Kyou Kara Maou Fan Fiction ❯ Inexorable Flow ❯ Part 17 ( Chapter 17 )

 

Disclaimer: I don't own Kyou Kara Maou! - It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I'm not making any money from writing it.

Warnings: Yaoi (male x male), Yuuri x Wolfram. Some other pairings. Angst. Adult topics.

A/N 1: Age: Yuuri - 43. Wolfram…let's say he is about the same age as Yuuri just a little older. Lakarde - 10.

 

Inexorable Flow

 

by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Melisenda

 

Part 17

 

It took the rest of the day for Yuuri to take care of everything: Faraya was under watch and had been locked up in one of the rooms in the castle, and Nuuos had a chance to explain himself and express his concerns about Eola. Eola herself had been found on Aliran, living with one of the rich courtiers. A situation that had carefully been explained to Nuuos, and then it took another hour to talk him out of killing that nobleman.

 

Yuuri brushed his hand over his forehead, trying to wipe away the headache that dealing with Nuuos had given him, then rubbed his tired eyes. Who could have thought that the fourth ruler was a naïve dim-wit who was so easily manipulated by everyone around him? Yuuri had to agree, though, that things had turned out to be far better than he had expected.

 

Yuuri stopped briefly at the door to his chambers where he was saluted by four guards. Pushing the door open he caught a strong smell of herbs in the front room where, again, he was saluted by two more guards. He quickly walked into the bedroom. From her seat on the side of the bed, Gisela stood up to greet him. She bowed.

 

“How is he?” Yuuri asked, coming up to the large bed where he could see a shock of blond hair protruding from the blankets that all but hid Wolfram completely.

 

“It's not life-threatening or permanent, but the Esoteric Stones have taken a toll on His Highness' body. It will take time for His Highness to recover completely.”

 

Yuuri sat down onto the bed near Wolfram. Tentatively, he folded down the covers and reached his hand toward his husband's pale face. Wolfram moaned painfully at the touch, and Yuuri retracted his hand.

 

“He has not regained consciousness once. He needs rest and peace. Very likely, after coming around, he will feel nauseated and weak - common aftereffects of Esoteric Stones. He won't be able to eat or will eat very little for a few days.”

 

“Won't it only make the illness last longer?”

 

“Yes, it will,” Gisela nodded. “But there's no way of getting around that.”

 

Yuuri sighed. He stood up and started unbuttoning his jacket. “Has Lakarde come to see him?”

 

“Yes, but I told him to make it short. The more he sat at his father's side, the more panic-stricken he seemed to become.”

 

Yuuri nodded. “Your duty for today is over. I've ordered them to prepare a room for you three doors down, just in case something serious happens.”

 

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Gisela bowed and left the chambers.

 

Yuuri finished undressing then put his pajamas on and slipped under the covers at the other side of the bed. Only now, knowing that his husband was here, right beside him, could Yuuri's heart stop beating so madly. While dealing with today's matters, Wolfram was the constant thought at the back of his mind. Even after being assured that Wolfram was alive and being taken care of, he still could not calm down.

 

Yuuri was awakened by Wolfram moving about in the bed. It was dawning outside the window. Immediately realizing what his husband wanted, Yuuri leaned past his blindly fumbling husband and quickly pushed the basket that had been left by Gisela closer. The sounds of retching followed.

 

“Better?” Yuuri asked, holding out a handkerchief for Wolfram when it seemed that the fit of sickness was over for now.

 

Wiping his mouth, Wolfram moaned something incomprehensible then, crumpling the handkerchief in his hand, his head sank back to rest on the pillow and he fell asleep.

 

The next time Yuuri woke up it was at the soft knock on the bedroom door. He blinked then rolled to his side to look at the clock; it was already eleven in the morning.

 

“Yes?”

 

“How is my father?”

 

“Don't let him in.”

 

Yuuri turned his head to look at Wolfram. His husband had his eyes closed and his face was a sickly white color. Yuuri wondered if Wolfram was reacting appropriately to the situation. For some reason it seemed that Wolfram was not even sure where he was.

 

“He's alright, Lakarde,” Yuuri called out. “Just sleeping.”

 

Yuuri's words were met by silence, and Yuuri wondered if Lakarde thought that he was trying to hide something from him. “I think you should just let him see you,” Yuuri whispered to Wolfram. “He's very worried.”

 

“I can't let him see me like this. I can't face him. Not after…”

 

Yuuri rolled his eyes. Was that Wolfram's pride talking or real concern? In any case, wasn't Wolfram just being stupid? Or perhaps even a bit cruel?

