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Bloom	By : chayron Category: +G to L > Kyou Kara Maou Views: 9093 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Kyou Kara Maou! It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I'm not making any money from writing it.

Chapter List
- 1-Bloom
- 2-Part 2
- 3-Part 3
- 4-Part 4
- 5-Part 5
- 6-Part 6
- 7-Part 7
- 8-Part 8
- 9-Part 9
- 10-Part 10
- 11-Part 11
- 12-Part 12
- 13-Part 13
- 14-Part 14
- 15-Part 15
- 16-Part 16
- 17-Part 17
- 18-Part 18
- 19-Part 19
- 20-Part 20
- 21-Part 21
- 22-Part 22
- 23-Part 23
- 24-Part 24
- 25-Part 25
- 26-Part 26
- 27-Part 27
- 28-Part 28
- 29-Part 29
- 30-Part 30
- 31-Part 31
- 32-Part 32
- 33-Part 33
- 34-Part 34
- 35-Part 35
- 36-Part 36
- 37-Part 37
- 38-Part 38
- 39-Part 39
- 40-Part 40
- 41-Part 41
- 42-Part 42
- 43-Part 43
- 44-Part 44
- 45-Part 45
- 46-Part 46
- 47-Part 47
- 48-Part 48
- 49-Part 49
- 50-Part 50
- 51-Part 51
- 52-Part 52
- 53-Part 53
- 54-Part 54
- 55-Part 55
- 56-Part 56
- 57-Part 57
- 58-Part 58
- 59-Part 59
- 60-Part 60
- 61-Part 61
- 62-Part 62
- 63-Part 63
- 64-Part 64
- 65-Part 65
- 16
- 17
- 18
Disclaimer: I don’t own Kyou Kara Maou! – It belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I’m not making any money from writing it.
Warnings: yaoi (male x male), violence, swearing, angst, drama. Wolfram-centric, out of character, original character.
Summary: With Yuuri’s upcoming birthday, Wolfram makes his decision. Where will it lead him and what is to become of them? Should eventually be Yuuri x Wolfram.
A/N 1: Yuuri – 18 years old. Wolfram – 20. Eldara – 31. Halea – 20. Athara – 18.
A/N 2: Greta doesn’t exist.
A/N 3: European/American/Japanese standards all at once depending on the plot requirements.
A/N 4: A tendency to ignore the anime/manga and supplement the story with my own imagined facts.
A/N 5: Season III is not taken into consideration, except for the fact that Wolfram’s uncle exists.
A/N 6: The umlaut in Gunter’s name is a bother.
Bloom
by chayron (lttomb@yahoo.com), beta-read by Tia Integra
Part 17
“How do you feel?” Wolfram asked Yozak, who was lying on a bed in a small room that he was currently residing.
“Getting better,” Yozak answered. Wolfram looked doubtful, and he chuckled, “Don’t worry; I will be as good as new in a couple of days.”
The blond cast his eyes over Yozak’s pale face and dark circles under his eyes. It was clear that Yozak was acting tougher than he felt. It was going to take much longer than only a couple of days for him to recover. Wolfram felt bad about his “innocent” curiosity. It would have been much worse, though, if the duke had decided that he had deserved the outcome and just stood there watching him open the door. Even Wolfram’s men would have confirmed that nobody had pushed him into the vault – he had entered on his own volition. In fact, he had even been warned not to enter.
“What’s been happening?” Yozak asked.
The blond gave him a thoughtful look, debating with himself whether he should leave the room or keep Yozak in the course of things. The man seemed to be on the verge of falling asleep. However, Wolfram knew that Yozak held himself responsible for allowing him to break into the vault. The blond also knew that it would have been impossible for Yozak to have protested. Wolfram had been drunk and obsessed with the thought and nothing else would have quenched his curiosity. Sometimes, he could be an incarnation of stubbornness. Just like Yuuri.
“Neryan von Sedera, the Duke of Arklend, is here. Also Lennon Barista of Elkia.”
Yozak’s face grew worried. “I do know von Sedera, but you will have to remind me who Barista is.”
Wolfram shrugged uncertainly. “The Baron of Elkia is the subject of von Sedera. He has a young son named Verinas Barista. I don’t really know anything else.”
