Chapter 10
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"We're coming in," Conrad announced as he knocked on the Royal Bedroom door with Yozak chuckling behind him. All the way over, the orange haired spy was enthusiastic but also vastly amused which, Conrad had to admit to himself, was starting to annoy him. But, after all these years of tolerating Wolfram's passionate ire, Yozak's boyish glee was, in truth, nothing.
The pair entered, expecting no answer from Murata as the royal guards were still stationed outside and they were notorious for listening for any signs of trouble. Yes, "trouble," real or imagined.
The brown haired soldier stepped forward and Yozak, who still followed, closed the door behind them as quickly as he could without arousing suspicion from anyone in the hallway.
They found Murata with his back to them, tucking in his white shirt into Wolfram's blue military uniform trousers. He peered over his shoulder and didn't smile in that falsely inviting way that he normally would. Instead, he absently reached for the jacket, barely glanced at it with a sigh, and then dumped it back again onto the end of the bed. "I haven't been the 'soldier type' for many lifetimes," Murata said sourly. "And, in this one, I'd be more useful as a fortuneteller."
Murata's shoulders wanted to slump.
"Ah, but you'd be a handsome one," Yozak said with a wink and crossed his arms against his chest. "I can just see you in something dark purple or, maybe, blue with sparkles…oh, so dramatic."
A light flickered in his raven eyes. "With an earring…just here?" He pinched his ear.
"Oh, definitely," Yozak agreed, walking in his direction with the pretence of examining him further as a potential fortuneteller and noting the subtle signs that the sage was showing. Yozak had seen them all before while serving his duty and spending time with the soldiers of Shin Makoku. The sage was getting stir crazy in the room and needed distraction more than anything. And if he could have whisked the young Japanese man out of the room, he certainly would have.
Conrad watched the pair chat and flirt about sexy costumes, cards, magic crystals, and water mirrors. Murata actually imparted some interesting details based on his seventh life as a beefy, buxom, well-endowed seamstress and the clothes that were made for a local magician—an elderly human, no less—who wasn't very magical. But Murata was, he said, someone who seemed to have the "second sight"—knowing things from dreams just before they happened. And when a gang tore apart the town in search of the "warlock" who put on shows at the local fairs, Murata had already tied the magician up and dumped him on the first honey wagon heading out of town.
Yozak and Murata laughed.
If there was someone who could lift a person out of a dark mood, it was Yozak when he was really trying. That was another skill that attracted Conrad to Yozak.
He was about to join in the banter when his eyes caught something strange. He walked to the bed and noted the oddly shaped "Yuuri-Pillow." It was severely rumpled with somewhere between ten and twenty fist-sized dents in it.
He scratched his head. "This is…"
"Nothing to be concerned about," Murata said with a nervous laugh and a cheery motion of the hand to wave it off.
"Are…you sure?" the soldier asked, taking by the corner one of the pillows that had white goose feathers forced out of it at odd angles. In fact, now that he was this close up, it appeared that some of the smaller, thinner feathers were scattered across the bed and under the sheets. The maids were going to notice this, draw their own enthusiastic conclusions, and the rumors would run wild before the end of the day.
Murata glanced back sheepishly. "Oh, yeah…"
Yuuri sat straight as a rod with a tight feeling twisting in his stomach as the horse clomped along.
I'm such a wimp.
The first few minutes had been okay when he didn't dwell too much on what was going on—even though he'd had major misgivings and voiced them. And, admittedly, he had convinced himself he was absolutely fine mostly because he had no other choice in the matter now that they were on the road. And, maybe, he was fine…until he felt Wolfram's bare legs and thinly clothed chest brush up against him with the, supposed, swaying of the saddle.
But, then, it happened again.
Biting back a sound begging to escape from his throat, Yuuri gripped the reins tighter and encouraged his horse to trot a bit faster.
It wasn't enough. A warm thigh pressed against him.
He paled.
Home! Home! Home!
Was the ride back always this long?
Wolfram's voice laughed knowingly behind him in a way that seemed to say "You're in for it now."
The double black king took a shallow breath and held it for a beat. Distraction. Distraction was what he needed and not just him. "You know, I don't think this is a good idea. You wouldn't even let me send a messenger pigeon to the castle. So, they're going to be really surprised when you show up…Shinou." He added the "Shinou" part to let him know that he knew he was talking to The Original King and not Wolfram.
