Kyou Kara Maou Fan Fiction ❯ Inexorable Flow ❯ Part 24 ( Chapter 24 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

By: chayron

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)

Part 24

His Highness, the Royal Consort arrived two days later. With interest, the students clung to the windows as a fancy carriage pulled by six horses turned into the yard of the Academy. It stopped right at the main entrance. A guard rushed to open door of the carriage, and revealed the King's wedded husband, the second most powerful man on the planet.

Wolfram von Bielefeld stepped out of the carriage and started walking towards the entrance. Fascinating. The way the man moved, with grace and self-confidence, was enthralling. The class fell completely silent when the prince's luminous green eyes rose upward to skim over the windows filled with mesmerized students.

Awestruck, Dimera turned to look at Lakarde. Would a day come when Lakarde would be just like…? With a sharp intake of air, Dimera's thoughts stopped abruptly. Everybody in the classroom was staring at Lakarde. Unlike them, Lakarde had stayed sitting in his place.

“What?” Lakarde glared at them.

The lesson was resumed, but a few minutes later, Lakarde was called out of the classroom.

XXXXX

“Father.”

Lakarde closed the door behind himself tightly. He was being shaken by a nervous apprehension but also was relieved that his father came to see him first instead of the head of the Academy. He was grateful to his father for wanting to hear everything from his mouth before getting the story from anyone else.

Wolfram nodded in greeting. His eyes followed his son silently. Lakarde looked like hell. “Lakarde.” He motioned for his son to sit down on the couch. Wolfram walked over to the table where various carafes stood. “Want anything? Some wine?”

Lakarde chewed on his lower lip. “You know I can't drink yet.”

Wolfram rolled his right shoulder. “One has to start one day. Here,” he held out a glass with a little wine in it. “How is your foot?” He asked while pouring himself one. He had been informed that Lakarde had injured his foot during the fighting.

“I'm okay.”

“Good.”

Wolfram filled the glass to the brim and sat down onto the couch next to Lakarde. He didn't want to push his son yet, but there was no time for subtleties.

“So, I'd like to hear what happened.”

Stalling for time, Lakarde brought his glass to his lips to take a sip. The liquid felt pleasant and slid easily down his throat.

“It was self-defense,” Lakarde muttered.

Wolfram nodded. “So I heard. But you almost killed him.”

Lakarde raised his glass to look at the pale gold liquid. “If I wanted him dead, he would be dead.”

Wolfram flicked Lakarde lightly on his forehead with his palm. “Don't be arrogant, son.”

With his fingers, Lakarde touched his forehead where he had been slapped. Surprised, he removed his hand and stared at his palm. “I'm not being arrogant. I only stated the truth. The only thing I did was summon my elements. I did not even give the order to attack him.”

Wolfram eyed him. “Living in a society with so much power is not an easy thing to do.”

Lakarde sighed tiredly. “I know that already. I wouldn't have killed him, really. He was summoning something and I just…” he trailed off. “I suppose all I was thinking about was beating off the oncoming attack and leave him no possibility to counterattack. But I wouldn't have killed him.”

Wolfram watched his son sipping the wine. Lakarde looked drained and seemed to have come to terms with the possible outcome. Kyota had been right - Lakarde needed a bit different handling than he had thought previously. “Be more aware next time.”

Lakarde gave him a confused look but nodded. “Of course.”

“So what happened?”

Lakarde was silent again, his lips pressed firmly together.

“Lakarde…”

“It was nothing important. Just a small scuffle.”

Wolfram started losing his patience. He couldn't ever remember his son opposing him. “Lakarde…”

Wolfram turned to the door that opened after a soft knock. He hadn't given permission to enter. Standing in the doorway was a boy a little older and taller than Lakarde. He had short dark blue hair and striking eyes of the same color. His features were quite sharp already and it was obvious that a few years later they would become even more so. He had thin lines of dark and strict eyebrows. Due to his coloring Wolfram immediately identified him as a Mazoku. The young man gave a deep bow. He seemed to be resolute about whatever he was intending to do.

“Your Highness,” he started, “may I speak?”

Wolfram thought about rebuking the youngster and sending him the hell away, but the way the boy cast a worried look at Lakarde made him falter. This was getting interesting.

“You may. Only it would be nice if I knew your name.”

The blue-haired youngster blushed fiercely. “I'm sorry, sir. I'm Dimera von Rikota.” He gave another deep bow.