“I see. What does Barista want with von Ashira?”
Wolfram was a little puzzled by the way Yozak phrased the question but didn’t say anything as now his mind was busy coming up with lies. “It seems there was something he wanted to discuss with Eldara concerning his son,” he said finally.
Yozak stared up at the blond’s face then sighed. “Wolfram, you have always been a terrible liar. You fidget and blush every time you tell a lie. I’ve never seen anyone be so obvious about it.”
Wolfram frowned. “Well, I can’t help it!”
Yozak laughed softly at the blond’s defiant voice. “So, will you tell me what’s going on?”
Wolfram rolled his eyes, but there was no point in hiding anything because Yozak would sniff everything out, anyway. He got more comfortable in his chair and started talking.
“…So then he complained to von Sedera and now both of them are here,” Yozak finished Wolfram’s tale on his own.
Wolfram nodded in confirmation.
“Yeah, von Ashira is notorious for arranging various sorties. And were he not a baron’s son, von Ashira would have hanged him without further ado.”
Musing, Wolfram stayed silent then he shrugged. “That would have probably been for the best.”
“You’ve become cruel,” Yozak noticed.
Wolfram rolled his eyes. “I have not. There is no guarantee that he won’t do that again.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t be so certain about that; hostile encounters with von Ashira usually make people docile for many years to come.”
Wolfram thought about this. Indeed, for the first part of his stay in Raizgad he had been intimidated by the older male. Later they had somehow found common grounds and the pressure he had felt had more or less disappeared. Of course, he hadn’t been on the receiving end of Eldara’s anger either. He could imagine that it wouldn’t be pleasant at all.
“Well, Eldara seems to have fallen out of von Sedera’s favor,” he said.
Yozak gave him a confused look. “Who? Von Ashira? Nonsense. They are old friends. Von Sedera will bitch and moan for a few minutes just to show to Barista that he’s doing something about the situation, and then he and von Ashira will shake hands and return each to his business. Rumor has it that they share a bed as well.”
Dumbfounded, Wolfram stared at him. Yozak was giving him a curious look, trying to figure out why he looked so shaken up.
“But isn’t von Sedera married?” Wolfram managed finally.
Yozak rolled his eyes. “Wolfram, aren’t you a bit too naïve?”
Wolfram continued to stare at him. “That bloody bastard...” he said in a minute, his face turning red in anger.
Now Yozak became anxious. “What did he make you do?”
Wolfram’s face flushed such brilliant red that Yozak honestly became worried that there was a possibility that they made him dance on von Sedera’s lap.
“He made fun of me!”
Yozak lay silent, waiting, but no further explanation came. However, then it became clear to him. He groaned. “He talked you into covering for him, didn’t he?” Wolfram nodded, and he sighed. “Didn’t I tell you not to get entangled with von Ashira?” Wolfram shot Yozak an angry look, and it was obvious it was best to avoid “I told you so” for now. “Well, it’s not a big deal this time. Von Ashira simply wanted to test your loyalty. The two of them will laugh about it and then forget it.”
Wolfram was gritting his teeth. He, however, was not going to allow that asshole to forget it. He was going to make certain the bastard remembered it.
“Don’t do anything reckless,” Yozak warned Wolfram, reading his face. He regretted he wasn’t able to be at the blond’s side all time since Wolfram was prone to acting on the spur of the moment.
“Define ‘reckless’,” Wolfram growled at him.
“Just don’t be hotheaded.” In fact, Yozak knew that he should tell Wolfram not to confront von Ashira, but he also knew that it would as good as asking Wolfram to suddenly drop dead – it wouldn’t work. Wolfram never retreated; he was both too proud and too arrogant for that.
---
This time, dinner was similar to a small banquet. There weren’t many more various foods or drinks than usual; however, the dining room had been turned into some kind of a lounge: the servants had carried in a few sofas and armchairs, and there were candlesticks arranged around the room to lighten all the corners.
