It shouldn't have come as any great surprise to Wolfram that things would be much more difficult in practice then they should need to be. Having sent their carriage back to Blood Pledge Castle at the beginning of their mission, they were more or less stranded in the Ackart manor until it was sent back for them, unless they decided to go on foot. It was not a welcome idea. To send a message for their ride and to then wait for the carriage to arrive would take several days though and Yuri and the others were due in only two. The quickest alternative of course was to wait for the royal entourage and return home with them at that time.

The long walk, in that case, seemed more and more appealing.

Yozak took it upon himself to reach the final verdict and to Wolfram's great displeasure, he went with the quickest course. There would be plenty of room within the caravan for two women heading to Shin Makoku and it couldn't hurt the king's image to agree to share his carriages with them.

The entourage was easy enough to assume. Conrad of course would be there, along with several of his guards. If Greta showed enough interest, it was easy to imagine her dressed nicely to meet the prospective additions to her family alongside her father. Gunter would come too, Wolfram figured. Gunter was a bride's toughest critic and he would feel it his duty to accompany Yuri and be sure everything met with his high expectations of what their King deserved and what the kingdom needed in their Queen.

That was to be his audience.

In the days leading up to the mazoku king's arrival, Frederick kept himself busy with the readying of stables and hiring of additional cooks to serve a welcoming feast to his guests. His smile never faltered, though it became much more sorrowful when aimed at Wolfram's disguised form. His pale blue eyes seemed to deepen in color and his brow would shift to give him an almost pitiful look of grieved acceptance. If love had a color, Wolfram imagined it would be the color of those eyes, which never blamed him for their sadness.

Emily, of course, had noticed the change in her brother's state immediately. The looks she cast him were full of contempt when Wolfram entered a room. Rather than call him on it, though, she would tend to her brother's happiness, averting Frederick attention to something charming she had thought of or ask him how the gardens were faring. Though it killed him to think it, Wolfram admired her for that. Her instincts were not to go for revenge, but to protect and comfort. She hated him for making her brother unhappy, that much was made abundantly clear. But she never gave Frederick a reason to defend "Jennifer" and in so doing make him belittle his heartbreak.

Why couldn't they have all been terrible people? It would have been so much easier to hate her because she was greedy and power hungry. Yes, she coddled Yuri and treated him like her own child, but maybe that's what Yuri liked. It was disgusting to watch, but his mother had been right: it seemed to make him happy. And in that way, what was wrong with Emily Ackart? If she loved Yuri the way she showed love to her family, Yuri would never be sad for long. She would protect his heart and be strong in his times of weakness, and heaven knew Yuri was no stranger to weakness.

Wolfram hung his head, standing in the pale yellow hallway before the gallery of portraits that led the way from one wing to the other. When he reported to Gwendel on his return, he would offer no reservations to the match. If Yuri wanted Lady Emily, so be it. It was, and always had been, his choice to make.

Turning towards the central staircase, Wolfram made his way down to the parlor, from which most of the signs of civilized life seemed to emanate these days. With the staff running madly to make the place immaculate in time for royalty, all bedrooms, kitchens, bathrooms and living areas were a crowded mess that were more noisy than most people had the patience to stand if given the option to leave. The parlor was left alone, though, once the piano was tuned and the liquor restocked. It was in there that Wolfram was sure he'd find Frederick sitting patiently with his glass half empty and his sister playfully describing her good times in the castle.

Upon entry though, Wolfram saw only Emily, sitting at the piano bench while she thumbed through pages of music to find just the right spot to practice. She turned when he entered and scowled slightly, but motioned him inside.

This wasn't good, he decided, but went over to stand beside her, anyway.

"I suppose I should thank you," she began.

Wolfram blinked at her in confusion then sat back against the back couch. "Thank me?"

"I don't mean to sound rude, but my brother deserves better than you."

That was perhaps the most honest thing he had heard all day. "You're right about that. I'm very sorry to have hurt him, though, all the same."

Emily gave a curt nod. "He's very special to me. I was there when he was born and, well... One day Frederick will make a lucky human woman very happy. He shouldn't be second to anyone. It's...disappointing to know you haven't always been first in someone's heart."

"Does it have to be a human woman?"

"Human either way." Emily began to play a soft melody. "I think it works best when two people are of the same race. Not to say there is anything wrong with mixed marriages, but there's such a gap there in life expectancies." She gave a private smile and continued. "My parents were mixed. I've seen what it's like to watch someone you love grow old so much faster than you. No matter how strong the love is, someone is left behind."

