The second and final chapter to this fic (which was originally going to be a shortish one-shot, and spun out a lot longer than I anticipated). Hope you all enjoy and are satisfied with the ending.

It seems like it's been a little quiet on the ConYuu front lately - but remember: you write it, I'll definitely read it! Thank you all for taking the time to read and review my work - I always appreciate it.

Noise. Yuuri’s ears did not hear it exactly – neither his ears nor his eyes seemed to be working well – but his mind slowly began to register that something was going on. Something loud. Someone must be here to take him away. Soldiers from Dai Shimaron, then. Or even the king himself? Did it matter? Would he be given water? Would he die before he was?

It took a moment for Yuuri to realize that his eyes were already open. He blinked, but the dark haze in front of him did not clear; even shifting his head didn’t make any difference. He was not blind, but neither could he make out anything of significance. And although he knew there was hard ground beneath him – could make out the cold coarseness of the dirt if he moved his fingers back and forth a little –he somehow felt as if he were floating, like the earth – or perhaps it was his body – had no real substance to it.

More noises. Above him, shouting. People giving orders? The clash of steel. It reminded him of swords, but he didn’t think it plausible that anyone was fighting. Who was there to fight? Perhaps there were other prisons and gates like his own, and that was what he was hearing now. For all he knew, there could be a whole host of demon or half-blood prisoners being kept here, all to be sold off to the highest bidder.

The floor shook. Or he shook. No, it was the floor after all. More yelling, feet stamping in sturdy leather boots. A scream. Were they torturing other prisoners – the ones not so lucky to be worth as much as he was? He did not know if he would have had the strength to bear torture, and felt guiltily relieved that he had not been tested this way.

A thud, yet more yelling, sounds of crashing filtering down from somewhere above. Well, he supposed humans fought each other just as often as humans and demons did. But he wouldn’t make it easy for them, when they came from him. Yuuri groped out for the knife, finding it by touch, and then inched as close to the wall as he could get, rigidly coiling himself into the tightest ball he could possible manage and ignoring the pain that resulted from the movement in his side. He knew he had precious little power, magical or otherwise, with which to defend or fight with. But that didn’t mean he’d just roll over and let them take him. He would do whatever he could to stop them. And he wouldn’t-

Voices, closer this time, interrupted his thoughts. They scattered; he couldn’t hold onto them. Running. He thought he heard his name, but knew he must have misheard, because nobody here would ever call him by his name. Or by his title. And yet… and yet… He gripped the knife, hard. For what, he wasn’t sure – he certainly couldn’t fend anyone off with it if it came to that. But it was all he had, so he held on to the hilt as if his life depended on it.

Another scream. He didn’t turn his head this time – he had no strength to – but he kept his eyes obstinately open. And even if his ears were deceiving him, surely it would be better to die with the voices of those he knew and loved in his mind.

Head pressed to the floor in his effort to stay put, he felt the vibrations of more footsteps. He wanted to close his eyes so as not to see the faces of those who would now be his new keepers, but at the last moment, he decided to leave them open for as long as he could. Even if it was staring straight ahead, not looking at them at all as they came for him, he would not let them think they had won against him. Conrad had gone down fighting. The least Yuuri could do was the same…

He shouldn’t have thought of Conrad. It was a torture in its own biting way, now hearing the voice of the soldier in his head which the thought had no doubt invoked. Calling his name with a terrible urgency. It hurt.

The gate burst open.

A gasp, quickly followed by another. Yuuri didn’t move. He wasn’t sure he could if he wanted to.

“Heika!”

“Bocchan!”

Two voices sounding collectively in his head. Had they killed even Josak, that Yuuri could hear his voice in his head now? He refused to budge, refused to even think.

“Heika! Yuuri, can you hear me?”

He thought he was being lightly shaken, but it was difficult to tell.

“He’s freezing-“

“Stay with him, I’m finding something warm-“

“Don’t let anyone else down here! Wolfram especially. He doesn’t need to see this.”

Yuuri flinched. Wolfram too… how many of his friends had they killed? How many lives had he failed to protect this time?

“Yuuri? It’s just me, don’t be afraid- you can let go of the knife now…”

But he was afraid. Terrified of what he had caused. Ghost hands rolled him over. Yuuri stared into nothing and tightened his grip on the knife, refusing to be tricked into giving it up.

“They’re coming, I can’t stop them. We need to get him out of here, right now.”

He hadn’t heard Josak come back. But then, Josak wasn’t really there, so that only made sense.

