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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
- 7
- 8
- 9
Chapter Seven
Yuuri had not seen so many friends in one place in quite some time. Under the sparkle of chandelier light, weaving in and out of elegant halls with hanging tapestries, rooms of portraits and fine buffet tables, surrounded in the smells of roasted meats and uncorked wine, the king found many a face he could smile and wave at with recognition. He waved and spoke briefly with Hiscruyff and his daughter Beatrice, the little girl dressed in her party best, purple lace and lilac ribbon. He wished he’d have brought Greta with him, had thought about it but left her with Conrad instead. As much as she wanted to see Wolfram, Yuuri was unsure of her meeting Alfgeir until he'd had the pleasure and of doing so alone. Conrad had described him as similar to Yozak in build and strength with none of the delicacy. While Yuuri wouldn't have chosen 'delicate' as a word to describe the undercover solider, the picture it painted did not make Yuuri feel any more at ease. As he watched Gwendal's observant eyes scan the growing crowd, he felt the same unease was certainly shared.
Gwendal seemed as dressed for a funeral as he was for a party, grimace set as he stood awkwardly in his dark dress uniform. It had been a quiet trip, neither having much to say to the other past the older mazoku's initial surprise at his requested presence. Conrad at least seemed to have understood, perhaps was even in on Murata's keen scheme to patch things up between king and tactician. Yuuri didn't need his friend to point out the conflicted manner in which Gwendal observed the Shin Makoku-Trebic alliance; he'd been seated at meetings for months between his retainer and Sir Bersi Veleif who was chief among the diplomats who came regularly to call on their court. Gunter was proud of how involved Yuuri had become in political doctrine above his usual hands-on crusading and the devotion he put into learning his country's written language. Gwendal, at least, seemed to understand it on a more personal level: a necessity born from a lack of trust. Even seeing him outside the castle where he had no power, Yuuri still found himself keeping a close eye on the mazoku lord as though he might spot Wolfram in the crowd and fail to let him know. He felt a twinge of guilt for how far out of proportion he felt he was taking the initial betrayal. But Gwendal would never apologize so long as territories and countries responded in favor to the unlikely union, his concern solely vested in the future no matter the sacrifice in the present. He was a man born and raised in a climate of war and Yuuri could only hope his would be the last generation to learn to undervalue the importance of quality of life.
Yuuri sighed, looking down into his fluted glass of juice--he'd been too nervous about drinking anything stronger. "He's not here," he said, disappointment evident in his voice.
Gwendal crossed his heavy arms over his chest though the slight tremble to his hands did not go unnoticed. "I will see that someone is sent to the docks to inquire on their arrival."
"What if he doesn't come?
"Then you will have to wait a while longer to see him."
The king nodded, not at all pleased with his options. He watched Gwendal pull one of his soldiers aside, instructing him in low voices, before returning his attention to his own post as self appointed bodyguard. Gwendal had the demeanor for the position but none of the friendliness Conrad possessed in make the idling bits entertaining. It was like standing near a weight bearing column without the benefit of something to lean on.
"You seem nervous," a gentle voice said, bringing a smile to Yuuri's face as he turned to face his host. Lady Flynn smiled in return, looking elegant as ever in a long, pale blue gown edged with fur for the winter occasion.
Yuuri bowed slightly, having already dispensed with formal greetings when he and Gwendal had arrived. "Just anxious I guess. Everything looks wonderful, Flynn. Thank you again for inviting us."
"It's my pleasure. I'm glad to have the opportunity to have the demon king among us. You've become quite popular these past few months." She took his arm, pulling him to walk with her as she made her way to the buffet. "Are you doing well? I hear bits and pieces of news but nothing more than idle gossip it seems."
"We're fine. Busy helping with some boarder disputes, mostly in defense of Trebic but a couple other places have asked for assistance too against Big Cimarron advancements. I'm glad to hear Caloria has been able to go untroubled."
Flynn took a glass of white wine off a silver tray and guided Yuuri out towards the balcony. Gwendal was never far behind. "We're lucky in that King Lanzhil does not find us very threatening. If you need any help, Yuuri, we would be glad to assist you."
Yuuri gave her arm a squeeze. "Thank you, Flynn. People like you are the reason the world is going to be alright someday." He caught her blush and looked away, a little embarrassed himself. "We can handle the current numbers of requests but I really do appreciate it. It means a lot to me that there are still people in power willing to cooperate for the common good rather than to gain something in return."
"Are you talking about the Trebic alliance? I was very surprised to hear about that. It didn't sound like the Yuuri I know."