Wolfram was intrigued. He knew von Rikotas - they were a very rich and influential family which shared a border with von Voltaire's lands. He had business with some of them on and off and they had made a quite pleasant impression on him, which was not that common.

“Alright, Dimera,” Wolfram nodded. “What did you want to say?”

The boy straightened. “Lakarde was not the one to start the fight. The other boys started picking on Sarik. He accidentally tripped one of the boys, then Lakarde came to help him and the fight started and…”

“…You joined in,” Wolfram finished for him, pointing at the Dimera's scratched cheek. “Now, what are the names of those who bullied that Sarik? And who the hell is Sarik?”

Dimera wavered. “Sir…” he drawled.

“Listen,” Wolfram snapped, “I'm not going to run back and forth from home each time you brats punch your snotty noses. Let's deal with this once and for all. Who was first to assault Sarik?”

“Well, I'm not sure, b…”

“Dimera, keep your mouth shut.”

Wolfram gave his son a scorching glare, almost regretting having been so lenient with him. After turning back to Dimera, he saw the boy's eyes running back and forth from him to Lakarde. It was obvious that now the boy wasn't going to speak.

“Fine, whatever!” Wolfram threw up his hands. He had no time for this. “You can go, Dimera.”

“Thank you, Sir.” With a bow, Dimera left the room.

Sighing, Wolfram pushed himself off of the couch and crossed the room, his boot heels ringing on each stride. Reaching the table he sat his glass down, toyed with the idea of pouring himself more wine, but decided no and sat down at the table. Feeling that all of this wasn't worth the effort, and already losing interest, he tapped his fingers on the table. “You know, you could invite Dimera to visit us. He seems to be quite an interesting boy. From a good family, too.”

Lakarde's stony facial expression crumbled instantly, his skin flushing red. Wolfram gave him an amused grin; youngsters were so easy to figure out, their emotions bare to anyone who wanted to see them. He waited for Lakarde to answer, but, just as he expected, got nothing.

“Do you want to leave here?” Wolfram asked.

Nervous, Lakarde shook his head. “Of course, no. Now it would look as if I were running away.”

“It is also something that one could call a strategic retreat. There is no need to stay here if you hate it.”

“I want to stay.”

“Alright, you can stay,” Wolfram nodded, noticing relief pass over Lakarde's face. Reaching out, he lifted the wine bottle and held it out in invitation. “Want some more?”

Lakarde nodded. “Thank you.” He held out his empty glass for his father to take.

A few minutes later, from the chair, one elbow propped up on the table and his head resting on his hand as he watched his son sipping the wine, Wolfram grinned. “You know, you could at least look as if you got scolded. Just to keep things in balance…”

Lakarde blushed lightly. “I… I want to thank you, Father. For…”

Wolfram chuckled, waving that off. He got more serious then. “Lakarde, I won't control your activities. But I demand that you don't do anything drastic. It is for your own sake.”

Lakarde nodded. “I understand, Father.”

“Another thing. The boy who attacked you, he might… Don't attack him first, but…”

Lakarde hid a biting smile behind his glass. “…But if he is first to come at me, I'll make him regret that he ever set eyes on me. After this incident, it will be much simpler to manipulate everyone. All of it will obviously be his fault.”

Frowning a bit, Wolfram sipped his wine. “And where the hell did you get that cunning, eh?”

Lakarde raised his glass to toast him. “I learned from the best.”

“What did I say about being arrogant?”

“I'm sorry, Father,” Lakarde apologized.

Wolfram sighed. It was way too late to try to nurture his son. Besides, Lakarde had only stated the truth anyway.

XXXXX

Dimera was not so sure what to think about himself. Here he was, in the conference hall, hiding in the cabinet and praying that nobody would open it. He had no idea either how a request to go to the bathroom had turned into this.

The Royal Consort, the head of the Academy and the superintendent had secluded themselves in the conference hall a few minutes ago and now were getting done with the formality of greetings.

“Can I get you something, Your Highness?”

“Yes, please.”

“White, red wine, liqueur or…?”

“Thank you, white wine would be fine.”

Dimera heard someone approaching the table that was near the cabinet, then the clinking sounds of glassy containers were heard.

“Your Highness, no matter how unpleasant it is, let us discuss the reason for Your Highness' visit today,” the head started.

