A/N: Hello, everyone! And I'd just like to thank you all for your wonderful reviews. I must say that I was pleased with the feedback. Hope that this chapter comes up to snuff.

As always, I find it my painful duty to inform you all that I will be insanely busy for the next few days. I just came home from training today, actually, in preparation for an upcoming writing competition. Shortly after that, I have an oration contest too. And then I have the newspaper to work on... well, let's just say the list goes on and on.

And it seems this A/N is going on and on too. So without futher ado, I present to you chapter three.

Chapter Three: He Chose Freedom He Didn't Want from A Fiancé He Didn't Ask For

Did the maids having nothing better to do? Of course not—or if they did have other duties or hobbies, they certainly didn't deem them to be 'better to do'. As it was, they were gossiping yet AGAIN. There was no end to the fresh scandals that flitted through the castle's halls.

Well, they weren't just gossiping.

"Ssh! The Great Sage might hear us," whispered one. The others swallowed the mad giggles that threatened to spill out of them as Murata knocked on Devon's door.

"Great Sage?" the cadet said, perplexed, when he'd opened it. Murata felt a small stab of guilt at waking up the soldier, whom he was sure had a great deal of training to do tomorrow. Still, he was glad to note that the soldier was nowhere as formal as he usually was when he was fully alert. Apparently his grogginess was interfering with his strict adherence to protocol. "To what do I owe this peculiar pleasure? Is something the matter?"

So he could speak beyond his usual 'Yes, Lord von Bielefeld' litany after all. "Ah… yes. Wolfram's in need of some clothing. I think that the two of you are roughly the same weight and height, so I thought that perhaps I could borrow some from you. Of course I'll see that he returns it as soon as your clothes are washed, but I think he'll do that on his own anyway."

"What do you think happened to Lord von Bielefeld's clothes?" one of the more naïve of them wondered. The others snickered.

"What was that?" Murata asked, turning around. The maids fell silently immediately.

"I didn't hear anything," Devon said, still drowsy. "Just wait a moment, please." He disappeared momentarily and returned with a small pile of neatly folded garments. "I think these will fit Lord von Bielefeld."

Murata nodded. "Thank you, Devon."

"Oh no, Great Sage. I'm merely doing my duty." With a salute, he closed the door.

"Hey… hey Wolfram… wake up," Murata said, shaking him after racing back to the baths. It was lucky that the baths were warm, or else the boy would probably have ended up with a cold, coming out soaking wet like that. "I got some."

Wolfram let out a small whimper. "Sleepy," he whined in an infantile voice, curling up into the fetal position. In a rare moment, Murata's face turned bright red. Just for the record: when you're only in a towel, and then you curl up into the fetal position, people can see—well, basically everything.

"Wolf!" he hissed. "Wake up!"

The prince, mercifully enough, responded this time. "Noooooo…" he yawned, although he was already sitting up and blinking. His head lolled like a little doll's. Murata tugged on his arm.

"Come on, Wolf. I don't like you like this," he complained.

Wolfram's eyes focused on him, looking slightly hurt. "I know," he murmured. Drunk and Yet Still Reasonable Wolfram had just returned. "I don't like me like this. But I can't help myself." He raised his arms slowly. "I can't move properly right now. Could you help me?"

"What?"

The prince repeated his request. "Please. Unless you want me to stay here the whole night in my birthday suit."

"Fine," Murata said, trying not to look at him as he tugged the shirt over Wolfram's head.

"Ow!" Wolfram yelped.

Alarmed, Murata looked at him. "Sorry, sorry," he said.

"Well, if you actually looked at what you were doing instead of staring at the ground, maybe it wouldn't be as painful," the demon huffed. He took hold of the Great Sage's arm. "Why won't you look at me?"

"Because… because it's wrong," Murata said quietly.

"You sound very, very much like someone," Wolfram said as the Great Sage gently tugged the sleeves into place. "A certain someone who I hate very much right now. All I ever hear is that interaction between males is wrong in one way or another."

Murata shook his head. "I don't mean that it's wrong to… I mean, you're really beautiful, Wolfram, and I don't give a damn whether it's considered disgusting or not by society. That's the rest of the world's problem, as far as I'm concerned, when someone as amazing as you is involved." He observed the prince's eyes widening and the cheeks flushing, making him look even prettier than he really was. He wasn't teasing anymore; the words spilled out of him with quiet conviction. This was real. "I'm not Shibuya, though."

"I know. Yuuri looks. A lot." At Murata's suddenly jealous expression, Wolfram held up a hand. "But he doesn't see. It's like I'm never there. You're the opposite. You can't look, but you see everything, don't you?"

"W-what?"

