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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
- 15
- 16
- 17
Wolfram worried he was losing his mind. Awareness came in chunks of pain with slices of dialogue and imagery that slipped away with fleeting clarity. He was in his own room on his bed, alone, footsteps outside and sunlight in the window, eyes locked on the strange ring around his finger. He was sitting in a throne, propped up by its high back, gown of scarlet and gold too tight around his bruised ribs. He was laying on the floor in a puddle of his own vomit, the stones cool on his face. Darkness outside an unknown room, still and quiet, awoken by his own struggle to escape the houseki's power. Those were the moments when we felt in agony, life in the present existing as one long scream and struggle. It was when it didn't hurt anymore and his mind had wandered off to places where it had not before trekked that he worried. If his mind became lost in the pleasant reprieve, there would be no more return.
For now there was sand, scorching hot under his feet with a sun boiling away in the sky. Even in the shade the brightness of the day was unbearable. Wolfram sat on his towel beside Conrad several feet above the water's edge, swords planted nearby just in case but no real fear in the air. The two watched as their king and princess splashed and played in the sea, bouncing on rubber floats and circling each other like sharks. They were loud, giggles echoing off the rock cliffs around them. Yuuri seemed as much a child as Greta was, the two of them mirroring the other in their outbursts. Wolfram could not recall the last time he'd considered something as mundane and practical as swimming to be fun.
Conrad flexed his back, arms up over his head as old bones popped. He looked out on the water with an expression of pure joy, content on the sidelines where observation allowed for secret reminders of Yuuri's happy nature. It was only as he was his brother that Wolfram's jealous quills stayed down and out of sight. Of the many things Conrad was to him, a rival in love was not among them. Even if he were cute rather than handsome or feminine rather than masculine, Conrad loved and cared for his brother's happiness, even through all the times when Wolfram fought to despise him. Wolfram wondered if behind his back those same peaceful eyes had looked at him in that way, reveling in the happiness before them. As though feeling his thoughts on his bare skin, Conrad turned a smile to him, eyes closed to the sun.
"You should join them," he said.
Wolfram shrugged, pulling his knees to his chest with arms resting outwards. "Swimming is the poor man's means of travel and part of survival training. It's not fun. How are we even supposed to know he's drowning if he makes that kind of scene all the time?"
Conrad chuckled. His skin was already darker from his time in the sun, paler skin reflecting under the creep of swim apparel. Wolfram had opted for the umbrella having suffered sunburn far too many times to care to subject himself to recreational lounging half naked in the sun. The darker complexion suited his brother. He'd seen him several times in childhood returning home from human lands baked bronze and glorious. At the time, it had a barbarous color or inferior blood. Looking at him now, Wolfram envied the way even the sun seemed to love him. Conrad was blessed to be loved and respected by everything and for all his years of trying, Wolfram was not immune.
"Painting isn't practical either but you enjoy that. You might like swimming too."
"That's different. Painting has an end goal and a measurable accomplishment at the end. Yuuri's idea of fun is getting undressed in a public place, rolling around in the water, and then sitting around on the sand dripping wet." Wolfram had to admit that he didn't mind half of that on the spectator side. It was the other people sneaking glances at his fiance's maturing form that bothered him.
Greta came up closer to the shallows, the ruffle of her swimsuit pasted to the sides of her hips. "Wolfram! We're going to play a game! Get in, get in!"
Yuuri smiled, sunk down in the waves up to his chest. He waved over, calling him. "It's more fun with more people! I'll be 'it' the first round!"
"You'll be what?" Wolfram crossed his arms, pouting slightly at his pride's deliberate sabotage of such an invitation.
Conrad chuckled, leaning back on his elbows. "I can watch you all from here. It might be cooler in the water."
Wolfram groaned slightly but stood, dusting sand off his legs. "That's not the point," he grumbled. He walked down to where the sand turned from gold to brown under the lap of lazy tides. Greta raced out and grabbed his hand, pulling him to delve in deeper.
"Come on, come on! Greta and Wolfram have to try not to get tagged!" she instructed, anxiously ushering him in deeper to where Yuuri waited, goofy grin on his face as at last they managed to coax the stubborn prince into their domain. At least in the water, Wolfram's state of undress was less noticeable.
"Alright, Greta, did you explain the rules?" Yuuri asked, wading over to meet them in the shallower waters.
Her hands raised high. "Yuuri says Marco and Greta and Wolfram say Polo and then Yuuri has to try and tag us!"
"I say what?" Wolfram eyed the Asian man. "What kind of game is this?"
Yuuri rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly "Ah, I played it in America when I was little. It's best when there's a lot of people but I think three will be okay. I have to keep my eyes closed so you have to answer me back when I call so I can find you. Oh, but you don't want to be caught because if you are-"
"-then you're 'it!" Greta finished, bouncing in excitement.
