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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
- 16
- 17
- 18
Yuuri winced at the tightness of his wrappings, pouting ever so slightly at Murata's mismatched grin under serious eyes. He was almost glad the sage could still find amusement in even their dark situation. He'd been quiet and contemplative for far too long which in Yuuri's experience meant things were worse than they seemed. A bit of schadenfreude seemed to at least surface him long enough from thought to become human again, not just a being of memory. Sitting alone in a tent, the two finally seemed to have a brief reprieve while the others mobilized and set their plan into its early stages.
"Mama is not going to be very pleased with us when we finally do go home."
The king groaned, rolling his shoulder to test the pain and finding it just as it was the last time he moved it. "We'll tell her I fell off a horse and hit a rock."
"I think she'd enjoy the truth," Murata put a hand over his heart, beckoning an imaginary audience with the other. "Shibuya Yuuri braving strange, frozen lands to find his lost almost-love, shot by one of the very refugees he was hoping to help in his quest to take back a kingdom from the evil Big Cimarron."
Okay, so it was exactly the sort of thing his mother would love to hear--minus the part where Yuuri ended up bleeding, sore, and lucky by the small margin of the shooter's poor craftsmanship of his arrow to come away not seriously wounded. As much as he wished things were different, it was hard for Yuuri to hold the man's actions against him; he hadn't asked for his country to become a target because of an alliance. People like him where why Wolfram had a job to do. Just because a king wanted to drop prejudices didn't mean his people did. It made Yuuri worry slightly about his own people, if without him they would revert back into hating humans just as much as they were hated by them. Then again, when he had left them and it had been Wolfram chosen to succeed him, though the choice may have been surprising, Yuuri was sure he would have lead the kingdom much as he had done, different methods perhaps but with the same ideals as motivation. There would be another strong presence in Trebic to help restore and affirm their alliance. It was just the second inning, not a whole 'nother ballgame.
The shooter had been lucky Gunter had not cut him to pieces. Though he and Conrad both had murder in their eyes, Yuuri was glad to see mercy shown in their troubled times. It was far more effective in the long run than killing off every would-be assassin. He laid back on his bedroll, keeping still as instructed and hoping to heal soon. There was a battle ahead and he was not going to miss it. "You know, it's almost like you're starting to believe me when I say he's alive."
"I believe Shinou is up to something. I'm not sure what but he's spent enough time in possession of Lord Prince Beilefeld's mind I can't rule out the slight though unlikely possibility." He shrugged, mouth pursed as if to say 'who knows?'. He poked at Yuuri's bandages, earning another frown and a slap to his hand. "I think it's personally best to be prepared for the worst, however. Treating the siege of the castle as a rescue mission divides our strengths a little too much but I have no qualms about acting in the best interests of any possibility when the alternative is a lose-lose outcome."
"Well... I guess that's good." Yuuri watched the white puff of his breath rise over his face. Even if it was only him and Conrad who still had any hope left, at least the others weren't trying to stop them.
"You know you're not in love with Lord Prince Bielefeld Havard, right?"
It was an odd turn for their conversation and not on he had expected. Yuuri blinked and turned his face to look at his friend. "What do you mean I'm not in love with him? You even said in the courtyard-"
"I said you were lovesick," Murata corrected. "That's different. You can love a lot of things and people but being in love is not the same. Trust me."
The king scowled, sitting up on his elbows despite the pain. For all his wisdom, Murata could be a real idiot. "I think I know what I feel."
"So do I."
"Oh, really? What is it then?"
"Guilt."
Yuuri opened his mouth to combat him but found nothing there for fuel. He closed his mouth, tongue pressed against the backs of his teeth.
Murata smiled, "No one is blaming you, Shibuya. You didn't sign the treaty, you didn't force him to marry Prince Havard, and you didn't send Big Cimarron here to kill them. Everything has been by choice or circumstance which you are just as powerless against as the rest of us."
