A/N: Here you go kkm people. You're lucky I have a code geass fic to procrastinate on.
Chapter 8
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Sunlight shifted through the cracks in the walls. Charred and black, wood and stone lay in giant heaps and a single tower was all that remained of what used to be a magnificent castle. In the shadows, rats and other small rodents crept just out of sight, searching for food among the wreckage.
A cool wind blew across the leveled ground. Yozak shivered slightly, feeling that he should have thought to wear another layer. How silly of him to have forgotten how cold Big Shimaron could get by the end of the harvesting season. He looked toward the setting sun. He knew he had better finish up before it got too dark to see.
Rubble crumbled under his feet as he walked. He noticed that in the months since the fire, weeds and other plant life had sprung up in the absence of human presence. But Yozak knew that in a few short weeks, the plants would all die with the first frost.
His hands and the soles of his shoes were black and dirty from rummaging around in the abandoned ruins of the castle. He was looking for something, anything that might give him a clue as to what might have caused the ostentatious palace to burn to its foundation.
"If you're here to loot, then I'm afraid you wont be finding much." Yozak turned around. A human girl was walking toward him. She couldn't have been any older than fifteen, but she was richly dressed and bejeweled and spoke in a condescending voice. Upon looking closer he noticed that her clothes were, in fact, patched and frayed at the ends. Perhaps her family had come across hard times, perhaps it was the mark of fallen nobility.
"You filthy beggars defile the house of my father. Leave at once." She ordered haughtily, nose in the air. Yozak didn't leave. He continued to stare at her and slowly wiped the black soot off of his hands.
"Pardon me, Milady, but I was wondering if you happened to know what transpired here in this castle the night it went up in flames." Yozak said with his charming, humble smile that never failed to make a woman swoon.
"You're a Mazoku, aren't you." She said with a look of disgust, mingled with curiosity. Yozak blinked. Perhaps this girl wasn't as dim as she appeared. She took a few steps closer. "Sent to investigate, right? It's only obvious. No one else seems to question the story or the murder. It came at the perfect time didn't it? With us humans yearning to spill enemy blood, it only takes one death to set everything in motion. Only a Mazoku would have a stake in such an investigation…to prove that maybe, just maybe, the entire thing was set up."
"What do you know?" Yozak asked, his eyes narrowing. Her lips curled into a smile and he knew that she would not be telling him.
"Take me to your king." She demanded. Yozak knew he didn't have to put up with this. The act was over. It would be easy to torture her until she confessed everything that she knew. But he could see that underneath her hard exterior, she was a broken woman looking only to exchange valuable information for something as simple as protection. A better deal, from Yozak's perspective, at least for now.
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No man can escape his religion, thought Wolfram, not even a king. Slowly, he ascended the stairs to the enormous alter decked out in Shinou's honor, his long white cape trailing behind him. He got on his knees beside Yuuri, listening to the hushed whispers of the observers from their seats. The last time he had been in this room, he had been possessed by this very god's dark magic so that his heart could be stolen and used to open a box full of evil.
There was nothing that remained of that day now. Everyone else in the room would see the room as it was meant to be seen. The inside of a grand cathedral, lavish, with light spilling in from the stained glass windows and from the candles held in the hands of the priestesses. To them, Shinou's temple was a holy place. Only a few select residents of Covenant Castle that had been involved with the second coming of Soushu knew the truth about the Mazoku god. The public, and the rest of the aristocratic class, remained blissfully unaware. And that was why he and Yuuri were here today. To present themselves as a couple to Shinou so that no believer would question the validity of their marriage. Of course, there would be a larger ceremony back at the castle afterward, and later, an even larger reception to celebrate the king's wedding.
Wolfram listened as Yuuri recited his vows in a detached manner. Lies. To his country, he pledged eternal service. To his people, an heir. To Wolfram, he promised eternal love.
A stiff embrace, accompanied by a chaste kiss upon unwilling lips. The spectators rose to applaud. And just like that, Wolfram Von Bielefield became the second most powerful man in all of Shin Makoku.
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"I think you've had enough, Shibuya."
"Nonsense, Murata. Don't you know it's my wedding?" Yuuri slurred, draining another glass of wine. Wolfram shifted slightly in his chair, guilt already beginning to crush him as he listened to his husband and the Great Sage argue. He knew Yuuri was only drinking so that he would have an excuse to leave the party early.
