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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
- 1
- 2
- 3
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. 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.
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 HARPG0
Part 2
Yuuri raised his head up from the document he had been signing to look at Gwendal entering his study. Gwendal was carrying a few pages of paper. Judging from the expression on the general’s face, these were the documents Wolfram had been talking about. Wolfram hadn’t been kidding when he said they would be ready by noon. So fast.
Yuuri pushed everything aside from his desk to make space for these documents. Yuuri took them from the general and, with his head, motioned at the seat in front of his desk. The silence was grating on his nerves but he didn’t know what to say. Instead, he concentrated on the papers in his right hand. There were two copies of the same document. Both of them already bore Wolfram’s signatures. He started reading the first one.
“This was sudden, wasn’t it?” he said when he had read them through.
“No. What was sudden was the engagement. Its termination has been going on for five years already.”
Yuuri gave the general a wry smile. For him, because of the time flow difference between Earth and Shin Makoku, it had been three and a half. Despite this, he nodded. “Yes, I’ve been avoiding confronting this for far too long.”
“It’s for the best,” Gwendal said. “You’re a good man, Yuuri, a good king, but you are not the one for Wolfram – it will never work.”
Without answering, Yuuri lowered the papers and reached for his pen. Gwendal rarely spoke so openly and he had to respect that. Slowly, Yuuri put his signature on the first and then the second copy. “This is it,” he said, putting his pen down. He gathered the documents and held them out for the general to take.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Gwendal said. Without adding anything else, he took the papers and left the room.
When Gwendal returned to his study, he found Wolfram where he had left him five minutes ago before going to Yuuri to get his signatures. Numbly, he waved the papers in the air. “It’s over.” The greenness in Wolfram’s eyes became overflowing.
The blond stood up and met him halfway to his desk to ascertain for himself. The signatures, indeed, were there, blue on white. The elaborate signature with scrolls and quirks Gunter had taught him. Wolfram stared at the sheets of paper in his hand. He suddenly realized that deep down he had expected Yuuri to rush in shouting: ‘I’ll never let you go! Never!’ This had only been wishful thinking, of course. If that wasn’t enough, Yuuri had signed them in five minutes.
Wolfram’s lips formed a wry smile. It was over now.
A few clear droplets fell on the documents and Gwendal pulled them out of Wolfram’s fingers to carry them over to his desk. He put them down and turned back to his brother. He hesitated between ignoring Wolfram’s tears and trying to console him. Time healed all wounds, and there was plenty of fish in the sea. Right. But somehow, now, seeing Wolfram reduced to this broken mess didn’t make it so believable. He wanted to feel Yuuri’s neck snapping in his hands.
Wiping at his tears angrily, Wolfram lowered his forehead on Gwendal’s shoulder when his brother embraced him. “I’m sorry,” he breathed out, embarrassed, while Gwendal was stroking his hair. He swallowed loudly then took in a few lungfuls but instead of calming him down, this made the dam burst. He started chocking on his tears. “Th-this is so disgraceful,” he rasped out.
Gwendal patted him on his back awkwardly. “Don’t worry about it; it’s only natural.” He produced a handkerchief out of his pocket. He gave it to Wolfram.
“Th-thanks.”
While Wolfram was blowing his nose, Gwendal guided him to the chair. He gently pushed on his brother’s shoulders to seat him there. Not knowing what to do, he stood in front of the sniffling blond. He stroked Wolfram’s shoulder comfortingly.
“It’s okay. It’s over now.”
Gwendal winced when this made Wolfram hiccup and hide his face deeper into the handkerchief. He had never been very good at consoling people. He rubbed Wolfram’s shoulder again and then retreated to his place at the desk where he thought he would cause less damage. He fidgeted with his fingers on the desk while Wolfram blew his nose.
“Thanks,” Wolfram muttered.
“Keep it,” Gwendal said quickly, noticing that his brother was fidgeting with the wet handkerchief, unsure.
Wolfram smiled at him then hiccupped. “I’ll return it after it’s been washed.”
Gwendal watched the reddish eyes and teary face. Wolfram was wiping at his cheeks with his fingers, seemingly calmer. “You okay now?”
“Yes, somewhat.” Seeing Gwendal’s worried face, he shook his head. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”
“You’d better be. We still have to make the announcement at lunch.” He looked at his watch. “In fifteen minutes, in fact.”
“Mother will be disappointed.”
