in because he didn't speak again. Wolfram kept his eyes closed. It was easier to focus this way. To make his muscles move despite this ache, and to keep the room awash with blue. Yes. He could do this. The song was long, meant to only be theirs for the first minute before the other couples joined in. Yuuri was solid in his arms and if he could just keep focused for the next few hours he could return to their bedroom and fall into blissful unconsciousness.

Yuuri's step wavered, just a bit, and Wolfram felt a hand fall on his shoulder. He opened his eyes to see Yuuri's concerned features looking past him, "Wha--"

"Forgive me, Sir Belefield, but do you mind if I steal him?" Prince Pervert cooed from beside him.

Yuuri looked like he was about to refuse, but Wolfram stopped him. It was so difficult, not to give in to that burning desire to draw his sword and mess up that girly face, but Gwendal would never forgive him. Besides, they still didn't know what was going on with Shimeron and the sickness, and it wouldn't due to make an enemy so soon into this little political endeavor. The Prince was much higher rank anyway, so it was Wolfram's place to let him have the dance and-- And if he thought anymore he was sure he was going to pass out.

And if he passed out he wouldn't be able to look after his Wimp.

So he tried to look reassuring and made eye contact with Yuuri before stepping aside.

"You're so accommodating!" The Prince squealed in delight before moving to take his place in Yuuri's arms. Then something cold-- Against his hand. Wolfram stared down at the utensil clutched in his slightly trembling fist.

"Three prongs to represent...".

Blood rushed in his ears, loud and pounding even over the music. By the time he looked up , Yuuri was spinning away from him, awkward and ravishing as ever. The crowd of swirling partners seemed to contract around him, swallowing him up as if he were never there. His heart hummed in his chest and the edges of his vision slid into darkness. This means...

No.

He snapped his eyes back into focus, looking for something familiar in this madness. It was hard to breath. There were twelve lights... Gwendal's face looking at him from the crowd. Pity. Disappointment.

Wolfram cursed himself, harsh words bouncing off the inside of his skull. He was so stupid. There were warnings. Gwendal had tried to...

Gwendal knew. He let this happen... No. Wolfram stopped himself. This was all his own fault. He had been too absorbed, too blind to see it. And he was FURIOUS.

Anger boiled within him and he almost fell. Vision going into points as his mind seemed to float behind his actions. There were twelve lights.

Damn it!

He had to do something, but he couldn't stop it. The Prince was higher rank... it had been over two years... Wolfram almost ran into the buffet table in his hurry to leave the dance floor. The punch swirled dangerously in its container, liquid nearly spilling over the top. Punch bowls. Frogs. Greta...

He had to find her! She couldn't see... He turned around, bracing himself on the table and ignoring the rude stares his abrupt motion earned him. His daughter was nowhere in sight but there, to his right, just a few steps away... Wolfram drew himself up, forcing each footstep until he was close enough to speak without drawing too much attention to the inevitable shake in his voice. "Anissina..."

Her tight features melted into concern when she saw him and she reached out. "Wolf--"

Wolfram jerked his arm away. Too hot. Can't touch... "Greta. Find her. Take her out. Now." He could tell by her face that she was going to say something, argue, waste time. "Please."

Anissina nodded, comprehension dawning in her worried eyes, and she hurried off into the crowd.

Wolfram let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. There were twelve lights.

The song was almost finished. In a daze Wolfram wandered through the guests, only stopping when he was close enough to watch him. His Wimp. His Yuuri. Soon to be...

"Wolfram." Conrad's voice, coming from behind.

Wolfram didn't turn, couldn't look away. Everything was so empty. Inside him... Lights.

When Conrad put a hand on his shoulder,Wolfram didn't protest. Weller was here. Looking after Yuuri too. Something about that knowledge made him even more tired and he felt like he was only standing by a single thread, taut in his chest and balancing him on locked knees. Almost familiar...

Conrad was warm behind him, pity oozing from every unseen motion. "I'm sorry."

Wolfram laughed, but it sounded like a choked sob.

Then Wolfram watched numbly as the Prince's right hand connected with his fiancé's left cheek, the crack of sound ringing in his ears as the wave of whispers spread among the guests. The world fell away, there was the ceiling, strong arms, empty...

