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A Marriage of State	By : Niko Category: +G to L > Kyou Kara Maou Views: 2727 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Kyou Kara Maou or any rights to its story, characters or plot. I make no money from this.

Chapter List
- 10
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Chapter Ten
The marina was full of fishing boats and trawlers, private luxury liners and at least two sizable defensive ships with canons pulled away from the port side windows out of respect to the once ravaged lands of Caloria. It smelled, tasted and sounded like every other dock Yuuri had walked across, wooden planks creaking under foot on rusted nails under the weight of merchants and soldiers. He kept close to Gwendal, walking in his shadow as they made their way to the smaller of the Shin Makoku ships docked there, nearly half the size of the one sent to guard the Trebic flagship and its royal passengers. Yuuri thought it odd, staring at the guardian vessel and her two flags hanging limply atop the center mast. Several men on deck saw him and waved, most others seeming far too busy in preparations to look anywhere but where they were going. It was a war ship. Even if it was only for protection, seeing it made Yuuri worry. Staring up at her tiers of canon laden decks he could make out the signature blue of Wolfram’s uniform worn by several men--members of Wolfram’s regiment. Why a cavalry had been called to sea, Yuuri could not imagine. Perhaps they hadn’t wanted to say goodbye either. He admired their loyalty as much as he envied their freedom to follow. He recognized the red uniforms as well, much simpler to the dress attire Alfgeir and Wolfram had worn but unmistakably related. Plain clothes sailors and suited soldiers made up several other classes of crew aboard the out of place vessel. It was true to the flags it bore: a menagerie of mazoku and humans working together towards a common goal.
Gwendal came to a stop, Yuuri’s face finding his back as he walked into him from behind. He took a few steps back, leaning around his retainer at the crates being loaded in their path from a merchant ship. An older man with white hair and a muscled build that was all too familiar sat on one such crate with a long piece of straw pinched between his teeth. He winked a bright blue eye at Yuuri as he stood and hefted a large sack over his shoulder, walking towards the war ship’s ramp where other men stood waiting with supplies still left to load. He wasn’t what Gwendal had stopped for, however. As the milling waves of sailors shifted along the dock, Yuuri caught sight of the flash of red and gold and watched as people parted slowly to let him view the royal couple.
Alfgeir and Wolfram stood on the dock before their own ship, small in comparison to their leading vessel but not unlike Yuuri’s own. Alfgeir’s hand was again around Wolfram’s shoulders, the blonde’s arms crossed over his chest in characteristic unease. A small knitted animal hung from a chain on his belt loop.
“He’ll take good care of him.”
Yuuri looked up at Gwendal. The older man stood with jaw set and eyes cold, lips caught in a line between scowl and frown. It was more in the way he held his shoulders that Yuuri could tell he was relieved. At least one of them had gotten what he wanted in their voyage.
Yuuri looked back at Wolfram, a name finally given to the feeling of heartache. “Is that really enough? Just to be taken care of?”
“In these matters, yes.” Gwendal began walking again, their ship not far.
Yuuri followed though he continued to shoot long glances over towards the red couple and their ship. On board he climbed up the quarter deck to the poop, leaning over the rails to keep his gaze trained on his friend. He was almost fearful Wolfram would see him watching, not sure how he could look him in the eyes knowing the thoughts that had been in his head. Wolfram wasn’t just a friend anymore, not since their kiss. He wondered if Wolfram felt that way too now or had felt that way all along. There hadn’t been time to speak since they parted in the garden and for his part Yuuri had not sought him out that morning. It was almost better to have just stayed friends forever knowing in the end it had to be like this. Wolfram’s eyes never met Yuuri’s, the prince keeping his gaze low as he boarded his own ship set to sail far away. Humans and mazoku both bowed as they came on board, their smiles visible even from several yards away. He could almost make out Alfgeir’s words, loud and strong on the wind, but could more easily tell just by the laughter and cheers of the men that it had been cheerful and good for morale. Gwendal joined Yuuri at the aft, quiet in his vigil as they both watched the integrated vessel prepare for departure.
Yuuri hung his head, looking below at the foam slapping against the ship. “I thought I knew what it was like to be a king, Gwendal. When I had to worry about people coming home alive, I thought ‘This is hard. These are the tough decisions’ but I never thought…” He shook his head, letting out a long breath. “This whole thing has more to do with making people see that the world is changing than it does an actual alliance. And I can’t make myself not see that it’s working. And that makes this the best decision I could never have made. I see the men on those ships and I see exactly what I’ve wanted us to work towards. Caloria accepts us and we’re on good terms but in the time we’ve known them there still has not been this degree of mingling. It’s the same with Sara and Small Cimarron. You found a way to spread my message with happiness and good intentions instead of war and conflict. It’s perfect. Everything about it on the public side is idealized and sends a powerful message. Wolfram was right: you are more fit than me to be the demon king.”
