There was a long period in my life during which I hated Conrad that I am not proud of, and even if I'll never tell any of them, I regret.

There are times now, since I decided maybe hating him for no reason isn't an intelligent idea, that I understand why I have so very many trust issues with that man.

Note to self: when given differing information about a house by Josak and my younger older brother, don't trust my brother.

Yuuri had gone home for his school exams, and was due back, so both my brothers and I went to pick him up.

Wimp wanted to get to work right away, so we were meeting him by this tiny lake on the borders of Caloria. The lake is actually more like a large pond, and it's deep in the middle of a near-impenetrable forest. Big brother was being paranoid again, deciding that anywhere else was too dangerous.

So we hike up in our nicest formal clothes for a meeting later with some ambassador somewhere, very little supplies and no accompanying soldiers. It was difficult to trek into the forest, and we wanted the trail to be as unnoticeable as possible, so we could use it again if we had to.

Josak had told Conrad that there was a shack there that he uses when he's in between jobs. He told Conrad that it was basically a broken-down tin roof with four delicately-rotting wooden walls. I know this because I overheard the maids talking seconds before we rode off.

Conrad told us that it was a lovely little cottage with a lake view, and Josak loved spending time there.

So now I'm writing this in a little corner of the shack, and I'm going to keep a really, really detailed note of all the things I've had to go through today, for ammunition against Conrad when I need him to do something.

By the time we had made it through the dense thicket, we were soaking wet from the sudden, short drizzle. Conrad was twitching trying to keep his smile on, I couldn't stop growling because I couldn't warm myself by magic, and Gwendal was sniffling.

I swear big brother died for a short while before coming back to life when we saw this dilapidated hut. He was coughing terribly by then, and I knew he'd caught a cold. Even if brother looks like he'd win in a fight against sixteen sandbears, he catches colds really easily. Something about being not warm, even for a short while, leaves him bedridden.

Conrad didn't open his eyes after he blinked, and I can't blame him. I'd have blasted him if we'd made eye contact.

All I could do was sigh and drag both brothers into whatever shelter the roof could provide. There was a bed with decent quilts in one of the only dry spots in the shack, and I made big brother take off his jacket and traveling pants and snuggle under the blankets. He's still there, and I piled on all our extra clothes from our packs that were dry around him to make a cocoon of warmth.

Josak had some spare outfits, and Conrad is sitting next to big brother huddled up in a very frilly, heavy white dress. His smile is really strained now, and I almost feel sorry for him. We're here early, several hours before Yuuri is expected to come.

Me? My dried jacket is keeping Conrad's legs warm, I've rolled up my shirtsleeves, and I'm in a pink apron.

A VERY pink apron.

All of us were tired and miserable when we came in, and I knew hot food would make us all feel better, especially red-faced big brother.

So I rummaged around and found this pink abomination, and I have to wear it because my only other white shirt is being used to dry Gwendal's hair to make sure he doesn't get any worse. I can't afford to get this shirt dirty.

I found cinder blocks outside that I dragged in, and I managed to light a few of Josak's more flammable outfits after the 12th match. There was a small tin washbasin on the table next to the bed, and I had it balanced haphazardly on the burning clothes and cinder blocks. I'm not known for my skills in the kitchen, big brother usually helping me when I make breakfast for mother or for any other occasion. So I did what any soldier knows in his heart how to do.

I tossed in half of our supply of dried meat and whatever vegetables I could scrounge, and emptied three-quarters of a bottle of wine into it. The wine was meant for the man we were to meet, but I don't think anyone will miss it now.

It simmered and I added whatever odd pieces of cloth that weren't being used to warm us to keep the fire burning. The tiny fire gave out a bit of heat too.

When it had reduced to a thick, awkward-coloured broth, I wet my cravat and took it off the fire. I made big brother sit up, and Shinou, he was an awful sight. His eyes were teary and unfocused, and he couldn't stop sniffling. At least he'd gotten dry. I made him swallow half of the soup, and he got colour back into his face.

At least, a colour that wasn't red.

He fell asleep after that, and he's asleep now. I ate some, and the rest was accepted by a smugly-grinning Conrad.

I know he wasn't grinning at me in an apron, because that would mean he has a death wish.

Conrad's looking after big brother now, and he said his temperature's only slightly higher than normal. Conrad's opinion, while useless when it comes to not being weirdly idyllic about living quarters, is invaluable. He looked after me often enough when I was too young to look after myself.

So that's how the day's gone, and at least no one's died. We're still waiting for Yuuri, and after I've finished writing I'm going to sit next to Conrad. Sharing body warmth and what-not. Gwendal's feeling better, Conrad will remain well until we get home and I scream the stuffing out of him, and luckily I didn't fall ill too.

Which is really amazing, because usually I react even worse to being cold than big brother does.

I can't wait to get under warm blankets, have a roaring fire by my feet, and eat something that doesn't taste like socks.

On the whole, I'm certain I did myself proud, though. It's a story worth telling to my daughter, how I very dashingly rescued my older brothers from death by ingenious use of a washbasin.

Oh, I think big brother is waking up.

He'll regret being one of the causes for me to dress in Josak's clothing too.

Wolfram Von Bielefeld.