"Well, then, let's assume that everyone will be surprised to see me." There was a self-love in the tone that was totally alien to the Wolfram who existed now. But, it wasn't that far off from the way Wolfram spoke when they first met. To divert, Yuuri thought back on it. His first image of Wolfram came from looking up. He'd fallen off of his horse and suddenly there was a blond bishonen standing there, regarding him with distrust and distaste. The deep green eyes were angry, too, and fired up with disappointment—aimed at the person practically sprawled out before him.
That face… And nature, running the track it always did, would deem it logical to reflect back that same umbrage.
But I couldn't… He'd never truly despised Wolfram during those early days. Fought with him, "yes," but hated him, "no." But, at that point in their lives, Yuuri had to admit that had they been schoolmates or classmates, he would have avoided him. In fact, most people that he knew would have except those few who were fascinated with gaijin (外人 ) —seeing them as interesting but too loud, too independent, and never part of the group. Never equal.
Which would have been a pity, he reflected, because I would have missed out on someone special.
"What are you thinking about?" Wolfram's face popped up around Yuuri's right shoulder. He peered up mischievously, as though he could read the double black's private thoughts.
"It's nothing," Yuuri lied, trying to keep his voice as even as possible. But that, too, made him feel guilty. His memories and feelings for Wolfram were not nothing. His left hand with the golden ring tightened around the reins.
The blond's legs kicked back and forth—eventually becoming a light swinging motion. Yuuri, turning his head, caught a glance. The legs were slightly creamy in contrast to the stark, white robes he was still wearing. Then, Shinou hitched up one side and gave the inner thigh a thorough, manly scratch. "Can't wait to get back," Wolfram's voice murmured, obviously pleasured and the sound of nails roughing up against skin made Yuuri swallow hard. The next word might have been "itchy," but the double black shut his mind down for a second to block out anything else Wolfram's body was doing without his say-so.
Instead Yuuri switched the subject. "You could have taken a nap and changed clothes before we left. Do you realize Wolfram was exhausted?"
Shinou shook his head and, instead, smiled slightly. "Time to get back to the castle. I'm ready to see how this turns out."
"But, Wolfram's tired," Yuuri nagged in an irritated tone that his father always used with his mother when things were becoming unreasonable.
There was a brief pause and then "I can sleep once we arrive," came the voice from behind. There was a note of finality to it. Now, Yuuri wasn't sure if it was Wolfram or Shinou who was speaking. But he suspected that Shinou had made it sound that way on purpose.
"But, we're not there at the moment and we've got a ways to go just yet."
The double black could see the gates before them and he wasn't pleased at all to find people milling around and servants seemingly busy doing chores. The gentle murmur of their voices reached him and he groaned inwardly. He'd hoped to slip Shinou in unnoticed.
From the side, green eyes watched him and understood.
"Is that all that's bothering you?" Shinou asked, a smirk rising.
"I'm not bothered at all," he denied but the frown in his voice said otherwise.
"But, they'll see…"
"Eh?"
"They're going to see King Yuuri and his Prince Consort riding together…like this…" There was a lilt in Wolfram's voice and arms reached around Yuuri, fingers pressing into his chest—making a lazy, sensuous trail downward.
Ebon eyes widened in shock.
"Well?" Shinou asked.
Yuuri stopped the hands by placing one of his own over them. It just so happened to be the hand with the gold ring. "Quit it," he hissed.
Murata had already tried this trick with him earlier. It was becoming decidedly "unfunny" and he was grinding his back teeth before he knew it. His jaw would feel tight for the rest of the day.
"Fine," came the weary voice from behind, "but, at least, pretend that you're agreeable to being seen as a couple in front of your subjects."
Yuuri blinked at that as he passed through the gates with men and women suddenly bowing to him and others, new to the region, staring in wonder at the young king and the stunning young man in white riding closely, intimately on the same horse.
"Yuuri Heika and the Prince Consort!" an old servant shouted with her well-worn cane pointed in their direction.
The double black seemed to shrink back at the sudden attention.
"Seriously," Wolfram's voice whispered in his ear.
No…no…no… He could feel his face burn.