“Yes,” von Bielefeld agreed. “First of all, I would like to say that I appreciate such a quick resolution to the incident. It seems that you have dealt with the situation in the best way possible.”

“Thank you. Nonetheless, I must say that I am a little worried about Your Highness' son's actions during the incident.” Dimera knew that tone of voice. It appeared that the Academy Head was being very careful in how he expressed his concerns.

“Oh, there is nothing to worry about,” came the smooth reply. “Lakarde has assured me that it was nothing more than self-defense.”

“Your Highness, I have been informed that the amount of power that the boy had used was excessive and dangerous to the surrounding students.”

In the cabinet, Dimera shook his head in disagreement.

“On the contrary.” Dimera could hear the clink of a glass being set down. “I was informed that the culprit who began this entire incident endangered all the students by summoning his fire element. My son was the one who eliminated the danger and made sure that the culprit would not be able to repeat his actions.”

There was a long pause during which it became clear to Dimera that Wolfram von Bielefeld would rather burn the Academy to ashes than let someone lay a finger on his son.

“I see…” the Head drawled.

“I'm glad you do.”

There was a pregnant pause again.

“There is no need for commendation, of course,” von Bielefeld's voice had an amused note in it. “But Lakarde said that his foot does not hurt anymore, and I would be glad if you made sure he attends the physical education classes.”

“Yes, Your Highness. But there is another thing I am concerned about.” The Academy's Head paused a moment before he continued. “Your Highness' son is able to use two elements and I wanted to inquire about the boy's stability.”

Dimera heard the sofa creak which must have shown von Bielefeld's irritation. “I thought we already discussed this before I submitted the documents for Lakarde's admission.”

“Well, yes, Your Highness, but at that time I didn't know that neither of his elements is dormant. And after the accident I was informed that he was able to use them both astonishingly well.”

“True,” a note of pride could be heard threading its way through the response. “It is hard to tell the difference, although his water element is more passive.”

“It does not happen very often that a person is able to use a couple of elements so well and still be…stable,” the head insisted.

“That is true,” von Bielefeld agreed again. “Lakarde…” he trailed off.

Von Bielefeld seemed to be looking for the right words, and Dimera found himself anxiously waiting for the long pause to end.

“Lakarde can deal with tension or fast changing situations unexceptionably well,” the prince said finally. “But he tends to snap if provoked. Then he is aggressive and dangerous to surrounding people. Do not try to take him down by force in that case. Your best course of action would be not to even try talking to him, just leave him alone to cool down. He calms down pretty fast.”

“I see…” the head drawled. “It is a quite serious problem…”

“Any past incidents have not been very serious and all kinds of accidents happen to all people; we all snap at one or another point,” von Bielefeld noted. “There is no reason for being overly concerned. Of course, my husband can use all four elements pretty well and nothing has happened that would suggest that His Majesty is not stable.”

Dimera heard the quick intake of breath that told him that the Head tensed up after the mentioning of the king. At least von Bielefeld's words had that effect on him. He was not so sure if von Bielefeld had used this only as an example or as a means to shut the Head up. In any case, it seemed to work.

“I understand Your Highness' position. As long as the boy has not caused any trouble, everything is fine.”

“Good.” The word oozed a false pleasantry. “Another thing. Make sure that the boy who attacked my son does not repeat that mistake again, or there might be some really serious trouble; Lakarde is a vindictive boy. We might not be so lucky next time.”

“I understand, Your Highness.”

There was a pause again.

“Lakarde is a good and disciplined child,” von Bielefeld said. “The problem is that some situations in life call for a bit different handling. All in all, I think he did quite well. Now, if you still feel that the boy must be punished - just make him join the chorus. That should make everyone happy.”

The Head was silent for a few moments and Dimera thought that he was wondering as well whether von Bielefeld was serious or not.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

XXXXX

Wolfram von Bielefeld left the same day he arrived as if he had never been there. The next day the lessons were resumed and it didn't seem that anything had changed.

“Lakarde,” the tutor called out after the lesson had ended, “will you stay for a moment?”

“Yes, Sir.” Lakarde walked over to stand before the tutor.

“I was asked to tell you that at six o'clock you are expected to be in the music chamber.”

Dimera noticed Lakarde's eyes widen and realized that Wolfram von Bielefeld knew his son pretty well.

“Yes, I'll be there,” Lakarde nodded finally. He slumped onto the instructor's desk after the tutor walked away. “Damnit, Father,” he groaned.