Wolfram nodded his head slightly. These were not new words to him. He'd sat down once when he was younger and tried to figure out how long his brother would live. At only one hundred and thirteen years old, Conrad had already lived almost a third of his life, whereas Wolfram was only thirty years younger and hadn't even lived a fifth of his own. If they both lived to be gray old men, Wolfram would outlive Conrad by almost two hundred years. It was a frightening reality and Wolfram didn't dare waste another sleepless night to see how long he'd be without Yuri.

"That's one of the reasons I love his majesty so much I think." Emily played on, a bit louder now and with more confidence. "Since we're both half-bloods, when we bury our children, we won't have such a long time to grieve before it's our turn. It's easier to be in the middle than one extreme or the other."

"Maybe. Is that one of the only reasons you love him?"

"Of course not. He's so gentle and kind. He reminds me of my brother, actually. A little more energetic and less polished, but they have the same heart."

Wolfram nodded again, finding no reason to disagree with her.

"You look like him, you know. Like Wolfram von Bielefeld."

"Oh..." He paused, thinking of something to say. "I met him, once. In Caloria. Before that, no one had ever told me I look like anyone. Since then though, and now that I'm so close to Shin Makoku, I hear it more and more. Is that a bad thing?"

Emily shrugged. "Not really. It's sort of weird, though. I'd been meaning to ask you, actually, if you'd not show yourself while our guests are here."

Wolfram clasped his hands under the bulge of his skirt. "Because they might take my presence as evidence of your brother's character?"

"No. Because you look like his Majesties ex-fiancé. Only you're a woman, which makes you a threat."

He found himself stunned again and leaned forward. "His Majesty called off that engagement, though. Why should I be a threat because I look like someone he didn't want?"

"Whether he admits it or not, he was very taken with him." Emily stopped playing for a moment and nervously thumbed through the pages of music again. "Every time he opens his mouth it's 'Wolfram this' and 'Wolfram that.' They were so close, it seems he can't tell a single story without finding some reason to mention him. And the fact that they even slept together and adopted a child together...sometimes I wonder if it's really over between them. I don't want to think that his Majesty is just playing games with me."

Wolfram felt his heart rate quicken and tried hard to swallow his hope. "Oh. He wouldn't be intentionally cruel to anyone, though."

"No, not intentionally. But he was engaged to Lord von Bielefeld for a long time. The maids told me there weren't any signs between them that things weren't going well. One day, they were together and the next they weren't." Emily turned to him. "What if he's just fickle and intends to do that to everyone he courts? Drag them along like he loves them and just drops them when he's had his fun?"

"Never."

"You don't know him like I do," Emily rebutted.

He wanted to argue that point with her, but found he couldn't. Not as Jennifer and certainly not as Wolfram, either. He wouldn't want to. Even if he had no factual reason to hate her, he'd love for Yuri to cast her aside. It was shallow and petty of him but he didn't care one bit. "You're just nervous for him to come, that's all. I'll be sure to stay out of the way, though, if it makes you happy." It certainly made Wolfram happy to have an excuse to not show himself to his friends and family.

"Thank you. I knew you'd understand, as one woman to another."

Wolfram forced a smile. "I understand you feel insecure. I don't want to add to that."

Emily cast him a dark look, then rose from the piano bench with renewed enthusiasm. "Freddy, dear, come on in. We were just having a chat. It's alright."

Wolfram turned to see Frederick lurking in the doorway. He was blushing slightly at having been caught and kept his head bowed as he came towards them. "I'm sorry if I've interrupted. I was hoping to find a quiet place to read."

"Not at all." Emily smiled at her brother with all the charm her faced possessed. "Have a seat. If it's too distracting, I don't have to play."

"I'll just read aloud to keep my place." He looked at Wolfram. "If you'd be so inclined, I could read this to you, Miss Jennifer. That is, if you've nothing else to see to or if you like stories or if you'd mind the company."

Wolfram nodded slightly, feeling more remorse than any great desire to sit and be read to. "That's fine. I'd love to."

Frederick's face lit up instantly and he offered his hand to guide Wolfram to the love seat. Normally, Wolfram's response was to ignore it or snap at him for treating him like a blind horse. This time, he took his arm and followed him to the suggested seat, though, making Frederick's mood all the more reminiscent of what it had been.

They sat as friends in the parlor that day, with music and fantasy filling the air. The days, which had seemed so long, now passed so quickly that they were barely remembered at all, only seen as flashes of cheer and sadness. When the busy day arrived, the whole world seemed to stop again and stretch itself out to fill in every corner of every second with hustle and bustle.

The royal entourage had arrived.