Kyou Kara Maou – Yuuri's Hot Date
Summary: Wolfram challenges Yuuri to have a date with a girl. Loosely part of my Epilogue story arc.
Disclaimer: I have no rights to Kyou Kara Maou of course.
Chapter 2 – The Morning After
No, Yuuri didn't have a decisive plan when he left Conrad and Yozak in the courtyard. His adrenaline surge simply bid him run away. But heading straight in to face Wolfram over breakfast with their children, heart hammering and palms sweating, struck Yuuri as going straight from the frying pan into the … fire user. Instead he stalked purposefully into his office, closed the door, and leaned his back on it, chest heaving, trying to calm down.
A plan. I need a plan. His face set in angry stone remembering his previous plan – groveling like always, after venting a little to compassionate Conrad. That was before my so-called beloved headed for the gay baths to score with as many men as he could find.
I need a plan to find a date. I will date a girl. Who knows. Maybe I'll even fall in love with someone who doesn't use me as an emotional whipping boy. Fancy that.
Yuuri wasn't prone to making up his mind lightly. He tended to keep an open mind until the last possible moment. Indeed, Wolfram had often quipped that Yuuri's mind was so wide open it was a wonder anything ever managed to lodge in it at all. Yet when Yuuri decided, he decided. With every fiber of his being, his whole heart and mind.
A girl. And not just any girl. I refuse to play Wolfram's game – I'm playing mine. I choose to date one girl, a girl I care about, a girl I want to kiss, someone I may want to do more than kiss. I may need more than one date before I find that girl. That's the way my parents explained it to me, and that's the way it should be.
How?
Damn. I never thought I'd miss having Cheri and Manfred around. This world's foremost experts at free love… No, they're Wolfram's parents. I wouldn't ask them even if they were here.
Gwendal's more clueless than I am. And he and Conrad are Wolfram's brothers. And Conrad and Yozak are lovers. Günter's single, but gay as summer fireflies. I don't want to talk about this with the women. Surely there are straight men in this castle?
Adelbert von Gratz. And Ted von Trondheim. So, OK, they're Manfred's bestest buddies. That means they're not Manfred but they probably know what he knows. Even better. OK. First objective: get advice about how to meet nice girls and ask them out on dates. And if it doesn't work here, then… I go home to Tokyo and ask Murata and Shouri to fix me up. Despite sketchy attendance at high school, Murata breezed into Wakeda University on the strength of his entrance exams. He and Giesela had an apartment there.
And Wolfram? Yuuri's face turned back to stone. His eyes fixed on a greater distance than the confines of his office would allow. His heart stopped pounding. And he found his center of calm, of cold certainty. Lord Wolfram von Bielenfeld is not my fiancé at present. He will do what he will do. And then he will pay whatever it costs him.
Thus Yuuri walked in to breakfast with his family in perfect icy calm, though he did give a sigh of relief when he saw that Wolfram wasn't there. He often wasn't – he liked to sleep in. "Good morning, everyone!" he said heartily, as usual setting an upbeat tone for the meal.
"Morning," came subdued responses from Greta, Efram, and the vastly pregnant Annissina. Clearly they'd heard the castle gossip already. Toddlers Bertram and Frieda played with their morning porridge elsewhere, and the other men usually just grabbed a Maou bun to eat at their desks. So they were the only three at breakfast.
"Lovely day," asserted Yuuri. "Greta, what plans do you have on this beautiful morning?" As he proceeded with his habitual setting of a positive tone to start the day, gradually everyone relaxed from the walking-on-eggshells atmosphere. Once upon a time, Yuuri would have remembered that it was Wolfram who'd instilled these habits into him. But not this morning.
As the conversation drifted into an eating lull, Annissina stepped in. "So, Greta, is your dress ordered for the ball?"
She knew it wasn't. Just before Yuuri entered, fifteen-year-old Greta was complaining that Wolfram forbade her to attend the ball, except as a kid in pants. She wanted a dress that would turn every head, and was sure that if Cheri were home, she'd have it. This was Annissina's little way of pointing out a window of opportunity.
Greta adored her Chichiue Wolfram. However, she was fifteen. And Yuuri had the spine of a jellyfish. No doubt he'd grovel to Wolfram and make up by lunchtime. So she grabbed the opportunity.
"No, Annissina! And I'm beginning to get so worried! Cheri normally buys me dresses, but I'm not even sure she knows about the ball. And time is running out! Yuuri? Would you take me to the dressmaker's instead? It would mean so much to me to have my father go with me to get my first real ball gown!" Big liquid brown eyes batted at him over a fetching smile.
"Ball?" asked Yuuri. Part of his open-mind strategy was paying no attention whatsoever to his desk calendar. He believed in facing each day fresh. He let his staff deal with the details. "What ball?"
Annissina leaned forward with an evil smile. "Oh, didn't you know? The Aristocrat's meeting opens with a ball this Friday evening."
"Ah, why?"
"Aldrich Lord Bielenfeld is brokering a marriage for Dougal Lord Donaghie's heir," explained Annissina. "The Aristocrats meeting is convenient – all the Lords are coming here anyway, and can bring their brightest prospects."
"What does she look like, anyway?" asked Efram.
"She?" asked Yuuri. Wolfram made him memorize all the heirs, but probably considered the genders obvious from the names. They weren't obvious to Yuuri.
