Adorable | By : antilogicgirl Category: +G to L > Kyou Kara Maou Views: 4166 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Kyou Kara Maou, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Title: “Adorable”
Series: Kyou Kara Maou
Author: antilogicgirl
Legal Stuffiness: I do not own Kyou Kara Maou, or any of the characters therein. Tomo Takabayashi, owner.
Gwendel groaned. The sun was falling fast toward the horizon, casting long shadows in the room, and lending an orange glow to everything else. It had been a very long day. If he was not playing referee between his brother and His Majesty, he had been going through countless papers. And then there was that terrifying half hour right around lunch time when he had been forced to flee for his own sanity as Anissina arrived with yet another of her machines for him to test. He groaned again. It was days like this that made him wish for a simpler, quieter life.
The door swung open, banging against the wall, and he looked up to see the absolute last person he felt like talking to, or even seeing. “Von Voltaire…” There was a hard edge to Günter’s voice and a deep crease between his eyebrows. “Did I not ask you to take care of Gretta?” Gwendel looked down at his papers again, the better to conceal the fact that he rolled his eyes at the man. “She was halfway to Shinou’s temple when His Majesty and I finally found her.” Taking up his pen again, he chose to ignore the advisor. Perhaps, if he kept up his act long enough, Günter would get the idea, and leave him be?
Günter’s slender hands slammed down on his desk. So much for that theory. Dropping his writing instrument, Gwendel levered himself up out of his seat, leaning heavily on his hands, and getting very close to Günter’s face. “Von Kleist,” he growled, “I am a general, not a babysitter. Gretta is the responsibility of her father, his fiancé, and the maids.” His blue eyes glared hotly into cool lavender. “If you would like to take over my duties for a time, perhaps I might be able to fit that into my schedule.”
Günter’s mouth fell open. “I cannot believe you are so heartless, Gwendel.”
“Heartless?” He asked, his brow furrowing. “I am no more heartless than you. But today, I have no patience. It was my fear, which is apparently justified, that if I were to be bothered that I would become rather…cross with the intruder. Would you prefer me to show Gretta that side of my personality?” Those pale violet eyes widened before Günter shook his head in the negative. “I did not think so. Therefore, I asked her to find me a green butterfly.”
At that, Günter’s eyebrows rose. He knew as well as Gwendel, or anyone else in Blood Pledge Castle, that if you gave the girl a task, she would see it through. She was much like her adopted father in that respect. That was why he had given her such a difficult task. The only green butterflies within a fifty-kilometer radius were in the next town to the west. And it was highly unlikely that Gretta would go that far. He sighed. “Are you quite finished, Günter?”
“Yes, Gwendel. However, in the future, please tell me or His Majesty before sending her off like that.” Günter straightened, and gave a short bow. “Good evening, Gwendel.” His long hair swayed as he made for the door, and as always, it was the last part of him to leave the room. A sudden itch on his palms brought his attention back to the present, from where it had been meditating on how pretty Günter’s hair was, and how he was only a tiny bit envious of how it shone in the afternoon sun. That was rather annoying, actually.
In reality, there were far too many things that were annoying him of late. Whether it be Günter, Dorcas’s idiocy, Anissina’s machines, or his paperwork, Gwendel’s entire body seemed to ache by the end of the day, simply from the amount of tension pouring into him. For probably the hundredth time, he let out a groan. Bending his head to one side, then the other, he decided that the soreness in his neck was probably the worst from bending over all of these blasted papers.
He shoved himself away from the desk, his exasperation too great to continue any form of work. Dinner would be two hours after sunset, and he had best get himself relaxed enough to avoid any kind of confrontation. Conrad was not in the castle at present, and while he was usually the peacekeeper, Gwendel was drafted to take his place in his absence. This was not a position that he relished. Wolfram was constantly nagging at His Majesty, and if he heard Yuuri yell, “Don’t call me a wimp!” one more time, he was going to take drastic action.
He walked out of his study, closing the door firmly behind him, and turning right to go to his personal quarters. If he was going to have to play interference between them, handle Günter’s hen pecking, and his mother’s constant questions about why he didn’t have a wife yet…a pain suddenly developed in his shoulder, and Gwnedel winced. Perhaps a long soak in his private bath would not go amiss? He was a bit more tense than usual, of late. Nodding to himself, he thought that might be exactly what he needed.
Yuuri breathed in deeply. The early evening air was very crisp, and he inhaled the scent of flowers, grass, and dirt. The gardens had been his favorite place for some time, now. There was one near the front of the castle that he frequented more than any of the others, filled with beautiful blue flowers, which he now knew were named for Conrad. Smiling to himself, he looked at these flowers. They were a beautiful blue. There were few things that were that precise shade of blue, and he began to list them. The first thing that came to mind was Wolfram’s uniform. Yes, that was certainly about the right color.
Next, he thought of how the sky had been earlier that day. It was actually really beautiful. And finally, he remembered…Gwendel’s eyes were blue. Sometimes, he forgot that. The man’s hair covered his eyes much of the time, and it was hard to know what he was thinking. Not that Yuuri was very good at reading him when he could see them. It was just very difficult to understand Gwendel at times.
He was probably the most physically tough man Yuuri knew, and his mental fortitude was amazing, as well. That was evident in that Gwendel had not yet succumbed to madness after so many years of dealing with and indulging Anissina’s more inventive nature. Then, there was the knitting. Really, Gwendel knitted, crocheted, and dabbled in sewing. Yuuri smiled slightly, remembering the hats he and Wolfram had gotten from him. After a moment of remembering how ridiculous the blonde man had looked, he began to chuckle to himself. He didn’t get to laugh at Wolfram very often, since his fiancé was always so proper and dignified, so this was a real treat.