The von Ashira family and their guests sat at the table and ate quietly. There hardly were any conversations except a few compliments for the meal or small-talk about weather. Wolfram realized that earlier he would have found the atmosphere ominous, but now he was just annoyed. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed the relationship between the dukes before. When one knew what to look for, it was so obvious: their eyes would accidentally meet and linger, they also exchanged hardly noticeable smirks here and there. Wolfram guessed that Athara and Halea weren’t aware. Eldara kept even his own siblings in cruel suspense; the relationship wasn’t something von Sedera wanted his wife to know. And yet, Yozak somehow knew. Well, as one of the best spies in Shin Makoku, it was his job to know.
After the dinner, Barista excused himself and went to attend to his healing son. Wolfram could see that he was discontent with the outcome of his visit. Barista was also visibly disgruntled by the flutist who had entered the dining room just when he was leaving. Wolfram could understand him – his son had been attacked, almost beaten to death, and was still bedridden, meanwhile there was a party a few corridors away.
When Barista left, the atmosphere in the dining-room became lighter. Everyone moved to sofas and armchairs to sip their wine and listen to the flute. Eldara and von Sedera sat down separately from everyone and were occupying the sofa at the farther end of the room. Halea and von Sarda sat down next to the fireplace, which left Wolfram and Athara to enjoy each other’s company.
Sitting down on a sofa next to the curtained window, they gave each other a look, smiled politely and then realized they hardly had anything to talk about. While sipping his wine, Athara carefully watched his brother and von Sedera interact. There was a strange expression in his eyes, and Wolfram thought that maybe he did know about his brother and Neryan.
“Wolfram?”
Wolfram was pulled out of his thoughts he had sank into while Athara had been preoccupied with watching the dukes. “Yes?”
“What would you say to us having a night out tomorrow?”
Wolfram gave the younger man an unsure look. He remembered Eldara mentioning his brother’s intention to invite him. “A night out? Where?”
Athara smiled mischievously. “Let it be a surprise.”
“A surprise?” Wolfram drawled. “Well, alright,” he agreed. He wasn’t one to enjoy noisy outings (he suspected it was going to be noisy), however, he was very curious about the place Athara spent so much of his time, and of which – if he had managed to decipher correctly – Eldara didn’t particularly approve. This made him even more eager to go there.
Athara offered him a wide grin. “Splendid.” He was obviously enjoying the thought of taking Wolfram to his hideout.
“Do I need to somehow prepare myself? Like dress in something special or something like that?” Wolfram asked.
“Oh, no. Anything will do.”
Wolfram felt slightly uncomfortable. “Thanks for letting me borrow your clothes; I really didn’t think it would last so long.”
“Don’t worry about that. It’s my pleasure.”
It was astounding how Athara’s attitude had changed towards him after saving Halea. They still felt awkward around each other, but it was obvious that Athara was very grateful. Wolfram, however, couldn’t wait for tomorrow when his ordered clothes would arrive. Many more were still in the making, but at last he would finally have a few of his own.
Wolfram turned his head at the sound of Halea’s silvery laughter. Even if Wolfram had no romantic feelings towards her, his ego still suffered when it faced von Sarda’s success.
Athara sat with him for about twenty minutes, then finally lost interest in the evening completely and went to sleep. Before leaving the room, he had advised Wolfram to economize his energy for tomorrows night and have his rest for now as well. The blond decided to have one more slice of bread with his favorite pate and then go to sleep too.
Wolfram’s eyes were caught by a movement on the dukes’ sofa. Von Sedera had stood up and, now, was walking towards the table with his empty glass, very likely with an intention to fill it. Chewing, Wolfram watched Eldara stand up as well and head in his direction. Wolfram swallowed at about the same time when von Ashira sat down on the sofa next to him.
“We somehow managed to pull it off,” Eldara said softly, saluting the blond with his half-empty glass. “You really were a big help.”
Wolfram’s anger flared up. He had an urge to occupy his suddenly twitchy hands with something. “Glad to be of assistance,” he said, taking a napkin off the small coffee table in front of him and starting to fold it into an unrecognizable object. “When are they leaving?”
“Von Sedera is leaving tomorrow. The baron will wait for his son’s health to improve and then the two of them will return to Elkia together.”
“So Barista will stay and snoop around,” Wolfram drawled, folding the napkin into a square object with a protruding horn.
“Yes, it is somewhat disconcerting, but once von Sedera leaves, we can relax; Barista is hardly a threat.”
