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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
- 14
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- 16
There was nothing quite like Conrad's smile to make everything seem brighter, especially over a thousand miles away from where it was supposed to be. Yuuri wasn't sure why it still amazed him when the soldier managed to rise to the occasion and be exactly where he was needed to be. It was the magic of the half-breed, a sort of mystical dependability. Yuuri had been glad to see him many times before but watching him emerge from the darkness of the forest around the refugee camp, cloaked in tandem with Gunter, gave the king a boost to his spirits he hadn't been prepared for. It started as a laugh as he ran to greet them but was soon much more weary, his body so very ready to be relieved of the heavy burden it carried, wanting to share the weight of it among the capable backs of his friends and retainers.
Gunter flew at Yuuri, arms open as he scooped him into an hysteric embrace, "Your Majesty!" he cried, checking him over like a creepy uncle, hands roaming and pressing in to his body for wounds under the thick, warm uniform he wore. Yuuri sighed and patted the swordsman on the back.
"I'm fine, Gunter. Really."
"Oh, Your Majesty, getting pulled from the transitive waves by the strength of your own passion for peace and justice is a truly inspiring feat. Must you always go where I cannot so easily follow? If anything happened to you-"
"Gunter, please," Yuuri felt himself growing red, sure there was a small crowd gathering behind him to investigate the new arrivals. "Murata and I are both fine, thanks to Yozak and the other sailors on the ship we came up by. How did you get here so fast? Are the others here too?"
Conrad shook his head, pulling back the hood of his cloak. "We took the express," he explained, hand falling to his lower back with a wince to further illustrate the lasting discomfort of the infamous banana-boat.
They came into the clearing where the refugees were huddled and ready for sleep, most of the morose faces not bothering with the new arrivals above mild curiosity. Conrad and Yozak went to erecting the tent they'd traveled with, a small but much improved structure from the ones Yuuri had spent his day building. It felt wrong to take such comforts for himself when he knew how many others were sleeping in worse conditions. Gunter insisted, however, and offered his own tent to a foster the children inside to keep his king from sacrificing his own. Yuuri was grateful but still unsure. Sitting on dry ground under a canvas canopy, it was only Conrad's companionship that kept him from retreating back to the fires with the Trebic citizens.
"I'm glad you're here," he admitted, head heavy and body sore.
Conrad wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, still smiling but brow pinched with regret. "I'm sorry it took us as long as it did. We left as soon as we received Yozak's message."
Yuuri shook his head. "You're here now. That's all that matters." It was more than he had hoped for. He pulled the blanket firmly around himself, eyes downcast. Alone it was somehow harder to meet Conrad's eyes even as his presence gave the king relief. He needed his mentor there for moral support. Murata and Yozak were some of his closest companions but they were secretive and seemed to think that Yuuri was naive and mistaken more often than not. Conrad believed in Yuuri unconditionally. Yuuri needed to believe he did, at any rate. Deep down he worried the next comforting words the swordsman would utter would be condolences, speeches on accepting harsh truths, unnecessary words on dealing with death. He wished he'd known under what understanding Conrad and Gunter had raced overseas. Yuuri sighed long and heavy, slumping over his own body like an old, wizened man. "What did Yozak tell you happened?"
"He said you and the Great Sage arrived in the middle of a battle and were heading inland to help the citizens who escaped from the burning city. That you needed my help."
"So.. you didn't hear about the royal family?"
Conrad's fingers flinched against his palms as they curled slowly into tighter fists. His expression remained soft but neutral, eyes the only part left to betray him as they filled with anger and sadness. "We heard."
Yuuri shook his head, laying his own hand over Conrad's nearest fist. Conrad needed to believe as he did. Needed to. "He's alive. I know he is. And we're going to rescue him," he stated, staring hard at the crease in the tent's floor, too raw to look at anything that could look back and see his growing doubts.
Conrad laid his other hand over his. "Yes," he replied.
That was all it took for a long awaited sob to burst from Yuuri's lips, hands covering his face in surprise and embarrassment. Tears filled his eyes and spilled down his face, body jerking with every attempt to contain the emotions bursting from his heart. So much had happened in so short a time, more than he was ready for and far more than he could stand. He hid his face, torn between trying to stop and just letting it go. Conrad wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, cheek to chest. There Yuuri clung, no longer caring how it looked or how much of a wimp it make him seem. He'd gladly be a wimp all his life if for one second the tears made the pain go away. Conrad stroked his head and back to soothe him, saying nothing as the king choked on his own emotions, a moist and snotty mess.
As quickly as it began it ended, tapering off into a whimper as Yuuri buried his face in shame into the muscled pecs of his retainer. Conrad gave his shoulder's a squeeze, not a thought in his head of ending the embrace. "He wouldn't want you to be unhappy," he whispered.