Now, this was just stupid. He'd had a wedding—a very public one—for goodness sake—and each large city held its own "official reception" for the locals to celebrate. "I'm always fine with being seen with Wolfram. So, don't start with me." He kept his voice low. Shinou was just causing trouble for him and he could feel the stress draining his psyche.
"Now, we both know that isn't true." A dark chuckle followed and a blond head rested on his shoulder affectionately. He gave a bashful glance to a tall Mazoku woman with a basket full of clean, folded clothes as they passed by. She blushed.
They passed a small group of gossiping servants. The sight of their king with his consort was adorable and the women couldn't help cooing at them as they clomped by.
Wolfram's arm raised slightly to wave back at a young Mazoku boy who'd dropped his bundle of firewood to wave, jumping into the air as he did so—distressing his mother by the unsightly "jumping jack" scene.
"You forget that I can see into Wolfram's memories," Shinou went on quietly so that only the two of them could hear.
The horse clomped a few steps as he processed it.
No, this was absolutely false. "Wolfram…overreacts sometimes," Yuuri explained, more to himself than to Shinou.
Now, there was a deeper, barking laugh followed by the words , "Fool, impressions are real. Do you think yours are the only ones that truly matter?" Then, he rubbed his blond locks into Yuuri's shoulder as a sign of fondness as they passed three of Wolfram's elite guard on break. The men, who had not seen their favorite commander in quite some time, stared back but with wide grins on their faces. Wolfram, dressed in white homespun with simple straw sandals that the shrine maidens typically wore, seemed more than content riding behind the maou. Once again their Yuuri Heika had worked a miracle. He'd tamed the shrew.
"Don't call me a 'fool,' Shinou," he hissed and felt a sudden thump to the shoulder as a warning.
"I am 'Wolfram,' remember?" he warned in a dangerous tone. "Call me nothing else or you endanger your husband's life."
This time, Yuuri would have none of it. "Endanger his life?!" he spat. "Leaving the temple endangered his life." He shook his head in disbelief. "I should never have gone along with this."
"Ah, but you did…" He leaned his head against Yuuri's shoulder as they neared the stables. "And, I think, you chose to go along with it because you miss my impossibly bratty descendant."
Yuuri lowered his head. "That's not entirely fair. Look, he's a good person. He's good to Greta and to me. He's loyal, brave, and kind. Wolfram would never betray me…as his king or as a person. He'd never hurt…"
Bored with the laundry list of positive attributes, Shinou rested the pale chin on Yuuri's shoulder, eyes searching the past and reflecting upon things long ago. What little bit of merriment that he had within faded. "Don't promise yourself that you'll never wound that special person by your side…the one who has sacrificed so much for you and has asked little to nothing in return."
Yuuri glowered and stopped the horse as a stable boy came running to them. He turned in the saddle to glare at the blond behind him. "Are you telling me that I can't do it? I can't keep him safe?" he asked testily.
Shinou glanced at the chestnut-haired Mazoku boy. He was listening in as all servants were known to do.
Oh, the drama. Servants just live for it, do they not?
Another stable hand joined them—looking a year or two younger than the double black and sporting lemon yellow hair with a thin rat tail braided down the back.
Yuuri jumped down from the horse, turned back, and blanched as Wolfram reached out a slender hand to his king to help steady himself as he swung a bare leg over.
The double black grasped the hand, fearing on some level that this unsteadiness was real—or it was truly Wolfram—and the fatigued blond would drop to the ground.
Yuuri helped Wolfram down and, feet upon the earth, the blond seemed to lose balance again. He fell forward into the double black's arms and then stubbornly righted himself, on his own unsteady legs once more.
"Royal Consort!" and "Prince Consort!" the servants shouted worriedly with glances at Yuuri to see his reaction.
A hand to his head, as though battling a headache, the young blond man said, "Yuuri, I don't feel well. I think I'm coming down with a cold."
Worried, the double black placed a palm against Wolfram's forehead. And, then, Yuuri saw them. One blue eye and one green.
A devilish smirk.
Rushed footsteps came from behind.
Another stable hand joined them with a profound bow and, realizing that they would not be alone for much longer, Yuuri placed what seemed to be a protective arm around Wolfram's shoulders and escorted him away. But his anger was still boiling with him under the surface. Confidentially, he gritted, "I'm not sure what you're playing at. But, Wolfram and I are working things out and I'm not going to hurt him or injure him or whatever you're implying."
