CHAPTER TWO

“Stop running away from me!”

Wolfram’s voice echoed in the empty hallway, empty but for him and Yuuri. He was presently chasing after his fiancé, who, ever since that morning, had obviously been avoiding him. He’s hiding something from me, thought Wolfram, and said thought was literally getting on his nerves.

“What made you think I was running away from you?” Yuuri lied. It was a lie, after all, since he was running away from Wolfram. His conversation with Conrad earlier that morning made it clear that he must stay away from the blond, else he ended up doing something that was, for him, morally wrong. At present, that is.

He made a sharp turn into another hallway and hastened his pace, determined to escape. From the far side of the hallway, however, a door swung open and Gunter appeared.

“Ah, Gunter!” Yuuri called, actually pleased to see Gunter. The last he saw of the latter was when he was unconscious and sprawled over the dining room floor, and somehow, he had a vague memory of having stepped on him…

It was apparent that Gunter beamed at the sound of Yuuri’s voice, much more at the sight of him. “Heika,” said Gunter, tears suddenly pouring from his eyes. “I thought I would never see you again!” He caught Yuuri as the boy came near him and locked him in a tight embrace. “I feel so ashamed of what had happened this morning, but the shame cannot compare to the worry I felt for you, my Majesty,” he bawled, unaware that his Majesty was already suffocating in his embrace.

“Let go of him, Gunter!” Wolfram finally reached them and angrily snatched Yuuri away, the latter gasping for breath. “And what do you mean by my Majesty?” The blond snapped, jealousy written all over his face.

“Wolfram,” said the king’s advisor with a sudden seriousness in his voice. “Such immaturity displayed in front of His Majesty is very inappropriate. As one of the king’s subjects, you should be well aware of that.”

“I’m not just his subject, I’m his fiancé!”

“And as his fiancé, you are acting quite foolishly, might I add. Perhaps this is why His Majesty does not consider your engagement seriously.”

It was as if a sudden, sharp bolt of electricity coursed through Wolfram’s consciousness at this statement from Gunter. He had heard of it several times before, yet at that moment, peculiarly, it affected him greatly. “W-What did you say?” His cheeks flushed from embarrassment, Wolfram tried to regain his anger. His voice quivered slightly as he spoke, but he was not about to show weakness. “Yuuri’s my fiancé so I can do what I want with him! And—Yuuri!” Wolfram exclaimed, surprised by Yuuri’s sudden appearance behind Gunter.

Chuckling nervously, the young king mentioned about not having finished his lesson about a particular country’s history, and forced Gunter back into the room from where he had appeared. Wolfram knew it was another of Yuuri’s excuses to escape from him and tried to stop him, but the next thing he knew was the door slamming in his face. He called out angrily and pounded on the door with his fists, and eventually stopped when he realized that he was acting foolishly indeed.

He did not need to be a genius to know that Yuuri was avoiding him for it was as obvious as the concrete door in front of his face. Though it was difficult for him to admit, there was a possibility that Gunter was right. For all he knew, Yuuri could have been avoiding him all because he took their engagement for granted. The young demon king never did express any indication of considering it as a serious matter. This realization pained Wolfram. At that moment, it felt as if a knife pierced through his heart. It was not a secret that he… that Yuuri was special to him. The question was whether Yuuri felt the same…

Wolfram slightly jerked when he felt another hand holding his own. He looked down to see Greta, concern evident on her face. “What’s wrong, Wolfram?” The girl said. “Your hand was shaking so much…”

It was true, Wolfram realized. He had been clenching his fists so tightly that blood had already accumulated in his knuckles. “Ah,” he flexed his hand. “This… this is nothing, Greta.”

“Are you sure? You looked like you wanted to cry.”

Wolfram knelt down and smiled at his daughter. “I’m all right. Honest.” He bit his tongue. He knew he was lying to Greta. He was also lying to himself.

“All right, then.” Greta grinned widely. “Wolfram, is Yuuri inside? Do you think he can read to me Anissina’s new book?” The girl asked enthusiastically. Wolfram finally noticed the thick, leather-bound book that she held under her left arm. He took the book from Greta. On the cover were neatly engraved golden letters spelling out the words: Dokuonna Anissina and the Corsage of Malevolence. As usual, Anissina’s books portrayed her uncanny and rather dangerous disposition, and Wolfram still wondered whether it was appropriate for children to read such books.

“Yuuri is studying.” He gave the book back to Greta.

Disappointment was clear on Greta’s face, but she nonetheless smiled. “Oh, then… will you read it to me, Wolfram? You always did before.” Greta asked as she stared hopefully at Wolfram.

Admittedly, Wolfram knew that he was not in the right state of mind to read Greta a book as he always did. A jumble of thoughts and emotions welled up inside of him and at that moment, he yearned for solitude rather than company. Nevertheless, he did not want to disappoint his daughter further. He offered his hand to Greta and said “Yes,” albeit reluctantly, and the two of them headed towards the castle garden.

Greta excitedly told Wolfram about scenes from the book that Anissina already read to her previously. She playfully mimed certain parts of the story, laughed and exclaimed in all the right places. Little did she know that her second father was not listening to her at all or rather, Wolfram was too preoccupied in his thoughts to pay attention to anything else.

Even though Yuuri did not regard their relationship seriously, although it hurt for Wolfram to admit, the young king never attempted to avoid him completely before as he did now. There was certainly another reason. He’s hiding something, thought Wolfram again, and he was determined to know what that “something” was. Secrecy had never been Yuuri’s forte, and Wolfram was too keen when it came to his fiancé. Yuuri was too naïve and impossibly nicer than anyone else. His perpetually positive disposition can melt even the hardest of hearts, and it was the primary reason as to why almost everyone was attracted to the young king.