 

Lakarde's voice wafted in again: “You will tell me when he wakes up, right?”

 

Yuuri threw a sharp look at Wolfram. “He is awake, Lakarde. Not very sensible, though,” he could not help the biting tone of his voice. “You can come in and see him.”

 

The door opened quickly and Lakarde rushed in. “Father?”

 

“Shh,” Yuuri put his index finger to his lips after noticing Wolfram frown painfully at Lakarde's loud and alarmed voice.

 

“Oh, sorry,” Lakarde whispered. He hurried to his father's side of the bed and, pushing the basket aside, leaned onto it. “Father?”

 

“Mmm?” Wolfram turned his head to give his son a small smile, his blond hair mussed and strands hanging before his eyes.

 

Lakarde's face was split by a huge smile. The boy stared at his father with such a relieved expression that Yuuri felt something warm fill his heart.

 

“Gisela said that you would completely recover in a few weeks time?” Lakarde asked, hopeful.

 

Wolfram nodded. “Of course I will. Easily.”

 

Yuuri could see that Lakarde wanted to say something more. A few muscles around his mouth twitched but his lips stayed closed. Probably Lakarde thought that he had already given enough freedom to his emotions by bursting into his father's bedroom like this.

 

“Rest, then,” Lakarde said, suddenly feeling somewhat awkward after catching Yuuri's dark-eyed gaze. Was there pity? “I'll come again in the evening.”

 

“Alright. See you then,” Wolfram nodded.

 

Wolfram exhaled loudly after Lakarde closed the door. He wanted nothing else but to sleep. Despite that, there were still some pressing matters to deal with.

 

“Help me to get to the bathroom.”

 

“Sure,” Yuuri nodded. He quickly dressed and found a robe for Wolfram.

 

The way to and from the bathroom sapped what strength Wolfram had regained during the night. Finally, when he and Yuuri were back in the bedroom, he curled in the bed and just lay listlessly. There was another pressing matter, though to deal with before he could rest.

 

“What's the situation?”

 

Yuuri gave his husband a skeptical look. “I think you just need to rest.”

 

“Oh, I'm not even dreaming of getting up. Just tell me what you know and I'll be out for the rest of the day.”

 

Worried, Yuuri walked closer to the bed. Wolfram admitting defeat with such quiet resignation was shocking. It made Yuuri realize that Wolfram was feeling much worse than he was letting on. Yuuri carefully sat down next to his husband. He started stroking Wolfram's hair.

 

“I'm glad that you're alright.”

 

“I'm not alright.”

 

“But safe.” Yuuri smiled as Wolfram turned his head and his forehead pressed into Yuuri's palm.

 

“I'm sorry,” Wolfram muttered. “I…I've let you down. Because of me… What did you give up?”

 

Yuuri suddenly understood that he missed a very important thing - Wolfram did not know anything that had happened after he had been kidnapped. Yuuri shifted, shook the slippers off his feet and got into the bed, under the cover. Wolfram turned to him, his bleary eyes tired, guilty.

 

“It's alright, Wolfram. Everything is alright,” Yuuri said, embracing Wolfram. “Amae came and I exchanged him for you.” The look on Wolfram's face was priceless. Yuuri cracked a smile. “He insisted I hold him hostage. He's not bad, that kid.” He lifted his hand to stroke the blond's head again. “Everything is alright. You just rest.”

 

The sunshine gold of his husband's hair flashed in the filtered light of the room, and the splash of color reminded Yuuri of something. Not releasing the blond, Yuuri again leaned over Wolfram's shoulders and reached to his side of the bed, pulling open the nightstand drawer with his fingertips. Luckily, what he sought was just inside the drawer.

 

Pulling back, he held the gleaming gold bracelet before the emerald eyes of his husband. “Give me your hand,” he said warmly. Obeying, Wolfram shifted slightly, turning in Yuuri's hold until he could free his arm. Yuuri slid the golden bracelet over Wolfram's hand and let the heavy metal come to rest in its proper place on Wolfram's arm.

 

Emerald eyes flashed from the bracelet to the dark eyes of his husband where they remained, gazes locked for a long moment before Wolfram closed his eyes and a long, slow breath escaped him as his body relaxed.

 

There was a pause, only the soft rusting of hair against Yuuri's fingers heard, then Wolfram sighed, his breath devoid of his previous anxiety. “Tell me the news.”

