Chapter 21

"So, it's true," Gwendal said, sitting behind his desk with his hands gripping the armrests until his knuckles turned white, "Marelda Meiger was Wolfram's father's concubine."

"It appears so." Günter said apologetically and placed the open book on Gwendal's desk. "I can show you the places where she's mentioned." He gestured to various paragraphs hand written in different shades of blue and black ink in a cruel, tiny scrawl.

At that Gwendal shook his head "no" because he didn't want to see it for himself. If he did, his temper would go through the roof. And, at this moment, he needed to think clearly.

"In this journal, Wolfram's father was fairly…ummm… How should one accurately describe it? …Ummm…"explicit"…in his descriptions," Günter continued. "He listed everything about her from her hair color to her oracle wielder skills—which he took full advantage of—to the birthmark on her right buttock." Günter felt a little sick when he mentioned her derriere. He took a cleansing breath.

Gwendal raised an eyebrow at that. "Exactly how did he take advantage of Marelda's oracle wielder skills?"

The advisor picked up the book off of the table and turned pages—opening it to a place where he kept a purple bookmark. He had been certain that Gwendal was going to ask that question. "It says here that the…ahem…"woman" saw in a dream that he was going to meet his--and I quote--'sweet Cecile-poo' at a gathering of nobles for the Lady Catherine von Voltaire wedding to Lord John Applegate.

For a second, Gwendal's memory flashed back to his mother dragging him off in an outfit of silk, short breeches and a frilly long sleeved top to that wedding because Catherine was a distant relative of his. Then again, even in her wedding gown, Catherine was, in Gwendal's opinion because he loved cute things even in childhood—an absolute cow. Bovine, definitely bovine. Yozak, on his worst day, would have made a much prettier bride.

"So, that's how Wolfram's father met his mother."

Günter sniped, "It also means that Marelda had been with the elder von Bielefeld and acted as his concubine long before his wedding to Lady 'sweet Cecile-poo.'

Gwendal shot Günter a sharp look for referring to his mother in such a way.

"Oh, yes… Terribly rude. My apologies."

"Moving on," Gwendal said and looked up into Günter's face again, "is there anything else in there that can help us?"

A puff of dust flew up. He rubbed the edge of his nose and then went back to thumbing through the pages. "It's really less of a journal and more of a…confessional," the advisor said with more than a little distain. "Ummm….Let's see…. He's romancing more than two women within the castle walls. Of course, the Demon Queen outranks them all, but he just can't keep his hands to himself. And Marelda is getting more and more difficult control once he moves her into the castle." The Günter flipped more pages, not caring if he tore them now. "Oh, I missed this part." His eyes got wide. "She met Wolfram."

"What?!" Gwendal half stood up from his seat.

"The journal says, 'And I could not believe my eyes when I saw my lady love, Marelda, talking to my young son, Wolfram, near the stables. While it was impossible for me to hear their conversation, I realized that it was far too dangerous to allow this kind of interaction to continue. I will insist that they never meet again, or Marelda will face the consequences."

Günter squinted at the page. "Apparently, some of the castle maids, who were 'in the know' were appalled that the two should come across each other—even innocently—and the rumors started flying after that." Günter turned more pages. "The worst one being that Wolfram would eventually become engaged to Marelda when he came of age."

"Repulsive," Gwendal breathed with a shudder quickly following, "but, thankfully, that never happened."

"True," his companion said, "but it was outlandish enough for whispers to reach the Demon Queen. And when she questioned Wolfram about meeting the woman…"

"He didn't deny it," Gwendal finished for him.

"Correct."

"And then, Marelda got kicked out of the castle along with that lying, cheating rat…"

"Absolutely," Günter said and closed the book.

"Rock. Paper. Scissors!"

"You lose, Yozak," Conrad said with slight amusement. His rock smashed the spy's scissors. "So, that means that I will follow the group of ruffians before they get too far ahead of me."

Conrad was glad that he'd won. He was the better swordsman. If he got caught, he could probably fight his way out. Though, inside, he knew that his companion wanted the job of following the band of men. It would be an easy task and would give him a chance to survey the area. Plus, the orange haired man didn't like being in one place too long. And that was a fact.

"As you say…," Yozak returned unenthusiastically. "I'll watch the house for more signs of life. And, tonight, I'll see if I can sneak up on the open windows and listen in on a few things. I'll send another report to Gwendal, too." He rested his hands on his hips and sighed.

"Good." It was followed by a nod from Conrad, which was all the spy really needed—not that it made him feel any better.