“Hey, it can't be that bad.”

Lakarde started. He raised his head to look at Dimera. He shrugged then. “You haven't heard me sing yet.”

“Well, I'm sure I'll have an opportunity later today.”

“Hmm?”

Dimera grinned at him. “Well, yesterday I joined the chorus.”

“You knew.” Then Lakarde realized that Dimera choosing to enter the chorus did not surprise him in the least. As if he had almost expected it.

“Yes, I heard your father and the head talking about it.”

Lakarde laid his head back onto the desk and stared at the wall in front of him. “My father said I should invite you to visit us.”

“Oh.”

“He also said you were quite an interesting boy. Coming from him it means he liked you.”

“That's nice. So…will you?”

“Will I what?”

“Invite me to visit you?”

Lakarde sighed. He rolled his head so that he could see Dimera. “I just did, idiot.” He shrugged as Dimera chuckled at that. “I think both of our families would benefit if the ties between them were strengthened.” Lakarde saw the other boy frown at that. Lakarde sighed again then put his chin on his hands while his gaze concentrated on the blackboard. “It's not that. I… Well, I think I'm not interested in those kinds of…activities yet.”

“You mean sex?”

Lakarde pursed his lips then ruffled through his hair to hide his discomfort. Dimera, for some reason, made him always feel uncomfortable. “Yeah.”

Dimera gazed down at the other boy's shoulders for a few moments then shrugged. “It's not a problem. I can wait.”

“I think I like women better.”

Dimera burst out laughing.

“What's so funny?”

The other boy grinned at him. “Lakarde, your excuses won't work on me. Don't give me that bullshit, alright? You may be not that interested yet, but I've seen you checking out a few boys in the baths.”

Lakarde blushed fiercely. He was not sure what to say, so just put his chin back onto his hands and remained silent. The silence seemed to stretch for quite a long time. Dimera shifted next to Lakarde and the blond closed his eyes while trying to think of something to say.

“I…” Lakarde's breath caught in his throat suddenly, and he tensed. Something…something was touching his nape and it was warm and wet and it was moving down his neck, to the collar. Dumbfounded, he stared in front of himself. The heat that instantly spread over his face and entire body made Lakarde dizzy. And Dimera's mouth was still…and now his hand…

“Hey, Dimera, where the hell… Oh…”

Dimera raised his head to see his roommate giving him an apologetic look for intruding. The boy turned to go. “I'll just…”

They both looked at Lakarde who suddenly grabbed his bag. The boy shot around the desk and sprinted past Dimera's roommate and out of the classroom without a glance back.

Dimera leaned on the desk, sighing. “Great timing, asshole.”

His roommate scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Heh. Sorry about that.”

“Yeah,” Dimera muttered.

“Hmm...” the boy cast a look over Dimera who was gathering his books from his desk a row farther away. “You seem to be pretty serious about him,” he wondered.

“Of course. He is the man whom I'm going to marry.”

“Idiot.”

Dimera grinned. “Why? He said his father himself approved of me.”

“Sure,” his friend snickered. “He just went and said: You're welcome to have a go at my minor son.”

Dimera scratched his head. “Well, when you put it that way…”

“Don't you worry about it,” his friend said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “The worst that can happen for touching the son of the Prince Consort is just to get beheaded.”

Huffing, Dimera leaned back on his desk. “Yeah, even I don't have the balls for that.” He shrugged then. “Well, a couple of years won't change much. I can wait.”

XXXXX

Lakarde blushed lightly when after opening the door to the music room he met Dimera's eyes. Lowering his head, he turned to the row of chairs that stood on the other end of the room. Ignoring the other boy, he passed him and sat down. The teacher was not here yet, the boys that had gathered horsing about.

“Hey.”

Lakarde gave an acknowledging nod to Dimera who had approached him. The blond wasn't sure how to act while the other boy was taking a seat next to him.

“Can't you sit somewhere else?”

Dimera gave him a scrutinizing look. “Wow. That's a quite impressive way to kick one in his balls.” He frowned as Lakarde didn't say anything. “C'mon, did I give you that much of a scare that you won't even talk to me now?”

“Dimera?” Lakarde said finally turning to look at him. “Why the fuck did you do that?”

Dimera turned sideways and leaned closer to him so that others wouldn't hear. “For the same reason you've wanted me to,” he said softly.