Wolfram shrugged. "I have no idea what the hell I'm talking about. Well, you're the Great Sage. You figure it out. Maybe if you get it, you can tell me about it." When he'd put on the pants, he smiled at Murata. "Although I'm pretty sure that I won't remember anything of this tomorrow morning."

Conrart was worried. Yuuri had finally fallen asleep after brooding some more—it had taken ages for him to nod off; it seemed that the king had been determined to wait for his fiancé. And yet Wolfram hadn't returned. When told that Wolfram was probably just having a good time, Yuuri had said something to the effect of "I thought he was supposed to be faithful to our engagement!" and then stormed off.

Yuuri had always had really good timing; he couldn't understand why it didn't extend to the king's love life as well. He was glad that Yuuri seemed to be showing some concern for his little brother, but why did it have to be this way? Instead of treating the blonde more kindly, Yuuri seemed to be harsher with him.

But Wolfram still wasn't back.

And he was sure that he had a fair idea of where he would find his younger brother. "Eh, captain? Trouble in paradise again?" Jossak asked when Conrart stood up. It had become Jossak's new catchphrase when pertaining to the conflict among Yuuri, Murata and Wolfram. Still, it was safer than referring to it directly.

"I'm going to check on the Great Sage's room again." The last time he had peeped in, there was no one there; neither Murata nor his younger brother. And it was already hours past midnight.

"I'll come with you," Jossak offered. Together, the two of them cautiously ventured over. Slowly, quietly, Jossak opened the door, making sure that if Murata really wasn't in there, he wouldn't be disturbed.

When they opened it, they kind of wished that they had made some noise.

Murata and Wolfram were entwined, kissing on the bed. Wolfram was making ecstatic little sounds that made Conrart's hair stand on end as the Great Sage's arms wrapped around his slender waist and the double black buried his face in his neck. He stood there for what seemed like forever, watching his younger brother responding eagerly to Murata's touch. Before he quite knew what was happening, Jossak had tugged on his arm and quickly but soundlessly shut the door behind them.

"Captain?" Jossak asked uncertainly. They heard a soft moan coming from inside the room. Conrart winced and felt the strong urge to scrub his mind out. "Maybe… we should get back. At least we know he's fine…" He left the thought unfinished, but they both knew what he was implying: There's no way that we can tell His Majesty about this.

If they did, Yuuri was well within his rights to have Wolfram and Murata put to death, prince or not, Great Sage or not—friend or not.

"Ah. Indeed." Conrart allowed the orange-haired man to pull him back towards his quarters.

When they had finally sat down, Jossak's eyes were filled with both mirth and shock. "I didn't know the brat prince had it in him."

"It's treasonous to do something like… well, like that when he's engaged to the king," Conrart said. "The penalties for something of this magnitude…"

"I don't think that His Majesty cares very much. After all, he's been incredibly eager to break off the engagement, don't you think? It's always been Wolfram who's been pushing on about the whole fiancé business. And as it is, I don't think that Wolfram cares very much now either."

Actually, Wolfram did care. Quite a lot. Because at the very moment that he was greatly appreciating the feeling of Wolfram's tongue battling against his, Murata heard the word that spoiled everything.

"No."

No?

And suddenly Wolfram was sitting up, pushing Murata away. His lips were swollen and he was still breathless from kissing so long and so hard, and there was a bruise on them where Murata had lightly bitten them, but the blonde prince ignored all of that as he struggled to explain. "I… I can't. Not…" He groaned. "Yuuri."

Murata licked his lips slowly. He could still taste Wolfram on them. "So." He didn't really mean it as a question. There was nothing more that he could say. "Okay, then. If that's what you want."

The demon flinched. "I'm so sorry." He had been so out of it—so very happy when Murata had pulled him close and when he had initiated that wonderful first kiss. And now all he could think of was the guilt, after all those times he had accused Yuuri of cheating. The king had never done anything even remotely equal to what he'd just done. "It's not you…"

"It's not you, it's me?" offered Murata. He had often laughed at the cliché, but now he didn't feel like laughing. At all.

"I'm so sorry," Wolfram repeated, and suddenly tears came streaking down his face unbidden. Instantly Murata felt the enormous burden of remorse pressing down on him.

It wasn't fair. He shouldn't have forced Wolfram into this—and really, he had been taking advantage of the prince at a time when he knew that the demon was emotionally devastated as well as intoxicated. "No, I'm the one who's sorry, Wolf," he murmured, hugging him. "I'm an idiot."

And Wolfram wondered why Yuuri could never be like this.

"Let's just sleep, okay?" Murata whispered, stroking those golden curls that he had been running his fingers through just moments ago. He could read the fear in the prince's eyes and he rushed to assure him. "I'm not going to try anything."

