Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Legend of Knights of Destiny ❯ Part 2 Changes ( Chapter 3 )

Part 2 - Changes

Treize couldn't help but notice that King Stephán looked tried. Probably too many worries and too little sleep, he thought.
The guard who had escorted him to the king's study retreated after a quick salute, and the captain dropped down to one knee and bowed his head respectfully. "Your Highness, you wanted to see me?"
"Raise, Sir Treize. It is so good to see you again." Stephán gestured at one of the chairs. "Please make yourself comfortable. I hope you don't mind that I asked to talk to you at such an ungodly hour?"

"Not at all, your Highness," the captain replied, taking a seat across from the king. He had always been one to wake up before dawn and life as a soldier had only strengthened that habit.

"I'm sure you are wondering why I have asked you to return so suddenly and I see no reason to beat around the bush. I need you here because I'm going to put you in command of Prince Milliardo's personal guard. I'm replacing all the men currently in charge of his security. Its not that I don't trust them, but rather that my son has become quite skilled in manipulating them."
Treize nodded in silent acknowledgement.

"I'll be very honest with you, Captain. Milliardo is not that little boy anymore that you might remember. He has come to an age where he is trying to test his boundaries, as well as my patience. In other words he has become increasingly difficult to deal with of late. But I suppose I can't blame him entirely." Stephán sighed. "I overlooked a lot of his faults when he was younger. I was only trying not to be as strict as my father used to be, when I grew up. And of course Milliardo is not the only problem. As you might remember, whatever he is doing, Heero is right there beside him."

The captain found it hard to suppress a smirk. Oh, yes he remembered.
The king looked at him with a firm gaze. "Treize, I need somebody who is capable and not afraid to keep them both in the straight and narrow. Do you think you are up to a task like that?"

"I can give it a try, but I will probably need your assistance, your Highness."

"I assure you that I'll will give any support you need." the king promised.

"What about the rest of the guard? Will I be able to pick my own men for the duty?" Treize wanted to know.

"Yes, I suppose that would be the best," Stephán nodded. "I want you to be fully in control. My greatest concern is my son's safety. Running wild with little or no escort at all is not wise at times like this. Do whatever you think is necessary to ensure their protection. I know Milliardo won't like it, but he has to learn to act a little more responsible."

"With your permission, your Highness, I will start putting together a list of people that I find suitable for the prince's guard."

"Very well, Treize." The king gave another nod. "By the way I also would like you to take over Milliardo's and Heero's weapons training. Your father was a great swordsman and his expertise is greatly missed. He taught them well, but I'm sure that there might be still a few things they can learn from you."

"They might," the captain answered humbly.

"Well, with that out of the way, there is something else I wanted to talk to you about. I've heard the slave you brought with you is a sorcerer. Is that true?"
Treize winced inwardly, moving a little uncomfortable in his chair.
I forgot how fast news travels here at the palace.

"He is still a boy, your Highness and his powers are limited. I assure you if I was not certain that I could not control him I would never have brought him with me."
Stephán laughed mildly. "Relax, Treize. I'm just being curious. We haven't had a sorcerer in this palace since long before you were born. I would really like to meet him."

"Oh," Treize exclaimed, feeling a little sheepishly, but at the same time relieved. Even though he would never admit it, he had been a little worried about the king's reaction.
"Would you might bringing him by later on today?"
"Of course not, your Highness."

***

"Quatre!" Dorothy of Catalonia, niece and ward to Duke Dermail, shouted as she burst into the stable.
"Yes, Miss Dorothy?" the young teen answered without stopping what he was doing.

"Have you groomed my mare yet? I'm planning on taking a ride this morning."

"I'm sorry, I'm still feeding the horses. You will have to wait a little longer, Milady." Quatre filled another bucket with oats and carried it over to the other side of the stable.

Dorothy pressed her lips together, eyebrows furrowed in irritation. "I want my horse to be groomed now!" She ordered sternly.

The blond boy sighed and put the heavy bucket down. "There is a brush and a curry comb right over there on the shelf," he told the girl, who was just about the same age as he.

"What?" she asked confused.