Gwendal stood quiet. Yuuri wondered if the stoic man would share his thoughts at all or simply reprimand him. He was surprised to feel Gwendal’s hand on his shoulder, a brief pat that he withdrew just as quickly.
“Our world is full of bitter, selfish people, Your Majesty, who have forgotten what it is like to wish for the wellbeing of others. I have learned from experience that sometimes it takes the sacrifice of something important to make people see that they are part of a much bigger world than they once believed. And still I would take it all back to see the good you could have done had I not attended to the situation myself.”
Yuuri’s hands tightened on the railing. He watched human sailors toss down lines of rope to mazokus, mazoku sailors helping heave heavy crates below deck with humans. He saw people working together, differences mostly forgotten. He turned his back to it, looking up at his tactician with mirthless determination. “What’s done is done. And maybe I need someone like you to make the tough decisions for me sometimes. So let’s promise to argue a lot in the future. We know how this all needs to end so please be there to help me get us there. No matter how much I hate this, don’t ever stop trying to save this world.”
Gwendal nodded slowly, shoulder’s relaxing just the slightest bit more.
The trip back to Shin Makoku had been uneventful, weather conditions remaining fair as they reached the snow dusted landscape of the mazoku capital. Yuuri wasted little time in giving his daughter a hug and kiss with news of Wolfram’s health and well wishes. It was good to hold her again and see the familiar faces of his kingdom. Conrad’s smile was just as reassuring as it had always been and he didn’t even mind Gunter’s excited praise as they walked the halls of Blood Pledge Castle. Work had piled up with neither him nor Gwendal there to see to it, though. Despite the gnawing need in his gut to return to Earth for a break from politics, Yuuri sat with the tactician in the war room to go over the more important, international concerns waiting for his reply.
“Sir Veleif is requesting more ships,” Gwendal summarized for his king’s ease from the long roll of parchment in his hands.
Yuuri looked at the maps sprawled out on the table like a game of Risk, several of their ship pieces already relocated to the Trebic waters. “How many more? There’s four there now counting the escort ship.”
“Three more.”
The king sighed, looking at the pieces left in their own waters. “We have one en route with supplies. We could have it stay for a bit I guess, couldn’t we?”
Gwendal eyed the map but nodded at length. “So long as Sir Veleif maintains his end of the bargain.”
“I’m sure he will. He seems like a nice guy. And if he doesn’t, we’ll be told by the sailors and he can forget about more ships until he can afford their keep.”
Gwendal wrote down the reply and sent it to the aviary to inform the Trebic council and the en route ship as well. “I’m afraid this will delay my brother’s response to your correspondence,” he said, breaking the seal on the next item to be discussed.
“That’s okay. I’d like to return to Earth when we’re done so I wouldn’t be here to respond for a while anyway.”
The older man put the next letter down, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “We can be done if you are in a hurry. I know it has been some times since you last returned.”
Yuuri shook his head. “It’s only been a couple days or so in their time.”
“It has been several weeks in ours.” He stacked the papers nicely on the desk in their designated pile. “Go home and see your family. There is nothing here that cannot wait for your return.”
“Are you sure?”
Gwendal nodded, rising from the chair himself and heading for the door. “When will you be back?”
Yuuri looked at the floor nervously. “I’m not sure. I-uh… need some time to work some stuff out. I don’t want to just abandon everything and everyone, though, so I was thinking maybe I’d come back real quick and see how things were, go over some stuff, then go back for a while.”
“Is something wrong?”
The king rubbed at the back of his neck, feeling himself turn slightly red. “No, it’s fine. Sometimes it’s hard enough being a teenager though without also having to worry about a kingdom. I have my own prejudices to work through.”
Gwendal looked at him for a moment but left it at that, holding open the war room door as the two retreated from stacks of necessity.
Murata waited in the courtyard, sitting on the fountain with his glasses catching the glare of the setting sun. Yuuri felt tired and worn out the instant he saw him, the end of many long days finally becoming reality. He dragged himself over, letting out a long sigh as he plopped down on the edge of the fountain with him. It was time to go home.
“You don’t look so good, Shibuya. You’re not getting a cold, are you?” Murata waggled a finger at him. “If you are, Mama will have to buy you thicker socks.”
“I’m not sick. I just feel… weird.”
“Nn. Well, it’s to be expected when you’re lovesick. Nothing ever feels right when you pine for lost love.”
Yuuri put his face in his hands, not sure sometimes what to think of Murata and his old man wisdom and insight. “I’m not even going to ask how you know.”
“Because I can recognize the signs, Shibuya.” Murata smiled at him slightly, brow pinched in pity. “People have waited longer for less. If you’re determined and it’s real, you will both find each other when his term abroad is over.”
“He’s not at University, Murata, he’s married and living in his husband’s castle hundreds of miles away.”
The Sage shrugged, standing to stretch before their whirlpool travel home. “Some things are meant to be.”
There was at least some solace in knowing his feelings for Wolfram made no difference to his closest Earth friend.