Brown eyes suddenly narrowed as a warning. "Just stay safe."

"Agreed. Same to you."

He'll be leaving now. Drat.

There was a heavy aura between them. And it wasn't as though they hadn't felt it before. They had. Yozak gave himself a mental slap. This was all getting too serious. And this spy mission was fairly simple right now. Then, Yozak's face broke into a free and easy smile. He opened his arms with a happy gesture. "Stay safe? Don't I always?" He cocked his head to one side and flashed pearly whites.

He got a mysterious smile in return. "You have a reckless streak in you, my friend." He began to walk back to his horse. The ride would probably be a long one—and a bit lonely.

"Oh, it's not all that bad," Yozak muttered in a tone of voice that said "Tag, you're it!" That got him a return glance and a playfully raised eyebrow in his direction. The other man stopped walking, too.

Now, it was Conrad's turn to be coy. "Do you want a serious answer to that?"

There was a brief chuckle coming from Yozak. "You're always serious."

"As I said before, just be careful."

"Yes, Mother," Yozak joked.

Conrad couldn't resist it. He chuckled back with his hands in his pockets now. "Don't be so eager to make me a part of your family. You've seen mine, you know. And, as they say, 'You don't marry a man. You marry his family'—or something to that effect." He scratched his head a little and tried to recall the exact quote from Earth.

"Ooh," Yozak quipped, "I'd have 'brother-in-law Gwendal'…" He frowned a little, imagining the look on the administrator's face at the news.

"Better yet," Conrad laughed, "try 'brother-in-law Wolfram.'" He watched the orange haired man's eyes bug out. It was fun.

"Well, I'm too young and beautiful to get married anyway," Yozak countered with a smirk. He flipped back his hair with one hand to emphasize his point.

At that, Conrad resumed his trek back to the horse. "Well, when you do get married, let me know. I'd love to come—if only to see if you'll be dressed as the bride or the groom."

He could hear Yozak laugh darkly. Even so, it felt good—reassuring. Conrad was certain that this whole conversation was just so that he wouldn't worry. Their partings were always hard, for some strange reason that they both couldn't define. So, over the years, they knew—they just knew—that leaving with a quip or a joke took the sting out of it.

Conrad continued to walk, resisting the urge to look back.

Then, a voice floating on the wind said, "I'll let you be the groom."

Wolfram was sitting in bed with the blankets pooled around his waist. He was still looking down at Yuuri, watching him sleep. How long he'd been doing that, he didn't really know nor did he care. Wolfram hugged the pillow in his arms a little tighter.

He would give himself this—this, last day—and would savor every moment of it.

No tears, he promised himself. Not that they'd change anything anyway.

After smudging his left eye with the heel of his hand, Wolfram leaned in and gave a soft kiss to Yuuri's cheek. The double black smirked, snored, and then gave the kissed spot a hearty scratch.

You just couldn't leave my kiss on you. Huh, Yuuri? Wolfram thought and blinked away tears. We were never meant to be anyway. I'm fire. You're water. We'd cancel each other out.

The blond touched a lock of Yuuri's hair, feeling the silky black strands with the tips of his fingers. It's good that this love is one sided. You won't suffer at all. And I'm glad.

The bed dipped a little when Wolfram got out of it. He went to the closet, picked out a blue uniform, and left to get ready for the day. He'd start with a bath.

The bedroom door opened and closed.

"Wolfram?" Yuuri said as more of a sigh.

Wearily, he sat up. The double black could see that he was alone in their room. He ruffled his hair and looked around, bleary eyed. "Wolfram?'

The Demon King shrugged to himself and flopped back down in the bed. "Must have gone to the bathroom or something." He stretched and then grabbed the blond's pillow. Wolfram will have to fight to get this back, he thought with a smile coming to him. Yuuri held it against his chest, lowered his head, and smelled something familiar. Sunflowers. The scent of sunflowers had returned to his bed. It felt safe and warm—just like him.

Out on the balcony, a Bad Omen bird sat on the railing and eyed Greta suspiciously. Determined now, the child quenched up her roundish face with her hands behind her back. The bird lifted his head. Greta lifted her head a little higher. Not to be outdone, the Bad Omen bird sat upright and put his beak in the air—trying to look big, imposing, intimidating.

"Gotcha!" Greta said, whipping the squirt gun from around her back and hitting the Bad Omen bird square in the breast with a blast of cold water.

Wet and angry, he flew off in a huff.