Wolfram looked at them both as though they were crazy.
They remained in the shallows for Greta's ease, Yuuri dipping low with his eyes closed tight, arms out like a blind man. Wolfram took Greta's lead, pulling back away from their king while Yuuri spun in place, whirlpool maker. He stopped with his back to Wolfram, patting the tops of the water with his open palms. "Marco!" he called out.
"POLO!"
"P-..polo?" It was nearly impossible to say something so absurd out loud. Wolfram felt his face grown warm, unaided by the sun's hot rays.
Yuuri darted towards Greta, her little feet carrying her out of his reach just in time. "Marco!"
"POLO!"
It was utterly ridiculous. Was this how all Earth mazoku behaved? Was this the sort of thing their Maou expected them to learn?
"Wolfram! You have to say it!"
"Ah, um... Pol-GAH!" Yuuri's flying tackle caught him completely off guard, balance lost as they both fell backwards under the water. Yuuri's arms were around his chest, Wolfram's arms caught pinned to his sides, wash of black hair in his face, bubbles everywhere. It was over too fast but lasted longer than it seemed to need. It was wonderful. Sputtering he rose back from the water, his own hair plastered in front of his eyes while through their strands he saw Yuuri emerge as well, heard his victorious cry.
"Got you!" His smile was wide and face serious as from a fight. "That means you're it!"
"It? That's not fair! I wasn't ready!"
"Wolfram's it! Wolfram's it!" Greta splashed and kept her distance. "Now you have to close your eyes and spin around!"
Traitor child. He scowled, pushing back his bangs. "Fine. But I'm going to get you!"
Greta giggled and swam to Yuuri's side, picking favorites. Yuuri gave her head a pet then nodded to Wolfram, affirming her instructions. The mazoku took a deep breath and closed his eyes, outraged at his own acceptance of such a ridiculous position. It. He turned slowly, arms out to anchor as he listened to them swim around him. Utterly pointless. With his eyes closed he felt even more aware of how foolish he looked, no longer able to spy the mocking stares from the shadows that might be watching. Of course Conrad got to stay on the beach, looking cool and mature. It always seemed only to be Wolfram who got caught in the more childish antics. He wasn't 40 anymore. He wanted to be taken seriously.
"...Marco...?"
"POLO!" came twin replies.
Gwendal would never have agreed to something like this. Wolfram reached out with his hand, sure he'd heard Greta's voice, but slapped his palm against the water instead, splashes carrying her further away. He'd probably looked slow and stupid.
"Marco."
"POLO!"
He reached out again, again found nothing. His ears were burning with humiliation. Another call, another reply, another empty swipe accompanied by laughter. He was certain he even heard Conrad laughing at him. How dare he.
"Marco!" He shouted, ready to peek open his eyes and cheat if he had to.
Yuuri's voice breathed against the back of his neck, a whisper of mixed intent. "Polo."
Wolfram spun, reaching out for him but finding nothing, not even water. He listened for the splash of retreating kicks and heard nothing. He opened his eyes and saw the canopy of his bed in scarlet. He felt the lump of houseki in his stomach and curled in on himself, pleasant memories fading around ceaseless agony. The beach was gone, Yuuri was gone, Greta and Conrad and the peaceful shores of Shin Makoku all gone along with the end of the memory where many more chances to be a tumble of limbs continued on for hours. Flirting, Conrad called it. Shameful, he had rebuked. Wonderful, he recalled.
He forced himself to sit, drenched in sweat from the effort as he hauled his spine into place one vertebrate at a time. The glass of water on the bedside table seemed miles away but with effort he wrapped his fingers around it and brought it to his lips. The water had spoiled but still felt good as it trickled down his throat and chin. He needed to eat, needed to keep food down, needed not to waste away slowly by the power of a gemstone too stubborn to move.
Eyeing the door he wondered if he could make it there on his own, if they had even bothered to lock it, how far he could get before someone noticed. Not far, he knew, but maybe far enough. Using the bedside table he carefully hauled himself to standing, taking his time. The first steps were the hardest, shuffling over the rug on bare feet scabbed over from being dragged. He kept his hands on anything that was available: a chair, the lamp, an armoir, an open chest. He put his body into the door, back to the wood of the left while he pushed against the right, trying to keep his balance working on a door that opened in. It creaked slightly, giving his fingers purchase to push harder. The guard's assistance was sudden, pushing so hard it unbalanced Wolfram and sent him to the floor with the crack of his skull against the stone.
Dizzy, he could still hear the chuckle of the brutish human soldier as he grabbed him by the arm and dragged him away from the door, chastising him like a child. "Guess you either get brains of beauty, huh, Stupid?"
Wolfram looked out the door as he was pulled away from it. Just the one guard. He closed his eyes, hiding a smile. They were underestimating him.
- 15
- 16
- 17
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A Marriage of State