Chapter 17

I always have a certain song I like so much that I listen to it over and over. And also, very often, that kind of inspires me when I'm writing. The song of this chapter is definitely „Sing" by My Chemical Romance.

Don't ask me how I came to that, I usually listen to metal and stuff... yeah. Love this song anyway :3

A week had passed by since the wedding and the happenings thereafter.

Gunter hadn't crossed Gwendal's ways once except for the meals he couldn't skip without starving. And on those occasions, he didn't talk to him at all, thoroughly avoiding his gazes. Though he thought it was the best that way, Gwendal still pondered about it.

Trying to focus on the work in front of him, he overheard the noises that passed through the open window, which he had opened to enjoy the clean spring air. But as he suddenly heard Gunter's voice, he startled and jumped to his feet to figure out what was going on.

There stood the white-haired counselor, not clothed in his usual fluttering, long white robes, but in the shorter version. The ones he used for traveling, just like the uniform he was wearing right now, as the stable-lad led his horse towards him. Gwendal knew something was wrong. Gunter wouldn't wear his traveling uniform if he just intended to go to town.

Gwendal hurried to the door and before he knew what he was doing, he ran out of his room, down the hallway and stairs to the entrance of the castle. The maidens he met on his way just gave him weird looks - seeing Lord von Voltaire running by was quite an unusual sight.

But he came too late.

The last sight he got at Gunter was seeing him ride through the gate.

„GUNTER!" he shouted, though he didn't know if he was angry or worried. He had no time to think about it anyway.

His friend heard him, though, but all he got was a look over the shoulder and a short wave by the other one, before he disappeared around the corner.

Gwendal stood there, in the middle of the courtyard, and was confused and speechless.

And he knew he wouldn't sleep too well tonight.

As the dark-haired mazoku left his bed the next morning, he redeemed his statement of the day before. He hadn't slept at all and he felt dead tired.

But it couldn't be helped, he had to do his work.

Yuri and Conrad were still on their honeymoon and now that Gunter was gone, too, the responsibility of watching over castle and kingdom rested on his shoulders. He sighed deeply.

After finishing his morning wash and a short, silent breakfast, he entered his office and stared at the pile of papers that still lay there. A lot were remaining ones of yesterday, because he hadn't been able to do anything. Gwendal felt like he needed fresh air first and stepped to the window to open it.

His gaze fell to the courtyard and he remembered the scene that had happened there the day before. He sighed again. He was depressed.

A quiet flattering sound reached his ears and he noticed he had stared into space for quite a while. As he looked at the frame of the window, Gwendal saw a carrier pigeon sitting there. Not just any carrier pigeon, but a special one. It was dark gray and only had one single black spot in the middle of its head, right above the beak.

It was the pigeon Gunter had trained, with the help of a little majoutsu, and Gwendal knew that the animal was not only carrying a message from his friend for sure, he also knew that it would always find its way back to his owner.

He felt his heart pound fast as he loosened the string that held the tiny, rolled-up paper to the neck of the small animal.

He also noticed his fingers trembling as he opened it. There were only a few letters, but they made his heart jump again as he – of course – recognized Gunter's handwriting. Those bold, big letters were his trademark.

Sorry for being rude, but I needed some distance.

There was no doubt for Gwendal why he shouldn't answer. He took his pen and a small piece of paper, writing down in his wrinkled, small letters:

I understand. There's no need to be sorry. Where are you going?

He wondered if he would get an answer.

Though, he felt much easier right now. Somehow. Yet, somehow not at all.

As he walked into his office the next day, refreshed by a good night's sleep and another quiet breakfast, he quickly opened the window to watch out for a pigeon.

He needn't wait too long, and within minutes, the bird sat in the window frame again.

Gwendal had to calm himself mentally down, as he noticed the grin on his face, before opening the small roll of paper.

Do you really think I'm gonna tell you? Please don't mind, but I don't need anyone to follow me.