There was no easy way to explain how he felt differently. It was a little infuriating that Murata already knew he did. Like the stories of butterflies and typhoons, the sage had no means of truly absolving him of any responsibility. Yuuri'd done too much wrong, distanced himself too far from what was really important. He closed his eyes, jaw still set tight. "If I had been here, I could have handled things differently."
Murata shook his head. "There have been many times before when you were not here and nothing happened at all. Your absence or presence does not dictate events."
"If I had married Wolfram-"
"You ran from him. You didn't want to marry him."
"I didn't know what I wanted!"
"You still don't." Murata's wise pout seemed meant for himself more than Yuuri. He was the bringer of harsh truths and the assignment was familiar but one of his least favorite. "One kiss does not change the entire course of past events. So you realize you're not all that adverse to men after all. That makes Wolfram a possibility, not your eventuality. It takes time, Shibuya. What happened to going home and coming to terms with even that much?"
"You know exactly what happened." Yuuri laid back down and closed his eyes. Maybe Murata would take the hint and drop the subject.
Not likely. "I do. You got scared. And the part of you that wants to protect everyone and make things right is willing to jump right in to try and be the band-aid that covers up everything wrong until it's right." Murata poked him in the injured shoulder again, guaranteeing him an audience as Yuuri flinched. "Don't let a guilty conscience exaggerate what's real. I don't think it was a coincidence that you became engaged to Wolfram any more than it was for all three brothers to be keys. As far as your personal life, if he's dead, then his part in the plan was probably to get you to broaden your horizons and drop your own prejudices. If he's alive, I'm quite sure the two of you will live happily ever after. Eventually. When you've gotten over the fear and guilt and remember just how crazy he makes you sometimes and whether you can actually deal with that while acting like a grown up and not a child."
Yuuri was sure Murata knew just how infuriating he could be. It was always worse when he was right. Of course he felt guilty, he'd never pretended he didn't feel in some ways responsible for everything that had happened with Trebic. The argument at Caloria's ball, the desire felt in the kiss Wolfram had returned, seeing Wolfram's mature, graceful, somber demeanor so distanced from the shouting, jealous rage that was so familiar had all filled Yuuri with his own desires to give Wolfram everything he wanted to make things right again, including himself. Was it really so wrong? Would he flinch from his touch under such motivations or resent him for his advances? Would he hide from him as he had in the past, would he take refuge from his intensity on Earth, repeating his same mistakes? Anything but that. He'd heard the hurt in Wolfram's voice in the garden, chastising him for his own mistakes in a false engagement, the happiness he'd denied him in his flippant treatment to something that had become Wolfram's bedrock. Why couldn't what Wolfram wanted be right for the both of them? It made things much simpler.
Yuuri put his good arm over his eyes, shading them from nothing but his companion's stare. "Murata, I think you've read a few too many of my mother's books."
"Worse. I have memories of living life as woman. I can relate to just about anything after four thousand years." His voice was cheerful again for a moment, then dipped down into its sage register. "I'm just trying to say: don't let your guilt decide who you love. Misplaced guilt eventually fades but the choices you make under its influences don't disappear as easily."
Yuuri groaned, tired and sore and miserable in his own skin. "You don't make any sense! 'We're meant to be', 'don't rush into anything', 'we'll live happily ever after together', 'you don't want to regret it'. Just what am I supposed to take away from that?" he asked the cryptic young man.
Murata sighed, his glasses clinking as he removed them to wipe away the fog. "That you and Wolfram might be right for each other but it can still go horribly wrong if you aren't ready. And you're not. You weren't ready to be a father when you adopted Greta and it's because of everyone's help that that hasn't been a disaster of good intent. No one is going to step in to be the surrogate boyfriend or husband to Wolfram when you leave for Earth and stay gone for weeks on end to play baseball and pass High school or even University. Wait until you're ready to settle before you make any more commitments."
"I don't want to make him wait for me."
"If his love is real, he will."
"And when the next Alfgeir Havard comes around?"
Murata shook his head. "After all this, I don't think you need to worry about that."