 

Knowing that he would not be able to beat Wolfram's stubbornness, Yuuri started in a soft voice: “Faraya is being kept in one of the guest rooms. You know, the one Leahir usually stays in. Shori's, my and Nuuos' barriers render his powers inactive. Nuuos…” Yuuri saw Wolfram frown at the unknown name. “Ah, he's the fourth ruler, Nuuos Astar. Ahhh…how do I say this? I think there's something wrong with the man's head. I'm really not an expert, but this is some sort of dementia. He's very nearly like a small child. Faraya convinced him that I had kidnapped his beloved Eola, and he enthusiastically agreed with Faraya's plans to eradicate me and take over Mearan. He was Faraya's back up plan in case I disagreed to exchange you for Ekara.

 

“We found Eola. It appears she eloped with one of courtiers from Nuuos' castle. She was fed up with the, what she called, “silly adoration”. It seems there was a misunderstanding between them.” Yuuri ruffled through Wolfram's hair. “But Nuuos doesn't want to understand that or just can't understand that - I'm not that sure,” he sighed. “He's still raving about proposing to her. Murata is with him now, trying to calm down his fitful bouts of tears.”

 

Yuuri stared at his husband's relaxed face while his fingers were sliding through the blond hair. Was Wolfram asleep? “I don't know how or why, but Murata knows him. Murata was the one to tell Nuuos that I had nothing to do with Eola's `kidnapping'.” Really, Wolfram was deeply asleep. “And, surprisingly, or maybe not, Nuuos believed him immediately,” Yuuri whispered softly, finishing. He stood up carefully so as not to wake Wolfram. Bracing for another hard day with renewed strength, he left the bedroom.

 

He headed downstairs and started walking in the direction of the kitchen. It was past time to have something to eat.

 

“Your Majesty?”

 

He was not going to be allowed to eat in peace, was he? Suppressing a sigh, Yuuri turned to see one of the castle guards who had just approached him. “Yes?”

 

“Amae Sederu, well, the concubine…” the guard started tentatively.

 

“Yes, what's up with that pest?”

 

“He demands to see his king. He…well, he's being loud.”

 

Yuuri groaned. “At first I can't make him meet Faraya, now he demands to see him… Why do I have to deal with these idiots?”

 

When Faraya had been fished out of the crater of water, Yuuri had decided that it would be safer for Amae to stay away from Faraya. Amae had seemed to be of the same opinion and did not protest when he was locked up at the other side of the castle.

 

The guard stared at Yuuri. “Your Majesty?” he tried meekly.

 

“Tell Amae I want to eat calmly. After I'm done, I'll see to this matter. Oh…and tell him that the prince seems to be recovering.”

 

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the guard bowed, hurrying off.

 

Yuuri decided that the concubine was giving the guards a hard time. Maybe a chain and a doghouse somewhere in the garden would do more good than keeping him locked in a room. He would be useful at least.

 

Once in the small dining room just off the kitchen, Yuuri was served piping hot pancakes with jam and a few sandwiches. Taking his time, he ate, then had a mug of tea. After a while, deciding that, according to protocol, he had made Amae wait for his royal personage just the right amount of time, Yuuri finally left the table.

 

“I want to see Faraya,” Amae demanded as soon as Yuuri set foot into the room the concubine was currently inhabiting.

 

“So I heard.”

 

Without hurrying, Yuuri passed Amae and walked over to the table in the middle of the room and took a seat in one of the four chairs arranged around it. He motioned with his hand at the door, dismissing the guards. Bewildered, Amae stared at Yuuri who had put his elbows on the table, leaned his head onto his fists and stared back at him. Bewilderment started turning into anger.

 

Amae smiled. Composed, he came up to Yuuri and bowed.

 

“A glass of wine, Your Majesty?” Amae offered humbly.

 

“With pleasure.”

 

With catlike grace, Amae went to the cupboard at the wall to retrieve a bottle of white wine and two glasses. After nimbly uncorking the bottle with his lean fingers, he filled one glass and put it on Yuuri's right.

 

“May I ask Your Majesty's permission to join Your Majesty in a drink?”

 

“But of course.”

 

Amae filled the second glass, again, spilling not a drop. He lowered the bottle to the table then took the chair opposite Yuuri. Still smiling, he raised his glass.

 

“To Your Majesty, then.”

 

“Oh, yes. Thank you.”

 

Yuuri sipped the wine. “Faraya trained you well, didn't he?”

 

Amae gave him a smile that might have been mistaken for a pleased one if it did not have such sharp edges around the corners of his mouth. “Oh no, there were many other men before Faraya, who…disciplined me.” Amae offered Yuuri another smile that cut like a sword. “You'll see that I'm really well-behaved.”