“I think some of his ribs are cracked.”

Something soft cocooning his body.

“I know. But it can’t be helped, we need to pick him up and run for it, before-“

“YUURI!”

He knew he shouldn’t be glad to hear Wolfram’s voice, because it only confirmed the worst, but Yuuri was at least thankful that Wolfram shouldn’t see him like this, or the cell he had been kept in. It would have been too much, letting any of them see what they had done to him. Shame crept over him at the thought. But he could imagine so vividly Wolfram putting a hand to his mouth, eyes wide, speechlessly shaking his head in denial of what he saw – so vivid that it was as if Yuuri saw it happening, right there in front of him. He blinked. The image, blurred as it was, did not recede from his vision. For a moment he thought he saw Gwendal, too, looking quite terrifying, face whitened with shock and fury.

“Unforgivable”, he whispered, shoulders shaking with barely suppressed rage.

But then… it could not be…

No. He wouldn’t deceive himself like this. He was seeing things and hearing things, he wouldn’t let himself be tricked by his own traitorous thoughts-

“Yuuri? I have to lift you up now. Do you understand?”

Josak spoke softly, intending only Conrad to hear. “He can’t hear you. Look at his eyes.”

“No. He hears me.”

Conrad spoke just as quietly, but in the firm voice that Yuuri knew would allow no argument. If Conrad was really there, that was. Because he wasn’t. He could not be. God, if he couldn’t make his own mind accept that Conrad wasn’t actually there, then he was a bigger coward than everyone thought he was-

Then the floor was no longer beneath him.

It was a far greater shock than Yuuri had anticipated. He let out an anguished gasp before he could stop himself, almost a sob, and clung on to the first thing he came into contact with. And it felt so warm and real in his grip – ten times more real than the ground he had felt only a second ago – that Yuuri’s eyes cleared almost fully, just for an instant, as the world sprung into one more brief spurt of life around him. He couldn’t see Conrad’s face, but his eyes were drawn to a small patch of skin right in front of his eyes, just visible through the tear in Conrad’s jacket.

“Conrad…”

There was an instant, resounding silence, for all Yuuri’s voice came out barely over a sigh.

“Yuuri-!”

Numerous voices, all at once, telling him not to speak, save his strength, they were getting him out of here- But he needed to speak.

“He told me you were dead”, he managed after an effort. Then it was all he could do to hold on to Conrad just as tightly as he could as the world began to darken again. But Conrad’s voice was loud enough for Yuuri, and maybe only Yuuri, to hear him.

“I told you once before, remember? I’d never die.”

Yuuri couldn’t feel his hand as he unclenched it, letting the knife drop to the floor. He fell himself, then, backwards into the black, with Conrad’s voice following him there.

Hold on, Yuuri!

*

Yuuri did hold on, as best as he was able. He was nothing if not stubborn, as people were so fond of telling him. He probably didn’t hold on particularly well – the confused impressions, none of which made much sense, were a testament to that – but he tried. Disorienting images, sounds and smells came and went, swimming throughout his senses: swords, blood, horses, smoke, burning, blankets, voices, water – all in no real order that Yuuri could discern. He became aware, once, of leaning against Conrad as they rode double on a horse, the ground speeding away beneath him. Even this brief glimpse made Yuuri’s head spin, and he swayed a little in the saddle. Conrad said something that Yuuri didn’t catch – all he heard was a quiet murmuring in his ear – but then, it didn’t seem to really matter what was being said, as long as Conrad was the one who said it. Yuuri allowed himself to lean back further into Conrad’s chest as arms tightened in front of him, slipping again into a numbed nothingness.

But at some point there was proper, lying-down rest, and someone very gently holding his head up, and a lukewarm liquid poured down his throat which Yuuri at first could not bring himself to swallow, but which eased his pain a little as soon as he was coaxed out of the defensive ball that he didn’t recall ever going into.

He couldn’t stop himself from wincing though, even after whatever drink he had been given this time, when a warm, wet cloth passed over his body, bit by bit, although he admittedly felt better for it afterwards. Although his eyes stayed closed, he knew it was Conrad, because he had managed to catch a snippet of conversation involving Wolfram being more or less ordered to stay out of the room. Even so, it was humiliating. While Yuuri knew that Conrad would not wrinkle his nose or comment even once about the small basin of water growing gradually darker and darker as the filth was sponged from Yuuri’s body, he wished Conrad did not have to see him like this. Conrad must have sensed something of what Yuuri felt, because he began to talk to Yuuri in a low voice as he worked – about home, about Greta, about the village they were in and the people who lived there… Yuuri faded in and out of consciousness, lulled to sleep by the combination of the medicine and Conrad’s voice.