Now away from the stables, the blond bishonen relaxed a little—moving from Yuuri's arm but still walking close, side by side. "The reaction you had when I offered you my hand…just to get down from a horse…told me all I needed to know." There was a slow blink. Emerald green eyes twinkled at him and the smile was almost cruel. "He embarrasses you. He knows it." Then, as the castle doors opened and people began to stream out of it in Yuuri's direction, Shinou added, "No wonder…he begged for death as a reward."
The color drained out of his face. People were around them, crowding and all talking at once—a sea of chattering, happy voices drowning out his thoughts and making them muddy. But what they couldn't stop him from saying was, "He did what?!"
Shinou winked at him once more and took his hand.
With purpose, Gwendal, Conrad, and Yozak walked quickly down the steps with an urgent pace from the castle and melted into the back of the growing, assembled group of well wishers—all wanting to see the royal couple together.
The double black's eyes grew darker and, for a second, Shinou almost thought he saw snake-like slits in Yuuri's eyes. "We are gonna talk later! You understand?" He jabbed a finger into Wolfram's shoulder and noted the blond backing down immediately. And he couldn't believe it when he saw the blond suddenly lowering his head in submission, turning his face away.
The group hushed straight away, shocked that their sunny and fun loving king would be so livid, so insistent when it was usually "Little Lord Brat" with the temper.
Yuuri shook his head angrily. I can't believe it. He's making people feel sorry for him! Um…I mean Wolfram. But, it's him, not Wolf! Turning on his heel, the double black walked briskly towards the castle and the people parted like The Red Sea. Yuuri fumed angrily to himself as he went on with his eyes catching the surprised looks on Gwendal, Conrad, and Yozak's faces.
Three steps behind him, Wolfram followed with his hands behind his back—looking solemn and alone.
Yuuri stopped and glanced angrily at the sky. "Come on," he growled lowly, but everyone could hear it. And, once they were gone, he was certain everyone would gossip about what just took place.
"Now!"
"But, I'll…step on your shadow," Wolfram's voice replied lowly.
"Now!"
A nod. Wolfram's steps increased until a hand reached out and grasped his painfully. The wince made the women standing near him fret. Maybe, they have difficult husbands, too, Shinou thought wryly.
The blond continued on, being forced forward.
Even the guards near the entrance felt for him but were powerless to do anything. They glanced to Gwendal.
Before Yuuri knew it, he and Wolfram had stepped into the drafty castle hand in hand. The grey stone floor echoed with Yuuri's angry footsteps and Wolfram's muffled, padded steps were out of sync.
They said nothing to each other until Shinou spotted a new maid who had just finished cleaning up one of the baths at the far end of the castle. Since he'd kept an eye on Blood Pledge Castle even though he no longer ruled the place, he made it his "mission" to follow the novice "lovelies" flitting about the castle until they got their footing. He thought of himself as a guardian angel for the servant class.
Yuuri glanced to the side, determined to get Shinou's attention and to tell him with his eyes that once they were in the bed chambers, they were going to have a discussion about Wolfram. Yes, a good glare would do it and would get Shinou to be—he hoped—submissive again. But, this time, it would be for good reason and not to damage his reputation as a new husband.
Wolfram's legs had slowed down to an ambling gait. And, now that Yuuri had taken a good look, he realized that Wolfram was smiling sweetly at the new girl. In fact, it was a beautiful, breathtaking smile—the kind only a bishonen in a manga could give with, possibly, twirling pink roses in the background. He tilted his head just so and the perfect rows of teeth peeked from soft, kissable lips.
Striking, innocent, and slightly vulnerable.
Yuuri's face formed into a deep frown with eyes narrowed threateningly. Oh, he's doing this on purpose just to slow us down! He doesn't want to talk right away. He just wants to make me squirm in anticipation! The jerk!
"Sh-!" and then he caught himself. Wolfram's head whipped in his direction, eyes opened in shock at the possibility that he'd be called "Shinou."
"Sorry…I…Ummm…" Wolfram's voice warbled and he made a slight gesture to the new girl who was staring worriedly at the monarch.
The king was mad. No doubt about it.
What had they done? Nothing.
"I just wanted to…" Wolfram's body turned to where it was upstaging the girl, as though from her viewpoint, protecting her. "I just wanted to say hello to her." There was a sexy, velvety note to that last word that got on Yuuri's last nerve. The triumphant smirk which followed pushed the point.