"Because it wasn't. Gwendal took that matter into his own hands while I was away." Yuuri was sure Gwendal could hear him and winced at his own bitterness. This had been one of Murata's worst ideas.
Flynn paused on the balcony, arm leaving the crook of Yuuri's elbow for the smooth polished stone of the rail. "That's a shame. You've behaved quite admirably in handling such a surprise. I had no idea you'd been removed from the decision's making. No wonder you are this excited to see Wolfram."
Yuuri nodded, looking just slightly over his shoulder, catching the breadth of Gwendal's right shoulder as it extended past the drapes. "Flynn, what do you know about Alfgeir Havard?"
"Not much. But," she pointed out towards the walk below with a slender, gloved arm. "If I'm not mistaken, he's probably the man walking beside Wolfram."
Yuuri froze, listening to the rustle of the drapes and Gwendal stepped behind him, hearing the creak of his leather gloves as his hands made buckled fists. Yuuri slowly moved forward, leaning over the rail to peer down at the unmistakable beauty and poise of his long awaited friend beside whom walked the stranger Yuuri had anticipated with near dread in meeting.
Wolfram was dressed in red, a bright shade like blood over which swirls of gold mingled like trade winds on a map. He looked good in red, Yuuri noticed, but felt somehow he still looked wrong in it. Wolfram's colors were blues in his memory, making it all the more obvious that this was no longer his Wolfram. The man beside him, undoubtedly Alfgeir, walked with his hand against Wolfram's back, fingers curled around and engulfing the blonde's right shoulder. He was as tall and broad as Conrad had said, dressed similarly to Wolfram in a darker shade of red with a long sash worn across his chest. He was bearded and red of hair as well, reminding Yuuri of a well dressed viking. It was hard to say if it was what he had been afraid of or even what he had been expecting. Regardless of which, approaching the entrance to Flynn's estate was one of Yuuri's best friends and the husband to which he'd been assigned.
Wolfram paused mid step and looked up towards the balcony, eyes meeting Yuuri's without even having to search. And without hesitation or thought, Yuuri turned and ran back into the bustling rooms of party goers, dodging waiters and guests alike as he tore through the rooms and halls towards the front doors where late arrivals trickled in from the brisk night air. He saw Wolfram as a red blur getting larger and larger until it and his blonde hair was all he could see, arms wrapped around him tight with his cheek pressed to his ear. He smelled of the sea and ginger root. He felt thinner but just as strong. In his arms, Wolfram was stiff and unresponsive, liking holding tight to a mannequin. In seconds he could feel him melt, though, feel his face lean closer to his, his hands fall to Yuuri's hips, a reserved return of his enthusiastic embrace. There was a roar of laughter as two large arms wrapped around them both, Yuuri's eyes shooting wide as he was squeezed harder against his friend and lifted up off the ground, breathe leaving him momentarily as he unwillingly became part of a Wolfram sandwich.
"Ga-ah! Alfie!" Wolfram gasped, kicking out with his leg and catching his husband in the knee.
Alfgeir continued to laugh but settled the two back on the ground, rustling Yuuri's hair with his heavy palm as the king took a step back from his friend.
Wolfram glared up at his husband, punching him in the chest with a blow that seemed to hardly phase the larger man. "Will you remember where we are? Don't you dare embarrass me."
"Sorry, my pet." Alfgeir chuckled, kissing Wolfram's head as his hand returned to his shoulder. "I just got excited too. This is him, is it not? The double black demon king of Shin Makoku, Yuuri Shibuya! I've been looking forward to this meeting for a very long time."
Yuuri nodded dumbly, not certain what to think. "Uh, yeah. Hi. Oh, come in. We were just--Flynn's upstairs but I'm sure she'll be coming down to greet you." His tongue felt swollen as words failed to come out in sensible ways. He put his hands in his pockets, feeling the sweat on his palms as he smiled at Wolfram and his contractual agreement. Nervous didn't begin to cover it.
As expected, Lady Flynn joined them shortly, smile showing amusement in Yuuri's sudden flight. Gwendal followed, less amused and more concerned, eyes no longer watching his king as the brothers stood in the same room. The formalities and greetings were a buzz of background noise to Yuuri as he watched the irritation in Wolfram's animated face turn to a calmness of subtly under his brother's gaze. Though he knew telepathy was out of the question, he felt as though he were intruding upon a private conversation as Wolfram's closed expression transformed into a feint, soft smile, eyes sad but in agreement with the turn of his lips. The stiffness of Gwendal's posture remained unchanged, even as he averted his eyes to a far off corner where nothing but personal demons danced.