“I did not w…!” Lakarde fell silent as he saw Dimera chuckle. The older boy was only teasing him. “Asshole,” Lakarde muttered.

“Well, let's just say, I've wanted to do that since that fight in the baths.”

“What a load of bullshit.”

“Oh, this isn't bullshit, no.” Dimera leaned in to whisper to him. “And I will make you realize that I'm serious about you.”

Lakarde stared at him for a few seconds then turned away unimpressed. The door opened to let the tutor in.

“There are at least ten other boys who swore the same fucking thing to me,” Lakarde said in an annoyed tone.

“You're just bragging now. And none of them was as serious as me, though.”

Lakarde's head snapped to him. “Look me in the face!” he hissed suddenly.

Dimera inhaled sharply as he was grabbed by the front of his shirt and pulled closer to Lakarde.

“You know, if you want something pretty to look at, I'll give you my picture,” Lakarde growled out. “It wouldn't require so much effort in waging your tongue either.” He shoved Dimera away from him. He gave a short smile to the tutor and the boys who were looking at him and Dimera. The tutor turned away.

“You are mistaken, Lakarde,” Dimera said softly while fixing his shirt. “I'm serious about you.”

“Shut the hell up. The tutor is looking at us.”

“We have two new students today,” the Music tutor said. “Dimera von Rikota and Lakarde von Bielefeld. Let's welcome them.”

“Hello,” Lakarde stood up. He bowed. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Dimera here,” Dimera waved his hand after standing up. “Hello again.”

“Yes, Dimera,” the tutor nodded. “After seeing your name on the list again I did have a question. What are you doing here? I thought two years ago you quit for good?”

“I did pay for that piano, didn't I?” Dimera muttered.

“Well, you did. But I will toss you out again if you as much as touch anything in this room.”

“That's fine,” Dimera glared at him. “I'll try not to.”

The tutor shrugged. “Well, okay. I'd like to hear our new students sing or show some other musical activity. Dimera, as I know perfectly well that the only thing you are good at is breaking musical instruments, you can join the boys over there,” the tutor pointed at the tables next to the piano. “Come here, Lakarde. You will sing gamut, and Kiara will play the piano.”

Lakarde was looking at the piano as if it were his most hated enemy. “Alright,” he said finally while coming up to it. “I must warn you that you won't enjoy this.”

Kiara started playing and the entire room went silent when Lakarde opened his mouth and started to sing.

The tutor seemed to have gone into shock.

With his eyebrows raised, Dimera stared at the blond. Then he covered his mouth with his hand so as not to burst out laughing. The boys around him were sniggering quite openly. There were some people who couldn't and should never be allowed to sing. Lakarde was one of them. He was not only tone-deaf, he also had no voice.

“Why did you actually join?” the teacher asked Lakarde timidly after the boy had finished the gamut. He was afraid to even think that he was going to have to work with the boy.

“I didn't. Someone, namely my father, thought that it would be a great way to entertain everybody.”

“You sure did,” Dimera grinned at him. “You know,” he said, “I think they will regret having ever let you step into this room.”

Lakarde said nothing then, just sighed.

“Well… You do realize that you are a rather hopeless case?” the tutor asked. He ruffled through his hair rather edgily. “I don't think even a fifty-year practice would do much good…”

Lakarde rolled his eyes. “I know that. Nobody in my father's bloodline has ever been any good with music. Or art. It's like a genetic defect.”

The tutor clapped his hands, relieved and in high spirits again. “Good! Then there's no problem. You just sit quietly and pretend that you are greatly interested. If there's a concert - we'll put you in the background and you just mouth the words. Remember - don't ever try singing. Alright?”

Lakarde grinned up at the tutor. “Sounds perfect to me.”

OoOoO_ABOUT TWO YEARS LATER_OoOoO

Lakarde watched Eleonora getting into the carriage assisted by servants. He was still ruffled by the amount of time she had taken to prepare. It took an average man twenty minutes to get up, dress, have breakfast and saddle a horse. It had taken an hour for Eleonora simply to dress.

Wolfram watched the discontent reflect on his son's facial features. He suppressed a chuckle. So much for his Entrusted Lady's tries to find Lakarde a noble girlfriend.

“Why do I have to accompany her?” Lakarde whined as if on cue. “She's driving me crazy with her idiotic talk about fashion and bedroom decorations. Can't you do that?”

Wolfram shook his head in disbelief. Was Lakarde really that clueless in this department? On the other hand, he had also been a late bloomer.