Gwendal’s eyebrows rose slightly. He hummed something out, but restrained himself from commenting. He doubted this would disappoint or even surprise the former queen. Another thing which had kept him from commenting was that their mother would probably start seeing Yuuri as a potential object of interest. Cecilie was morally flexible concerning her lovers.
oOoOo_About two weeks later_oOoOo
Long, encumbered tables lined the hall. Fruit, snacks, bottles of wine and bowls of punch were waiting for the surge of a hungry mob. The hall was still empty but for the servants straightening the tablecloths and adding last minute touches to the setting. Three maids rushed in with vases filled with fresh flowers. The heavy vases found place on the tables as well.
Absentmindedly leaning on the rails of the stair, Wolfram watched the scurrying servants. Unlike his family, he hadn’t been waiting in anticipation for the banquet. He, like the servants, thought this a hassle. He didn’t like banquets and the fake pleasantries which came with them. Sometimes, it was like watching a comedy, only that he didn’t find the play amusing and wished for it to end faster.
During the last few days, Blood Pledge Castle had become a temporary home for many noble families and their servants who had arrived from the furthest regions of Shin Makoku or overseas kingdoms. Their rooms were on the opposite wing of the castle. This was another reason why Wolfram didn’t like banquets – one had to, somehow, keep all of the guests occupied for as long as possible. If not, there would not be a moment when one wouldn’t stumble across curious guests wandering through the castle halls. Even then, one had to be ready to smile and to plunge into absolutely meaningless conversations.
Wolfram sighed and pushed himself off the rail. Ten more minutes and people would start flooding the hall. This was going to be one endless day. Wolfram turned his head as one of the doors opened, letting in a horde of musicians. He hoped that at least the music was going to be good. From what he had vaguely heard during their rehearsals in the yard, they were not bad at all.
Dancing was another thing Wolfram didn’t like. Listening to music was something he enjoyed, but dancing… He supposed he was average at dancing but he didn’t like the close proximity of the bodies as he was sensitive to other people invading his personal space. The only body he would have liked to invade his space and be very proximate with always refused to dance with him anyway.
After musing about all things he didn’t like about banquets, Wolfram tried to look on the brighter side. Not that he believed there was one. It was simply because Gwendal had told him long ago that it was easier that way.
Wolfram reached the end of the stairs. Then, waiting for his family to show up, he sidled up to a wall. Soon enough, the household entered the hall and the last thing he knew he was being swept up with the rising tide. Soon, he was standing close to the throne and watching the guests flood in to congratulate the king on his birthday. Puffed dresses, smart tailcoats, and medaled uniforms rustled and swooshed all around.
A row had formed while the herald announced everyone’s names, ranks, and social status. Yuuri greeted and smiled brightly at everyone, nodding and accepting curtsies and, to Wolfram’s understanding, more importantly, expensive gifts.
“The Count and Countess of Desmaria, Perilus and Secilie von Donara.”
A bow and a curtsy followed, greetings were exchanged and another couple stopped in front of the throne.
“The Duke of Raizgad, Eldara von Ashira and Lady Halea von Ashira.”
“Thank you very much for coming, Your Grace, My Lady. I hope your stay will be pleasant.”
“Thank you very much. I’m sure it will be, Your Majesty,” Lady von Ashira said, curtsying.
“Your Majesty.”
Interested, Yuuri watched the duke bow. The Duke of Raizgad was the one the King of Kardera had sent in his place. Yuuri wondered how much of the illness was true and how much of it was pretended. Shin Makoku had tried to form friendly, diplomatic ties with the Kingdom of Kardera but the king didn’t seem to want to have anything to do with Shin Makoku, and Demons in general. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to be interested in joining alliances against Shin Makoku, either.
The duke was a tall, handsome man who seemed to be in his mid-twenties with an oblong face and regular features. His blue eyes and small mouth had a certain sternness about them. He had long dark hair with a dark tinge of violet, wearing it loose and letting it cascade down his shoulders and to the small of his back. The duke was wearing a long military jacket which Yuuri found similar to Gwendal’s only that the duke’s was brown. Yuuri noticed that it was free of medals.
Yuuri looked at Halea von Ashira. She was a beautiful young woman wearing a blue dress which, according to the latest fashion, was encumbered by elaborate laces and ribbons. It was obvious that the duke and she were related by blood – Yuuri guessed that she was his sister; he would have to look this up in archives later. The woman was younger but had the same-colored hair and was tall as well. Her sparkling eyes, though, were brown and with much more warmth in them than the duke’s.
“Liustras von Spinta,” the herald introduced and, smiling, Yuuri turned his eyes to the next people in the row.