Suddenly Flynn was excusing herself as Wolfram walked off towards Gwendal. Yuuri could feel himself nodding in reply to a question he hadn't actually heard, suddenly confused as the person he was most anxious to see was a a retreating form several steps out of reach. He couldn't follow, even though he took a step forward to do so; the pat on his back was so sudden and hard he nearly face-planted into the tile floor.
"Guess that leaves just you and me," laughed Alfgeir Havard.
Yuuri rubbed at his spine, wincing slightly as he stood. "I guess so... uh.. sorry about running in here and grabbing your.. Wolfram like that."
The large man put his hand to his back, pushing him to come with him towards tables set up along the outskirts of a dance floor. "Don't you worry about it! I'm sure he'll be gushing about it for the next couple years or so!"
Whatever he had expected, Alfgeir was not quite it.
They took at seat at a corner table, away from the live instruments and the click of heals. Alfgeir took several thin glasses of wine and set them down on the table, downing three in three gulps and keeping the rest in waiting. Yuuri sat with a new glass of juice, nerves making it hard to hold it still let alone bring it to his lips. While meeting the Trebic prince had been his plan, being left alone with him had not really been part of it.
Alfgeir smiled with a wide mouth and hidden lips. "It was very kind of you to bring that man with you," he said. "Wolfy's been worried about him."
Yuuri paled slightly. He called him Wolfy? "Ah... I'm glad I did, then. You, uh... was the trip.. okay?"
"Splendid! Not every royal vessel gets escorted to Caloria by a small Shin Makoku regiment. That man would let no excuse come between us and this meeting. I'm very thankful."
"I'm glad." Yuuri slowly drank from his juice, looking with his eyes for a sign of Gwendal and Wolfram but finding none. Gwendal's guards were still all around, keeping him protected in his absence. Though he couldn't describe the feeling he got in the prince's presence, threatened wasn't quite it. "And has Wolfram been well?"
"He's sick of the heart but his flesh is perfection. Time will mend, I'm sure." Alfgeir chuckled. "Seeing you again has already rekindled a bit of that old spark in him; the power of love as they say."
Yuuri cleared his throat uncomfortably. "It's not really like that."
"Oh, no; it is. Whether you admit it or like it or not. That's the thing about love: it doesn't have to go both ways to be real." He winked at Yuuri, eyes bright and cheeks rosy. He looked twice Wolfram's age even if by years he could only be as much as half. "Don't worry. I'm not the jealous sort. As long as he's faithful to me and upholds his vows, he can love whomever he likes."
"Do you love him?"
Alfgeir's laugh was like a booming clock's tick. "No more than he does me."
The amusement he found in the situation was not shared. Yuuri clenched his fists under the table, throat dry but unable to drink. He'd felt no such disgust when he'd read that Wolfram did not think he would ever love Alfgeir; it made sense somehow and was to be expected. That the prince would feel the same, that neither felt anything, made a mistake seem more like a tragedy. "So what exactly is Wolfram to you, then?" he asked.
"My husband." Alfgeir raised another glass of wine. "He's my confidant in the mornings and a warm body at night. He's my partner in triumph and defeat, a companion who will be at my side no matter what. In short, he is everything a man needs to get out of bed in the morning and everything he looks forward to when the day is at its end. He's my friend, Your Majesty, and I should thank you for loaning him to me."
"Loaning him? Just what-"
"Shhh. Don't take offense. I'm sincerely grateful to you. For my kingdom and myself, I thank you." He clinked his glass against Yuuri's stationary flute of juice and downed it like the others.
Yuuri was not quite sure what was going on. As Alfgeir drank, he caught sight of the red dressed mazoku, Wolfram finding them at much the same time and sliding through the crowd to meet them. He took a seat at the table between the two, Alfgeir pulling his chair closer despite earning a warning green-eyed glare. Yuuri relaxed, eased by his presence. Regardless of events, he was still quite obviously Wolfram.
"Where's Gwendal?"
"He had to see to something. I told him I would watch over you," Wolfram said, pushing Alfgeir's empty glasses aside.
Yuuri wished it was just the two of them. "Well, I know I'm in good hands."
The music in the room swelled and rose to a crescendo as dancer's spun in dizzy circles.
"Honestly, my big brother has enough to deal with without having to be made to watch you. Next time bring Conrad. He actually enjoys this stuff."
"And Greta. Next time. I promise."
Wolfram smiled softly, turning his nose up indignantly though his face lacked the proper attitude to be convincing. "You had better, wimp. I won't tolerate a king's broken promises."
- 7
- 8
- 9
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A Marriage of State