The muse is on a roll, so have another chapter. In which Conrart is an angsty baby and our favorite spy starts putting things together.
He waited until Yuuri fell asleep once more before he left. It galled him to do so, but they had been safe enough in the inn so far, and there were preparations he needed to make. Better to make them now. After all, Conrart Weller was no one interesting. There would be no one who would pay him much mind. He was just a half breed, after all. Yuuri, however, with his striking looks, would have garnered more attention. Even if his pursuers didn't catch sight of him, he would have been far more memorable. They were much less likely to be tracked if Conrart made the preparations.
Downstairs the wasn't quite deserted, still early enough that the tavern was crowded with people enjoying food and drink. Conrart made his way to the woman manning the desk, a smile he knew most people found charming forced across his features.
"Good evening," he said.
"Good evening, sir," the woman answered politely. She wasn't the one who had taken his money when he'd first come in, but her eyes had followed him as he'd come down the stairs, no doubt aware that he was a guest. "Is there anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable. Anything you or your companion require?"
"My 'companion'," Conrart said, the word curling around his tongue. He liked the way it felt in his mouth. Later, perhaps, they would pass as master and vassal, a role no doubt better suited to their stations. But for now, remaining hidden was key, and posing as lover would throw their pursuers off the trail. "He's exhausted," he said, offering the woman a grin just improper enough to be amusing without being too memorable. Enough to make her like him in the moment, but to forget him as soon as he walked away. "I'm going out to explore the town, but don't want him to worry if he wakes before I return. If he asks for me, would you ask him to stay here until I return?"
"Of course," the woman said with a warm smile, no doubt touched by his apparent thoughtfulness.
Conrart thanked her with a smile and a coin before making his way out of the inn, an air of casualness hanging badly on his frame. As soon as he was outside, he let his face set once more into it's natural apathetic state.
He had his own horse, but Yuuri would need a mount of his own if they were to make good time. The ride to Wincott would be three days at an easy pace. The memory of Yuuri's agonized expression told him that they didn't have that kind of time. They would need to trade horses along the way.
Conrart considered his purse with a frown. He had brought enough to provision himself for a leisurely trip to the estates, enjoying amusements along the way. But he wasn't certain it would be enough for what they needed now. With a sigh, he set the matter aside for consideration later. Right now he needed to focus on solving those problems he could.
There was a shop that offered the services of messenger pigeons nearby, and Conrart made his way their first. He would need to send word ahead to the Von Wincott estate, warning them of his arrival and the state of his charge. He also needed to be in touch with Yozak. His childhood friend had made his way through the army training at Conrart's side, but at Conrart's urging he'd accepted a posting more suited to his own talents. Namely in espionage. Still, he'd been making his own way, and the two had determined to meet up in a town known for its entertainment district as a farewell tour of sorts for the next few days.
Conrart would send the message there, knowing that it would find Yozak eventually. He knew he could count on his friend. Yozak would find the information, but he would have questions. Questions Conrart wasn't sure how to answer.
"Oh, someone's thinking hard," a familiar voice said beside him. Then a finger reached up to poke between his eyebrows. "Keep that up and you'll get wrinkles, Captain."
Conrart sighed, equal parts relieved and exasperated.
"Yozak."
"Conrart," Yozak said, a mocking lilt to his voice. His blue eyes were bright with mischief. "Business took less time than I thought. I figured I might run into you here. Thought we might as well travel together."
His eyes narrowed as he peered at Conrart, and he frowned.
"What is it? You seem more troubled than usual. Even for you."
"Not here," Conrart said, eyes studying their surroundings carefully. It didn't seem as if anyone were listening to them, but he couldn't be too careful. Not with how little he knew. "Is your horse rested?"
Yozak blinked once, but his expression was serious when he answered, no doubt picking up on Conrart's mood.
"Not mine. But I know where you can hire one."
"Go," Conrart said, pressing his money bag into his friend's hands. "Enough provisions for three days hard ride. Meet me here," Conrart said, scribbling the name of the inn onto the paper he'd intended for Yozak's message and passing it to his friend.
"Rodger," Yozak said. His eyes were full of questions, but his expression was serious. He knew when Conrart was being his friend, and when he was being an officer. And he was a good enough soldier not to ask questions.
Conrart called upon those bits of statesmanship that he had picked up from his brother's lessons in the early days when he crafted his letter. It wasn't often he used his status as the son of the Maou for anything, but time was of the essence. As much as he hated relying on them, if his family connections were what was needed to get Yuuri the treatment he needed, then Conrart would use them.