And at last, the slight weight of a necklace fastened about his neck. He dreamed properly again and saw Julia, who somehow enfolded him into a full-bodied embrace him without hurting him, and kissed him on once on each side of his face, whispering something that Yuuri forgot as soon as the dream ended. But then, Yuuri could not quite seem to distinguish between what he dreamed and what was really happening anyway.

“Is she alright? The girl who looks like Greta?”

Conrad wasn’t sure if Yuuri was lucid, but hastened to answer anyway, his voice reassuring.

“She’s fine. In fact, we’re staying in her house right now. She wanted me to tell you that her room is yours for as long as you want it.”

Yuuri didn’t answer, but only sank deeper into the pillows.

*

At some point he was made to eat. Or perhaps eat was the wrong word, since most of what Yuuri remembered ingesting was liquids – although it hurt to swallow nonetheless. Still, in the disjointed times between sleeping and waking, Conrad or someone else made him drink. Never too much at once, or in too big a mouthfuls, but always soon after he woke – Yuuri supposed this was because he could never manage to stay awake for very long; usually only minutes at a time. Sometimes the transition between wake and sleep happened too quickly for Yuuri to even realize before it was too late. But his body craved rest, and then more rest. He dutifully ate whenever Conrad told him to, although strangely enough, Yuuri never really felt hungry.

Numerous times, Yuuri dreamed that he was back in his cell, the walls closing in on him, but also closing off the air little by little as the walls moved towards him, until he could hear only his heart thundering in his ears and smell only the foulness of his own stench. Then he would sit bolt upright in bed, gasping at the suddenness of the pain ruthlessly stabbing up one side and in his gut, and would sometimes have to retch while Conrad – and more than once, to his initial surprise, Gwendal – held him, until Yuuri had stopped shaking quite so violently and felt safe enough to lie down again. He didn’t speak during these times, and, taking their cue from him, Conrad and Gwendal likewise held their quiet. Yuuri was afraid that Wolfram would witness these times too, until he heard Conrad mention that Gunter had been convinced to ride back to the castle, and Wolfram with him.

“We thought it best not to travel further until you’re feeling a little better”, Conrad said.

Yuuri was grateful. Someone had to let Greta know that he was alright, after all. And Gwendal, who had once made Yuuri nervous with his frowns and forbidding silences, was now a very capable and reassuring figure, who seemed to be content working wordlessly beside Conrad in building back up Yuuri’s strength. The two brothers seemed to make a good team.

Time slipped by. Between so much constant sleeping and waking, Yuuri couldn’t tell how much time, and was not usually lucid enough, or else simply too exhausted, to ask. While in reality it had been only three days, time for Yuuri did not seem disjointed so much as it was either endless, or simply non-existent.

*

On the third night, he awoke and needed air with a desperate force that shook him. Another dream, he told himself – not real, not real. But his lungs told him differently, and he knew he had to be outside, where he could feel the air rather than lay there, helplessly struggling for oxygen with every aching breath. And he had to get outside before anyone saw him, because if they did see him they would catch him, and put him back in his cell, and make him-

Yuuri did not think. He simply acted, instinct driving him to slide out of the bed. His legs would not support him at first, and he clung onto the edge of the bed while they trembled weakly underneath him. He forced them into life anyway, biting his tongue against the outbursts of pain that were trapped deep within his chest.

And then he was walking, almost tripping several times in his haste to leave the room, forcing himself to pace himself and keep quiet lest he attract attention from somebody, anybody who might be lurking just around that corner there, waiting for him to pass so that they could make him think he was almost safe before grabbing him-

He was almost sobbing now, straining to keep his breathing quiet by putting his hand over his mouth to stifle the noises that seemed so loud in his ears, the other hand on the wall to help support him as he fled as fast as he dared. The hallway seemed endless, and scared him the most because of all the shadows that clung to the corners and end of it – shadows that could be hiding anything within them, anything at all. And he wasn’t sure of the way outside, because he had never seen this place before, had never escaped to get this far. He crept past closed doors, keeping an ear out for any noises beyond his own labored breathing.