The answer was written very quickly.

I am sensible enough to not follow you, don't worry. I was just concerned about your fast departure, for you hadn't told me anything.

He already had to write on the backside of the paper.

The following day, the carrier pigeon already waited for him outside the window, sitting on the windowsill where it cleaned its feathers patiently.

The animal had brought another message. The piece of paper was larger this time.

How should I have told you? I needed this little timeout for myself, and you wouldn't have been able to hold me back anyways.

Maybe, but I would have liked to talk to you at least. I know something like that is hard to talk about, but maybe it would also had helped to ease the tension between us.

That had been his second try already. He had to throw the first one away, the paper he had chosen first had been too small.

[Note: From now on, Gunter's messages are written in italic letters, Gwendal's are bold. And remember, there's always one day between those.]

I wouldn't even have been able to look into your eyes. Neither talking to you. Maybe we should do that when I'm back.

How long will you be away?

I don't know. As long as I need to sort my feelings out. Could take a while. I'm sure you'll handle things while I'm away. Am I Right?

Sure. I know you'll need your time. And I can fully understand that this is hard for you. I'm sorry once again.

I know you are, but it's always better to be honest. Don't worry about me, I will be fine. How are you doing?

Everything is okay. It's just strange to pour the afternoon tea by myself. It never tastes like the one you are making. Is there a secret?

Let the water cool down for a few minutes before pouring it onto the tea. That makes it less bitter. And you made me laugh right now.

Glad to hear that. I have to try your tip today, thank you.

So, what do you say? Did it work?

Kind of. Still doesn't taste like yours.

I will make you tea when I'm back, I promise.

I'm looking forward to that. How are things going where you are?

I'm in a little village currently. I help the villagers here and there, where I can. They are very nice and welcoming, and I feel fine here. The children are also very sweet, they love getting taught some reading and math.

That's good to hear, seems like the perfect place for you. But take care anyways.

Of course. What's going on in the castle? Anything new?

Nothing much. Everything is so really quiet with you gone, Yuri and Conrad on honeymoon, and mother and Greta recently departed for another of mother's „trips to search for true love". But I thought you wanted to relax and not to think about things here?

My intention was to not having to think about you, my friend. But I fail miserably at it every evening, when I send the pigeon once again. You are very lonely right now, I guess?

Gunter didn't actually know how right he was.

Gwendal wanted to scream, right there, out of the window, just to hear some kind of sound. But he would have scared the soldiers who quietly patrolled through the castle, so he didn't. And it would be stupid, of course.

It was so incredible quiet in the castle. Where was that nuisance that was his little brother, when he needed a little bit of conversation or just... someone around? Wolfram was pretty occupied by handling the troops and stuff, which Gwendal had begged him to, just because he had enough work dealing with Gunter's usual tasks.

He couldn't believe that all the conversations he had all day were only with the maidens or messengers, whenever he needed something to be done. It felt kind of dull and he had to admit that he wouldn't even be that annoyed as usual if Gunter had burst into his office right now with the usual afternoon tea, babbling about random things as always. The edges of his lips twitched upwards at that thought.

He had to admit that he missed the counselor more that he had thought of being possible. Though it had just been merely two weeks until now.

And he had no idea what to answer to Gunter's last message. He reached for his pen, and tipped it a few times onto the paper, just to throw it away, like the twenty other ones before.

He hoped that nobody looked at the small pieces in his dust bin. There were many ones laying in there with various messages, reaching from „It's okay" and „Maybe" to „A little bit."

Gwendal rubbed the bridge of his nose with his left hand. He had a headache. He laid the pen back down, covering his face with both hands. He knew why he was so bothered by the situation. But he wasn't able to change it. He admitted that to himself, but admitting it to Gunter was the other thing.

Another piece of paper in front of him, and when he reached for his pen again, he knew what he had to write.

As the letters formed before his eyes, he immediately felt like throwing it away again. But that wouldn't help either.

Yes.

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