With a heavy sigh, he signed the letter as Lord Luttenberg, Second son of Her Majesty Cecile Von Stoffle and sealed it with the seal he kept on his person but refused to wear.
When his family had rejected him, Conrart had become determined to make his own way in the world. At sixteen, he'd made the decision to live as a Masoku. It was a decision he would abide by, no matter how difficult the trial. He would fight for the rights of those like him, and would forge his own path, blazing a trail that other half-Mazoku could follow.
Nowhere was the prejudice more rampant than amongst the privileged world Conrart had been born into. It had been a relief to leave it behind. After Wolfram...after his reaction, Conrart had hardened his heart and turned his back on all of it. He hadn't regretted it since. If anything, it felt as if a burden had been lifted. They could inflict no more hurts this way. After all, his tie in Blood Pledge Caste had only brought him pain.
But if those connections that had caused him so much pain could help Yuuri in any small way, then he would use them.
Resigned, Conrart folded his letter and tucked it into the pigeon's pouch before launching it into the sky.
"Fly swiftly," Conrart said.
He watched until the pigeon disappeared in the distance before he turned and made his way towards the inn once more. It was time to find some answers.
Yozak Gurrier sat in front of the fire at The Absent Hunter and considered the situation carefully.
He'd known Conrart Weller for nearly seventy years. In all that time, he'd seen his friend in all sorts of situations. He'd seen him angry, resigned, in mourning. Even happy on occasion, though those were growing rarer. Conrart was a noble brat, it was true. In every sense of the word. After all, you needed connections to become an officer. And even though he had a face that could scare crying children into silence, he was chivalrous. And when someone had offended his chivalric sensibilities, then it was best to turn and run the other way.
This was obviously one of those times. Yozak almost felt bad for whoever it was who had managed to cross his dour friend this time.
Still, there was something off about the situation. For all that Conrart up in arms about a perceived injustice was nothing new, there was an unfamiliar edge to it this time. It reminded Yozak a little of times in the palace when Wolfram would come running to his older brother for comfort. Protective, yes. But there was something else.
Conrart was worried. And a worried Conrart meant the situation was more serious than usual. Which mean that Yozak could kiss his plans for the next few days goodbye.
Yozak heaved a sigh.
"Jeeze, Conrart, you sure don't make it easy, do you?"
There wasn't much he could do until he knew more, something which grated on him. Yozak liked being the one with all the information, and not knowing things made him antsy. It had bitten him in the ass more than once.
A snippet of conversation caught his attention, and Yozak looked up. He'd kept half an ear on his surroundings, just in case. Letting the conversation wash over him, only tuning in if anything caught his interest. And the conversation at the desk certainly did that.
It had started when a young man had come down from the rooms upstairs. Late teens if he was human, and anywhere from there to sixty if he wasn't. Yozak wouldn't have paid his presence any mind if it wasn't for the way the innkeeper waved him over.
"Oh, sir!" she said.
The man winced, like someone who'd been caught doing something they shouldn't, and still Yozak hadn't paid him any mind. Trying to sneak out on his bill, maybe.
"Yes?" he said, giving the girl a nervous smile that was still warm.
"Your partner left a message for you."
"Conrad did?" the man said. It was that name that had grabbed Yozak's attention, and he adjusted himself so that he could better hear without being obvious about it.
"Yes. He said that he wanted to see the town, but asked that you stay here until you returned."
"Ah," the man said, a smile on his face. "Thank you! But I need to stretch my legs. I won't go far."
Liar. And a really terrible one at that. Still, the innkeeper didn't notice, too charmed by his awkward laugh. Yozak couldn't blame her. Not really. He was undeniably attractive, this wayward lamb of Conrart's. Handsome, with brown eyes and orange hair. His coloring didn't suit him.
His clothes too were ragged. Well made, obviously. But they'd been through the wringer, covered in dirt and dark smears Yozak was certain were blood, torn and cut in places.
Anyone who was paying any kind of attention would have seen them immediately, intrigued by the contrast. If the guy was trying to fly under the radar, he was doing a terrible job of it.
But this was the person who had Conrart in a tizzy, and that meant that Yozak couldn't just let him walk away. He could stop him, sure, but there was an opportunity here. One that would maybe give him some answers. So Yozak stood, threw some coins on the table, and made his way towards the door, keeping several people between him and the young man he was following.
It was easy to keep his distance in the streets, using the crowds of people still out and about at this time of night to keep the man within sight at all times. There was a determined expression on the kid's face, though it was twisted up in pain. Each step looked like it cost him something. Yozak was worried. If it looked like the kid was going to collapse, he'd make his move. But for now he would watch.