“Well, I obviously did not invite her for my personal amusement…” Wolfram drawled.

Lakarde's eyes widened as it finally dawned on him.

Wolfram sighed. “Do you think that I go for girls thirty years younger with underdeveloped bodies?”

“Only for cute boys.”

Wolfram and Lakarde turned around to see Amae grinning at them.

“Hey, welcome,” Wolfram nodded, chuckling. “Got my invitation to Yuuri's birthday?”

“That's why I'm here,” Amae winked. “Lots of wine and drunk naked men dancing on tables.”

“I'm not sure about Yuuri letting it go as far as that, though,” Wolfram laughed.

The lack of respect Amae showed to his father and to him irritated Lakarde. His father's familiarity with the former concubine danced on his nerves even more.

“You have grown,” Amae said to Lakarde, giving him a scrutinizing look. “Some two millimeters, I recon.”

Lakarde offered him a smile. “You have something between your teeth. Just there.” Lakarde reposted.

“Oh!” Amae gasped. He started picking at his fore-teeth. “Where is it? Where?”

Wolfram looked at his son. The lad was going to go far. “There's nothing there, Amae.”

“Little ba-” Amae closed his mouth. “Such a cute boy,” he patted Lakarde on the head.

Wolfram could imagine that if Lakarde had a sword at his side, he would probably have cut Amae's hand neatly off. He had no idea why Amae liked messing around with his son.

Lakarde opened his mouth to say something but it closed shut as soon as his eyes set on three carriages rolling in through the gate. Each of them had a lily and a sword on their doors - the coat of arms of von Rikotas.

The carriages stopped at the main entrance, at the bottom of the stairs where the three men were standing. Wolfram noticed Lakarde's eyes linger on every person climbing out of the carriages. He knew perfectly well who Lakarde was looking for. Wolfram was sure that Dimera came, because while writing the invitation he had made sure that Dimera's name had been included right next to his parents'. He figured that von Rikotas would have taken their oldest son with them even without the special invitation (just as all the families that had children of similar age to Lakarde did) but he had wanted to make sure.

Finally, Lakarde noticed a blue-haired youth jumping out of the carriage. Dimera felt someone looking at him and turned around. He offered Lakarde a short smile when their eyes met.

Lakarde smiled back awkwardly, and Wolfram suppressed a chuckle. Eleonora's one-hour-lasting dressing-up and entire existence was mercilessly wiped out by one short offhand smile.

“Why don't you ask that von Rikota boy to join you and Eleonora?” Wolfram suggested innocently. “He might draw her attention to himself and you will be saved.”

Lakarde gave him an accusing look, and Wolfram realized that his son was not as clueless as he thought. Chuckling lightly, Wolfram offered his son an apologetic smile. Without saying a word, Lakarde went downstairs to join Eleonora in the carriage for a few hours ride in the park.

“Do I smell romance?” Amae, who had seen Lakarde's reaction, interested.

“Depends on which one you're talking about.”

“The von Rikota boy, as you called him, of course. Is it a good family?”

“And what do you care?” Wolfram wondered. He turned to go back into the Castle. “Yes, they are pleasant and smart people,” he said without waiting for Amae's answer.

“Noble, rich and with a good background?” Amae translated, following the blond into the hall.

“Yes, that too,” the prince nodded.

“Hey, quite a catch, then.”

“Yeah, I am of the same opinion.”

“And their thoughts, of course, are running in exactly the same direction as yours,” Amae chuckled. “Good luck with that.”

Wolfram nodded. “It all depends on Lakarde, though. I am not going to force him. I'm just going to make sure they have opportunities to meet each other and know they would be approved of.”

“Wolfram?”

“Hm?”

“How does it feel to have a son? Well, a child, I mean.”

Wolfram stopped. He turned around to face Amae. “It's strange,” he said a few seconds later. “It's like I can never get used to the idea that this person made of blood and flesh was born because of me. My son.” He gave Amae a confused look. “It's…hard to explain. It's like one moment you are alone and then there's this new life that calls you “father”. Sometimes I catch myself staring at Lakarde in disbelief and wondering whether he's really my child. Ah, I mean…”

Amae nodded. “I understand. It was the same for me and Faraya's daughter. I could not stop wondering about it. Just… That's the wonders of nature for you,” he drawled. “And it was also strange to get used to you having a child.”