“Von Sedera is a rather intimidating man, isn’t he?” Wolfram hummed while the napkin was slowly acquiring a shape of a boat with a tail.
“He indeed is. You would not want to get on his bad side. As said, I am very grateful to you for your help.”
Wolfram’s fingers crushed the napkin. He nodded. “You are welcome. Now excuse me, I will get myself some more wine,” he said, standing up. He threw the crumpled napkin back onto the coffee table.
The duke gave him a searching look. His eyes followed the blond’s journey towards the table. Despite what he had expected, after filling his glass, Wolfram didn’t return to the sofa but chose to stand alone near the table at the farther window.
Ungracefully, Wolfram took a large gulp of wine. He was seething with rage. Eldara continued his game and was obviously enjoying it. It was all about games and tests for the duke, disregarding everything else. Wolfram felt insulted and betrayed just like when he got to know about the Esoteric Stones. He knew he shouldn’t feel betrayed. It was not as if von Ashira was his friend, he had never been, and he shouldn’t trust him for anything.
The blond was already drinking the last drops of wine when he saw Eldara coming towards him. Wolfram stepped aside to lower his glass on the cupboard at the wall. Eldara was still approaching, and Wolfram thought about leaving the dining-room as he felt he was too overwrought to keep up a polite conversation. It would look strange, though, like he were escaping.
“Do you feel alright? You don’t look too well,” Eldara said, stopping in front of the blond. Wolfram wasn’t looking at him, instead, his gaze was concentrated at something above his shoulder, and the duke turned around to see what it was. It didn’t seem that the blond was looking at anything in particular.
“I’m fine,” Wolfram said, averting his eyes to the cupboard he had left his glass on.
“You seem to have an uncanny inclination towards drinking…” Eldara drawled after following his gaze. He was a little worried about the blond. Wolfram indeed had a drinking problem. It wasn’t acute yet, but it had to be controlled and stopped before it got out of hand. He wasn’t certain he should or even had the right to interfere but he felt a need to.
“Do I?” Wolfram muttered. He leaned on the windowsill so that the light draft coming from the unsealed window would cool him a little. He was glad that the candles stood farther on the table and von Ashira couldn’t clearly see him. Wolfram knew that his face was certainly almost red in fury – that was probably why Eldara thought he was drunk.
“Yes,” the duke confirmed. “It would be a good idea to cut down on wine a little.”
“Thank you for the advice, I’ll keep it in mind.”
Wolfram’s answer was crisp and dry, and Eldara inspected his face. His body language was also tense and jerky. It was hard to tell what was wrong with the blond, thus Eldara wrote it off as drunken fatigue.
“I’m really concerned about you,” Eldara said honestly.
“Is that so?”
Von Ashira smiled charmingly at Wolfram. “Well, of course. Now you are my favorite liar.”
Wolfram’s grip on the windowsill was so hard that his knuckles were white. “What an honor,” he managed to mutter after a few seconds of calming himself down.
“You sound sarcastic,” Eldara noticed. “But I really mean it.”
Wolfram’s right hook caught the duke completely off guard, throwing him backwards so that he fell, whamming the back of his head against the table. The table moved sideways with a scrape, dishes jingling loudly, the plate which happened to get under the duke’s head splitting with a crack.
With his fist still raised, Wolfram stared down at Eldara on the carpet. The duke had lost coordination for a moment and was blinking rapidly trying to orient himself.
“Go and laugh about this, you lying bastards!” Wolfram, whose mind was suddenly filled with Eldara and von Sedera laughing their heads off, hissed. His eyes snapped to von Sedera, who, like everyone else, was rooted to the floor, staring at him with his mouth open. Wolfram glared at him for a few seconds but, since von Sedera didn’t take any action, his attention was drawn to something twinkling on his right. The glass in Halea’s slack fingers had tipped sideways, the wine spilling onto her dress and down on the carpet, sparkling in the candlelight.
The sight of the shaken woman had an immediate effect of an icy clarity on Wolfram. With a bout of abrupt panic, he looked at Eldara again, and then shot towards the door. The corridors blurred past him as he ran to his room. He could hear someone shouting after him, but couldn’t care less. Once in his room, he pushed the door shut and locked it.