"Well, you're supposed to be with me!" Yuuri spat, a murderous look in his eyes now and Wolfram lowered his head again in submission as the clasped hands yanked the blond bishonen closer to the double black.
The girl took several steps backward, bumped into the wall, and then bent low in a bow to cover it all up. This was a horrible day!
Shinou cackled inwardly as Yuuri squeezed his hand and forced them down the hallway. The young king was walking, as any insulted man would, as though he had a stick up his butt—which was endlessly amusing from Shinou's perspective. And, when he didn't walk fast enough to keep up, Yuuri jerked his hand as a warning. Many maids scrambled to get out of the way and, in their hearts, felt deep sorrow for the blond spouse of the Mazoku king.
Who knew he would turn out to be that way?
With a glare to both guards at the bedroom door, he reached for the door handle. Once the men had backed away a few steps, he opened the door, practically crushed Wolfram's hand, and jerked the young blond man inside.
"In here!" Yuuri growled with gritted teeth. He was about to slam the door when he heard the distinct echo of Gwendal, Conrad, and Yozak approaching. They were a sight for sore eyes. He felt his anger melt—possibly from embarrassment over Wolfram and possibly because he'd deviated from the set plan. "Please come in," he moaned into his hand.
This day was really going to suck.
"Could you believe that marriage would change a man so much?" a kitchen servant said disappointedly, brushing crumbs off of her blue apron as she walked back to do her chores. Today was bread baking day and the loaves were filling the air with warm scents.
"I just can't understand it," the woman next to her agreed. "It makes me think twice about Jerold's offer to marry me."
The trio of Wolfram's men began to mutter darkly among themselves, heading for their quarters.
The small crew of gardeners, with their hoes and buckets, began to shuffle off. "Gee," sighed the pig-tailed gardener as she followed the aged Master Gardner back into the fields. The others with her murmured in agreement. And one of the stable boys turned to see his father who had arrived late. "Oi, Dad! Guess what!"
Lady Cheri had been standing with Dom and tolerating another boring discussion—this time, on the history of roasted chestnuts in holiday cooking—from Claus when the royal couple had returned. The ex-maou had never seen their king so livid. And his public display of antagonism and resentment of her youngest son heightened her modest sense of motherly concern. She frowned a little, marring her beautiful features and Dom gently tickled under her chin to cheer her up.
"Couples fight occasionally," Dom explained in a friendly way. "Especially newlyweds. Forgive them."
She nodded absently, still not understanding what her son could have done after all of these years that would set the double black off. Wolfram could be nagging, annoying, and, she was reluctant to admit, with his fire, a wee bit "strong willed." But, he loved Yuuri truly and stood up to him when he needed a good kick in the pants. However, this submissive, almost weak, blond young man simply couldn't be the son she raised. Lady Cheri had always feared somewhere deep down that one of her children would grow up to be a mouse and easily dominated by others. There was no place in Shin Makoku's courtly life for such a person. The effects of politics and social climbing could shatter even the stoutest of hearts. So, when Wolfram, her last child, turned out to be "Little Lord Brat" she knew he was safe from heartache. Or, at least, she thought he was until he fell in love with Yuuri. And, then, her worries returned but she kept those to herself.
Everyone deserves a broken heart and very few "first loves" ever last. It was a cold reality that Wolfram could not be spared.
Now, she was looking in the direction to where they went. Maybe, actually marrying the first person you ever wanted was not such a lucky thing after all. They were both so young and she knew that people changed over time.
She certainly did.
And that change was not necessarily for the better.
If this situation with Wolfram continued, she might have to step in and do something—something Wolfram would deem as humiliating, possibly. Lady Cheri was a loyal subject to Yuuri Heika and Shin Makoku. However, she had only one "Wolfram" and she would not lose a precious son no matter what. Almost losing Conrad in the war had taught her that.
"Lady Cheri?" Claus asked and then turned to Dom with concern. "I believe the lady could use some refreshing drinks in the shade. Shall we go?"
The blue haired escort shook his head "yes" while taking Lady Cheri's delicate arm and the trio changed direction.
"What, the hell, was going on out there?!" Gwendal fumed with a pulse throbbing on his temple. He was perilously close to losing his temper and causing an earthquake in the castle.