Yuuri would never have taken the blame. Yuuri would never have embraced him and apologized. Yuuri would never have continued to put his needs and wants first even before the turmoil of emotions that he saw in the Great Sage's eyes. He leaned his head against Murata's chest, letting his tears dampen the fabric. "I wish that I could tell you not to stop. Oh Shinou, I truly wish it."

Shinou, you twisted… what kind of horrible revenge is this? If you ever loved me, leave Wolfram out of this. "I understand." Still cradling the weeping demon, he put out the candles and they fell asleep that way.

He woke up earlier than Wolfram, and crept away before dawn had even begun to break over the Demon Kingdom. "Your Highness?" Many times he heard people uttering those words, but he ignored them. If he wanted to talk to them, he would do it—and they knew it. Met with the sight of the Great Sage's back as he saddled up a horse and galloped out of the castle in the rain, everyone else fell silent, presuming it was some crisis that they as yet had no knowledge of.

In a way, they were right, weren't they?

"Great Sage!" Ulrike said, frowning as she looked up to see the dripping double black. "This is an unexpected surprise." She folded her hands primly in front of her as she rose to greet him. Recently, Murata had been holing up in the castle—notwithstanding the fact that more soldiers had to double up in the rooms just to give him his own—and hadn't been visiting the temple as much. In fact, it was rare that he put in an appearance at all.

And at this outrageous hour of the morning… "To what do we owe the pleasure, Great Sage?" she asked respectfully.

"I have to go to the other world," he said, not caring that he was making little puddles of water form on the temple's stone floors, not even bothering with the most basic of pleasantries. "Immediately."

Ulrike quailed under his stony eyes. "Great Sage…"

"I don't want to hear it, Ulrike. Get me out of here. Now."

He had never spoken in that tone of voice before—not to her; not even to whatever enemy he might have had. "Great Sage, what has happened?"

The long, shuddering breath he took was more of an answer than his reply to her. "I have no time for questions, Ulrike. Just let me go. There's no need for me to be here right now." His dark eyes bore into hers. "Absolutely no need," he repeated. There is not only no need for me to be here, there is a need for me to not be here.For the good of the kingdom.

"As you wish, Great Sage," she said simply. If he wasn't going to tell her, then she would just have to let him do as he wished. He was the Great Sage, after all. He knew what he was doing.

Thunder crashed outside. Wolfram slept soundly through the night, although he felt cold—as though he was missing another body's warmth around him. He shivered and wrapped himself unconsciously in the tangle of the blankets.

Ulrike let out a low cry of dismay and surprise.

"What's wrong?" Murata demanded, opening his eyes. He was standing in the puddles of water that he had tracked on the ground; Ulrike had stated that they were more than sufficient to take him to the other world. Why was he still here, now that he thought about it?

"I don't know," Ulrike said, for once losing her composure. "I don't understand it at all, Great Sage. All I can suppose is that it's Shinou's wish for you to stay here in the Demon Kingdom."

Murata's features hardened. Of course… Shinou. He should have known that the Original King would not have let him go so easily. "Damn you," he whispered. I gave a multitude of lives for you, with you. Will you not let me suffer this one alone before I destroy this kingdom with your doppelganger?

"Great Sage?" Ulrike ventured timidly.

"It isn't your fault, Ulrike," he said. Inwardly he raged at the Original King. He loved the bastard, that much he knew, but at the same time he hated the games that he played, the way he manipulated people. Power. That was all Shinou had ever been interested in, since birth. He had sacrificed their bond for the sake of that power—sacrificed lives, hearts.

He smiled wryly. And now that Shinou had all that power, what did he do with it? Once you've attained the one goal you staked your life on, what was left for you to do? Toy with lives, treat the world as though it was your plaything? No, he was better of being reincarnated time and time again than do that.

"I have lived so many lifetimes, but so far I have lived them all without regrets," he whispered. "Can you say the same for yourself?" The cold wind stirred at his hair, whipping it across his face as he bowed his head.

Yuuri was awake. And Yuuri was in a very bad mood.

That, Wolfram had definitely not been counting on when he'd tiptoed back into their room. He had thought that maybe the king wouldn't notice his absence the previous night—that perhaps he could say that he had just gotten in late but had actually been there all along, or some other plausible excuse—but instead he was faced with a fully conscious and pissed-off double black.

"Yuuri," he said tentatively, fighting the splitting migraine that the hangover was bringing on.

"What happened to your clothes?"

Wolfram flinched at his tone. "I borrowed this from one of the cadets last night," he said, faltering at the harshness that met his words. "I spilled something on my attire. It was careless of me."

"Whose are those?"

The prince frowned. Where on earth was this conversation going? Normally Yuuri was so warm and caring and happy-go-lucky. Instead, he was getting bawled out for God knew what? "They're Devon's. I don't see why that's such a big deal." Murata told him as much when he'd woken up. But strangely, he couldn't remember much of last night's events… he presumed that after getting thoroughly smashed, he'd probably passed out and the Great Sage had seen fit to drag him to his room instead of letting him face Yuuri's wrath and 'I-told-you-so' attitude.