"As I told you, I'm busy right now. If you can't wait until I'm done you will have to groom your horse yourself."

"You… you… How dare you to talk to me like that, impudent little slave?" she snapped furiously. "You know I could have you whipped for that."
"I suppose you could," Quatre admitted, going on with his work. "But it wouldn't get your mare groomed any faster."

"Hn." The blond girl snorted as she spun around on her heels, leaving the stable as quickly as she had entered it.
A short time later Quatre entered the adjacent stable, where the mares were housed that were about to foal or just had given birth. He found Dorothy kneeling next to a chestnut colored steed.

"Is she okay?" she asked, as she heard the stable boy walk in. The mare was one of her favorite horses and she was expecting her first foal.

" She has been a little stressed, so I put some herbs into her food to calm her down. It should not be long anymore, I guess only a few days until she gives birth." Quatre answered. "Don't worry about her, Miss Dorothy. I'll take good care of her."

"Worry?" The girl snorted as she got up. "It's only a horse. What makes you think I would care about something that insignificant as an animal?"
"Whatever you say, Milady?" The boy smiled softly, as he watched her leave. She could deny it all she wanted, but he knew her too well. She actually did care, much more than she would ever admit to anybody, including herself.

***

Wufei opened his eyes and found it was still relatively dark around him, even though his internal clock told him it was morning. His internal clock had never failed him. He could hear noises coming from somewhere - something like furniture being moved, footsteps on a stone surface - but his brain was still too drowsy to fit it all together. Then the footsteps came closer. There was a sound of heavy fabric being moved, and the dim light around him brightened.

"Wufei?" a soft, low voice asked.

"I'm awake," the boy replied. Suddenly he remembered why he wasn't curled up in his bedroll on the ground next to his master, but sleeping in a rather comfortable bed. He remembered that they had reached the royal palace the night before, and how awestruck he had been when he first saw the majestic white castle. It was larger and more magnificent than anything he had ever seen before.
The room he was sleeping in had only a small window, hence the dim light, and was separated by a heavy black curtain from the main chamber. Wufei sat up and swung his feet over the edge of his bed. His clothes hung neatly folded over a chair within his reach. He slipped into a pair of white loose fitting pants, tied the sash that was holding them up, then put on a dark sleeveless top. He left the small room and stepped into his master's chamber. Treize was already fully dressed in his usual uniform.

" Did you sleep well?" the captain asked, aware that the boy occasionally suffered from nightmares.

"Like a rock."

Treize smirked. "Yes, I suppose there is nothing like a soft bed after sleeping on the ground for a week."
"What do you want me to do while you are going to see the king?" Wufei inquired. At the outpost he had taken care of the horses, kept their quarters clean and helped around the camp, but he wasn't sure what was expected of him here at the palace.
"My meeting with the king is already over. You slept so blissfully I saw no reason to wake you up before I left. Later I'll show you around the castle so that you don't get lost if you ever have to go anywhere without me, but first we will have breakfast."

Right on cue there was a knock at the door. Upon Treize's command to come in, a servant appeared with a tray of delicious smelling food. Wufei felt heat creeping into his cheeks when his stomach started growling almost instantly, reminding him that he had been too tired the night before to eat anything.
"Sit down." His master put a plate with a generous helping of food in front of the boy. "Eat up!" he commanded. "You have been draining yourself. No more spells now till you are back at full strength."

Wufei blushed again, but nodded obediently. He wasn't sure how Treize knew that he had been using protection spells during their trip, to keep them safe during the night. Sometimes his master was just overly protective of him. He could handle much more casting a few spells.

***

The captain filled his own plate with a few pieces of fruit and some cheese. He never felt very hungry in the morning. For the longest time they ate silently, until Wufei spoke.

"Is something wrong? You look distraught this morning. Has it anything to do with your meeting with the king?"

Treize sighed. He could deny it, but that wouldn't change the fact that the boy was right.
"Let's just say I wasn't called back here for the reason I had hoped," he said. "I'll not be taking over command of the palace guard. Instead the king put me in charge of crown prince Milliardo's personal security."
"Is that bad?" Wufei gave his master a puzzled look.