Yuuri dropped his arm from his eyes, staring up at the tent's pitched roof, numb and unsure of all but two things: 1) he was an idiot, and 2) Wolfram was still alive. With plans already in motion to secure the latter, it was his own stupidity he'd have to tackle alone. He was sure he would probably have to thank Murata at some point but it wasn't now. "I'll... I'll think about it. What you said. About it being guilt."
"Love is a wonderful thing, Shibuya, and all good things are worth their wait."
Yuuri grimaced, turning over on his good side, facing away from him. "You really are an old man."
"And an old woman."
----
Conrad scraped the stone over his sword's blade, still unsatisfied by its sharpened edge which could already split a hair. It was something he could do, though. Something productive. He kept his eyes always on his king's tent as the stone road over the iron, the repeat of past mistakes unforgivable.
Yozak, loudly stretching with the creak of tired bones and well worked muscles, plopped down beside on on a log near the fire, hands outstretched to the friendly flame. "Don't worry about it. The kid's fine."
Conrad said nothing, jaw set as the stone scrapped down again.
"Ah, I know this silence. It's been a while since I got the Captain's cold shoulder of internal strife."
"Yozak--"
"No, I get it. You'd rather stew in your own pot of distress. That's fine." He kept his eyes to the flames, voice cheerful though berating. "We've got the troops here ready. I think most of these men have used more pick axes than swords but whatever skills they've got, they're ready to use them. Looks like we're right on schedule for tomorrow. Dove from Gwendal says they should be here by nightfall. If you really think he's still in there, though, I can go in tonight and search the place. No reason to make you do it tomorrow when it looks like the kid's going to be a handful."
Conrad sighed, shaking his head. He rested his sword against his lap. "It should be me."
"It can't always be you. You either guard Yuuri or you go in tomorrow and try to find your brother. With his royal highness wounded, it doesn't look like you get to do both this time."
Yet another instance when fealty to his king and country had to trump his fealty to his family. Conrad clenched his hand around the stone he held. While there was nothing in his life he would change, the circumstances in these matters continually put his heart on the line.
Yozak sighed, one hand on Conrad's shoulder, squeezing firmly in acknowledgement. "I'll be there by dawn. I'm sure after the siege they could use some staff. No one's going to turn down a pretty little maid like me. If he's there, I'll find him."
"Yozak..." Conrad clasped his hand over his friend's. At the very least he had the utmost faith in him. "Thank you."
"All part of the job." He took his hand back, punching him in the arm instead. "Don't you worry about a thing. I've got it covered. You just protect his majesty and we'll see all of this through."
Conrad turned a weary smile to his friend, relieved but not happy. Even if Yozak's methods were safer and more assured, it should have been Conrad's arms which ushered his brother to freedom or carried him out to safety. Or bore his remains to a place of safekeeping until they could be returned home for proper rites. Such should be his burden as the one who had seen him to this life from the start.
Yozak frowned, throwing his arm over his shoulders to pull Conrad by his neck, forcing him closer. "Don't give me that look. You're a stronger man than that. What's done is done and we do what we must do. There is no cargo more precious to me than what is precious to you so you had better believe that I'm going to be tearing that place apart till I find him. You delegated the task, you didn't abandon your duty. Don't go soft on me, Captain. We get enough of that from the king."
The swordsman chuckled just slightly, resting his head on his friend's shoulder. "What would I do without you here?"
"Something stupid." Yozak kissed his head and let him go, arm around his back as Conrad took his time to sit back straight. "So, should I go with the lilac dress and oval apron or the turquoise and square?"
"Turquoise. I've never really liked you in lilac."
Yozak elbowed him in the ribs. "I look great in every color."
Conrad chuckled, a little more life in the sound. They sat by the fire while the stars held out above them in the sky. Eventually it was time for Gunter to take over watch and upon his relief, Yozak said goodbye and grabbed his heavy sack, starting off through the woods. Though tired from the long day, Conrad did not take his eyes off his back until he had completely disappeared into the darkness.
- 16
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- 18
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A Marriage of State