The final door between him and what he hoped was freedom was only feet away now. Yuuri placed one foot forward, and then another. Just one more step- just one more step, and he would be right in front of the door. If it should open now- if there was someone just behind that door, ready to take him back-

He closed his eyes and slid one more tremulous foot forwards. And froze. There was no question; someone was there in that room, and although no light filtered beneath the door, Yuuri knew with an awful certainty that whoever was there was not sleeping like the others. Caught between throwing caution to the winds and simply running, or else to stay very still, as still as humanely possible until whoever it was had stopped moving about in there, Yuuri waited, his mind in a blind flurry of panic. No, no – he couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe-

His legs abruptly gave way. Yuuri fell to the floor with a thud, and was unable to hold in the sharp whimper of pain.

Footsteps from behind the door. Yuuri backed up against the wall, watching the door open in a kind of petrified trance before he could bear it no longer, and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable.

*

Conrad was awake and pacing in what was a so far fruitless attempt to still his mind a little for sleep when he heard the muffled thump, and then the strangled cry that accompanied it. He strode to the door and opened it with a jerk, reminding himself to remain calm as he gazed down at Yuuri, who, judging by his body language, was evidently not thinking coherently.

Conrad’s first instinct was to rush over and endeavor to comfort the obviously frightened Yuuri. He held back, however, making himself think about the situation before he acted. If Yuuri wasn’t quite aware of where he was and what was happening, it might well be better to approach him slowly, give him time to adjust to his surroundings, let him know that it was Conrad and that nothing would harm him…

“Yuuri…?”

Yuuri looked up at his name – a good sign, thought Conrad, although the nervous, unfocused look in Yuuri’s stare and the way in which his body was still tensed, as if to try and flee at any moment, was plain to see. Conrad crouched so that he could be level with Yuuri, and cautiously reached out a hand, making sure to move slowly so that Yuuri could see his every move, and not become yet more afraid from any sudden movement.

Yuuri gazed warily at the approaching hand – not flinching away from it as it came gradually nearer, but neither blinking nor taking his eyes from it.

“Don’t be afraid, it’s just me…”

Conrad’s voice was soft and low-pitched. He wasn’t sure if it was this that bought Yuuri back to his senses, or if Yuuri had simply woken up and was now thinking more rationally rather than purely out of fear. But either way, his eyes widened as if surprised, and he blinked a little confusedly as Conrad rested a hand on his shoulder.

“… Conrad? Where…?”

“You were just dreaming, Yuuri. You’re back in the human village, remember? With Gwendal and I.”

Yuuri put a hand to the side of his head, trying to put together the dissipating images in his mind and connect them with what he saw and felt now.

“I think… I think I was trying to get somewhere… but I can’t remember…”

“That’s alright. I think I know.”

“You do?”

Conrad smiled in answer and stood, still slowly, to walk over to the door leading outside and pull it open. One glance back at Yuuri confirmed his idea; Yuuri had lifted his head further and closed his eyes appreciatively as a slight gust of wind brushed past him, bringing with it the clean smell of freshly dampened earth and cool night air.

“Shall we go?”

Conrad bent down to help Yuuri to his feet. For a moment, Yuuri’s eyes reflected something akin to what they had before – not fear, exactly, as much as apprehension, and he hesitated slightly. But that look disappeared as quickly as it had come when Yuuri closed his fingers around Conrad’s hand. Relief flashed briefly across his face as Conrad pulled him securely up. He did not question, but only made sure to support Yuuri by putting his other hand around Yuuri’s waist as they made their way, Yuuri surprisingly not too unsteady on his feet, out the door.

There was a small wooden porch on which to sit, although they were still completely open to the elements. It was a relatively warm night, but Conrad, noting the small shiver that made its way down Yuuri’s back, did not want to take chances.

“Just a moment, Yuuri.” He ensured that Yuuri was seated comfortably before walking quickly back into his room, stripping the bed there of its blankets.

Back outside, Yuuri had visibly relaxed, and had tilted his head up towards the sky, letting the air tease through his hair. He looked back as Conrad approached, however, and gave him a tired but satisfied smile. Conrad could have sworn he literally felt his heart leap in answer; the first smile he had seen on Yuuri’s face since bringing him back. He wanted above all at that moment to do whatever he could to protect that smile, and to ensure that nobody ever took it away from either of them again.

He wondered if any of this would show on his own face as he arranged the blankets about Yuuri, and positioned himself so that his own back was supported by the outside wall, while Yuuri sat in front and a little beside Conrad, leaning on him as he closed his eyes.

“I don’t want to go back inside tonight”, he said, not quite asleep.