"I just came to get my clothes."

"Then get them and then just get the hell out of here." The words were out before Yuuri realized what he was saying, and he saw the overwhelming hurt in the prince's eyes.

He wants me to leave? Fine, I will. If he wanted me to die, he would just have to say it, and I would do it.

I'm leaving.

Wolfram turned his back to Yuuri as he dressed. The king's eyes lingered on the red swelling on the prince's neck and the bruising on his lips, but he made no comment. Then, to Yuuri's surprise, Wolfram collected the rest of the garments that he had in the cabinet that they shared and began putting them into neat piles.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm taking them out of here," Wolfram explained. There was a stretch of silence.

"Why?"

"Because… it's really inconvenient, to keep on doing this," Wolfram rattled out. "For both of us."

"To keep on doing what?"

The demon boy looked back at the human. "I mean the share-a-room thing. You want your privacy; and I guess I want my own, a little bit." He would miss sleeping with Yuuri's warmth beside him. But then again, when he thought of all the times that the king complained about him kicking him off the bed, or hogging the sheets, and a million and one other sleeping idiosyncrasies that he reportedly had, he realized that perhaps it would be better.

That, and the weird dream that he had had last night. About the Great Sage. Which had resulted in some embarrassing consequences when he woke up all sticky and disgusting beside the said double black. He really didn't want Yuuri knowing about that. He was a soldier, for Shinou's sake! He wasn't supposed to be going through all those hormonal things like wet dreams.

Privacy? Wolfram hadn't wanted privacy before. All he'd wanted was to constantly stick by his side, which had irked him to no end. "Where are you going to stay?"

Wolfram bit his lip, tugging meditatively at it. "I haven't quite figured that part out yet. My soldiers offered to let me stay with them ages and ages ago, and I'm sure that that offer still stands today—"

"No!" Yuuri replied sharply, recalling Murata's 'they're-undressing-him-with-their-eyes' comment. There was no way that he could let his fiancé stay in such a… promiscuous environment, surrounded by that foul blonde squad of his. "Absolutely not."

"Why?" Wolfram ground out.

"It just… it isn't safe," Yuuri blurted out.

"Safe? I can think of nothing safer than sleeping with the knowledge that half a dozen of my cadets, fully trained and ready for battle at any time, are right there with me in the same room."

"It just… it's just not okay, Wolf."

"But… Your Majesty!"

Your Majesty? "That's an order," he added suddenly, not knowing what possessed him to say such a thing. He regretted it the moment he saw the shock and contempt in the other boy's face. It seemed that he was ordering people around a lot lately… First Murata, now Wolf?

The blonde's eyes narrowed. "As you wish, sire," he said, emphasizing the title. Still, he threw together his pile of clothes and scooped them up into his arms.

"Then where are you taking those?"

Wolfram ground out the words in his impatience. "I'm not sure yet, sire. But I'm going to find another place."

"What?"

The fire user nodded stiffly, and added a bow for good measure. It was supposed to be a sign of respect, but Yuuri felt more like the demon had just hit him. "Seeing as you have denied me the company of my men, I will locate another place where I can stay."

Yuuri darted forward and grabbed his wrist roughly, sending his clothes flying to the ground. "Look at me, Wolfram! What's wrong with you?"

The blonde prince stared and tried to yank his hand away. Yuuri's grip was so fierce that it actually hurt. "What do you mean what's wrong with me?" His eyes were starting to water from the pressure that Yuuri was applying. "Stop it! You're hurting me!"

Yuuri abruptly let go. "Tell me what happened."

"Nothing," Wolfram spat back at him, gingerly rubbing the spot where Yuuri had held him. "What's gotten into you anyway? Since when do you act like this?"

"Since you decided to just… just run away from all this," Yuuri said, flinging a hand out in a gesture that seemed to encompass everything their relationship meant: friendship, anger, jealousy—a mistake.

"Is that so wrong?" Wolfram asked, getting to his knees to pick up his fallen garments. "I never heard you say that you didn't want me to run." He raised steely green eyes to the king. "You were always the one running, Your Majesty."

Yuuri hesitated. There was nothing he could say to that, was there?

"I thought so," Wolfram said softly, grabbing his clothes and running out of the room.

And what better place to stay than in the room where you've been sleeping for the past couple of days?

Wolfram hadn't had a clue at first where he would go. Instead, he skipped breakfast and temporarily dumped all of his stuff at the barracks, ensuring their safekeeping to his second-in-command. Then he had headed back to the castle, his signature scowl darkening his features, a sort of shield to ward away the rest of the palace's inhabitants.