“Shit!” he cursed, flinging himself onto his bed face-first. His wish to go home was suddenly so strong that it hurt physically.
Meanwhile, in the dining-room, everyone shook the affright off, although in various intervals. First to come round was von Sedera. He straightened, lowered his glass onto the table, and briskly walked over to Eldara.
“Are you alright?”
Von Ashira shook his head, trying to get his bearings back. He touched himself on the back of his head that was still rattling and then brought his hand to his face. There was no blood, just brownish plum marmalade.
“I’m fine,” Eldara said, trying to stand up. He took Neryan’s proffered hand and steadied himself.
“Will you tell me what it was about?” von Sedera asked.
“I think he figured out I was…”
“Eldara, are you alright?” Halea rushed to her brother. Aghast, she started fussing around him, touching his head and face, until Eldara pushed her away, gently.
“I’m fine, Halea. It’s just marmalade. Look at your dress, you…”
“Oh, no!” Halea moaned, her attention now fully occupied with her dress that had drying puddles of red wine on it. “It was my favorite!” She rushed out of the room to try and save it in time.
Unsure, Fredrick von Sarda looked at Eldara, then at the doors through which his beloved had left, then at Eldara again. With a wave of his hand towards the doors, von Ashira indicated for him to follow her. There was nothing for him to do in the dining-room anyway. There was probably nothing he could help Halea with either, but Eldara preferred him away from the room.
“He nearly knocked my teeth out,” Eldara said, rubbing his jaw. He was amazed – he wasn’t used to being taken completely by surprise and getting knocked off his feet.
“Well, that’s what you get for messing around with a full-blooded Demon,” von Sedera said matter-of-factly. He watched von Ashira for a moment with a serious look on his face. “Eldara, let me give you a piece of advice. Your sister is going to marry and leave, your brother hates you, and I have my wife. If I were you, I would stop moping around and run after von Bielefeld this instance.”
“Moron,” Eldara said, but there was no strength behind it. “I told you there is nothing between us.”
Sighing, Neryan leaned on the same windowsill Wolfram had leaned on. “So you are alright with leaving this as it is?” he asked. “You lied and he punched you and now you’ll quit on each other?”
“No, I’m not fine with it,” von Ashira muttered after a moment. He was not fine at all. Just before Wolfram’s fist rose, there had been so much rage and hurt on the blond’s face that… No, he was absolutely not fine with leaving everything as it was. “I think I have done something…disgraceful,” Eldara said after a few seconds of thinking it all through.
“Not the first time, mind you,” von Sedera commented. “I’m impressed you are aware this time.”
“Oh, shut up!” Eldara snapped at him. “Look who’s talking!”
Von Sedera chuckled. “Well, nobody else would dare to tell you.”
Eldara was silent for a moment. “He would,” he said then.
“Yeah, but it seems he would always punch you first. Just so you listened better.”
“Just shut up.”
---
There was a soft knock on the door, and Wolfram turned his head to look at it. It was completely dark in the room as he hadn’t lit any candles. Ignoring the sound, he turned away and buried his head back into the fluffy pillow. Right now, he didn’t want to see anyone unless it was Gwendal. Obviously, it was not his brother thus the door was going to stay locked.
The knock repeated, more insistently this time. “Wolfram?”
Eldara was number one on Wolfram’s “Don’t want to see anyone” list. He tried to ignore the persistent knocking but the pillow on his head didn’t help. Wolfram cursed softly. Even if Eldara finally stopped torturing the door, there was still tomorrow to face. This conversation was inevitable like death itself.
“I’m deeply asleep at the moment,” Wolfram said loudly, glaring at the door from under the pillow.
“Well, of course, you are. Now open the door.”
Sighing in resignation, Wolfram rolled out of the bed, snapped his fingers to light the candle, and went to let the duke in. The blond was taken aback as, after opening the door he saw not only Eldara, but three of his guards and Fajdal as well. It was clear that they had come here after having seen Wolfram tear down the corridors without reacting to any tries to stop him. Now they were staring at their lord with questions on their faces, not certain what the ordeal was, and whether they should let the duke pass.
Wolfram wasn’t certain whether letting Eldara in was a good idea, either. He had punched the man after all. Eldara, though, didn’t seem to be angry, instead, he looked pacific.