 

This was why Yuuri did not like Amae - he had an unnerving air around him. Well, that was one of the reasons, the first and strongest one being that Wolfram liked this male too much.

 

Yuuri's eyes followed the tip of Amae's tongue that snuck out to catch a droplet on the glass then disappeared between two reddish lips.

 

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

 

Amae looked surprised. Then hurt and innocent. Finally giving Yuuri another smile that was even sharper than the earlier ones. “So what if I am?”

 

Yuuri would have liked to tell Amae that he was thinking too highly of himself, but it…wasn't really the case. “I thought you and Wolfram were friends? Saving his life was a generous gesture. But…sleeping with his husband…”

 

Amae's smile widened. “Oh you see, while life is not replaceable, husbands are.”

 

His breathing hitched and Yuuri tried hard to get the wine flowing where it was supposed to flow. He started coughing when some of it still went down the wrong way. Damn that concubine.

 

“Are you alright, Your Majesty?” Amae asked with deep concern in his voice. He was reaching for a handkerchief on the table, and Yuuri made a mental bet with himself that if the concubine had his way, he would probably strangle him with that handkerchief.

 

Yuuri took the offered handkerchief. He had come here intending to intimidate Amae, but, for some weird reason, it was going the other way round. People like Amae were scary when they thought they had nothing left to lose. And to think that Amae was nearly twenty years younger than he was… Just a youngster. Yuuri suddenly felt old and tired.

 

“So you want to see Faraya?” Yuuri finally muttered when he got his breath back.

 

“Oh yes, very much so.” Amae gave him a flattering smile. “Your Majesty has an incredibly good memory!”

 

Yuuri did not even bother to reply. People like Amae… When they came, he had Wolfram or Gunter deal with them.

 

“Follow me.”

 

Yuuri was stunned at how instantly the mask fell from Amae's face as soon as he got what he wanted. Now he seemed nervous and somewhat apprehensive. Obediently, without any further comments, the concubine followed him outside the room where they were surrounded by a handful of Yuuri's bodyguards.

 

They crossed about a dozen corridors to get to the other side of the castle then climbed two staircases, and passed another dozen corridors. When they were finally standing at the door that opened into Faraya's room, Yuuri noticed that Amae's face was pale and he again had that reluctant air about him. Was Amae reconsidering? He was not having that.

 

Yuuri opened the door and, while Amae was trying to peer cautiously into the room, pushed him in without any warning. The concubine stumbled and would have landed face-first onto the floor if not for one of the body-guards catching him by his arm and helping him to regain his balance.

 

For all of his catlike walk Amae was a klutz, Yuuri decided, observing the empty room. Then his gaze settled on the opposite door leading to the bedroom. Faraya must be resting. As if on cue, the door opened, Faraya stepping out. His eyes swept towards Yuuri and Amae then settled on his concubine for a long tension filled moment.

 

“Well, well… look who's here.”

 

“Hahh…yeah,” Amae tugged on his sleeve nervously while staring at Faraya through the lightly shimmering power barrier. It was very similar to what he remembered. Maybe now, as back then, everything could end well?

 

Yuuri gave a light shrug as Amae turned a questioning face in his direction. Why was Amae looking at him? Amae should be the one to know if it was safe for him to approach Faraya. Nonetheless, were it him in Faraya's shoes, he would kill Amae. Or at the very least he would make sure Amae remembered to never mess with him again.

 

Still, Yuuri never imagined that Amae would seriously contemplate facing Faraya eye to eye and when Amae blinked out of existence in a burst of fire and appeared in the middle of the room in front of Faraya… Yuuri thought that he would just have to explain to Wolfram that Amae having a screw loose caused Amae's death. But the more worrying thought was how Amae was able to open the gate and why he had not used it earlier. Now, in the middle of the barrier, Amae would not be able to open it either, so there was no danger in him helping Faraya escape. But it still was somewhat unnerving, although it explained how Amae was able to appear on Mearan on his own with Wolfram's bracelet.

 

Amae fell to the floor with a thud when the king backhanded him in the face. Drawn swords hissed and armor jingled, but Yuuri's raised hand stopped the guards from rushing forward. Not that they could have gotten through the barrier to do anything anyway. Yuuri could tell that if Faraya wanted the concubine dead, he would already be dead. This was just a measure of correcting Amae's behavior and making sure he would not repeat the same mistake again. Not that he or Faraya believed that it would be of any use.