“I suppose for women it's easier. They carry them inside and…”

Amae chuckled. “Easier he says. Did you ask your Entrusted Lady whether it was easy?”

“I mean they already have a strong connection and kind of…are more used to the thought that it's really there, solid and…”

Amae grinned at him. “I bet you were one of those newly-baked fathers who nearly chew their fingers off while their woman is giving birth. And then you probably went to check the cradle every five minutes just to be sure it has been born and was still there.”

“Well, yeah, probably you could say that,” Wolfram sighed. “I think I was in constant panic that something might go wrong. Like him having one arm too many or not enough or be born with some illness.”

Amae nodded. “It's normal, I suppose, especially when it's your firstborn. Actually, how does he cope with two elements?”

Wolfram shrugged. “I think it's fine. His moods have stabilized. He did not become more sociable and he still tends to snap as soon as provoked, but it's nothing major. It doesn't seem that there's any danger of him losing control over his elements.”

“Yeah, it's fun to tease him.”

“Don't overdo it. He might try to fry you one day.”

XXXXX

People were hushed and listening to the Prince Consort congratulating his husband, the King, on his forty-fifth birthday. After Wolfram had wished Yuuri strength, health and all that's best, the two shared a warm kiss then clinked their wineglasses together. Cheering, the crowd raised theirs to toast the king, then drank to him.

Grinning and thanking everyone for the good wishes and greetings, Yuuri invited everyone to enjoy the banquet. He wrapped his arm around his husband's waist and both of them turned to Yuuri's family where they were quickly surrounded by his parents, Shori and Asami.

As they had not seen each other for quite a while, Yuuri and Asami shared a longer greeting. They discussed the changes in their lives then just stood together, sipping their drinks comfortably.

Asami caught a glimpse of Kyota and a tall woman.

“So Kyota has already found another one?” he wondered. “He's fast.”

“Hmm?” Yuuri hummed while sipping from his wineglass. “Well, he's been with Leahir on and off for about ten years now. They argue, spend a few months or years separate and then go back together. If that can be called getting back together. Wolfram says that it won't ever work because they are too similar.”

Asami stood there as if he had been struck by lightning. His eyes flittered back to where Kyota and Leahir disappeared, but could not find them amidst the crowd again.

Suddenly Yuuri realized. “Oh.” He burst out laughing. “I'm sorry,” he said after managing to stifle his fit of laughter. “I didn't even think that…” he laughed again. “For some reason I didn't think that you might not know. All of us got used to that long ago.”

Asami raised his glass to take a huge gulp of wine then choked it down. He sighed. “Well, that just floored me.”

Yuuri laughed again. “Well, Leahir is not the only one who has interesting hobbies. Think about Yozak.”

Asami groaned. He raised his glass to his lips again then saw that it was empty. Saying that he was going to get more wine, he turned to the tables.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Asami apologized after walking into a person who had just moved backwards from the table. Surprised, he observed the spill of rich long hair before him. It was black. Confused, he stared at the back of the tall figure in a long tunic. Was it a woman? But the stature was quite… And black hair…in Shin Makoku?

“Asami?”

Asami's mouth opened in astonishment when the tall figure turned around to look him.

“Amae?” he squeaked. An absent thought that it was not even funny crossed his mind.

“Hey,” Amae clapped him on his shoulder. He took in the man. Asami had changed, became older. Congratulating himself on recognizing him at all, Amae toasted Asami with a glass of wine that he had in his right hand. “We haven't seen each other for some time. How are you doing? Depressed as usual?”

“Amae?”

“Mm?”

“What are you doing here?”

Amae's sapphire eyes blinked at him a few times. “Well, Wolfram was the one to invite me. I thought I could just come and drink some.”

“Not that!” Asami snapped. “You disappeared about twenty years ago! And now you just…show up again!”

“Ah,” Amae realized. He sipped his wine distractedly. “About that. It's a long story. Nobody told you?”

“No!”

Amae patted him on the shoulder again. “As said, it's a long story, but I'll enlighten you. Besides, it doesn't seem that any orgies are going to take place soon, so we have some time to spare.”

“What orgies?' Asami snapped at him.

“Not sure,” Amae shrugged. He sipped his wine again. “But I would not want to miss one if one got started.”

“Figures,” Asami muttered, casting a glance over the table looking for a bottle of wine to fill his glass. “You look superb, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Amae grinned happily. “I do try.”