“That’s alright. I’ll keep you company out here tonight instead. The fresh air feels good, doesn’t it?”

Yuuri didn’t answer. Conrad didn’t expect him to.

Gwendal found them there in the morning, hair disheveled and a slightly wild look in his eyes that vanished along with the shout of alarm at finding Yuuri no longer in his bedroom.

“Conrart-! Is he…”

“He’s fine. Sleeping.”

Gwendal looked carefully at them both, noting almost immediately how much more peaceful Yuuri looked, the comfortably slow depth of his breathing, and the already healthier colour that had sprung into Yuuri’s cheeks. He wasn’t about to mention that Conrad himself looked better than he had for days, too.

“Good”, he said gruffly, and although he didn’t quite smile, there was a definite lessening of the frown of tension that marked his forehead.

*

Yuuri recovered more quickly after this. Although he still sometimes awoke with a jolt from a sleep which was not deep enough to be as restive as it should have been, he had nonetheless gained a lucidity of mind which meant that he came back to himself far more swiftly after these episodes, and no longer tried to battle against the tides of sleep that claimed him again afterwards. He managed to sleep for longer periods of time, too, and consequently was able to stay awake for more extended periods, and eat a little more each time he did. Conrad, despite having the sort of emotional self-control that was for the most part unparalleled by anyone in Shin Makoku, was sure his relief was palpable as he saw Yuuri’s stomach now deal with solid foods again; he shared his relief with Gwendal at Yuuri’s body no longer rejecting the nourishment it was given.

Neither Conrad nor Gwendal commented when Yuuri quietly asked if it would be alright to spend another night out of doors.

*

A scant two days later, Yuuri voiced the question of finishing the journey back home. If he was now fit enough to walk mostly unaided, he pointed out, then he should be fit enough to sit astride a horse for a day.

“A full day”, Gwendal said, voice flat.

“We can stop and rest if we need to, can’t we?”

Gwendal looked at Conrad, who shrugged slightly.

“If it is His Majesty’s wish…”

“It is”, said Yuuri. “I’m sure I can manage now. And… and I want to see my daughter. Greta should not have had to wait so long.”

Gwendal pinched the bridge of his nose, frowning as he thought. It would take time for Yuuri to fully recover, of course; a process that would likely take weeks to fully occur. But Yuuri did look stronger, there was no doubt about that, and you certainly could not fault the boy for not taking responsibility for his familial duties-

“Alright. As you insist. But you will ride double with Conrad. I’ll lead the third horse that has been left with us behind mine.”

It would be their last evening staying as guests in the house. Yuuri had seen the girl who reminded him so much of Greta twice, and had assured her parents that he didn’t mind her visiting, although Gwendal had at first been opposed to the idea after Yuuri mentioned it, arguing that Yuuri should be conserving his strength. Even Gwendal could not resist her charms, however; Hana, whom Yuuri had allowed himself to be given up for, was a year younger than Greta and quite obviously smitten by Yuuri. Unaccountably shy at first, she now liked to sit at Yuuri’s bedside and quiz him on all the things he liked: his favourite colour, his favourite food, what his daughter was like. Conrad tried not to look too amused at Gwendal’s unmistakable weakness for the earnest, round-eyed child.

It was a bright day the next morning, and Yuuri expressed his gratitude and waved his goodbyes to those that saw him off – most of the villagers, in fact, had wanted to be present as he left, and to personally wish him a safe journey. Conrad saw Yuuri blink back a few tears at the sight, no doubt moved by the sincerity that the villagers showed to a Maou that they had met only once. Perhaps he was also aware that, prior to this, the solely human-occupied community had not been so welcoming of demonkind.

*

It was as well that Yuuri had agreed so readily to ride double. Twice he fell asleep at the saddle, although it was plain that he did not want Conrad or Gwendal to have noticed. They stopped once on the way, at both Conrad and Gwendal’s insistence, ostensibly to rest the horses, but chiefly to make sure that Yuuri ate, and was handling the strain of travel without too much trouble. Still, Gwendal was forced to admit, Yuuri appeared to be holding up very well, and it was obvious that Yuuri was eager to arrive back home.