"I'm not certain. But I can imagine that the prince will probably not be pleased that his father takes away most of the freedom he enjoyed until now and puts me in control of his every move. And truthfully I would rather face a troop of enemy soldiers than Milliardo when he is in a bad mood."

The young sorcerer tried hard not to grin.

"Well I'm glad at least one of us finds that amusing." Treize snapped in fake exasperation.

"I'm sorry." Wufei replied. "I just can't imagine that it will be that bad. You have trained new recruits before, haven't you? And even a slave."
"Yes, but if that slave is any indication, I'm doomed to certain failure."
Wufei laughed quietly and Treize couldn't help but smile. The two of them had certainly come a long way since the day when he had bought the then frightened and angry boy. (1)
"I'm not that bad, am I?"

"No you are not." Treize assured him. "You are the perfect slave. I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Do you know the prince well?" Wufei wanted to know.
"I used to. We spent a lot of time together when we were younger. Sometimes my father would take us hunting. I think Milliardo saw in me something like a older brother. There even was something akin to sibling rivalry between us when we got older. He always wanted to be better than I, in everything. " The captain smiled softly at the memories. "But of course that was a long time ago. People can change a lot in three years. God knows I have. And I'm sure so has he. Oh by the way, the king wants to see you later."

"Why?" There was a slight trace of concern in the young sorcerer's voice.
"He just said he was curious to meet you. You have nothing to worry about, Wufei." The captain rose and put his hand on the boy's shoulder in a re-assuring manner before he walked to a large trunk at the other side of the room. Wufei started to clear the table and putting all the dishes back onto the tray.
Treize rummaged through the trunk until he found the item he was looking for. "I'm afraid that for the time being you will have to wear your collar again."
The boy spun around. There was a short sparkle of fear in his eyes before he realized that his master was only holding a simple leather slave collar in his hand. Yet his reaction didn't go unnoticed. Treize smiled sadly as stopped in front of him, gently picking up Wufei's chin with one hand, and forced him to look up to him.

"I would never hurt you. I thought you would know that by now."
"I do," the boy replied quietly, as Treize clasped the collar around his neck.

***

"I'm coming," Milliardo called out when somebody knocked at the door of his bedchamber. He slipping into his boots, opened the door, and blinked in surprise. He had been expecting Heero not one of his father's guards. The two teens had decided to leave for their morning ride early, before the king would get a hold of them and possibly make them attend a boring formal breakfast with Dermail. And if they were lucky, the duke and the other guests would be gone by the time they got back.
"May I help you?" he asked.

"His Majesty the king wishes to see you, your Highness," the man informed him with a polite bow.

"Does it have time until later? Heero and I were just about to leave for a ride."

"I'm afraid not, your Highness. I was told to take you to him right away. His Majesty also ordered Lord Yuy to remain in his chambers until he was told otherwise."

"What?" Milliardo's expression changed from mildly surprised to completely shocked. "Where is my father?"

"In his study, you Highness," the guard told him.
As Milliardo walked down the long corridor, he noticed that he was being followed.

Do I look like I need an escort? I do know my way around here, he thought irritated.
He almost snapped at the guard before reminding himself that the man was only doing his job and following orders.
A short time later he knocked at the door of his father's study, waited for the invitation to come in and walked into the room.
The king dismissed the guard with a gesture and waited until the door had closed behind him before he spoke.

"I pleased to see that you are feeling better this morning, Milliardo." His voice left no doubt that he knew about the night before. "Sit down."

"So he told you?" Milliardo snorted as he slipped into the chair; convinced that Treize had told on them even after promising not to.

"I have no idea who you are referring to, but nobody had to tell me anything. The day if I don't know anymore what is going on in this castle will be the day I step down from the throne." Giving his son a stern look, Stephán continued. "Milliardo, things are about to change around here. From now on I expect you to attend every social event given in the palace, starting with today's formal breakfast…"

"But Father…" Milliardo interrupted. " I do not like Duke Dermail. He is a hypocrite and I'm almost certain he is not an ally we can count on and trust."
"Nevertheless you will attend breakfast and you will do so with a smile on your face. Believe me, you will have to deal with much more unpleasant things in your life than sharing the table with a person you don't like. You are the crown prince for god sake, start acting like it."

