Kyou Kara Maou Fan Fiction ❯ New World ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

Yuuri felt more and more uneasy as talk about Wolfram's new status in the kingdom was discussed without the object of the discussion being there. He thought things like this should have been considered before he married Wolfram but then, it was upon his own insistence that they were married so suddenly. On the other hand, in a world wherein same sex marriages were commonplace, surely SOME thought about this should have been made! Yet there was no precedent somehow, and that made this whole discussion of the utmost importance. And it was the utter significance of this matter that made Yuuri's head ache.

 

“Your Ma—Yuuri?” Conrad apprehensively asked, managing to catch himself at the last moment. Conrad knew that Yuuri hated it when Conrad called him by the honorific, what with Conrad's having given the King his name and all that even before Yuuri was born. But Conrad felt a genuine respect for the nineteen-year-old monarch that had nothing to do with Yuuri's station so that time and again, Conrad needed to watch himself.

 

Alerted at the sound of his name, Yuuri sat up straighter and tuned in as Gwendal went over a list of a thousand-and-one recommendations for Wolfram's new title he'd penned down himself. This was going to be a LONG meeting. Yuuri hung his head for a second before once again sitting in attention to an oblivious Gwendal who didn't even look up from his list as he kept rattling off terms of designation for Yuuri to choose from.

 

Meanwhile, in the State Dining Hall, Wolfram was busy spoon-feeding Greta. Greta was already thirteen years old and a human at that, but she let the eighty-four-year-old Mazoku who looked eighteen treat her like the ten-year-old she was when Yuuri and Wolfram had first adopted her. Young though she was, she understood that on average, Mazoku age about five times slower than humans, so that she'd be about thirty before Wolfram realizes that she was not a child anymore.

 

Wolfram knew that his daughter knows that he knows he shouldn't baby her like this, but he is pretending that he doesn't know that she knows and kept feeding her as if she were an infant, time and again even wiping off whatever managed to escape those ruby-red lips which were a lot like former Queen Cecilie's, Wolfram's mother. He reasoned to himself though that if she had been Mazoku instead of human, she would still have been an infant, alright, a toddler at thirteen. That and he knows she might not take to letting him do this for her in just a couple more years. It gave him a fright, that thought, and for a moment Wolfram's blood ran cold, so cold that he'd paled.

 

“Daddy? Is something wrong? Your hands are shaking…” Greta asked agitatedly after having daintily dabbed off some of the mashed potato that stuck to a corner of her mouth because Wolfram had been fidgeting so much. “Honestly, Daddy… if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were ill!” And as if to emphasize her point, she'd even placed her hand on his cheek, as if she were checking whether he was running a fever or not.

 

Wolfram could not help but chuckle at Greta's choice of words. She was beginning to sound like him, and was that his brother Gwendal's scowl on her lips? And her brown eyes, sweet like chocolate, but focused and keen like Conrad's… it almost broke Wolfram's heart that his adopted daughter was human. She had so much of his whole family in her.

 

Wolfram bit his lip and tried to smile as best he could. “No, princess, Daddy's not ill at all,” Wolfram said indulgently. “Are you done eating? Would you like me to ask Sangria to bring you more?”

 

Greta's brows knitted together, another Shin Makoku Royal Family trait. “No thank you, Daddy. But you really should start eating. You haven't touched a thing…” she placed a hand on Wolfram's arm.

 

Wolfram considered his food. It was delectable-looking, but it seemed to him he'd lost his appetite. Still, he didn't want to be a bad example to his daughter so he started picking at his food, chewing it really slowly, but he gagged when he tried to swallow it. He felt the color rush down from his cheeks.

 

A soft knocking sound was then heard from the great wooden doors that separated the State Dining Hall from the kitchens.

 

“Hi honey!” Yuuri greeted Wolfram as he strode over to where his spouse and his daughter were, and without another word, he started eating out of Wolfram's plate. Wolfram was about to say “Leave it to you to knock in your own castle, you wimp!” but forgot when Yuuri kissed him with lips that tasted of gravy and steak.

 

“Nice of you to show up, wimp. I just finished feeding Greta. You should really be a better father, you know,” Wolfram still managed to say.

 

“I am! I left your brothers and the task of running this country for a bit so I can have some quality time with my family, didn't I?” Yuuri said, playing his “cute” card by leaning his head on Wolfram's shoulder but still continuing to eat, “And how come you never feed me?” Yuuri asked, him now being the picture of put-on innocence as he batted his eyelashes so shamelessly that Greta had started giggling. Her parents were each other's exact opposites - Yuuri with his onyx-colored eyes, sun-kissed skin and jet-black hair which contrasted and yet complemented Wolfram's bright good looks.

 

Wolfram's voice rose again. “Because you can feed yourself, wimp. You're not a child. Our daughter is though, in case you didn't notice,” Wolfram said, his voice laced with venom. Wolfram then rolled his eyes and went on with his tirade. “But if you're really going to need me to help you, okay, I'll start spoon feeding you, too,” Wolfram spat angrily at his husband. Inside though he was thanking Shinou because he would not have to force food down his own throat - not when he could shove it down Yuuri's. “Safe!” as those “basic-ball emperors” liked to yell all the time. Wolfram smirked at the thought. And Yuuri thought he didn't care about Earth sports.

 

Greta bit her lip and had a worried expression on her face. Yuuri didn't miss it. “What is it, Greta?”

 

“Daddy didn't get any breakfast this morning and he seems a little pale, Papa,” Greta began.

 

Yuuri chuckled. “Your Daddy's always been pale, Greta. It's one of the things I love most about him - his milky white skin that could give any water nymph a run for her money -“

 

Wolfram gritted his teeth as but managed to grind these words past them, “You mean I am taking care of our daughter here and you go thinking about pale-skinned water-nymphs? I ought to flambé you, you cheater!” Wolfram cried before shoving the too-full spork into Yuuri's mouth, but still remembering to grab Yuuri's head by the crown and the chin in order to move the latter's jaws to grind the food. It wouldn't do for a king who was already famous for being called a wimp by his own Consort to die of choking now, would it? Wolfram reasoned.

 

Yuuri just laughed (after he'd made sure his jaw hadn't detached). A year and a half of marriage certainly didn't change the jealous nature of his special someone, Yuuri thought, especially if that someone has been that way for eighty-four years. “Oh Wolfram, you're such a worry-wart!” Yuuri chortled. Then he stroked the now-flushing cheek and planted a kiss on Wolfram's lips.

 

Greta looked out the large bay windows and checked the garden outside which was planted to resemble a sundial. After discerning the time, Greta cleared her throat when the kiss didn't break after what the timepiece outside said to be about ten minutes in an attempt to call her parents' attention but the two seemed to have gotten lost in their own little world. Well, one can't blame her for trying. She was only thirteen, after all, she thought. She could be spared this for at least another couple of years. She shook her head and just smiled. These two could carry on like this for ages. Greta made a mental note to take notes when she got older. Much, much older. Kissing seemed so… unsanitary to her young mind.

 

“Well, at least I know I won't be an only child,” Greta said, still grinning as she closed the great doors of the State Dining Hall as softly as she could behind her.