Murata, however, was not deterred. "Wolf!" he called out to the prince. The people nearby winced, waiting for the eruption of Mount St. Wolfram to begin.

"WHAT?!"

The Great Sage ignored the edge in the demon's tone. "I heard from Shibuya. Do you mean it?"

"Yes, of course I do," he snapped back. "However, now that His Majesty refuses to let me stay with my soldiers, I'm going to have to go room-hunting."

"Wolfram…"

"If you're here to intercede on his behalf, you've got another thing coming. Namely a flame up a certain double black's ass." Wolfram glared threateningly at him—his current headache combined with the little 'situation' with His Majesty made him even scarier than he usually was. "I'm really not in the mood for this right now, Great Sage."

"He didn't want you to go," Murata said softly. He pulled the prince towards the alcove, which he was now thinking of as their hiding spot. He took Wolfram's hand in his and frowned at the slight bruising on the pale skin. His eyes narrowed. For Shibuya to have gone that far… and here he was, defending him. "He just didn't know how to say it. But he doesn't honestly want you to go away."

"Yes, he does! He's wanted it for so long, so badly, always flinging it into my face without even thinking whether I deserved to be treated that way! And now that I finally want to get away too, why does he have to keep interfering?"

Murata waited a while to let Wolfram calm down, taking the opportunity to heal his injury with his maryoku. "Shibuya already told you that you couldn't stay with your soldiers. Do you plan on staying with Conrart or Gwendal?"

"No, of course not. They're likely to insist that I simply return to that wimp and remind me that I'm supposed to just suck in whatever His Majesty sends me way, whether its good or bad. Conrart especially. He always defends him."

"Just go back to him, Wolf. I'm pretty sure that he'll apologize."

"No," the prince said stubbornly. "As far as I'm concerned, he can stick his apology up his—"

"Ahem." Murata interrupted him. "If that's the case then, where will you go, my dear prince?"

"I don't know."

"You really don't know how to plan ahead, do you?"

He shrugged. "I'm a fire user, remember? Impulsive, doesn't give a damn about the consequences, you know the rest."

Murata hesitated. What Wolfram didn't know was that Yuuri had asked him to let Wolfram stay with him for a while, at least until the blonde went groveling back to his king. He knew that given last night's little… incident… he could control himself just fine. The question was, if Wolfram didn't say no, would he have gone ahead?

But Wolfram had said no. And even like this, if he so much as tried to kiss those lips, he knew that Wolfram would push him away before he went in too far, too deep.

"You can bunk in with me, then," he said.

The demon's head shot up. "You would do that?"

"You need only ask for something, and I'd do it." And he meant it; he would have done anything for him. Even if Yuuri hadn't asked him to, he thought that the end result would probably have been the same. "And I don't mind at all. I think that I've kind of gotten used to having you around."

"You don't mind?"

"Why would I?" He wiggled his eyebrows. "I can't think of anything better than having a beautiful, passionate prince sleeping beside me."

"Pervert!" Wolfram burst out laughing, his emerald eyes sparkling. Still, he felt a certain disquiet when he thought of the visions that had invaded his slumber last night. He rubbed unconsciously at the marks on his neck and wondered where they had come from. Surely it wasn't from Murata… he would have remembered if something happened, right? He wasn't that drunk. Hopefully. "Thank you, Your Highness. Even if you are a pervert, I know that you have good intentions at heart."

"By the way, there's a council going on," Murata added. "They told me to look for you."

"WHAT?!"

"What do you mean, 'what'?"

"They sent for me and you only tell me now? Why in the name of Shinou did you do that?"

"Because you look so cute when you're mad."

Wolfram's cheeks flushed. "Shut up, Great Sage."

"We have word of a traitor in the military," Jossak said, for once his sparkling eyes serious. "And this traitor is supposedly connected to the recent raids near the castle. A village was overrun just last week."

Yuuri took a deep breath. "And what happened?"

Jossak looked away. "They butchered a lot of the villagers. Now, we're not sure what their motives are at the moment, but we believe that they're primarily humans doing the usual—going against the demons, getting some money along the way, and of course having what they deem to be 'fun'."

Wolfram and Murata entered. Wolfram was still a guilty, irritated shade of pink, while Murata was smirking at him. Conrart and Jossak exchanged significant looks but made no comment.

"If they're humans, why would you think that there's a traitor? We're all demons here," Yuuri put in. "Well… er… not counting me or Greta or Conrart, naturally. Are we being suspected?"

Wolfram let out an exasperated, choking laugh. "Sure. Because we really think that the demon king is aligning himself with the humans, killing off his own men while spouting peace and love for all. You're too innocent for your own good, so don't even think that you're anywhere near worthy a scheme that masterful."