Yuuri chuckled mirthlessly, shaking his head. "Yes he would. He'd want me to carry on like my whole life was ending and make sure everyone knew how miserable with worry I was. He'd want a charity event and his own colored ribbon and pamphlets everywhere saying Shibuya Yuuri is scared to death that everyone else is right." The laugh turned in to another short sob, fingers clenching in the fabric of Conrad's shirt. "What he'd want is for me to have told him how I feel back in Caloria. To have been here in this world when he needed me to be. Everything he's wanted, I never did. I fucked up. I fucked up and if we've lost him I d-..."
Conrad's arms tightened around him, hand holding his head close and secure under his chin. "We can't believe in two contradictory things. He's alive, isn't he? So there's no need to cry for him yet."
Yuuri tried to swallow his growing doubt, bottom lip trembling with the effort to compose himself. The surety he had felt the first night, the soul calling to him, he'd known it was Wolfram with unwavering conviction but it hadn't happened again, not in the almost two days he'd spent in Trebic's borders. Like a dream the details slipped away the further time distanced him from the moment, replaced by images left from accounts he could not unhear. Slowly he pulled himself away from the comfort of Conrad's arms and wiped his face clean, sleeve rough on his skin but more that able for the task. "You're right. Sorry. It's been a long day. A long couple days." He smiled a self-deprecating smile. "A long several months. I don't know how you do it."
"With a great deal of effort, Your Majesty."
Yuuri sniffled, shaking his head. His whole being hurt too much to bother correcting him.
The night was long and cold even with the fires outside constantly burning, watching over them all in the darkness; guardian spirits of flame. The murmur of conspiracy and fear filled in the gaps where the hum of insects and wild animals were missing. In the morning there were the same dreary faces climbing out of shelters of ice and brush. A handful of men stripped newly dead bodies of their wares. The burns, they said, and the smoke fogging their lungs was too much. The crimes of Big Cimarron continued to mount.
Arfast, the young man with the patchy beard who had spoken at the campfire, guided the five Shin Makoku representatives to the other refuge camp after breakfast. They walked in silence, Murata, Yozak and Gunter of the contemplative sort while Conrad and Yuuri seemed lost in less constructive thoughts. It made a short trip longer, the only accompaniment to each step the crunch of snow and the caw of crows. The second camp was much larger but not much better off, several men dressed in military uniforms milling about with civilians while one held post outside a shabby tent made from a singed Trebician flag. Arfast nodded to the guard who peeked his head inside to call forth the tall figure of Sir Bersi Veleif, finery wrinkled and dingy from dirt and sweat. He smiled at Yuuri, clasping his shoulders as a friend.
"I never doubted for an instant you would come but I never thought it would be so soon. You are indeed a powerful mazoku." He praised, a look of relief passing over his dreary eyes.
Yuuri was glad once again to be in familiar company. "Are you in charge here, Bersi?"
"I am, of a sorts. Of what I hear, most of the court seems to have stayed within the city limits, trying to put their best efforts in there. I'm only here as a coward who fled at the last stand. A man of my position should have fought to the death but here I am, sleeping in the dirt as I should." He stroked his beard. "There's plenty of work to be done here, though. A few weeks and we'll have some more viable shelters; a month and we might even be able to call this a real settlement."
"Shin Makoku will be here with ships in a few days. Then we can drive Big Cimarron out and start rebuilding your real homes and businesses."
Bersi sighed, patting the young king on his shoulders. "When you say it, I want to believe. I fear it will not be so easy to get rid of them now that they are here, though. We must prepare for a long haul of hardships on the horizon. Then, if your miracle happens, it will be a happy surprise."
Gunter stepped forward, sword on display at his hip but his hands carefully distanced from its hilt. "Sir Veleif, I believe with careful planning it will not take a miracle as you suggest."
The Trebic noble raised a bushy, ginger brow at the swordsman. "Oh? And what is it exactly that you are planning?"
The wind whistled with an arrow on the wind that jerked along the breeze, crudely fashioned from scraps and hardly fit to fly. It struck Yuuri in the back before he even heard its song, a strange push and a sting that struck him dumb for a moment, senses confused. Conrad and Gunter mobilized at once, Gunter's sword pulled to deflect any additional shots while Conrad grabbed his king, shielding him more with his body than his own sword.
Stabbed in the back, in the shoulder, and in the gut. Yuuri's mind opened wide at the beckoning of an adrenalin fueled rush. He could feel the warmth of blood as it pooled and trickled down his flesh, the stab of its pile under his shoulder blade, his body uncertain as to what to call the pain, inventing sensation borrowed from a mind far away. No further shots hit but in his stomach and chest he could feel the pulse of ghost wounds, the masquerade of suffering. He smiled, giddy.
"Yuuri!"
- 14
- 15
- 16
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A Marriage of State