Twelve lights went out.

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AN: Thank Everyone so much for reading this! I'm sorry for the cliffhanger but chapter 3 and 4 are very intertwined and so by the end of the next chapter you should have a very good idea of what's going on. Please don't hate me//hides//

A Technical Note: I know there are a lot of technical issues with the previous chapters, but have been afraid to upload new documents with the fear that all of the awesome people who do have me on 'update alert' will get messages for that, and I didn't want to be a tease. So this is a warning that in the next few days I will probably be going back and putting a few spaces between periods and breaking up scenes with 'x' instead of those annoying lines gives you.

Comments: I am forever annoyed with the system for receiving and responding to reviews here. When I reply to you, it goes off into space and I have no idea if you ever got it. Which is really really sad because I love you so much. //hugs//

So I'll respond to reviews here:

Maeleene-//is forced to sit on hands lest she give away too much// Seriously. You just... and I want to say... but I can't... //explodes// Thankyou so much for your insightful and thoughtful review.

Tati-ai- "but if Yuuri wants to find out if kissing Wolfram feels bad or not, he should really just go ahead and try for himself."

Well... Yuuri tried it//grins// Thank you so much for reviewing//hugs//

Rivana- Thanks so much for your lovely comment. I do try to make the story serious and I'm glad you appreciated it!

phantome101- I also find Greta adorable, and the disease terrible Though fun in a //I feel so clever// sort of way. Thank you for reviewing!

Yuuram88- The family moment was so fun to write! I'm happy you enjoyed it! And Gwendal is harsh, but only because he loves. Thanks for reviewing!

Naokiru Michiyuki- Yuuri is so innocent//and fun to bother XD// Sorry I made you wait so long for this chapter! Thank you for taking the time to review the last one!

Clara- I hope this chapter explained some things about where the story is going, but I know it probably raised a lot more questions. The next chapter will explain a lot so I hope you'll bear with me. Thank you for your lovely review!

Christine- I'm sorry I made you wait so long for this chapter//Was it worth it?// Ohh and as you probably figured by now 'creepy guy' Marques is not Reyes, Wouldn't that have been an interesting twist though? Ohh, and never worry about me not updating, it might take a month or two... but this story eats my brain and I have to let it out. Thank you so much for your sweet review!

Wang- Were the dancing lessons satisfying//wink// I'll never ever give up on this story, it just takes me a long time to put out chapters because, well, they're long and I put a lot of effort into them. My beta does too, without her I would be lost. Thank you so much for taking the time to review!

flacedice- I don't even know where to start. That was the most comprehensive and amazing review I think I've ever gotten. It's so wonderful to get the complete opinions of someone who is reading the story but who doesn't know where it's going. A review like that tells me if that random detail was worth it, if that joke was funny, or if I was unclear about plot direction. (It also tells me which 'fake' plot directions are worth keeping up //grins//)

Just... Wow. I love you so much I don't even know! After the one before this you became well renound between my beta and myself, and when I saw this one I had to call her and be all: "omg flacedice reviewed again and and //sputter of joy//"

On the other hand, I don't want you to feel pressured to keep writing them... but I love them, and they're awesome... and and... //dies//

Ohh and the technical stuff is what happens when you copy paste a googledoc without checking... I really should be more patient when I post...It's so easy to get caught up in the rush of "it's finished! must share!"

You can never NEVER go overboard in a review. Just. YOU ARE FULL OF WIN. //hugs//

I must have given you a lot to think about with this chapter, but rest assured the next chapter is all about explinations. (In all honesty, chapter 3 and 4 could have done together, but then it would have just been too massive) //hugs more//

HeatherR- Thank you for the awesome review//grins// I hope the story is still 'interesting' but not too confusing. Most of the threads have been started and will soon be made clear. Hope you liked this chapter!

Goddess Kes- I'm so glad you've been reviewing! Sorry I'm so slow!

AN: I'm pretty sure that's everyone! So sorry if you reviewed to the last chapter and I didn't address it here, if you point it out to me I'll be sure to respond. //hugs everyone//