"Right," Jossak said, bringing the topic back. "Despite that, we still suspect that they have a collaborator here. They have good knowledge of how many there are of us, our supplies, and where we're worst defended. We captured one of their men and interrogated him, but he… kind of died."

"Jossak… how did he 'kind of' die?"

The redhead shrugged, keeping a neutral expression on his face. "I'm sure that I wouldn't know, Your Majesty."

"In any case, before he… expired," he continued with a wry smile, "we managed to extract some information from him. He did say that they were planning to plunder a village near here sometime soon. The problem is, we're not sure where. That, and the fact that sometime soon could be anywhere from this afternoon to a month away."

Wolfram leaned forward. "It could be a trap. Maybe they let him be captured to give us false information. It would sow dissension among us to suspect someone feeding them our secrets, after all."

"It's better safe than sorry," Yuuri contradicted. "What if it's true?"

"Then we should still protect the castle. It would be a likely target if we all went rushing off to defend the villages. And anyway, it's like a shot in the dark. We aren't sure where they're going to strike."

"But we can't just let those people die! It's just so typical of you to be so hardhearted and cruel—you don't think of anyone but yourself."

Wolfram shrank back at his words. "It had nothing to do with that," he said fiercely, trying to cover up the hurt in his eyes—it wasn't hard; the pain was almost entirely eclipsed by the anger burning in them. "Maybe it's because I'm actually strategizing instead of just blindly doing whatever I think is heroic. After all, we can't make unnecessary risks just because certain people have hero complexes!"

Uh-oh. It looked like Wolfram actually hit a nerve with that one. "What did you say?" he hissed, getting to his feet.

Gwendal intervened. "Much as I agree with you, Wolfram, the king's wishes must be respected. I think that the best course of action would be to send some of the soldiers away, but to keep a small force here at the castle as well. Besides, it's preposterous—will a small band of marauding humans really try to take on the castle? It's never happened before, and I doubt that it ever will. No, more likely they'll try for one of the villages. They make easier prey."

Murata nodded. "Right. I suggest that you, Conrart and Günter take most of the men with you to different towns around the castle. On the other hand, Wolfram and his private squad can stay here to protect the king. If, by the end of the month, there are no attacks, then you three will return. During that time, you can reinforce defenses and scout the parameters. I think that the castle can spare you guys for a month."

Wolfram's eyes widened. "What? How come I'm being left behind?"

"Firstly, because you yourself said that they're likely to aim at the castle. If your hunch is right, then you would be a great asset here." And besides, I'm sure that your brothers want to keep you safe, he thought. And so do I. "And because you're the king's fiancé. We can't risk you."

"He's right, Wolfram," Gwendal agreed automatically. "Besides, who better to take care of the king but his own betrothed?"

"Conrart," Wolfram suggested succinctly.

"No, he's too likely to let His Majesty go and do something stu—noble," Jossak corrected a little too late. "Besides, the captain would be valuable in talking to the villagers. He's a people person."

And Gwendal had the authority and regal bearing that would intimidate anyone into giving him information and listening to his orders. Günter had a reputation that made people follow him automatically. Wolfram, on the other hand, wasn't even considered a full adult yet; and far from being a 'people person', as Jossak had put it, he would be more likely to slash his way through an argument.

"Günter can take care of the castle," Wolfram said in dismay, but he was beginning to realize that his protests would be futile. And that he was completely useless.

"Not this time. But don't worry, Wolfram, we're not doing this to deliberately exclude you." Murata patted his hand reassuringly. Conrart unknowingly flinched at the gentle gesture. "Besides, Shibuya and I will both be here, so it's not all that bad."

"Yeah, I'll bet," Jossak murmured. He grinned impishly at the two of them. Personally, he didn't really see what all the fuss was about with Conrart; after all, didn't Wolfram deserve to be happy? And if Yuuri couldn't make him happy, at least Murata could. The redheaded soldier was pleased.

"Then that's settled," Yuuri agreed. "I think that it's only right." Wolfram didn't argue. And Murata didn't take his hand away. But it didn't matter; everyone was too focused on the king to look at the Great Sage's hand atop the king's fiancé's, anyway. Although Wolfram did kind of wonder why he didn't make the Great Sage stop.

"Thanks for the loan, Devon," Wolfram said, handing the cadet back the now neatly laundered clothes. Hmm. He really had never noticed how small the rooms at the barracks were. Actually, now that he thought about it, he was glad that he didn't have to stay with his men. There wasn't enough space for him. "I really appreciate it. Could you… er… not mention this to anyone else?" A faint blush tinted his cheeks. "Of course His Majesty and the Great Sage now, but that's about the extent of it. I'd rather not let it get out that I made a drunken fool out of myself."

The cadet smiled as he put them away. "It's really nothing, sir. None of the men respect you any less because of what happened. If anything, we're ashamed of ourselves. Andrew didn't really mean to say all those things, but we should have kept a better eye on him. We all knew that he couldn't hold his liquor well."