"I never asked to be the future king," the blond teen snapped.

"No child ever asks to be born as a prince, commoner or slave," his father told him sternly. "That's a choice made for us by a greater power. But we have to live with it and fulfill our place in life. Trust me Milliardo, everything happens for a reason. We might not see those reasons right away, but there will come a point in your life when we understand why things happened the way they did."

The young prince swallowed an angry reply.
"As you know, I've ordered Sir Treize back to the palace. He will be in charge of your security, starting with forming a new team of personal guards. - And Milliardo, if I say he is in charge I mean it. You will not leave this castle without his approval."

Milliardo's mouth dropped. "Am I a prisoner or the son of the king? I do have to ask for permission to leave the palace?"

His father gave him an irate look. "Considering the way you have been behaving of late, I should have you ask for permission to leave your chambers."

"Father!" The young prince jumped up from his chair. "When are you going to stop treating me like a little child. I'm almost 17 years old."

"I'll stop treating you like a child if you stop acting like one. Start behaving like a responsible young man and you'll be treated like one. And don't raise your voice at me, Milliardo. You are the last person here who should be angry. I'm greatly disappointed in you. For your own selfish reasons you not only put Heero in a position where he had to choose between being loyal to you or honest to me, you even had your own sister lie for you."

Realizing how right his father was, the young prince lowered his head as the king continued.

"I know I'm as much to blame as you are. I have not given you the proper guidance that I should have and I have let you and Heero run wild for far too long. When I grew up, my father was very strict. When I was your age I was already fully involved in the daily routine of the royal court and I hated it. I didn't want to put this kind of pressure on you and let you be a child as long as possible. But you need to start growing up some time, and I think that time is now."

"I'm sorry I disappointed you, Father. I should not have acted the way I did." Milliardo knew that any argument from him was only going to fuel his father's anger even more. He was best off to go along with everything for now and try to better his position later when the king had time to cool off.
"I accept your apology, son. But my decision still stands. You will not charm you way out of this one. You may go now. Tell Heero I expect the two of you formally dressed for breakfast."
Milliardo opened his mouth for a reply, but realizing that arguing with his father right now would bring him nowhere, he just sighed.

***

Treize had not been exaggerating. This palace was bigger than Wufei had imagined, although Treize only had shown him a part of it.

It was hard to ignore the looks they were getting as they walked down the long, lavishly decorated corridors. There were quick, curious glances as well as open gawks.

Wufei instinctively moved closer to his master's side, grateful when the captain put an arm around his shoulder.

"Let's go see the king, and then I'll take you back to our quarters," Treize suggested.
"What will you be doing later on?"
"I have a few things to take care off," the ginger-blond captain explained as they headed toward the great hall, where the king would be most likely to find at this time of the day. "I want to present his Highness as soon as possible with the names of soldiers I would like in the prince's guard."
The soldiers snapped to attention as they entered the thrown room and the king stopped the conversation he was having and turned his head.
"Your Highness!" Treize bowed as they reached the throne and Wufei knelt down, lowering his head. "If this is a bad time, perhaps we should return later."
"Not at all, Captain. I was just finished here."
Still on his knees, Wufei carefully raided his head and glanced at the man in front of him.

So, this is the king, he thought.

He was a man of impressive statue, in his early 40th, with long, white hair and kind, pale-blue eyes.

"So, this is your slave, Treize?" the king rose and the young sorcerer quickly lowered his gaze. A pair of leather boots stopped right in front of the boy and a gentle hand raised his chin. "You forgot to mention he is quite handsome. I have never seen such exotic looks. What's your name boy?"

"My name is Wufei, your Highness."

"They say you are a sorcerer is that true?" the blond man asked as he let go of the boy's chin.

"I am able to use magic, that's true, but I do not believe I have the right to call myself a sorcerer yet." Wufei replied.

The king laughed; a pleasant sound that put the boy somewhat at ease. "You are very modest, I like that." He gestured Wufei to get up on his feet, and then directed his attention toward Treize. "Do you mind if I borrow the boy for a while? I would like to show him something."