"Greta? Is the table set?" Sangria asked, bringing in the plates for what Yuuri liked to call "the breakfast meeting." And while it wasn't a tradition in their country, it was quickly becoming so. Gwendal quite liked the idea of getting a meal and business done at the same time.

"Yes!" Greta returned, "And I got that nasty old bird who likes to poop all over the rail gone, too." She was quite proud of herself.

"Good job!"

"So, did I help Daddy?" Her eyes shined at the prospect.

"Yes, you did," Sangria said back.

"But, I wish I could eat with Daddy today," she hinted with a small pout.

Sangria nodded. She had prepared herself for this. "Oh, that's too bad. I wanted you to eat with me."

"Really?"

"Yes. And I planned on us eating something special…"

"Like…?" Greta was on the hook. All Sangria had to do was reel her in.

"Cinnamon cake."

"Okay!" the child said and took Sangria by the hand. "I think we should have our own meeting in the kitchen along with tea and jam and butter."

"Of course. Of course," she said back and they swung their hands a little as they walked. "We can't let the men have all the fun."

"Right!"

"What's right?" Gwendal asked, coming in as they were going out.

"Oh," Sangria said with a bow, "breakfast is ready on the balcony." She gestured to an elaborate table set up with silver platters, beautiful plates and sporks, and linen napkins.

Gwendal grunted an approval and the girls left.

Gwendal, who was both a general and an administrator, liked the setup because he liked things in order, ship shape. He strolled casually onto the balcony. Still alone, he looked left and right before lifting a silver cover and peeking at the still sizzling pile of sausages underneath it. It smelled heavenly and made his mouth water. As long as the conversation stayed civil, he guessed that he'd probably enjoy this meal.

"Couldn't resist peeking?" Wolfram said, entering with a slight smile on his face. The blue uniform made his hair seem like spun gold in the early morning light.

"You're early," Gwendal replied dryly, noting his brother's sudden presence with some worry but trying to hide it. Wolfram preferred to be punctual—showing up exactly on time. The only thing worse than being too early was being too late.

"I suppose," the blond answered noncommittally.

Gwendal went to the railing, folded his arms on top of it, and leaned in. His back was to his little brother now. Sometimes, when Wolfram was little, looking away from him when speaking to him took the edge off. "Is there a problem?" He glanced down to see a very wet and angry Bad Omen bird sitting on a shrub preening himself. The bird shook his feathers, which immediately went "puff" and stuck up at all angles. Now, the feathered ball of crabbiness looked pissed off and ridiculous.

"You didn't answer me, Wolfram."

The blond walked a few paces to join Gwendal at the railing.

"And if I said 'yes'?" Green eyes looked dull.

"And if I said that I'm concerned?"

Wolfram clicked his tongue at that. "Then, I'd take back my 'yes' and go into hiding."

Gwendal turned to his brother with narrowed indigo eyes. "Don't talk like that. You've disappeared before. And it has always caused trouble."

Wolfram nodded. He knew that his older brother was right. Running away only made him look petty and childish, like he couldn't handle his own problems. The blond tilted his head down a little, trying to sort through his possible answers.

"It's Yuuri, isn't it?" Gwendal said flatly.

"Yes," the blond said, lifting his chin up at his brother. "Isn't it always?" His emerald eyes were shining with tears again.

"This was the very thing I did not want," he grumped with his arms folded against his chest.

"I know," Wolfram said, "that's why you and the Great Sage kept urging me to swallow my pride and to break the engagement with Yuuri." He took a shallow breath. "I know I told you that it would be a huge dishonor to my family name if I did it. And it would. How Yuuri can rule our country and totally disregard our traditions is beyond me. But, still…yes…if I called off the wedding, I would lose family honor. But, the truth is," and he stroked a finger right and left on the railing to distract himself, "the truth is…he's more than just an arranged marriage to me. He's more than a fiancé."

What seemed to be arms folded against his blue military jacket, suddenly shifted. Wolfram was hugging himself. "I love Yuuri, Gwendal."

Gwendal's eyes opened wide at the admission. He knew it. They all knew it. They had known for so long. But, still, it was a shock to see prideful Wolfram state plainly his love for the monarch.

"Yes, break the engagement. And, from my view point, you gave me that advice just yesterday—leave Yuuri. End this farce. Let us both be happy and…somehow…stay friends. I think that's what everyone wanted…," the blond said and leaned a little against his brother's shoulder, "everyone…but…me."

Indigo eyes shot to Wolfram again. "Yesterday? That's really how you see it?"