The castle was in sight by the early evening. They had made good time, considering the sedate pace that Conrad had set for them. Yuuri surprised them both a little by asking if he could change horses and ride by himself back through the city boundaries. He didn’t say why, but Conrad was sure he wanted to appear as healthy as possible, particularly when it came to first seeing Greta. He saw Gwendal nod approvingly as they moved to prepare the third horse, although he also marked how Gwendal made certain to keep close to Yuuri’s side as they set off again – just in case. Conrad, observing the determined look on Yuuri’s face and the firm set of his jaw, was satisfied that Yuuri would not need a last-minute rescue from falling off his horse.

Someone had seen them approach, and a greeting party was waiting for them as they crested the hill. Wolfram, unsuccessfully trying to cover his look of worry with annoyance, stood beside Gunter, who was trembling as he restrained himself – quite admirably, under the circumstances, Conrad thought – from launching himself at Yuuri and embracing him full force. Lady Celi was there, holding Greta’s hand tightly and also, for Greta’s sake, trying to not show her full extent of her concern. The three head maids were also in attendance, and looked just as reassured as anybody else to see Yuuri looking, if not as healthy as they would have liked, then at least well enough to be riding without assistance. Yuuri’s choice to switch horses had been a good one.

He slid off the saddle and almost tripped but recovered quickly, righting himself almost at once.

“Yuuri…?”

Greta’s voice was wobbly and a little hesitant, unsure whether she was allowed to run forward and hug her father. Yuuri decided for her, breaking into a wide smile and crouching down as Celi let go of her hand. She rushed forwards, nearly crying in her relief.

“Yuuri! They said you got hurt! And you were away for so long, I didn’t know if you were okay! They couldn’t say when you’d be able to come back-“

Yuuri held her firmly. “I know, and I’m sorry for making you worry so much. I’m alright though, see? I’m only a little tired now, and not really hurt at all…” He rubbed her back and smoothed her hair with his hand, hoping the others would go by his example.

Sure enough, Celi beamed down at Greta. “There now, what did I tell you? Your father’s just fine, and after all, he had Gwendal and Conrad to take care of him while he was away.”

Greta stepped back, sniffling a little. “Don’t go away again soon, okay Yuuri?”

“I won’t. It’s a promise, right?” Yuuri hooked his pinkie finger around Greta’s, finally making her smile.

He made sure to approach Wolfram next, who immediately pulled him forward, looking him up and down intently as he did so.

“Wolfram, no need to look so worried-“

“Who’s worried? I wasn’t worried at all! You should just be more careful next time, and learn not to be so reckless whenever-“

Yuuri cut him off, hugging Wolfram too, who briefly turned an interesting shade of pink. He buried his head against Yuuri’s shoulder for a moment. “Wimp”, he said, voice muffled. “Don’t worry our daughter like that ever again.”

Yuuri hugged Gunter as well, causing spasms of delight to shudder through the taller man’s white-clad form. “Oh Heika! Oh, I’m so relieved, but of course I knew you would come back to us safely, of course I did, but I couldn’t keep myself from worrying so much, please forgive my faithlessness, Heika-“

“Gunter… it’s fine, really”, Yuuri managed from against Gunter’s chest, hoping he wouldn’t get the same treatment from Lady Celi. “I’m alright now, honestly, there’s really no need-“ He was cut off again as Gunter let forth a wail of joy at Yuuri’s return.

Celi surprised him by hugging Yuuri relatively calmly, her hands gripping both of his own. “Yuuri-heika… I’m so glad you’re safe!” Her hands tightened as she spoke more quietly. “By how Wolfram reacted, I wasn’t sure if…”

Yuuri smiled at her. “I’m alright now. I didn’t mean to make anybody worry.” But perhaps his surprise at the intensity with which she had spoken showed on his face, because her hands contracted involuntarily around his once more. “I know what it is for a mother to worry about a son”, she said simply. Her eyes met Gwendal’s and Conrad’s over Yuuri’s shoulder, and he knew that she was not only talking about him.

In the end, it was a much cheerier crowd that entered the main doors through to the castle, although Gunter had spotted Yuuri wilting slightly, and had taken it upon himself to ensure that Yuuri went straight to rest. But Yuuri dawdled slightly, waiting for the others to go in ahead of him, a hint of unsurety reminding him unconsciously of a more unpleasant entrance.

Conrad understood. “I’ll make sure your windows are left open”, he said softly, so that nobody else except perhaps Gwendal, bringing up the procession behind them, could hear.

Yuuri nodded his thanks, looking up at the stone carvings marking the way into the castle.

“I’m home”, he said under his breath to himself, and felt something hard finally begin to melt away in his chest.

Conrad answered him anyway.

“Welcome home, Yuuri.”