"Not at all. I was just about to take him back to my chambers." the captain answered. He turned to Wufei, giving his slave an encouraging smile. "I'll see you later, Wufei."

"Yes, Master."

"Come with me," the king ordered.
The young sorcerer gave Treize a questioning look before he followed, but the captain just shrugged, indicating that he had no idea where they were going. The king lead Wufei through a maze of halls and corridors that seemed to go on forever.

"Where are you from?" the man suddenly asked, with a look back the boy. "You don't look like you were born somewhere around here?"
"No, your Highness," Wufei answered. "I'm from a village near the Yangtze River, as far east as you can possible imagine."
"That is a long way from home."
"Yes your Highness," the boy confirmed a trace of sadness in his voice.
After a while they reached a tower at the most southern end of the palace. The king led the way, up a narrow stairway than ended at a heavy, wooden door. When the man opened the door it squeaked in its hinges as if it hadn't been used in a long time.

"This is where our last court sorcerer used to work," king Stephán explained, stepping into the dimly lit room.

The moment Wufei followed him, he was hit by a wave of strange feelings. The king turned in concern as he heard the young sorcerer behind him gasp.

"Are you all right, boy?"

"Yes, your Highness," Wufei replied, still catching his breath. "It's just… I still can feel his aura."

"You can?" The king looked at him in amazement. "Still after all these years?"

"How long has it been?" Wufei asked in a low voice.
"More than three decades," the blond man told him. He walked over to one of the windows and opened the heavy blinds, filling the room with a burst of daylight.

"He must have been very powerful." Wufei blinked, struck with awe. He let his eyes wander over several tall bookshelves, then focused on a heavy table in the middle of the room filled with more books, vials, and some things he didn't even know what they were. Everything was covered with a thick layer of dust.
"I believe he was," king Stephán said. "I was still young, but I remember my father speaking of him with great regard. Nobody has been in this room since the day he died. I had been thinking of having it cleaned out a few times, but the servants didn't really like the idea of touching anything up here."
Wufei walked through the room and stopped at one of the large shelves. He let his finger run carefully over the wood, unsure if he was allowed to touch anything. But when he didn't get a negative reaction he grew bolder. He stepped over to the table, blew the dust of a book that was lying in front of him, and picked it up. There was something about the way those items were arrange on the table that seemed so incomplete to him. It looked like the owner had only stepped away for a moment, planning to come back later and finish what he had been working on.

"Am I right to assume your sorcerer didn't die of old age, your Highness?"
"No he didn't. He was old yes, but he died in battle defending my father."

"Perhaps that's why?" Wufei muttered more to himself. "Perhaps that's why his presence is still so strong. Maybe he had some unfinished business he was never able to take care off and part of him refuses to let go."
"Wufei," king Stephán spoke, after watching the boy for quite a while.

The young sorcerer turned. "Yes, your Highness."
"If it is all right with your master I'll give orders that you are allowed to come here whenever you want. Feel free to use any of the books or items you need."

The boy's jaw dropped, too surprised to answer right away. "But your Highness, are you sure about that? These books are so old and valuable. "

The king smiled softly. "They might be valuable for you. For me they are just dust collectors. If you don't use them they will probably just be sitting here for another thirty years."

"I don't know how to thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," Stephan told him with a smirk. "I'm also planning on asking Treize to lend me your services as a sorcerer. So don't thank me before you know what you get yourself into."

For a moment Wufei felt like laughing out lout. He was allowed - no expected - to use magic.

"When can I start?" he asked anxiously.

***

From the throne room Treize walked directly to the training grounds where he found Lieutenant Otto sparring with a handful of other royal guards.

"Treize, are you up for a match?" the dark-haired soldier asked.

The captain shook his head. "Perhaps another time. Can we talk somewhere?"

"But of course," Otto sheathed his sword, letting his opponent know that the fight was over, then followed Treize.

"I've heard the king put you in command of prince Milliardo's security," the lieutenant said, as they walked together toward the western wing of the palace where most of the soldier's and servant's quarters were.