When the introductions were over, the guests were asked to join the table. Servants started bringing in hot meals and, holding a glass of wine, Gunter stood up to give a speech. After which, Yuuri thanked everyone one more time for coming to celebrate with him and invited everyone to enjoy the banquet.
With soft music playing in the background, Wolfram emptied his second glass of wine. He wasn’t hungry, but, trying not to stand out, he accepted some of the stewed pork offered by one of the servants. He cut a small piece of it and started chewing idly.
Once people were full, they started drifting around in the hall, introducing each other, talking. Wolfram turned to look at Yuuri, who was surrounded by a circle of varicolored puffed dresses, giggles and endless flirting. Irritated, Wolfram sipped his wine. Figures. As soon as the news of them breaking up started going around, Yuuri suddenly became every woman’s dream. Who wouldn’t want to marry a king, after all?
Wolfram snickered to himself silently. It was obvious that Yuuri adored the attention. He could see how happy his wimp was to be finally able to freely enjoy the attention of women. Wasn’t this every man’s dream, after all? To be surrounded by beautiful women who fought for him amongst themselves.
On the other side of the hall, the Duke of Raizgad was leaning on a windowsill and looking at the Royal Garden outside. He figured that when the heat let up, they would be invited to look around there. He was looking forward to it. He sighed and took a sip from his glass. This was only the beginning of the banquet and he was already bored out of his mind. He wished his king had found someone else to stand in for him.
He started and nearly spilled his glass as someone touched his shoulder. “Ah, isn’t this my dear sister?” he said in a slightly reproachful tone after turning around.
“Careful with that wine,” Halea said. She patted him on his shoulder. “Hang on in there, Eldara. Your self-sacrifice won’t go unnoticed, I promise.”
The duke gave her a short smile. “The best reward would be if you finally married,” he said. “Regarding that, any luck with the king?”
Churning her wine in her glass, Halea sighed. She looked over where the king was surrounded by a throng of excited women. “No. He seems to like them blond and stupid.”
Eldara’s eyes found Wolfram von Bielefeld. “Obviously,” he said, grinning.
She elbowed him lightly. “Stop it. I heard it was a heartbreaking separation.”
“Oh, I have no doubts about that,” Eldara said. “I’d also be heartbroken if I lost so much money and influence.”
Halea shrugged. “You’re probably right not believing in love. But I haven’t lost my hope to find the one.”
“Yes,” the duke saluted her with his glass, “good luck with that. As long as you believe that all your problems lie in your ‘not blond’ hair and you ‘not being stupid’, everything should be alright.”
Halea’s brow rose at him. “I don’t want to hear that from someone who is thirty-one and is still a bachelor.”
Eldara grinned at her. “And thank gods for that!” He raised his glass. “To my future brother-in-law, then?”
“Sure,” she said, clinking her glass against his. “But mark my words, one day you will die of too much sarcasm.”
“Better than of syphilis anyway.”
---
The next two hours found Wolfram lounging about in the hall. He was hot and tired, somewhat drunk, and could not stop sulking. He felt better when some of the tables were moved outside and everyone was invited to go into the garden. He found a bench under a lime tree and settled there.
Wolfram didn’t have much peace as soon he found himself encircled by women. Maybe he would have been pleased about his popularity but this meant that they had lost hope to succeed with Yuuri. Even if he had absolutely no interest in women, getting leftovers was hurting his pride. To his dismay, he had no much choice except to smile stupidly and maintain the conversations. He started developing a headache.
From about ten meters away, the Duke of Raizgad was distractedly watching his sister’s futile attempts to get Wolfram von Bielefeld’s attention. He could tell that it was a lost cause. The blond was participating in conversations and even squeezing out a smile here and a laugh there, but, in general, he looked as if someone was sticking needles under his fingernails. The duke chuckled silently as his sister seemed to have finally realized that and left the circle, looking for someone else to pester.
“Eldara von Ashira. How nice of you to come to Shin Makoku, Your Grace.”
Eldara turned around to look at Cecilie von Spitzweg. He took his glass in his left hand and reached the proffered hand. “Your Highness,” he said before kissing it.
She smiled at him coquettishly. “Still as gallant as ever.”
“Ma’am,” Eldara said, letting go of her hand and straightening, “when we met last time, I was just a ten-year-old. I think I could have been anything – hyperactive, bratty, or insolent, anything but gallant.”
Cecilie’s glass also returned to her right hand while she was smiling at him charmingly. “Oh, even then you were showing signs of success.”
Accepting the compliment, Eldara bowed.
She looked at his uniform closer. “I see His Grace isn’t wearing any of his medals today…”
“They jingle too much, Ma’am; with them, I sound like a belled cat taking a stroll.”