"She," confirmed Annissina. "Lady Kieran von Donaghie turned 70 this year. Her Lord father wishes to betroth her and have the lucky man installed at Donagal now, to learn the ropes. Though the marriage can wait 30 years, of course." Mazoku generally disapproved of marriage before age 100, and seemed to take decades-long betrothals in stride – at least at the Aristocrat level. "It doesn't matter what she looks like, Efram," she added, with the primness of an idealist. It helped that she had no doubts about her own attractiveness.
Efram looked dejected. "That bad, huh? Chichiue and Tante Cheri do know about this ball, don't they?"
"I've sent letters to Cheri – it's anyone's guess when her mail will catch up to her," Annissina said with a wave of the hand. "Once she knows, I'm sure she'll be here as fast as she can. I believe Kieran's mother was Cheri's first cousin."
Efram's face brightened. "Yeah? Um, what does Lord Donaghie look like? I've never seen him." Oddly, Yuuri had never seen this particular one of the Eleven, either. He only sent proxies.
"Well," said Annissina judiciously, "I'm sure he looked a great deal better before he fell ill. He suffers… skin growths. Among other things. I'm not entirely sure he's going to live to see poor Kieran's wedding. That's part of the rush to get her safely betrothed, and her intended well versed on Donaghie's affairs. Lord Aldrich feels she's old enough now to begin negotiations."
Yuuri, amused by the way Efram blanched, couldn't help asking, "You seem awfully concerned about this, Efram?"
Efram looked like he was picturing 'skin growths' on the face. "Lord Aldrich wrote and told me to get a finest new suit fitted for the ball. I was hoping Chichiue would come home in time to… save me." Seeing that Yuuri still didn't get it, he explained. "Spare domain heirs are the top candidates, Yuuri. Bielenfeld borders Donaghie, my liege Lord Aldrich is brokering the marriage, I'm a spare heir… Chichiue or Wolfram would be better, but they're… spoken for."
"Aha! But you're way too young to get betrothed. Aren't you?" Efram was forty-seven – developmentally, Greta had outstripped him a year or so back, though he remained over 30 years ahead of her intellectually. The pair were still thick as thieves.
Efram looked morose. "I guess that depends on Aldrich and Chichiue. But Aldrich could sell water to a fish, and Chichiue's his number one fan. I guess I'd better get fitted for a suit today, too."
Greta shot him a thankful look for forwarding her case, however unwillingly, and elbowed him. "Aw, come on. It'll be fun. With all the best young guys in the marriage market there, I'm sure there will be lots of girls, too. So, please, Yuuri? Can you take me to the dressmaker's today? Pretty, pretty please?"
"I'd offer to take her, Yuuri, but walking downtown…" Annissina waved helplessly at the overdue bowling ball that had supplanted her waspish waist. She added shrewdly, "You'd enjoy the dressmakers'. So many skilled, hard-working, attractive girls work for Madame Ezmelda. The kind of girls your mother would adore."
Yuuri shot her a sour look, but Annissina returned it with an even, unrepentant gaze.
Yuuri nodded in decision. "Very well, Greta. Let's… lunch in town. It'll be like a date! And then we'll head to the dressmaker's."
"Oh, thank you, Yuuri!" squealed Greta, and launched herself to hug him in glee. Behind his back she grinned triumph at Annissina and Efram. Annissina grinned back. Efram returned a wan smile, but looked like he was still stuck on 'skin growths'.
-oOo-
Wolfram stretched and cracked one eye open around 10:30. The bright light from the open curtains at the window made him wince, so he shut the eye again. A muzzy ten minutes later it occurred to him to try looking in the other direction. So he rolled over and cracked an eye open again. Much better on the dark side of the room.
Then he jolted upright. This wasn't his room. That sudden motion, combined with a couple memories suddenly knocking to get out, sent him running to the commode to upchuck. Bielenfeld potato vodka… Rather than depress the prices too much, in bumper crop years, Bielenfeld's potato plantations turned the excess into vast quantities of cheap vodka. It stored much longer than potatoes.
Agonized forehead resting on cool porcelain, not quite sure it was safe to move away from this spot yet, gray soupy memories began to coalesce of the night before. The vat. Günter's damned punch vat. Günter's vat was the social centerpiece of the late night bath scene. A nervous Wolfram had been on his 4th cup of the stuff before he realized its backbone was vodka. Or maybe 6th. Too many to have the sense left to stop, in any case… What the hell was I doing at Günter's punch vat?
There were guys. There were quite a lot of naked guys. Scenic… Everyone was congratulating him for… He frowned. There were a lot of naked guys putting their arms around him, petting his back, fondling his knees… That better be all they were…! Or…?
Eyes wide, he crawled forward back to the restroom door and peered back into the bedroom at knee level. No personal stuff. One Bielenfeld blue suit – his. And his boots and jewelry. He peered the other way. No, definitely an uninhabited room. In vast relief, he sank back to put his forehead back on the cool comfort of the rock-hard commode, sprawled naked on the cold stone floor. Oh, my head… Wolfram was an utter lightweight with alcohol. He normally cut himself off after two glasses of wine, and rarely had even that.
Did I…? No, I would never… would I? But, why was I…? And if I didn't, then who poured me back in here? Surely I couldn't have walked. I must have passed out. I hope I passed out. Then… Gunter and Yozak had been among the faces last night. Perhaps they'd carried him back to bed. He inspected himself briefly… if he'd done anything much, there seemed to be no sign of it. Though… he was in the baths at the time…
"What the hell did I do last night? And… why?"
-oOo-
P.S. I updated the map of Shin Makoku on my illustrations "homepage" to show the domain of Donaghie.
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