Yuuri stepped into the freezing waters of the fountain with Murata beside him, closing his eyes and stretching his powers out towards home. He felt the water swallow him up and let his mind rest, thinking of the tepid bathtub water and the smell of curry on the stove. There was homework to do, shows on the television he was hoping to see, movies coming out, friends…
The water was ice cold and much deeper than the tub. It tasted like salt on his tongue as his lips parted for breath, eyes open to the pitch black of an endless ocean. He scrambled for the surface, legs kicking hard as he spread his arms out, clawing for the waves above. So cold. He felt his head break the surface and gasped, only given enough time for one crucial breath before waves knocked him under again, rolling him over till up and down were as confused as he was. He struggled again to the surface, seeing it only in the reflection of flames that turned the night sky a flickering gold. He broke free with a cough and gasped, kicking as hard as he could though his legs felt numb and useless. He could see the waves come but could not fight them, anticipation only allowing him time to breath deep before being thrown and dragged along like flotsam. He could hear similar splashing close by, hopeful it was Murata, even more hopeful his friend was somewhere else, safe.
“Man overboard!”
Yuuri looked and saw the ship, one of many causing the pull from bellow and thrashing waves. He waved his arms before going under, so cold, so cold, so very, very cold. He kicked but felt the surface sink further away, raked the water with his hands but could not claw his way back to the air. He felt panic squeezing what was left of his last breath from him as he struggled, unwilling to die. But it was so cold, and the surface so far, his limbs so numb and his lungs so empty.
He didn’t fight the arms that wrapped around him nor even think to breathe at first when again the air smacked him hard in the face with frost on the breeze. He wasn’t sure he was alive anymore though he could feel water running from his mouth down his chin and see with his partially opened eyes the flames on the shore. The arms held him tight, pressing in hard around his ribs, and with a gasp he choked on another wave and inhaled the cold night air.
The man holding him dragged them both through the waves on a rope wrapped tight around his arm. “How did you end up here at a time like this, Your Majesty?”
“Y-Yozak!?” Yuuri coughed on his name, wanting to help but feeling too heavy and tired to move.
“Just a little bit longer, Your Majesty. You hang in there or I’ll never hear the end of it from Conrart. You wouldn’t do that to me, now, would you?”
Yuuri shook his head, teeth chattering. He spotted another man not far from them being pulled up by a rope, Murata limply leaning against him in his arms. It put his heart at ease though his mind still reeled.
It felt like forever had passed before they were on the ship’s deck. Like something out of a hentai film his clothes were stripped from him the instant the sailors could get their hands on him, more confusion added to every second of his arrival as towels and blankets were heaved onto him and his body forcibly carried into the captain’s cabin with Murata, Yozak and the unnamed sailor who had jumped in for the sage. There they huddled near the fireplace with mugs of hot drinks. Yuuri’s head still felt fuzzy as he held his cup between his hands. It didn’t feel as though he’d ever be warm again.
“You couldn’t have picked a worse time to come,” Yozak chided, draped in no less than five heavy wool blankets.
“I h-haddddddn’t p-p-planned o-on it.”
“I don’t want to hear any more discussion until you’re sufficiently warm. You’re liable to bite your tongues off.” Yuuri looked up at the captain, a stern looking older man who had seen many better years. He sat at his table with a bottle of liquor, wearing a red naval uniform and a grave expression.
Canon fire made Yuuri jump. He tried to rub feeling back into his arms under the layers of wool, looking around the room for some sign that explained what was going on and where he was. He felt weak and dizzy, unfocused and confused. Only part of his brain seemed to recognize the pieces set before him and raced impatiently for him to react, his heartbeat rising with the panic of more canon fire.
The door to the cabin opened quickly, a sailor dipping inside with the cold breeze. He closed the door with just as much haste, standing at attention, face strangely vacant. “Sir, we’re received news from shore.”
“And?”
The sailor looked at the crowd of frozen men but the captain waved him on. “You know who that is? That’s the demon king himself come to watch the carnage from the frontlines. Not a damn thing you can’t say in here that he’s not going to find out about eventually.”
The sailor nodded slowly, face a miserable pallor of dread. “Half the city is on fire, sir. Civilian death toll is estimated to be in the hundreds. Maybe thousands.” His breath hitched, tone rising in an effort to remain calm. “Sir… the castle has fallen and the Big Cimarron general has announced himself as appointed dictator of Trebic. We’re being ordered to cease fire and surrender or to turn tail and run.”
The captain threw the bottle liquor against the wall near fireplace, glass raining down in the sparkle of flames. “Did they take the king alive?”
“….No, sir…. He was beheaded.”
“And Prince Alfgeir?”
The sailor’s chin quivered before nerves set it still, anger burning through his gaze. “The entire royal family was massacred, sir.”
Yuuri’s eyes rolled back into his head as the chill brought him to unconsciousness.
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A Marriage of State