"That's exactly what I'd like to know!" Yuuri demanded as he turned to the smug blond standing behind him. "Do you think people are going to buy this pitiful act from you? Huh, Shinou? It's totally out of character for Wolfram." He approached the blond who was wearing a shameless, toothy smile—typical of The Original King when he was feeling challenged by a worthy opponent.
"Shinou, answer me!" Yuuri demanded, "That had to be the worst Wolfram impression I'd ever seen. Or, were you trying," he eyed the porcelain face before him, "to distract me from what you said earlier?"
Shinou stretched like a cat, arms over his head and then wide to the sides. The white robes rode a bit higher, showing a little of his thigh. Yuuri wasn't sure if he was doing that on purpose or not. He probably was.
"People will believe what they want to believe."
"That's no answer, Shinou," Murata said calmly from his place by the window. He had moved a comfortable chair over there a good ten minutes ago. The light was better. And, to pass the time, he'd been reading one of Wolfram's history books (and had been laughing outright at the historical inaccuracies).
Without turning his head, the blond seemed to sense the presence and bask in the glow of the soul, eyes closing briefly in bliss. "Hello…my sage…" He actually purred the greeting and Murata worked hard to suppress a shiver. He wanted to shake it away but found a tug at his soul instead. Just the words alone could do that.
Murata hated himself.
"What we saw out there was…" Yozak began, casting a thumb at the door.
"Embarrassing?" Shinou suggested but he wasn't interested in talking to the orange haired spy. Not really. He was walking casually in Murata's direction, guiding himself to what he wanted. "I was just making a point to…Yuuri Heika. I think he sees it now."
"That wasn't a point," Yuuri said, now feeling exasperated with too many conflicting feelings and too many people in the room.
Shinou stopped just before Murata. The young sage was still seated with the book resting in his lap. "I prefer you with black hair…my sage. Blond doesn't suit you." He smiled again but it didn't reach the green eyes. "And this place must be frightfully dull." With an over the top flourish, he gestured to the four walls.
"Oh, really?" Murata folded his arms defensively at the sweeping gesture. "And what makes you believe that?"
"Because when you read, you prefer to do it outside…under a tree." A faux sigh followed. "You always have."
There it was again—a tug at his soul. Murata gave an angry glance and tossed the book to the floor, immediately feeling naked without holding it.
"I'm sorry," Wolfram's voice said, "did I strike a nerve…or was I completely wrong? I could be, but I don't think so." Wolfram's face leaned in. With the unmistakable look of desire and determination in the eyes, Wolfram seemed much older and almost a carbon copy of Shinou's hallway portrait.
Now, The Original King was so close to Murata that no one could see the sage's face.
"Leave me alone." Murata mouthed the words to Shinou—who, callously, chose to disregard them.
"We'll talk later," The blond whispered and delighted in the look of vexation which followed. After all, who needs an irksome, middle aged wife when he had the same relationship with his young, beautiful sage—no matter the incarnation?
The blond shrugged casually and walked to the small, assembled group around Yuuri. Conrad and Gwendal were watching him with a sense of thinly masked anxiety. The spy was analyzing him, as was to be expected. All were in support of Yuuri—which was also to be expected. But he wondered vaguely how much sympathy in the room was aimed at Wolfram and the extent to which his reputation had changed with a single "stroll," as Shinou liked to think of it, into the castle.
Plucking up courage, Yuuri stepped forward and looked into the face of his husband. He knew that Wolfram was in there—somewhere—and that he owed him answers. Yuuri felt that Shinou owed him, too, for toying with him the way that he did.
"Now, that we're in here…just us…" His hands made fists. "Explain exactly why Wolfram would beg you for death!"
"He did what?!" Conrad said, appalled. He stepped to Yuuri's side, also wanting to know. This had to be a misunderstanding and a mortifying one once Wolfram came back. Conrad decided he'd help to sort it out now.
Gwendal moved to the young king's other side, hands firmly on his hips. Yes, this was the great Original King that they were facing down, but this now concerned his baby brother in a whole new way. And respect for a king would only go so far.
Shinou turned to Murata. "What? You're not joining them?"
"Do I need to?" the sage replied coldly from his chair.