Wolfram was able to survey the entire room from his seat at the high table. Nobles in their finest attire chatted, ate, and competed for attention on the dance floor. This was their natural environment. They seemed completely carefree, completely at ease with the world. How anticlimactic, thought Wolfram, absently watching the twirling skirts of the ladies engaged in a classic dance. He had dreamt of this day since childhood and somehow the excitement, the purity, and the innocence had all evaporated. To Wolfram, a generally cheerful event had been made into a nightmare. For Yuuri, it seemed to be nothing more than a chore.
Wolfram looked up when a hand entered his vision. Murata was bowing before him.
"Your Highness," the sage said, Wolfram's new title rolling off his tongue smoothly, "Would you be so kind as to honor me with a dance?" Wolfram gazed at Yuuri before taking Murata's outstretched hand. Yuuri didn't even glance at them. Wolfram wouldn't admit it, but his husband's apathy hurt.
"Hope you don't mind if I steal your better half for a while, Shibuya." Murata taunted. They walked away from the table with Wolfram wondering what it meant if someone held just their middle finger up.
"I'm afraid that I don't know this particular dance." Wolfram said. Murata removed his hand from Wolfram's shoulder and placed it on his waist.
"Then will you permit me to lead?" He asked, already taking Wolfram's other hand. Wolfram nodded. As they danced, he leaned in with a smirk on his face. "How are you feeling, these days?"
"Fine." Wolfram answered shortly, a blush creeping into his cheeks. The topic had been completely avoided until now so rumors would not be encouraged. It felt strange to be asked about it so calmly.
"Shibuya doesn't seem to be taking the news very well." Murata commented.
"Well it was a bit…unexpected… for him. It wasn't supposed to happen this way." Said Wolfram.
"I bet." Muttered the Great Sage. Wolfram was instantly on guard. Somehow the man seemed to know every detail of his life. Even the things that no one was supposed to know. Murata appeared to sense the suspicion. Suddenly, his smile brightened.
"Shibuya has nothing to complain about. He's gotten everything a king…a man could want. He just doesn't realize that people here would kill to wed someone as beautiful as you."
"You're too kind." Said Wolfram dryly. It was an automatic reaction to such complements. When the song finally ended, Murata didn't immediately let go of Wolfram's hand. He became serious again.
"Von Bielefield. I want you to know that if something ever happens, you can always come to me for help." He said it as if it came from the lips of a jealous man seeking an affair, but Wolfram knew that it had to be something deeper that he was referring to. The Great Sage was always one to be looking ahead.
"I'll keep that in mind."
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Yuuri was already fast asleep when Wolfram entered their room that night. If for some reason Yuuri had wanted to be intimate on the night of their wedding, Wolfram would have refused. Too much had happened between them to make things awkward. Too much was happening in the world for there to be any need for personal enjoyment. Instead of climbing in bed beside his new husband, Wolfram sat in the chair.
He did not feel worthy of his title anymore.
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Wolfram woke the next morning and found that someone had moved him from the chair and into the bed. Yuuri had left already. It was still early and the sun had yet to rise.
Everything was strangely quiet. The halls were empty, the breakfast room was empty, Gwendal's office was empty. The celebration of the night before had long since ended and the guests had either left or retired to the rooms that had been prepared for them. Wolfram had wandered to the other end of the castle before he finally heard voices around the corner. He stopped to listen.
" –and she's sure he had blonde hair. She may not be an eye-witness but this is the best lead we have." Came Yozak's voice. "All of my trips to Big Shimaron have yielded nothing until now."
"If she really is who she claims to be then we have no choice but believe her." Answered Conrad. Wolfram's heartbeat sped up. When their footsteps had grown faint, he stole a glance down the corridor and saw guards standing at one of the doors. He was able to distract them by setting the vase of flowers at the other end of the hall on fire.
He had already known what would be on the other side of the door. He had been foolish to think that he could commit a crime of such magnitude and escape unscathed. Making dealings with a shady organization, infiltration, impersonation, murder…How unwise of him to have already buried the past and already forgotten about the many loose ends that had never been tended to; many dangerous loose ends, not the least of which that sat before him.
She did not recognize him immediately. It was strange, considering that he was the man who had killed her father and torched her home. Eventually, her eyes did see past the longer hair and expressionless face, but before she could so much as scream, Wolfram's hands were around her neck, prepared to silence her forever. She struggled, but ultimately was no match for a Mazoku's strength. A feeling had overtaken Wolfram's mind. A feeling of desperation. Underneath his fingers he felt the trachea begin to crack. He wondered vaguely just how painful it must feel. When the woman finally went limp in his hands, he could only stand there, panting with his adrenaline racing like never before. Relief washed over him, as if he had just locked up the case that contained all of his darkest secrets.