Wolfram nodded. "I'm glad that you see it that way. It's better that we all watch out for one another." He grinned. "After all, you're my comrades, in a sense."

Devon smiled lightly. "I think that I speak for your whole squadron when I say that it's an honor to be considered so, sir. Really, we're just your private guards. We're nothing special."

"That's stupid," said Wolfram, who normally would have agreed. But recently he had gotten off his proverbial high-horse and stopped being such a snob about the whole fraternizing-with-the-common-military thing. "I hand-picked all of you for this task. I've been there during your training. I even got drunk in front of you—although I'd really rather not think about that," he added hastily. "Of course you guys aren't 'nothing'—that would be an insult to my training regimen."

"But of course, sir," he said with a laugh. "No way could we say that your… what did His Majesty call it? Oh yes, the 'von Bielefeld training camp of doom', well, I suppose that you're right in that sense, Lord von Bielefeld." His eyes were alight with gratitude and genuine admiration. "I'm just thankful to be here, sir. If it wasn't for you…"

Wolfram's normally hard emerald eyes had softened to liquid green. "Don't mention it, Devon," he said softly. "I regret not acting faster than I did."

"I understand why you didn't, sir. Security reasons. Usually you only take the sons of the soldiers who've been in the army for generations. I'm surprised that you even made an exception in the first place."

"Gwendal wouldn't have done it, and Lord Weller's army is only for the seasoned soldiers. If you were going to end up with someone, it had to be in my group. But I'm glad that I decided to let you join."

"Well, it means the world to me, sir."

Wolfram nodded. "I'm really happy that you're fitting in well here, Devon. I know that it must have been hard at the borders." He frowned, remembering when the blonde had first turned up in the woods, evidently having lived there by himself for years, unknown to anyone else. He had lost his parents' ages ago, and he had basically no friends. He remembered trying to brush the matter away—it was completely against their standard operating procedure to take him in; surely they could just deliver him into one of the nearby villages, or something like that—but his conscience wouldn't let him.

Besides, Conrart had been so proud… and Murata had been standing right next to him when he made that decision ages ago. Funny… he realized with a little shock down his spine that Murata had been constantly by his side these past few… months? Maybe even years.

He gave himself a little prod to get his mind back on track. "Well, they're going to be leaving in a while. Gwendal and the others, I mean." He smiled lightly. "Do you think that we'll be able to handle the task of defending the castle by ourselves? I'm sorry that I couldn't accompany them, but at least none of you have to risk your lives—at least, Shinou willing, we won't have to right now."

Devon gulped. "Yes, sir. That's… true. But still, I wouldn't think that we were safe just yet. I think that we'll have a lot more to do than we think. I mean, it's a really important job to guard the castle, isn't it?"

Wolfram shrugged. "That's true. But I still wish that I could have gone with them," he said distantly. "I want to feel like I'm actually doing something…" He realized with a snap who he was talking to. "But, uh, of course what we're doing is good too." He grinned. "I tried saying that we need more defense at the castle, so isn't it silly for me to think that we would get more action if we were sent out?"

"No, sir. Forgive my impertinence, but I think that you just don't like feeling left out. No offense, sir."

"None taken, cadet. Maybe you're right. At the very least, you spoke your mind," he acknowledged. "And that doesn't merit punishment."

"But if you don't mind my asking, sir, what makes you think that it's likely that someone will launch an attack here?"

"Just a feeling I get."

Devon shrugged. "Well, sir, maybe you're right too, but then again, the likelihood of that isn't very big, is it?"

"No." Wolfram laughed. "Okay, I know when I'm licked. At least we'll get a few days vacation—but more of the von Bielefeld training camp of doom. Look forward to it."

"Yes sir," Devon said, instantly getting to his feet and springing into a salute.

"At ease, cadet," Wolfram said, rolling his eyes.

Devon smirked. "Permission to speak freely sir?"

"Granted."

"Thank you for everything, sir." The cadet looked solemn. "I hope…" He trailed off. "You've been nothing but wonderful to me, sir. So I'm sorry for all my shortcomings. I'm grateful for all that you've done. In the future…"

"I'm sure that we're going to have a bright future with you in the ranks, Devon. Don't worry about what you're doing wrong. You're a fine cadet—and if you ever need someone to talk to, well, you can consider us your family. You do, don't you?" Wolfram asked. "We hope that you do."

Devon averted his eyes with a nod. "Thank you, sir."

A couple of days. It had seemed forever since he had let it go. Yuuri smiled at the exhilarating feeling that it brought on. "Conrart…"

"Fast ball, I know," Conrart said as Yuuri tossed the ball to him. Later that afternoon Conrart would be setting off for one of the nearby villages, so he was taking advantage of the time that they had together to play.