 

“What the fuck do you think you are doing?” Faraya hissed down at the concubine, gasping in pain at the king's feet. “Thwarting my plans and jeopardizing my life!” he shouted. “And for what?! For whom?! -Wolfram? You know the bastard will slit your throat as soon as he gets his hands on you! Do you know how much was at stake?!”

 

“You know,” Amae muttered while wiping the blood off his split lip, “I don't really care about all of that. You idiots can kill each other off for all I care. I think I clearly said that I wanted no part in this. You know that besides having obligations to you, I also owed him. And if it cost both our lives - so be it.”

 

Enraged, Faraya grabbed Amae by the front of his tunic, lifting him off the ground easily. “I'll just kill you now if you want to die so badly!” He shook the concubine furiously, almost strangling him. “You betrayed me because of him again! Who? Who is more important to you?!”

 

Amae managed a bitter smile. Was Faraya jealous? What idiocy, all of this. “Who? No, “what”. One has to finally stop running blindly after others.” He staggered briefly as Faraya suddenly released his grip on Amae's tunic, but before he could regain his balance he doubled over in pain as Faraya punched him in the stomach.

 

“You ungrateful bitch!”

 

Gasping in pain, Amae spat the blood from his mouth. “It's because I was made into one! And, you know…? I think I fit that role, don't I?”

 

Growling in fury, Faraya grabbed him by his hair, lifting him. He drew his arm back, but the blow never came. Instead, Faraya shoved Amae back onto the carpet. “I can't believe you did it again,” he hissed at the concubine sprawled out on the floor. “Fucked everything up again.”

 

“Oh yes, I'm good at fucking,” Amae chuckled, pushing himself up to his knees. He spat the blood out of his mouth. Watching the blood, soaking into the carpet, he sighed. “I'm tired, Faraya. Leave me some dignity. Either kill me or let me go.”

 

Faraya snarled. “You bitch, you know I can't kill you.” He suddenly squatted down in front of the startled concubine. Grabbing Amae's bracelet, he tore it off, the small golden plates and chains jingling nearly soundlessly down onto the carpet. Faraya straightened then tossed the mangled remains of the concubine's bracelet next to him.

 

Staring at the mutilated bracelet, Amae touched his nose with his fingers gingerly. He winced at the pain. “So it ends like this?”

 

“And what do you want, Amae? A rain of tears and howls of despair? Damn it,” Faraya cursed. “This time you really did it.”

 

Amae stared at him until Faraya couldn't hold his gaze and turned away. The king started walking away.

 

“I'm sorry for being a nuisance,” Amae said to his back.

 

“Yeah. Tend to your nose. It seems to be broken,” Faraya muttered without turning around.

 

Touching his nose again, Amae watched Faraya go. He lowered his head to stare at the carpet, as Faraya disappeared behind the door to the bedroom. The only guards that were left standing close to the power barrier were Kedash and Arachi. Probably they wanted to get a move on. Yuuri had gone away the same moment Faraya left.

 

Amae dropped his forehead into his hands and gripped at his hair. It hurt, it hurt like hell… his nose, his face. And it sure as hell felt right.

 

“You'd better see Gisela,” Arachi said, motioning for Amae to stand up and leave the barrier. He frowned as the concubine ignored him. He hissed at the concubine, “Listen, you…”

 

Kedash raised his hand to stop the string of words. “Leave him,” he said. “He is of no use now.”

 

The sound of receding steps made Amae laugh hysterically. A few clear droplets joined the red stains on the carpet, soaking into it quickly. He wiped at his eyes angrily and stood up. He left the barrier but his strength failed him and he squatted down on the carpet again.

 

“Damn,” Amae muttered a few seconds later. “A mere guard… That's rich.”

 

“Let's not indulge in self-pity now. C'mon, stand up and I'll take you to Gisela.”

 

Amae's gaze traveled along the floor until he came to the tips of Arachi's boots. He had not heard the royal guard approach. “You are too nice. Really. I might consider falling in love with you.”

 

“That might have worked twenty years ago,” Arachi said, lifting Amae off the floor. “Now my husband wouldn't be too happy about it.” After a few seconds of hesitation, Arachi also took the torn bracelet and its pieces from the carpet and secured them in his pocket. He lifted Amae's head to inspect his face, ignoring the glistening tracks of tears running down both of Amae's cheeks. “He really broke your nose.”

 

Amae rolled his eyes. The motion hurt. He let himself be supported and led through the castle. In one of the corridors they stopped and Arachi knocked at the door. Once inside, Gisela gave Amae some medicine that, according to the smell, he identified as soporifics. It meant his nose was out of place and she intended to set it. Without a protest he emptied the cup. He did not think it could get worse.