The sound of horse’s hooves rang out suddenly, and in through the main gates flew a gray horse, with Dorcas riding it into the ground. Yuuri’s eyes widened. What was the matter? Dorcas loved the horses, so he would never treat one like that unless it was something urgent. That being the case, Yuuri ran forward as the horse skidded to a stop. “What is it, Dorcas?”
“Your Majesty! I have an urgent message from Yozak and Commander Weller!” The man handed the letter to Yuuri, and was dismissed. Yuuri watched him go, all the while apologizing to the horse, who looked almost ready to keel over.
“Poor Dorcas…” The expression on that man’s face made it seem as if he were constantly put upon, and Yuuri couldn’t help but feel for him. Then, he suddenly remembered the letter. Quickly opening it, he scanned the contents, and his eyes widened painfully. “No…” He had to find Gwendel. Of all people, Gwendel would understand this problem, and know what to do.
Letting out a long breath, Gwendel leaned back. His private bath was (compared to the massive ones that were reserved for His Majesty) a small affair. It would not fit more than five people in it comfortably. It was perfect for when he wanted to be alone. No one was brave enough to bother him while he was soaking away the day’s troubles. So, he pulled the leather tie out of his hair and let the blue-black stuff fall down the side of the tub. Tilting his head back, he rested it on the edge of the bath, a contented smile pulling at his lips.
The knots in his muscles slowly began to loosen from the heat of the water, and Gwendel breathed in the steam. Yes, this had been what he needed all along. Hot water, steam, and no one rushing about to bothe—
“Gwendel!” The door flew open, His Majesty entering and looking quite distressed. Had he been in a less relaxed state, the bathing man would have jumped.
Instead, he only turned his head, lazily regarding his ruler. “Yes, Your Majesty?”
It took Yuuri a moment to realize that he had barged in on Gwendel’s bath. And then it was another few seconds before he realized that the general was actually relaxed. He was lounging. His hair was hanging over the side of the marble tub, long bangs pushed away from a strong, tanned face. The light coming in through the windows cast thick shadows over the wet planes of muscle that made up his chest, and caught the very edge of one of Gwendel’s blue eyes, making it look like it glowed. Overall, it was a sight that would put anyone in awe. But at the moment, it was the tiny smile that Gwendel had that threw him off balance.
“I…um…there’s been…” a deep flush crossed his face, and he had to look away from Gwendel’s face. He instead fixed his eyes onto a spot on the far wall. Clearing his throat, he said, “There’s been some t-trouble with Great Shimaron again.” Water swished, drawing his attention back to the man in the bath. Gwendel had now sat up, his hair falling into the water and clinging wetly to his chest and shoulders.
His eyes were keen, piercing. “What is the situation?” Yuuri stammered, unable to get any words out. After a long moment, Gwendel sighed. “Please, sit,” he said, gesturing to a nearby chair. Once he was comfortable, Gwendel rested his arms on the edge of the tub, leaning his chin on his forearm. “Now, what is this trouble?”
It was difficult. Certainly, Gwndel was ill? How could this laid-back and completely relaxed person be the same man who was as stiff as an oak tree, even at dinner? His face heated up once again, but he did his best to speak calmly and plainly. “Belal has apparently been harassing some of the neighboring kingdoms, and has sent a small force and kidnapped Antoine’s friend, Leila.” One of Gwendel’s dark eyebrows rose. “Conrad sends an urgent request that reinforcements be dispatched to give chase.”
“And you? What do you say, Your Majesty?” Gwendel toyed with a sponge, water running down his arm.
“I…” Yuuri bit his lip. “I don’t think it is necessary to send troops.”
“Hm.” Gwendel hummed before he turned away for a moment to dunk himself in the steamy water. When he surfaced again, Yuuri found that he couldn’t really keep himself from looking at how the fading light ran over the darkened hair sticking to the general’s shoulders. He swallowed hard, trying to get some moisture back into his mouth. “Well, Your Majesty,” the man said quietly, “it is good that you came to speak to me.”
“How’s that?”
Gwendel’s head turned, and he looked at Yuuri from the corner of his eye. “If you had asked Günter, he would be panicking right now, wouldn’t he?”
Yuuri smiled. He had a point. “Yes, he would be.”
“And Wolfram would be grabbing his things to go over there himself.” Gwendel gathered his hair over one shoulder, squeezing water out of it. Yuuri nodded dumbly, trying not to stare. Gwendels’ voice continued, but he didn’t really hear it. The low, rumbling tone was lulling, and the pinkish light of sunset made wet skin glow, causing him to get the impression that he was talking to a very stern angel.
This could be a potentially serious situation. Belal must think they were getting sloppy. It was good, indeed that Yuuri had come to him first. The others would overreact, and certainly rush headlong into a trap. So, he would have to keep things together by sheer force of will, as he had many times before. He told His Majesty that it would be best to discuss these things when they met for dinner. The boy did not respond. Turning his head a bit more, he saw that Yuuri’s face had darkened slightly in a blush, and a kind of far away look had settled in his eyes.
It took a lot for him not to smile. There were some things that were far too adorable, and he had a weakness for cute things. He was fairly certain that his ruler did not hear a word he was saying, what with the way he was staring. “Your Majesty?” Yuuri did not make any indication that he heard. Now, things were getting a little awkward. He cleared his throat sharply. “Your Majesty,” he said a bit more forcefully, and dark eyes blinked rapidly for a moment before fixing on him in a more focused gaze, “I will be to dinner shortly. If you please?”
“Y…Yes…pardon my intrusion…” Yuuri stammered, his face consumed in bright red. In an instant, Gwendel was alone once more. He smiled to himself. If nothing else, His Majesty was entertaining.
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