"Yes," Wolfram said, "but I also know that I was ill and that my body…changed." It changed back to a baby because of an accident in the lab. "But I have no memory of any of that." Wolfram scratched his head and thought, But those pieces of memory that Shinou left me with—oh wow. I got quite an education from those. He felt himself turning pink. Who knew that the original sage was so limber? And I'm not sure that even I could stay in that position for very long. How he kept from throwing his back out…especially with his leg at that angle? I guess using the olive oil helped a little, but…

"Wolfram? Wolfram!"

The blond's mind shot back to the present. "Sorry?"

"I said, "I want you to tell me again what you remember."

Green eyes slowly turned dull. "Before the arrow incident, it was the usual. I chased Yuuri through the castle because he was flirting with that pretty new maid with the pink and white hair."

"Oh, yes. Her." Gwendal nodded in agreement. He'd seen the girl and she was quite a looker.

"Of course, Yuuri hadn't really done anything. I called him 'cheater,' but I knew that he wasn't. I just hated being second place in his heart."

"Wolfram…" his brother said, "I had no idea you felt that way. I just thought…"

"…That I really believed the 'cheater' and 'wimp' lines…?" He smiled sadly at the thought. "I haven't meant those words for a really long time." Wolfram smiled up sadly at Gwendal. His eyes were full of tears again. At that, he felt a strong arm around his shoulders, pulling him in. And, for a second, it felt like he was a little kid again—going to his big brother with his problems, if only to have someone else know what he was going through.

"Gwendal, the Yuuri that I've always known hates me somewhere deep down. He pulls back when I touch him. He ignores me when we have parties and dances. He's with everyone else but me. I was the one who insisted on being a second father to Greta. And, when he's gone to Earth, I'm the one who parents her. He just assumes that she'll be fine with us." Emerald eyes looked away again at the horizon when Gwendal released him from the hug. 'I've forced my way into his life, and I've insisted that I be a part of it. Every time I mention the wedding, he avoids it." The blond laughed a little bitterly at that.

"But, now…?" Gwendal said.

"Now, suddenly, Yuuri holds my hand. He speaks to me and actually listens. And, in bed…"

"I think I get the picture," Gwendal cut him off.

"No you don't," the blond said quietly. "He's exactly the same as before. He shrinks away at my touch. But, now, he forces himself to cuddle with me."

"He does…what?"

Emerald eyes softened now. "He pretends to care about me…out of pity." Wolfram scratched his head. "I must have been sick for a really long time. Maybe, it scared him—never seeing death before. Never losing a friend."

His older brother shook his head. What he'd seen of Yuuri and the younger Wolframs, there was definitely a spark there. No mistaking it. "It's not pity."

"It is…it really is…" The blond sighed. "And the sage was right. There is no way Yuuri would desire a male fiancé. So, I'm finally taking the advice that you and the sage kept giving me but that I was just too stubborn to accept."

The administrator started to say something. His mouth was open to do it, but he was at a loss for words.

"I'll give up on Yuuri. He deserves better than this. Better than me."

Gwendal shook his head. "Consider long and hard before you do this. Try to imagine Yuuri Heika in the arms of someone else."

Another bitter laugh. "That's all I can see." He leaned against his big brother one last time. "When that happens, will you still be with me, brother? I'm going to be on my own again—just like before Yuuri came to Shin Makoku."

Wolfram fought back a sob.

Tears. They made shimmering trails down.

"Teach me how to smile and be happy for him." Wolfram's voice was wet now. "If I can learn to lie like that, I'll be able to give everyone what they want."

The blond felt his brother's large hand on his shoulder.

"Yuuri doesn't need me to sleep in his bed to protect him. He has the powers of the maou now. He can defend himself better than anyone." I'm not necessary. "I hate this life," he continued miserably. "Maybe, it would have been kinder if I had not made it back with the arrow in me. But I needed to see him so badly, one last time—even if he didn't want me."

"Enough," Gwendal growled.

"R-Right…sorry," Wolfram said, and wiped his wet face with his hand.

The doorway leading to the oversized balcony was still open ajar. On the opposite side, Yuuri leaned against the wall with his arms folded and his chin tilted toward the ceiling. He had listened to almost the entire conversation. He had waited, initially, for them to have a break in the conversation so that he could walk in without making them feel uncomfortable. But, now, that could not be done. He was seething and knew that it would be impossible to hide it. A part of him felt fury, actual fury, for Murata and Gwendal for what they had done. It took every ounce of strength that he had left in him not to go into Maou Mode. He could feel his eyes threatening to change into dark black slits.

And this time, it wasn't castle gossip. It was true—all true.

Wolfram was going to leave him.