He kept his resolve until they got closer to the edge of town, and then he knew he had to step in. Kid was trying to run away without Conrart for some reason, and Yozak knew he couldn't let that happen.
"Oi, kiddo," he called.
The boy stiffened the way a child caught sneaking out might, and he turned around with a slightly sheepish expression on his face. But when he caught sight of Yozak, his entire face lit up, an expression of relieved delight making him practically shine.
"Yozak!" he cried in greeting. "Thank goodness!" he made his way over, a smile on his face, but as he grew closer he suddenly slowed, looking at Yozak in consternation.
Yozak knew that the expression on the kids' face was no doubt mirrored on his own. He wasn't anyone important. Not really. In fact, his work as a spy made his ability to blend in and not stick out imperative. To have been recognized by someone he'd never met before had thrown him through a loop.
The kid though...the kid looked like someone had taken his heart out of his chest and stepped on it right in front of him.
"You aren't him, are you?" he said, but his expression made it clear that he knew the answer.
God, if this was the way he'd looked at Conrart, no wonder the man was so twisted up in knots trying to figure out how to help him.
"Yozak Gurrier at your service," he said, pasting a ridiculous smile on his face as he affected an exaggerated bow. "So if that's who you were looking for, then you've found him."
"Gurrier who turns up at unexpected times in unexpected places, huh?" the boy said, a wry twist to his lips.
Yozak stared at him, mouth hanging open. That was the phrase. The one he said whenever he managed to sneak up on one of his friends, or was found somewhere he wasn't supposed to be. The only people who knew that phrase were ones he'd met before. And he'd never met this boy. So how did he know?
At the sight of his expression, the young man flushed brightly, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck as he laughed nervously.
"Sorry, sorry," he said, gesturing as if to wave off the words. "I don't know why I said that."
Yozak narrowed his eyes, but he set aside his suspicions for later. There were other more important answers he needed more.
"That's me. Unexpected time and unexpected places," Yozak said. "But what about you? Where are you going, kiddo?"
He gave Yozak a long look before his shoulders slumped, the fight going out of him.
"I need to get home," he said, clutching at something around his neck.
A pendant, maybe? All Yozak could really tell was that it was on a leather cord, and that it looked like it might be blue.
"Conrart asked you to stay in the Inn, right?" Yozak said, crossing his arms and raising a single eyebrow. "I know you want to get home, but he can help you. So why'd you take off?"
He closed his eyes, a humorless smile on his face.
"I'm tired of it," he said.
"Huh?"
He opened his eyes again, and when he did there was pain in them. The kind that was experienced only in the deepest part of the heart. Looking at him now, it was clear that he wasn't a boy. He'd seen too much for that.
"I'm tired of people getting hurt for me," he said. "Tired of leaving people behind while I run away to safety. I can't...I can't let anyone else get hurt for me. So I had to..."
He bit his lip, his eyes watering. He sniffed in a deep breath and rubbed at his eyes, a forced smile on his face.
"I'll be fine," he said. "I can take care of myself."
When he took his hand away, Yozak sucked in a breath through his teeth. One of the contacts he was wearing had fallen out, and staring back at him was an eye as black as night.
"It would hurt him, you know," Yozak said, focusing on the conversation at hand. "You running off without a word. That would hurt Conrad. You don't want that, right?"
It was true. Yozak was sure of that much. Conrart was too worried about the kid not to fly into a blind panic as soon as he found him missing.
"I know," the kid said with a sigh. "I know. But..."
"But?" Yozak asked, leaning against a nearby wall.
"I don't want to lie to him," he said softly. "Conrad. I've never been able to lie to him. And even now, when he doesn't know me...he still does. I don't want to hurt him by making him think I don't trust him."
It was crazy. But possible. He'd heard of Maryoku do crazier things. And there were artifacts that were known to do work like this.
"So then don't," Yozak said.
"Huh?" the boy said, looking up at him.
"Don't lie to him. Tell him the truth. I'm sure he can help. That's what friends do after all, isn't it? Even if one of them is from the future."
The expression on the man's face told him he'd gotten it right. His own freak out could wait until they were off the street. For now, it was time to get them back to the Inn, before Conrart figured out the kid was gone and tore the city apart looking for him.
"Come on," Yozak said, reaching out and putting an arm around the man's shoulder, equal parts reassuring and restraining. "Let's go find Conrart, and work on getting this sorted out."