 

“Hold his head,” Gisela told Arachi after Amae slumped onto the sofa to lie there heavily and unmoving.

 

“Is the medicine not enough?”

 

“It's not very strong. I'm afraid any other means that I have might do some damage to him.”

 

“Mmm?” Arachi wondered. He squatted down at the sofa, brushed aside Amae's hair that was getting in the way and firmly took the younger man's head in his palms.

 

“He's of mixed blood. I don't know how one or another medicine might work on him. It's like with our King. Wild guesses might make things worse and shouldn't be tested.”

 

“Oh. I get it.” Arachi braced himself as Gisela leaned over the concubine.

 

Amae actually shrieked, then tried to hit Gisela, but never got to it as the pain was suddenly gone. His eyes closing, he sank back into a drug induced sleep.

 

“That's it,” Gisela said, leaving the sofa and going over to a bowl filled with water to wash her hands. “You can either leave him here or take him back to his room. He should stay out for some three to four hours.” After drying her hands she approached her desk and took a bottle from it. It was the same medicine she had just used on Amae. “Tell him to add a few drops into his tea if he still feels pain after waking up. I'm going to check on the prince.”

 

Arachi nodded before taking the bottle. “Alright.”

 

Arachi carried Amae back into his room. There were no guards at its door. Arachi left Amae sleeping in his bed and called two castle guards to ensure that Amae did not leave the room.

 

XXXXX

 

Yuuri watched Murata and Nuuos playing cards. The fourth ruler was no longer depressed. His undying love for Eola died exactly a day later after he learned that she had run off with some other man. Sarcastically, Yuuri thought that whatever the man lacked in brain department, his manly ego was full-fledged.

 

“So, Nuuos, how many elements do you wield?”

 

From the cards in his hands Nuuos looked at Yuuri. “Earth, water and air. Three,” he counted.

 

“I see.”

 

“My favorite is that of earth.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I love canyons. There's nothing like standing on the edge of an abyss.”

 

“We tend not to do that in Shin Makoku,” Yuuri politely warned him, now even more concerned about Nuuos' mental state. “You know, houses falling apart, people dying and stuff…”

 

“Oh. Right,” Nuuos nodded.

 

Yuuri doubted that Nuuos knew what sarcasm was. He was not sure how to deal with the other ruler. He thought that this worrisome visitor needed a nanny or a good doctor. “When are you going back to Aliran?”

 

“Right after getting myself a wife.”

 

Yuuri stared at him. “Is there a lack of them on Aliran?” he finally asked. He did not want to be pushy, but he knew he would feel calmer with Nuuos far away from Shin Makoku and Mearan. Besides, Nuuos was a sore spot.

 

“Oh no, but the local women are so pretty! Especially that green-haired one.”

 

Ruefully, Yuuri turned his eyes to Murata. Murata nodded. Yes, it was Gisela. “She's already married,” Yuuri lied even before thinking. Gisela had better thank him later.

 

“Pity.”

 

“Yes,” Yuuri agreed. He wondered if Nuuos had been like this from the day he was born or it happened after he had contracted three elements at once. He was afraid that one day it might happen to him turning him into a powerful simpleton. A danger to the kingdom he ruled over and the people he loved. Or to Lakarde who was already showing signs of inconsistency and was worrying him. In any case, Nuuos was a walking reminder that Yuuri did not want to have running here and there, unsupervised and uncontrolled, out of his sight.

 

“Murata?” Yuuri asked. “Where do you know Nuuos from?”

 

“Oh,” Nuuos all but grinned, “we are old friends.”

 

Yuuri's demanding look made Murata sigh. “It's just as he says - we are old friends.”

 

“How old are you, Nuuos?”

 

“Me? Hmm…” he wondered. “I would say about some three hundred. I'm not sure.”

 

Yuuri coughed. When the shock subsided, he asked, “And how old were you when you met Murata for the first time?”

 

“I don't know. Ten? Twenty? No, younger.”

 

“I see.” Yuuri's eyes went to Murata again. “Anything else you'd want to add?”

 

“Not really,” Murata shrugged. “Unless it is that I have bad luck in cards.” He tossed them onto the table in front of Nuuos. “You won.”

 

“Yay!”

 

XXXXX

 

Yuuri shot up in the bed. Alert, he looked around in the bedroom. It did not seem that anything was out of order. Confused, he rubbed his forehead, then jolted as a shriek sounded right next to him. He lowered his hand.