"Nice catch."

"You seem distracted, Your Majesty."

"Yuuri," he corrected him. In the past few days, he had forgotten to tell him not to call him by his royal title. In fact, a lot of people had been calling him that lately. Ever since the whole conflict with Devon and Wolfram had started. He gritted his teeth, imagining his fiancé in the arms of that yellow-headed soldier, a complete idiot who was nowhere near good enough for him.

"If anything's bothering you, Yuuri, you should confide in someone."

"I'm just a little confused now, that's all." He sighed. At the meeting a while ago he had come to terms with the fact that he had cared so much for the blonde that he prioritized the prince's safety over the potential lives that Wolfram might have saved, had he been sent to one of the villages.

And he was jealous—insanely so—of Devon and Wolfram. In fact, just of anyone who touched Wolfram. He had seen Murata's guiltless gesture to comfort his fiancé just a moment ago, and he had nearly knocked the Great Sage's hand off of Wolfram's. That proved to him just how brainless and unreasonable he was being; after all, there was no way that Murata was involved with Wolfram, and yet he still felt that suffocating resentment welling up in his chest.

But none of that meant that he loved the prince. As to that, he still felt unsure. The mere thought of even kissing Wolfram revolted him, let alone doing anything beyond that. He was a boy, for Shinou's sake! He couldn't even tell Wolfram with complete honesty that he wanted him to stay with him—because he wasn't sure whether that was the truth or not.

He realized that the whole free love thing was a lot harder than it sounded.

"Is it about your fight this morning with Wolfram?"

"A little bit, I guess. He was going to go off and… and sleep with his men." Okay, not exactly the best choice of words.

"You mean with his soldiers?" Conrart asked, puzzled by the vehemence of Yuuri's tone.

"Yeah!"

Conrart paused. "Your Majesty, what would be wrong with that?"

"Well…" the king blushed. "It's just, you know, it's…" He sighed. "I can't really explain it, Conrart. It's just that Wolf spends so much time with them, and I get the feeling that they're all crazy about him."

The soldier laughed. "Actually, any single one of them would jump him, given the chance to do so; nearly everyone in the castle knows that. But they would never do that to Wolfram without his consent—they may love him, yes, but their devotion is something pure. And Wolfram would never give any of them his permission, so there's really no reason for you to worry."

"But I am. He's my friend, after all."

Conrart tossed the ball back to him. "Your Majesty, why don't you tell Wolfram about your concerns? I'm sure that he would appreciate them."

The double black shook his head. "I think he would just take it the wrong way. It would be like… like I doubted him, or something like that. Or he might think that I'm in love with him." He let out a pained sigh. "And that's really not what I want him to think."

"Anyway," the king continued, "it's not like I'm worried or anything now. I asked Murata to let Wolf stay with him for now, and he said that if Wolfram agreed, he didn't have a problem with it."

Oops.

"Sorry, I was a bit sidetracked," Conrart murmured as he picked the ball up from the ground where it had fallen. A soldier approached them.

"Greetings, Your Majesty." He saluted the king. "Captain Weller, we have to set off."

"In a moment, soldier. Tell Gwendal I'll be joining you shortly." He waited until the man was out of earshot. "Yuuri, please treat my little brother well while we're away."

Yuuri raised his eyebrows. "Of course."

"He loves you very much. Even if you… don't love him," he said, although he felt guilt gnawing at his heart as he said the traitorous words, "care for him. Wolfram needs that right now."

The king stared hard at him. "Conrart, is there something that you know? Which I might need to know?"

It was his duty to tell him of his fiancé's infidelity. It was his duty to tell the king the truth. But he would not, could not hand over his little brother that way. He preferred treason to being a traitor to his own blood. The alternately pleading and demanding emotions in the double black's eyes almost convinced him to admit everything that he had seen, but he knew better than that. "I'm sorry, Yuuri, I really have nothing to tell you."

"Is that it, then?" Yuuri asked. "I won't see you, Günter or Gwendal for what might be a whole month."

"Please pray that we are away for that period of time, Your Majesty, because it would mean that the attack won't take place for a month." Conrart saluted him. "Please give my regards to Wolfram. I have no time to say goodbye to him. And to Greta as well."

"Of course." But he had read the secret conflict in Conrart's eyes, and he knew that the soldier knew more than he was letting on.

And Yuuri was determined to find out what it was.

A/N: Well, how was it? I'd love to hear your feedback. Gosh, I'll be so insanely busy soon, but if you guys review a lot, I promise to update ASAP.

By the way, I've been thinking about writing a Conrart x Wolfram story. Sick? Maybe. But I love doing pairings that most people don't exploit. Tell me what you think! Until then, more reviews faster updates. Thank you!