Only that didn't last long either. A small noise was made from behind him and he turned around.
Yuuri was standing in the doorway.
Wolfram stopped breathing for a moment, his thoughts running rapid in an attempt to formulate a decent explanation for what had just occurred. Nothing came to mind. Too much time had already passed.
"You needn't have done that." Yuuri said quietly. "The moment she entered this castle, we knew…" He held up the tiny silver dagger, the one that was a birthday present from Gwendal. Rust colored blood still stained the blade. "…that it was you." Yuuri looked as if he couldn't believe what he was saying. Wolfram let go of the dead woman and turned to face his husband. He would do the king a favor and erase all of his doubts. The lie was over and Wolfram was tired.
"It was me." Wolfram agreed. "Wolfram von Bielefield is the murderer. He has betrayed his country and his king." He stepped closer to Yuuri. "What will you do with me?" Yuuri's face was set in a dismayed frown. He had been the fool. His arm lashed out and struck Wolfram across the face. Then, Yuuri grabbed him by the hair and shoved his head onto the table. Wolfram felt his nose begin to bleed.
"You're under arrest."
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Ever since the 27th demon king of Shin Makoku had ascended the throne, the castle dungeons had been devoid of human life. Yuuri wasn't the type to imprison or torture his enemies, at least not beneath the very floors he lived on. Nevertheless, the dungeons remained untouched from their use by Stoffel. They were as dark and uninviting as ever. A fitting place for a criminal whose crimes against the state should grant him nothing less than the death penalty.
Wolfram sat on the floor of his cell, huddled in on himself in an attempt to drive away the chill. The stone walls and ground offered little comfort for his aching body. He was still dressed in the clothes that he had worn on his wedding day, although he guessed that it had been at least forty-eight hours since he had first been incarcerated. His boots were scuffed, and his white ceremonial garments were gritty and covered in dirt stains.
There was a jingling of keys. Wolfram didn't bother to look up.
"Get up." It was Yuuri's voice.
"Am I to be killed?" wondered Wolfram aloud.
"No one outside the castle knows about what you've done and it's going to stay that way. Now, get up, the gates won't stay open for long." He answered. Wolfram raised his head enough to look at Yuuri.
"Why?" He asked.
"Don't get the wrong idea." Yuuri snarled. "I would just as soon watch you hang." There was silence for a moment as Yuuri collected himself. Wolfram slowly got to his feet. He had refused every meal offered to him while imprisoned and now his legs didn't seem to want to support him. Yuuri caught him before he could faint.
"Gwendal, Conrad, Cheri,…Greta," Yuuri breathed against Wolfram's hair. "They can't bear to see you die. I won't let it happen."
Wolfram didn't protest as Yuuri led him out of his cell and out of the dark keeps of Covenant Castle. It was the dead of night with a full moon shining high overhead. The autumn air was brisk. Leaves flitted across the ground of the courtyard in the strong wind. At the front gates, no guards were posted that night. Wolfram shivered in the cold. With some reluctance, Yuuri shed his coat and put it over Wolfram's small frame.
"This is as far as I can take you." Yuuri said. "You have to leave this place." Wolfram didn't say anything for a minute as he stared at Yuuri's moonlit figure.
"Have I ever told you that I love you?" Wolfram asked. Yuuri bit his lip and looked away.
"Wolfram, please-"
"Because I always will. Even something like this won't be able to change that." Wolfram continued softly. Yuuri grabbed Wolfram by his shoulders.
"Don't say those things now, Wolfram. I don't want to hear them." He demanded. Suddenly, Wolfram felt Yuuri's lips on his own. He closed his eyes, holding the kiss for as long as possible. He knew that it could very well be the last kiss he ever received from his beloved Yuuri. When they broke apart, Wolfram saw the tears sparkling on Yuuri's cheeks.
"I want you to forget about me, Wolfram." He choked. Carefully he removed the blue teardrop pendent from around his neck and placed it in Wolfram's palm. "Take this." He closed Wolfram's hand tightly around it and let go. "It's all I have to give you."
Wolfram found his words highly ironic for a king to say. He took in a deep breath and tied the necklace around his own neck. Then he turned his back on his king and began to walk along the long winding road that would take him away from the castle that he had called home for his entire life.
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A/N: Don't get used to this long of chapters.
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