 

“Wolfram?” He shook his husband gently. Wolfram's entire body jerked at the touch. He screamed again, and Yuuri removed his hand, unsure. Wolfram seemed to be trapped in a nightmare; his breathing was becoming faster, his body writhing.

 

“Wolfram, do you hear me?” Yuuri tried again. “It's just a dream, Wolfram!” As it was fruitless, he grabbed the blond by his shoulders and shook the blond with all his might. The sound that left Wolfram's throat was like that of a wounded animal. His hands flailed about, seemingly trying to push Yuuri away but having absolutely no coordination.

 

Yuuri's hand rose above Wolfram's face. A strident slap rang in the bedroom at the same time as its door burst open and a handful of guards rushed in. All of them stared at the pair on the bed.

 

Wolfram gasped like he was drowning, his eyes shooting open. “Yuu-!” he gasped again, sitting up, almost throwing Yuuri off him. “Yuuri!”

 

“Shh,” Yuuri shushed his husband, taking his head between his hands and turning the blond's face to him. “I'm here. See? It's okay. You had a nightmare.”

 

Wolfram stared at him without blinking for a few moments as if this were the first time he was seeing his husband. Then his body turned liquid and he slumped back into the pillows. Yuuri watched his panting husband for a few seconds then gently touched his shoulder.

 

“Wolfram?”

 

Loudly, Wolfram swallowed the saliva that had gathered in his mouth. He opened his eyes to look at Yuuri's worried face.

 

“I'm alright,” he muttered, rubbing his forehead, a faint tremor evident in his hand. “I just…just…”

 

“Yeah,” Yuuri reached to brush his fingers through the hair at Wolfram's temple, feeling the sweat that dampened the golden strands and a flush of heat from Wolfram's skin, “you just had a nightmare. You are somewhat feverish,” he said, retracting his fingers. “Should I call Gisela?”

 

Wolfram shook his head. “No. I'll just go back to sleep. Tell them to go away.”

 

“Mm? Oh.” Yuuri turned to the door where the guards were still standing, not sure whether they should go back to their posts or stay in case they might be needed. “You can go back to your posts.” Yuuri turned back to Wolfram. He seemed to be sleeping again. Yuuri watched his husband's sleeping face and felt waves of fury and hate engulfing him. Faraya was going to pay for this.

 

XXXXX

 

Wolfram woke up thirsty. Dizzy, he raised his head to look around. Yuuri was peacefully sleeping beside him. Wolfram looked at the table standing in the middle of the bedroom where a few decanters with water and liquor stood. Yuuri started and woke up as Wolfram shifted in the bed, intending to get up.

 

“Wh-what?” Yuuri muttered, sitting up in the bed, still half-asleep. Blankly, he stared at his husband's back. “Where are you going?”

 

Wolfram turned around at Yuuri's alarmed voice. “I'm going to get myself a glass of water.”

 

“I'll get it for you. Stay in the bed.”

 

Giving a slight shrug, Wolfram lay back again.

 

“Feeling better?”

 

“Yeah,” Wolfram nodded. “Somewhat dizzy and disoriented, but it's much better than yesterday.”

 

“I presume it's because you haven't tried to stand up.”

 

“Mmm?” Wolfram drawled. “Yeah, very likely.” He rolled over onto his back to watch his husband pouring him a glass of water. He sat up to take it when Yuuri carried it over to him. “Thanks.”

 

Yuuri leaned in to kiss him on the brow. “You're welcome.” He carefully - so as not to spill Wolfram's glass - sat down next to the blond. Wrapping his arms around Wolfram's waist, he leaned the blond against him. He listened to Wolfram drinking, then put rested his cheek on Wolfram's head.

 

Wolfram finished his water, resting his hands cradling the glass in his lap, and the two of them sat like that for a minute.

 

“Did he touch you?”

 

Wolfram stiffened at the unexpected question. He tried to turn to face Yuuri, but the arms around his waist tightened, preventing him from moving.

 

“No, he didn't.” Wolfram could feel tension and what felt like a cold wave radiating from behind him. Did Yuuri suspect something? “I don't think I would remember even if he did,” he admitted. “Most of the time I was unconscious.”

 

“Wolfram…” Yuuri started anger coloring his voice, but then stopped.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing,” Yuuri muttered. “When I think that… I'll make sure he pays dearly. And Amae…”

 

“Leave Amae out of this.”

 

Yuuri's eyes darkened at Wolfram's resolute voice. “What do you mean `leave him out of this'? He's involved. Even if he came here to…”

 

“Yuuri, leave him alone. Alright?”