“I can't believe nobody told me,” Asami sighed about fifteen minutes later after Amae finished retelling the events that took place two years ago. “So you are working under Gisela now?”

“Well, not really. Not anymore, although I suppose she feels responsible for me in some sense. I'm using her quarters. As soon as I have enough money, I'll move out.”

“Where to?”

Amae shrugged. “I haven't thought much about that yet. I just want to get farther away from the city. Maybe to another kingdom, territory or something. First I have to save up; not happening in the next decade, though. Mostly my pay happens to be carrots, radishes, chickens, pancakes and anything else people can scrape up to pay for medicine or treatments.”

“Hmm…” Asami wondered. He raised his glass to take a sip. Above the top of the glass he saw Kyota and Leahir talking to some people farther on across the room. “Kyota was pissed when you left.”

Amae followed Asami's gaze to the couple. “Yeah, he showed me exactly HOW much,” he muttered, sipping his wine. “I am glad he spared my nose, though,” he mumbled. “Who is that next to him?”

“Leahir. Yuuri said they have been together on and off for about ten years.” From the corner of his eye he watched Amae observing the couple.

“Hmm… He has got a nice style. But the make-up is too bright; it's not a carnival,” Amae said, before turning away to the table and reaching out for a sandwich.

Asami shook his head silently. It seemed that birds of a feather could tell each other apart easily. Was Kyota attracted to this kind?

“I couldn't tell it was a man,” Asami said, sipping his wine.

Amae said nothing to that. He observed the sandwich in his hand then took a tentative bite. “When you spend two hours messing around with your hair just to make it look presentable, you'll be able to as well,” he grunted out a little later. “So how is it going for you?”

“Ah, I'm married. Actually have been married…hmm…if it's in Shin Makoku terms, then for some ten years. I have a daughter and my wife is pregnant again,” he gave Amae a rather nervous look.

“What, aren't you happy?”

“Oh, I am, but you know how it is,” Asami sighed. “Children are ninety-nine percent trouble and one percent happiness. Or something like this anyway.”

“Depressed as usual, I see,” Amae concluded. He washed his sandwich down his throat with wine. At least you have someone to worry about.”

Asami laughed softly. “It doesn't sound that nice when you say it like that. What about you? Anyone to worry about?”

Amae sighed. “Only my cat.” He shrugged. “There have been a few, but… As you see, I am in a seductive mode now,” he toasted Asami.

“I think with you one can never tell. As far as I remember you're always in a seductive mode,” Asami muttered, clinking his glass with Amae's.

Amae smiled. “It's just a silly habit of mine.”

XXXXX

“Who is he?”

Kyota turned to look in the direction Leahir pointed with his chin. Leahir was looking at Amae. The former concubine was swiftly walking towards the door, oblivious to them. Amae looked splendid this evening, the uncommon jewelry and dark blue tunic was also attracting quite a lot of attention.

Kyota's eyes narrowed at the sight. “Just a random whore. He used to belong to Faraya.”

“The king that was killed by von Bielefeld? Hmm… True, his looks are worthy of a king,” Leahir drawled, and Kyota noticed real curiosity reflected on his face. “What's his name?”

“He's not worth your interest,” Kyota snickered. But he could see that it was too late already - Leahir's eyes followed Amae until the former concubine disappeared behind the door. Leahir's face held that particular “must have” look which he knew so well. “He's a half-blood and soft in the head.”

Leahir gave him a curious look. “Something is telling me that you have already tried to get under that tunic of his... And without much luck,” he added, chuckling.

Irritated, Kyota gritted his teeth. “He is a slut alright and to get there was the easiest thing ever. But I'm saying that he is a complete waste of time.”

Leahir offered Kyota a soft smile. “Then it will be really easy, right? All that's left to me will be just to decide if he really is such a waste of time, won't it?”

Kyota gave an annoyed shrug. “Whatever.”

Amused, Leahir watched Kyota walking away. He had never seen his friend react like this before. He didn't even manage to get the concubine's name out of Kyota's mouth. Despite saying all that about the black-haired man, subconsciously or not, Kyota had acted with jealousy in not wanting to let him close to the other male. It was obvious that the he cared for the black-haired man more than he let on.

With a soft smile playing on his lips, Leahir emptied his wineglass. It seemed that even Kyota the Heartbreaker had someone reject him. Naturally, it only increased his interest. It was going to be fun to play the game.

TBC