"I'm not sure if I should congratulate or pity you."
"That's the reason I'm here, Otto," Treize replied. "You and I have served together for a long time. I need somebody that I know and trust as my second."
"Me?"

The captain gave him a smirk. "Is it too much of a challenge for you?"
"I would be honored, Treize. But I don't think Captain Septm will like it. He has not been very happy with your return as it is."

Treize raised one eyebrow in surprise. "Why is that?"
"I'm not sure, but I suppose he feels like your are threatening his position as head of security in the palace."

"This is absolutely ridiculous." Treize shook his head. "Besides, neither he nor I would have any saying in the matter, should the king decide to replace his current head of security."
"True," Otto agreed. "But I'm certain Septm will not be pleased if you go around picking out men from his troops."

"I have permission from his Highness to do so, although I have no intention on stepping on anybody's feet. Thank you for the warning, Lieutenant. I'll try to be as diplomatic as I can. So, what about it, are you interested in becoming my second in command?"

The lieutenant nodded. "I'll be looking forward to something more challenging than riding patrol in town."

***

As soon as breakfast was over and the guests had left Milliardo withdrew into his study. His father asked Heero to accompany Relena on a ride through the countryside, leaving the prince to sulk in solitude. He wasn't sure how much time had passed when somebody knocked at the door.

"Come in," he called out, assuming that perhaps Heero and Relena had returned from their ride. But instead it was Treize Khushrenada who opened the door entered the room.
"Your Highness," he greeted Milliardo. "Could I have a few words with you?"

The prince nodded. "Yes, of course. It's not like I have anything better to do anyway."
"I take it you spoke to your father?" Treize asked a she closed the door behind himself.
"Yes, I did." Milliardo snorted sardonically. "He informed me that he appointed you as my dungeon guard."
"Perhaps this isn't a good time." The captain stopped, ready to turn and leave again. "I shall come back later, when you are in a less testy mood."

"No, wait, Treize, I'm sorry. I know this isn't your choosing. I'm just irritated. Please, have a seat, make yourself comfortable." Milliardo rose and walked over to the window, where a carafe was sitting on a small table. "Wine?"
"Please." Treize nodded.
The prince filled two goblets with the dark red liquid, handing one off to the captain before he went back to his chair.
He hasn't changed much at all, Milliardo thought. Only his eyes; they seem much more mature now, wiser, and so much more serious.

"Your Highness, I don't think your father is trying to spite you. He is concerned for you safety, which I think is perfectly understandable considering that you are the crown prince as well as his son."

Milliardo gave a sarcastic grunt. "You are starting to sound like him, do you know that?"
The captain took a sip from his wine.
"I would like to make this easy as possible for all of us, your Highness. And it is not my intent to keep you imprisoned in the castle."

"So, I will still be allowed to go hunting with Heero?"

"I can't see why not?" Treize shrugged. "As long as you tell me ahead of time what your plans for the day are so that I can make the proper arrangements for your security."

"Still, I don't understand father." The prince sighed. "Why does he think I need somebody to keep track of every move I make? I had more freedom when I was twelve."
"When you were twelve, you wouldn't have dared to sneak out of the palace," the captain remarked dryly. "My father would have made sure of that."
`True," Milliardo admitted, a ghost of a smile curving his lips. He had always had nothing but the udder most respect for the former head of security. And just like Treize said, he would never have dared crossing him. "How is he?" he asked quietly.
"He is doing fine…I suppose," Treize replied, a slight hint of guilt in his voice. Little more than two years ago his father had suffered serious injuries during battle. He survived but lost the use of his right arm almost complete. Unable to fulfill his duties any longer and forced to retire, he and his wife had moved to one of their estates in the south of Sank. "It's a long way to Harrisbourgh. I don't have the time to visit them as often as I should."
"Father asked him to stay here at the palace and assist in the training of new guards. He refused."
"I know." The captain took a sip from his wine before he continued. "It must have him hard for him. He never knew anything else but the life of a soldier. It was all he ever wanted to be. Staying here and watch somebody else do the job that he had been doing for so many years would probably have been too much to bear for him."