Cecilie laughed softly. “Now you’re boasting.”
Eldara smiled. “Maybe.”
Cecilie came closer to him and softly clinked their glasses together. “You did a wonderful job at raising your siblings.”
Eldara bowed again. “This is not my achievement at all, Ma’am. I had a lot of servants to take care of them.”
“Oh, don’t be so modest, dear. I know how hard it is.”
“You are too kind, Ma’am.”
“If you bow one more time, your back might break.”
Eldara chuckled. “Then it’s better to stop embarrassing me, Ma’am.”
“And, please, humor me and drop the honorifics, dear. I’m too old and you’re too young for that.”
They looked at each other, smiling. Eldara brought his glass to his lips. And why in the world did Orinth the Fifth send him here? There were so many other people who loved banquets and these idiotic conversations. Why him? He wished he could just get drunk and fall asleep in front of a fireplace like he sometimes did at home. Getting drunk here, though, might lead to him falling asleep with his head in a salad bowl. Not that it was the worst thing that could happen.
“Excuse me for asking, but how old is Halea?” Cecilie roused him from his dark thoughts.
“My sister?” Eldara asked, somewhat surprised. “She’s nearly twenty.”
“About time to get married.”
“Tell me about it,” Eldara muttered, sipping from his glass. At least, the wine was good. “She is getting more and more restless with every passing month. Children would do good for her.”
“I think my Gwendal would be a good match. He should have married long ago as well.”
“Gwendal von Voltaire?” the duke looked at her incredulously. “But he’s a Demon.”
“Oh, but I heard you have nothing against Demons.”
Eldara gave her a searching look. “That’s so, but I’m not the one who would have to live with one.”
Cecilie suddenly offered him such a bright smile that it nearly blinded the duke. “Oh, what a wonderful idea! You’d be a nice pair!”
Stunned, Eldara stared at the innocently smiling Cecilie. “Who? Me and Gwendal von Voltaire?” His eyes found the older man in the hall. Noticing the sharp stare, von Voltaire turned to look at him. His right eyebrow rose at him questioningly.
Eldara gave him a polite smile and lowered his eyes to Cecilie. “I don’t think this is possible. We have… Besides, he’s already married. To Shin Makoku.”
“Oh? You prefer women, then?”
The duke gave Cecilie a somewhat strained smile. So this was where it had been leading. It always was. “They are better at some things than men, I suppose.”
“Oh?” Cecilie drawled, her finger’s sliding over the duke’s arm lightly. “Which things that may be?”
“Sewing, for example. Or spending money. Bearing children is also their specialty.”
Cecilie chuckled lightly. “I assure you that if I were your wife, now you’d be listing other things women are good at.”
“Mother?”
The duke turned to see Gwendal von Voltaire standing a step behind him. He realized that his face must have shown relief because the corners of von Voltaire’s lips quirked up. Eldara quickly schooled his face into a neutral expression and nodded. “Your Highness.” Gwendal must have thought that the previous glance he had given the man had been a call for help and now the man had gallantly come to his rescue.
“Your Grace.” Then Gwendal turned to Cecilie. “Mother, Countess Larensi has expressed a wish to share her experience of her travels with you.”
“Oh, Gwendal, dear,” Cecilie turned to take him by his arm and brought him closer to the duke. “We have just been discussing that you and Eldara would make a wonderful pair!”
Eldara hid his face behind his wineglass and took a sip, indicating he had nothing to do with this. Meanwhile Gwendal gave him a questioning look.
“I’m very sorry, Your Grace, but you’re not my type,” he said, inclining his head slightly. “Mother,” he said, firmly taking Cecilie by her arm and leading her away.
Speechless, the duke stared at von Voltaire’s back.
“Eldara?”
The duke looked at his sister, who had lightly tugged him on his left sleeve.
“What happened? You look somehow shaken up.”
“Hmm…” Taking his time, Eldara emptied his glass. “Well, I think I was proposed to and then rudely rejected. I’m still thinking whether I should feel insulted or honored or both.”
“By whom?”
“By Cecilie von Spitzweg and Gwendal von Voltaire.”
Halea patted him on his arm soothingly. “Well, Cecilie has already proposed herself to some ten men today, so it’s not a big deal. Now the part with von Voltaire sounds a bit more interesting.”
“He said I’m not his type.”
Halea gave him a surprised look then gasped. “You what? Just went and tried to pick him up? You really have balls of steel!”
The duke resisted the urge to slap himself on his forehead. “Language,” he warned. “It’s just the third time I saw the man. Von Voltaire is…not really what I look for in a partner, either. It was only a misunderstanding.”