 

No, it was not alright, but Yuuri nodded, giving in. “He's locked in his room. He can summon a gate, which makes it absolutely pointless. But I don't think he has anywhere to go anyway.”

 

“Mm?”

 

“Faraya got fed up with him.”

 

“It's over between them?”

 

“It seems so.”

 

“Good.”

 

Yuuri felt Wolfram's body become heavy against his. The blond was starting to nod off. “Do you want to eat? I could bring…”

 

“No, `m just sleepy,” Wolfram mumbled.

 

After plucking the glass out of the blond's hands and setting it on the floor, gently Yuuri laid Wolfram down onto the bedding then climbed out of the bed and started dressing. “If you need something call the guards. Someone will be stationed right outside the door at all times.” Wolfram hummed something, and Yuuri wondered if he had understood anything.

 

XXXXX

 

“Thanks,” Wolfram said, taking the cup with medicine that Gisela had offered him. “I feel much better.” He slowly drained the cup then held it out for Gisela to take.

 

“Does the shoulder still hurt?” Gisela asked.

 

“Somewhat.” Wolfram rolled his right shoulder tentatively and winced. He could not remember what happened, but logically assumed that he must have sprained it while struggling at some point.

 

“Would you like a massage?”

 

“Yes, I think it would help.”

 

Gisela nodded. “I'll just get the ointment.” She stood up and left the room, taking the empty cup with her.

 

Wolfram started removing his shirt. After shrugging it off and flinching a few times, he tossed it on the nearby chair. Then he lay back into the bedding and turned on his stomach, resting his head on his folded arms, so that his back was bare down to his waist. There was a knock on the door.

 

“Come in.”

 

“Your Highness?”

 

“Hn?” Wolfram raised his head, a little surprised as instead of Gisela it was one of his bodyguards.

 

“Sederu asks for an audience.”

 

“Sederu?” Wolfram frowned, then a face floated out of his memories of twenty years ago to fit the surname. “Oh, you mean Amae?”

 

“Yes, the concubine, Sir,” the bodyguard specified.

 

“Let him in. Make sure there are guards around him, though.”

 

“Yes, Sir.”

 

“Hello, Amae,” Wolfram greeted the black-haired male, pushing up until he was sitting up in the bed. He was surprised to see that Amae had not changed at all from the last time he saw him.

 

The concubine threaded into the bedroom. “Your Highness,” he bowed.

 

“There's no need to be so formal. After all, we know each other pretty well.”

 

“Alright.”

 

“Was there something in particular you wanted?”

 

“No, not really,” Amae shook his head. “I just…”

 

“Your Highness?”

 

Wolfram turned to the door where Gisela appeared, holding a bottle of ointment in her right hand.

 

“Ah, just wait for a moment,” Wolfram said. He turned back to the concubine.

 

Amae shrugged. “Well, I'm glad you're better. See you.”

 

“Yeah. Don't get on Yuuri's nerves. Just a warning.”

 

Amae chuckled. “I think it's already too late.”

 

Wolfram lay back down on his stomach when Amae left. Sullen, he stared at the headboard while Gisela massaged his shoulders and back. He and Amae were square now, but for some reason he somehow felt that Amae had paid more than he had earned twenty years ago. And Wolfram did not like to feel indebted.

 

After leaving the royal chambers, Amae turned back toward his room. He had nowhere else to go anyway. He was disappointed. He was not sure what he had been expecting from the meeting with Wolfram, but… He felt as if there should have been more to it than just an exchange of pointless words. Although… Maybe there had been more, but it had not been said in words. Wolfram had forgiven him. Maybe Wolfram was never angry with him to start with. For some reason… For some reason, five years ago when he left with Faraya, he had thought that Wolfram would not have been very surprised.

 

Amae halted in his path as he saw a blond boy of about ten or twelve years old walking his way. Amae stared at Lakarde for a few moments, as the green-eyed boy stared back. There was no need to ask whose child he was. Smiling, Amae reached out, intending to touch Lakarde's hair. The child stepped out from under his hand before it could touch him. Amae's smile brightened at the kid's shyness. He reached out again, but then was stopped by the warning greenness that suddenly flared in Lakarde's eyes.

 

“I don't get it,” Lakarde said. “And Kyota was pining over someone like you..?”

 

His hand still hanging in the air, with a started expression on his face, Amae watched the kid's retreating back as Lakarde dismissed Amae from his attention and continued down the corridor.

 

A second later Amae lowered his hand. “Well, I don't get it either,” he muttered.

 

TBC

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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