There was a moment of silence before Treize spoke again. "There is another reason why I came to see you, your Highness. I assume you father told you that he also wants me to take over your and Heero's weapons training."
Milliardo just nodded.
"I'm still in the habit of practicing early in the morning. Would that be acceptable for you, your Highness?"

"Yes, that will be just fine."
"Excellent! Then I'll see you tomorrow at sunrise. I'm looking forward to find out if you will be able to make good on your promise."
"Promise?" the prince echoed.
"Have you forgotten what you told me just before out last sword-fight, the day before I left for Tewkesbury, your Highness?"

Milliardo's brows furrowed as he tried to recall the incident Treize was talking about.

::: Begin Flashback :::

When Milliardo walked into the fencing room just as Treize was already hard at work, putting his sparring partner through quite a workout. The prince remained in the doorway to watch the match…if it could be called that. A few minutes later the fight was over and Treize's latest unfortunate victim, a young lieutenant by the name of Otto, scrambled to his feet panting.
"I believe his match goes to me." The young knight sheathed his sword and turned toward the door. "I see you are back for more, Milliardo. I have got to admit one has to admire your persistence."
The prince snorted. "You are very confident of yourself, aren't you? Just wait, Treize. One of these days I'm going to wipe that grin right off your face."

"I would certainly love to see you try, but I'm afraid that this might be our last practice together."
"What do you mean?"
"I have been transferred to an outpost at Tewkesbury."

Milliardo's heart skipped a beat. He felt like somebody had run a sword into his belly. Treize was leaving? That possibility had never even occurred to him.
"When are you leaving?" he asked quietly.
"Tomorrow morning. But don't worry, I have all intention to come back some day."
"Good!" Milliardo somehow managed to smile. "That gives me some time to practice. And when you come back, watch out, because you won't be the best swordsman at this castle anymore."
Treize smirked. "I'll be looking forward to it."

::: End Flashback :::

"Your Highness!" The captain gave Milliardo a curt nod as he set down his goblet and rose. "With your permission, I shall leave."

The prince frowned slightly. He hasn't called me by my name even once.

"Do we have to keep being this formal even in private?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"You used to call me Milliardo, remember?"
"Back then we were children," Treize replied. "I'm not sure if it would still be appropriate."
"Appropriate or not. We always considered each other friends, Treize. That hasn't changed, has it?"
"Not as far as I'm concerned."

***

"Captain Septm is here, your Highness," the guard informed the king.
Stephán nodded in acknowledgement. "Tell him I'm ready to see him."
The guard saluted and left to return a few moments later with Septm.

When the captain asked for a meeting with him, king Stephán had wondered what the man wanted. He never really knew what to make of his head of security. As a soldier Septm was one of the best, but as a person he was about as lovable as a hyena.
"Your Highness," the man bowed.

"What can I do for you, Captain? Please sit down."
"It's about Captain Khushrenada, your Majesty. Or more precisely about the slave he brought with him."

"What about him?" the king asked surprised.

"I consider it my duty to inform you that I have misgivings about that boy remaining here in the palace."

"Are you concerned because he is a sorcerer?"
"So, you know about that?"
"Of course I do," Stephán replied. "You didn't think Captain Khushrenada would keep something like that from me, would you?"
"No, of course not." Septm assured him quickly. "I didn't mean to imply anything like it. But I'm sure that you will agree with me that the boy has either to go or needs to be restrained from using magic."
"I'm sorry, but I do can not agree with you. In fact I spent some time with the boy earlier today and I rather like him."

Septm's mouth dropped. "You were alone with him? With all due respect, your Majesty, do you even realize how dangerous…"
"Relax, Captain. I'm certain that Wufei poses no threat to anybody. And as you know I have always considered myself a very good judge of character."
"He could be powerful enough to destroy the castle and everybody in it."
"Or he could be powerful enough to become our new court magician. Which reminds me. I have given him permission to use the Wizard tower, please make sure your men are aware of that."
Septm gasped. "Your Highness, how can you be sure that you can trust him."

"I know Treize trusts him and that's enough for me. Treize's family has served this kingdom well for many generations; I have no reason not to trust his judgement. So unless there is anything else…"