Shinou directed himself to the bed, taking what he knew to be Wolfram's side out of respect. By all intents and purposes, he could have taken Yuuri's spot—as the first king of Shin Makoku and, admittedly, just to rub the young whelp's nose in it. However, Wolfram wouldn't care for it at all and the sage would take a dim view of the childish behavior. So, he chose the higher ground for this moment and accepted Wolfram's side of the bed.
Shinou stretched out and then blinked curiously. "Does this bed have pillows?"
Yuuri knitted his eyebrows when he noticed that Shinou was right. The pillows were missing. "Oi, what the…"
"Don't ask," Yozak said with a short shake of the head.
Conrad coughed into his fist with discomfort and Gwendal made a mental note to grill him over the topic later.
"Shinou, back to business." Yuuri approached the bed. "Why did Wolf ask you to kill him? Was he in that much pain?"
Wolfram suffering—abandoned and alone—a frail, convulsing body in Shinou's temple, that image, that picture in his mind, had been haunting him for days.
The blond man on the bed closed his eyes but continued to smile. "Each man's pain is different. And what can be avoided often isn't because we set ourselves up for failure." The blond's fingers were laced together and he rested his palms on his chest. "We are the authors of our own stories. So, we take up our chosen roles in the closing act of the play… and accept, humbly, the end which always comes in time."
"What?" Yuuri didn't get any of it, but Murata did.
"You showed him something…didn't you?" the sage commented brusquely, an elbow on his thigh and a cheek in his palm. He tried to appear bored out of his mind—which was a good enough acting job considering he'd had enough practice.
"I kept him…entertained."
There was a frustrated sigh coming from the sage as he stood. Shinou immediately smiled, eyes still closed.
"Based on what I know about Lord von Bielefeld," Murata said, thinking out loud, "you showed him some type of dream-vision regarding himself."
The Original King's smile faded a little and Murata inwardly cheered.
"…Something about himself…his pride, loyalty, sense of self…"
Shinou's face slackened a bit more.
Murata paced a few steps, scratching his chin in thought, and then stopped. "…Something about his relationship with Shibuya…maybe?" Murata was fishing there, but he knew he was on the right track. "…Involving a woman…?" Then, he smiled hard after reading Shinou's face. "Yes, you'd somehow drag a woman into the scenario…making him feel as though his choices were few." Onyx eyes drilled into Wolfram's soft, and not quite sleeping face. "…Yes, hardly any…and all self-seeking…"
Shinou yawned and turned on his side. "Are you sure you're talking about Wolfram and Yuuri Heika or…?"
That was it! Something inside of the sage snapped.
"I'd like to leave now," Murata told Yuuri abruptly as he reached into the closet for Wolfram's winter cubby bear hat. With force, he shoved all of his blond hair under it painfully and crammed his feet into an old pair of Wolfram's shoes as roughly as possible. "Once I'm back at the temple, I'm dying my hair to another color." He glanced at Shinou over his shoulder. The man was still in the same position as before. "And I might not necessarily dye it back to black!"
With a curt nod to the group, the sage opened the door. Gwendal made a motion with his eyes for Yozak to follow the sage back to the temple as escort. And, with that, the door quickly swung closed.
"What was that all about?" Yuuri asked Conrad and Gwendal. It was another one of Shinou and Murata's "non-fight" arguments which made no sense. All they could do was shake their heads at it.
"Nevertheless, it still didn't answer our question," Conrad prodded.
"I know," Shinou responded followed by a slight hum of contentment. The bed felt good and his borrowed body was craving rest. "But death…real or desired…is personal."
"Then why bring it up?" Yuuri wanted to know, still vexed.
Shinou could see in his mind's eye Wolfram in the form of a guardian angel forever shielding Yuuri's small son-to-be, Wolf-chan, with his glorious wings.
"Because, as you've just seen with our Great Sage, each man has his breaking point. And that goes for your husband, too." He rolled over and faced the opposite wall, wishing away the mental picture of Wolfram's desired future. Shinou didn't need to see it again. Protecting the living, he knew better than anyone, was a monumental—sometimes impossible—task. "And an honorable sacrifice is still a sacrifice."
Yuuri looked to Conrad with a feeling of helplessness. He wasn't getting anywhere with the ancient spirit.
"Besides," Shinou suggested before drifting off, "he may not even remember that he asked."
The double black shook his head. "That's a lie. If he asked, he meant it."