Halea smiled at him sheepishly. “Right. Well, they say that love from the first sight does exist…” She chuckled. “So he hurt your pride, huh?”
Eldara stared at her for a few seconds. “Just a little,” he admitted with a light chuckle. “However, I’ll be civil and just ignore this and go get myself some more wine.”
Halea shrugged. She followed her brother, who had started making his way towards the tables which held food and drinks. He was grateful that nobody stopped him on his mission, and, in a beeline, he went for the drinks. Before he could do that, he was overtaken by one of the servants who scurried over to him with a tray with wineglasses. Thanking, he took one.
The siblings found an unoccupied bench. The sun was already setting and Eldara was looking forward to it. Maybe, there would be a chance to slip out of the banquet unnoticed. Maybe his wish to get drunk and fall asleep in front of a fireplace could still be fulfilled. Come to think of it, did they have a fireplace in their room here?
He watched Halea eating a cream biscuit. He fought the urge to wipe the crumbs off her lips. Sometimes, he forgot she was not a child anymore. He was going to miss her after she married.
“Here,” he indicated on his own lips. “Some crumbs.”
“Oh. Thanks,” she said wiping them off with a handkerchief which had suddenly appeared in her hands. The duke didn’t even want to think about where she was carrying it.
“Actually, Cecilie von Spitzweg said she wouldn’t mind if Gwendal and you married.”
“Eww…he’s even older than you! And has she even asked him?”
Eldara scowled. “Thank you very much, my dear sister. But, actually, you should give him some more thought. He’s a very good candidate. Being over forty means that he’s pretty much seen and done his share of fun and now he is ready to settle down. He knows what he wants from life and what to expect from it. He’s a man with experience so to speak.”
“Yes, with fixed habits and routines, some of which might involve leaving socks scattered all over the floor, farting at the dinner table, and going to a brothel on Sundays.”
“Language. You shouldn’t think you can change a younger man’s habits, either. I must warn you that it’s a faulty conviction.”
Halea rolled her head from one shoulder to another then massaged the back of her neck. The duke realized that she was tired as well. “Thanks for the warning,” she said. “But… Besides, he’s a Demon.”
The duke shrugged. “If you marry, you’ll live in Shin Makoku. They are very tolerant of Humans in the capital. There will be no one to point fingers at you and you’d create an important tie between the countries.”
“Yeah, right. And in case our countries decide to attack each other, I’d also be an important hostage.”
The duke sighed. “You have a point here. Alright, just do what you want.”
“I’d rather go for von Bielefeld. He’s younger and more handsome.”
“Thick as a brick as well.” The duke inspected the wine in his glass, sighing. “Hmm…” he hummed. “But, yes, this might be exactly what one wants in a husband.” He shrugged when his sister glared at him. “He would definitely be easier to bend to your will than von Voltaire. But I think you shouldn’t waste your time with von Bielefeld,” he said. “He doesn’t seem to be a ladies’ man.”
“He’s just heartbroken, the poor thing. He’ll come round soon enough.”
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
“Wh- Ohhh… Really?”
The duke shrugged. “I can’t be certain but it seems so.”
“He will still have to have children, you know.”
The duke gave her an annoyed look. “I really hope you’re kidding, Halea. I won’t allow you to marry just to…”
Chuckling, Halea patted her brother lightly on his arm. “Of course, I am kidding. I would never choose someone you don’t approve of. I value your opinion above all.”
The duke blinked slowly in surprise. “Well, that’s something I don’t hear every day.”
“That’s because I don’t say it every day.”
---
The rest of the evening was calm: people were dancing, some of them got drunk and caused a scene or two but nothing was out of the ordinary. Wolfram had thought about slipping out of the banquet earlier, but then he had found a pretty safe spot on a bench placed between bushes and a fountain from where he could not be easily detected and, since nobody disturbed him, he stayed. He listened to the music, to the voices and laughter and found it somehow soothing. The only drawback was mosquitoes.
At some point Wolfram realized that he wasn’t sitting alone anymore. He hadn’t even noticed how he had approached but now a man was sitting on the other end of the bench. Vaguely, Wolfram’s buzzed mind identified him as Duke-something. Duke-something saluted him with his glass after noticing his stare but otherwise didn’t disturb his solitude with any words. It seemed that Duke-something was also hiding from unwanted attention. When he looked at the other end of the bench twenty or so minutes later, Duke-something was nowhere to be seen. Shrugging, Wolfram finished another glass of wine and put it down onto the ground next to ten other empty ones.
Tbc
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