“I think we need to talk,” Eldara said when Wolfram was just staring at him, unsure.
“Yes, we do,” Wolfram agreed, opening the door wider. “It’s alright,” he said to Fajdal. “Leave two at the door and go to sleep.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Wolfram let the duke pass and closed the door.
“You are bleeding,” Eldara said when he saw Wolfram favor his hand. The blond seemed surprised. He took a closer look at his hand. When he had balled his right hand into a fist to hit Eldara, several healing wounds reopened. A few tiny trickles of blood had made their way down his fingers, where red droplets hung on his fingertips.
“Damn,” Wolfram said, his gazing towards his bed, automatically. Yet he couldn’t see anything on the cover in the dim light of the candle.
“Forget it,” Eldara said impatiently. He took Wolfram by his left arm and tugged him towards the candle on the table. He inspected the blond’s palm but it didn’t seem that it was anything serious, just a few crusts had been torn open. He turned Wolfram’s hand sideways to look at his knuckles. They were a little reddish but no skin had been broken. Normally, the tender skin would have been bruised; not of a full-blooded Demon’s, though. Eldara pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and offered it for Wolfram. Only then did he become aware that the blond was watching him with a curious look on his face.
“It is clean,” the duke said, dangling the handkerchief in the air as it appeared to him that Wolfram was hesitant to take it.
Wolfram’s lips quirked up at their corners. “Thank you,” he said taking the handkerchief and pressing it against his right palm, gently. He pushed one of the chairs away from the table and sat down. Eldara followed his suite. In the candlelight, he searched Wolfram’s face.
“I didn’t knock any of your teeth out, did I?” the blond asked, and Eldara wasn’t certain whether he sounded hopeful or disappointed.
The duke shook his head. “No, you didn’t.” Were he not a half-blood, though, he would certainly have lost one or two. Wolfram didn’t pull his punches. He probably didn’t realize very well that Humans didn’t grow their teeth back. Or maybe he did. Eldara was left wondering.
“I’m sorry,” Eldara said softly. The reaction was instant, Wolfram leaning away from him.
Wolfram’s first instinct was to ask what he was sorry about. However, he hesitated as it was apparent that both of them knew what it was about. “Yes,” he admitted. “I am angry.”
“I am sorry for abusing your trust.”
Wolfram was silent. It was not something you could make right with only a few words. He had indeed, for some unfathomable reason, trusted Eldara. Even if he had passed Eldara’s loyalty test, the duke had failed his spectacularly.
“I crossed the line.”
“It was not the first time,” Wolfram noted, smiling wryly. “I am surprised I am still not married to your sister.”
Eldara groaned mentally. Even if it had seemed that Wolfram had known this even before von Sedera told him, he should have known this was going to return to haunt him.
It was probably the first time when Wolfram saw that the duke could not say anything. Wolfram sighed. “I suppose you couldn’t do without it. It was one of the means to keep Orinth the Fifth away from Raizgad.”
Eldara felt compelled to just agree but one more lie would erase all his previous efforts. Doubting whether he was in the right state of mind, he shook his head. “To tell you the truth, Orinth didn’t express much interest in your stay in Kardera and left it all to me. The rumor… I admit I had toyed with the idea of you and Halea but it was rather about pissing your brother off than anything else.”
Wolfram stared at him in disbelief. “You’re an asshole,” he spat. “You really are!”
“Well, yes, I am,” Eldara agreed. Even now he didn’t feel particularly bad about that lie. It was not as if he could have forced Wolfram to marry Halea. He was perfectly aware that Wolfram didn’t feel sexual attraction for women, and Halea, meanwhile, was more inclined to think of him as her hero than a potential husband. Politically, it would be a very beneficial marriage but otherwise it would probably be disastrous for both Wolfram and Halea.
Wolfram could only guess what the older male was thinking. He more or less understood why Eldara wanted to annoy Gwendal. No, instead of insulting or annoying, it was rather a peculiar sort of teasing. It was just a game to the duke, like many other things. Gwendal must already be aware of that. His brother wasn’t particularly good at these kinds of games. He was a man of a more direct approach. He probably wasn’t going to respond in any way unless the duke crossed the line. This didn’t mean Eldara’s petty games wouldn’t irritate Gwendal. Or maybe quite the opposite – he would be amused. Wolfram wondered which it was.
“I am not going to marry her,” Wolfram said firmly. “You can forget that.”
Eldara nodded. “Yes, I know that. Besides, I think that, at this point, von Sarda would have some serious objections to that.”
Wolfram relaxed somewhat. Then an idea occurred to him. “Wait. Wait a moment.” Now he remembered the words he himself said to Eldara, about a woman becoming more attractive when one needed to compete for her. “Von Sarda. He isn’t here to make me jealous, is he?”
Eldara laughed. “No. I assure you that he is here on his own volition. Wolfram,” he said softly, “I am aware that you prefer men.”
Wolfram cleared his throat. He raised his eyebrows slightly. “Don’t tell me now you will bring Athara into play…”
The duke burst out laughing. “No, I could only do that over his dead body.” Eldara watched Wolfram’s somewhat reddish face. “I am sorry,” he repeated. “I really am. I didn’t mean to insult you. It was rather curious to see whether you…”
“…whether I’m loyal,” Wolfram finished for him. “Well, I was. And what of it?” He raised his hand to stop the duke when he opened his mouth. “Don’t make it any worse than it is. I don’t want to hear any of your cunning plans.” Lowering his hand, the blond sighed. “I shouldn’t have hit you but you were asking for it. Like really begging for it with your comments on how good I did in front of von Sedera.”
“I got what I deserved,” Eldara agreed.
“Indeed.”
The duke chuckled. Wolfram wasn’t someone who forgave easily. “Well, hopefully, next time you feel like punching me, we can talk it out first.”
“Hopefully, next time you try to play games with me, it would be chess or cards.”
“That sounds much better than missing teeth.”
Wolfram watched the duke push his chair back and walk over to the door. He told him to keep the handkerchief. Wolfram nodded; it was going to stain permanently anyway. He watched the older man leave, then walked over to the door to lock it and went to sleep.
Wolfram couldn’t fall asleep for a long time after the duke left. He lay on his side, his thoughts swirling lazily. His mind went through his and Eldara’s conversation over and over. He wanted to believe that Eldara had been honest with him, but his experience with the older man made him doubtful.
The blond fell asleep at about 5 o’clock in the morning. He slept without ever waking through the noise made by the watch changing and the servants scurrying around with their tasks. His mind conjured a dream of his and Yuuri’s wedding. When he woke up, his face was wet with tears and he was uncomfortably hard. Disoriented, he brushed the tears off and stared at his wet fingers. He grunted softly when he remembered the dream. It wasn’t anything new, him having dreams of this kind. His dreams gave him what he couldn’t have in reality. As they were mostly sexual in nature, they made him feel guilty because he knew that Yuuri hated the very thought of kissing him. Wolfram couldn’t help himself, though.
Wondering, the blond wiped his hands on his covers. Slowly, he remembered what the dream had been about. He remembered the comfortable joy and delight when he and Yuuri got married. There had been an illusion of happiness: a lot of attachment, trust and laughter but in the end it was never serious. Yuuri smiled at him but there was still the distance between them, something missing. When he realized that, the dream became darker. Back was the frustrated anxiety and helplessness and tries to win Yuuri over. At some point he had glimpsed Yuuri fucking a maid. They knew Yuuri had noticed him watching, but both of them kept quiet about that. Then there was this very important negotiation for peace with Kardera, and he was one of the conditions for the pact and Yuuri had given him away. To Neryan of all people. Just before he had woken up, he had been dreaming about the duke and himself having sex. He remembered the lust and humiliation that the intercourse brought him.
Wolfram turned to his side, exhaling loudly into the pillow. He more or less knew what had brought on the dream. He started having wet dreams four days ago, which indicated that his body had fully recovered. This was the second time already. The rest of the dream was just the result of his and Yuuri’s failed attempt at a relationship and his constant insecurities.
Wolfram was still hard and uncomfortable but the conflicting emotions he had experienced in the dream prevented him from relieving himself as he wasn’t certain he would feel better after that. Very likely he would just relive the humiliation he had felt when Yuuri gave him away to another man.
Tbc
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