“Wolfram?” said Greta, surprised that Wolfram stopped all of a sudden. “Wolfram, what’s wrong?” Greta asked worriedly. She realized that Wolfram’s hands were trembling again before the latter muttered something under his breath. “Wolfram?”

Wolfram felt as if there was something lodged in his throat. All of a sudden, he found it hard to breath. He tried to suppress his thoughts, horrified of the slightest possibility of it. Of all the reasons, why that?

“Shinou-heika,” whispered Wolfram, his voice full of hurt. “Please, anything but that…”

The slow but steady tick of the grandfather clock echoed in the silent room. Darkness covered its entirety, the moon offering but little illumination through the massive windows. A majestic bed stood on the middle of the room, barely visible in the shadows. Cradled in it was none other than Yuuri, who lied face down on the plush mattress.

The young king was already deep in his slumber. He had spent the entirety of the day studying the history of innumerable countries—from the small isle of Bandarbia to the vast territories of Big Shimaron—and was excessively exhausted. Somewhere along Gunter’s spectacularly long and tedious monologue, Yuuri had regretted his decision of considering Gunter as a refuge from Wolfram. Admittedly, his insistence on studying earlier was only a front to escape from the blond. It was foolishness on his part, yes, and he paid for it dearly. It was not long before he had desperately wished for Wolfram’s company rather than Gunter’s company.

At dusk, Gunter finally dismissed him, and he headed straight to the comforting confines of his room. He immediately collapsed onto his bed upon arriving, his head still throbbing from the recent ordeal. A few minutes passed and Conrad came to bring him his dinner, but said dinner was left untouched as Yuuri fell asleep not long after.

Before sleep overcame him, however, Yuuri still had thoughts of Wolfram. Subconsciously, he waited for the blond to enter the room and climb onto the space beside him, but Wolfram did not come.

Now, Yuuri was dreaming.

It was a very strange dream. Wolfram was still in it, but it was not about the kiss. In the dream, Wolfram was in the royal court, and he was kneeling in front of the throne. He was saying something incomprehensible, Yuuri observed, to the king. The next that Yuuri saw was his self. He was the king, of course. However, Yuuri felt strange with what he saw: it was like watching a movie in which he was an actor. He, or rather, the Yuuri in the dream was also saying something in turn. It seemed like a normal yet curiously formal conversation between him and Wolfram.

The only difference was the woman clinging to his left arm.

Yuuri woke with a start. It was not an ordinary dream, of that he was completely certain. It was the same vision he saw through the demon mirror: his and Wolfram’s future.

The young king sat up on his bed, the shadows enveloping his slender form. He could feel his hand trembling. Since the incident with the demon mirror, Yuuri had not seen the vision, even in his dreams. Not until now, that is. Was there a particular reason why he dreamt about it?

The mattress slightly creaked when Yuuri stood up. He went in front of the massive window, the sadness he felt visible through his reflection on the glass. Somehow, he was saddened and pained at what the vision foretold him. He believed in Fate for Fate brought him to Shin Makoku. Yet he also believed that an individual had control over his own future. The vision clearly showed how his relationship with Wolfram would turn out, and he was not, at most, pleased about it.

Voices from the other side of his door brought Yuuri out of his pondering. The sound of footsteps belonged to guards, Yuuri noted. The neighing of horses outside then caught his attention, and he looked back out of the window to see a couple of guards clad in green enter the castle grounds on horseback.

Green, Yuuri mused. “Gwendal!”

The young king hurriedly ran out of the room and headed down to the castle grounds. Upon arriving at the front stairs, Yuuri noticed that the others were already there.

“Heika,” said Conrad. “I thought you were already asleep.”

“I’m awake now,” Yuuri said. He saw that Gunter and Gwendal were already engaged in a conversation, along with Geigen Huber. They were discussing a serious matter, Yuuri observed, for the expression on Gwendal’s face was more stern than usual.

Two days ago, Gwendal left with his personal guards on a mission of which objectives Yuuri still did not know of. Yuuri had heard from Conrad that it was only another borderline dispute, yet Yuuri was not sure he completely believed that. A mere borderline dispute did not require Gwendal’s full attention. Usually, he left the task either to Gunter or to Huber.

“That Belal will not stop at anything.”

Yuuri gasped. “Belal? What did Belal do again?” He approached them closer.

“H-Heika!” said a startled Gunter. It was apparent that he, along with Huber and Gwendal, was unaware of Yuuri’s presence until that moment. “Y-You should be in your room, taking your rest, Your Majesty.”

Yuuri shook his head. Now he was certain that it was not a mere borderline dispute. “You said something about Belal—”

“—you must have heard wrong, Your Majesty—”

“—what’s with him? What’s going on?” Yuuri insisted despite Gunter’s excuses. “Gwendal!” He turned to the stern-faced Mazoku who remained frustratingly silent. “Gwendal!”

“It would be better if you went back to your room, Yuuri.”

Yuuri turned to see Wolfram coming down the concrete stairs. Their eyes met for a moment but to Yuuri’s utter surprise, Wolfram had been the first to look away. The blond passed by him with an unusual air of indifference and started his own conversation with Gwendal. It was so sudden, yet Yuuri was certain he felt an intense pain course through his chest at Wolfram’s indifference.

A hand had made its way to Yuuri’s shoulder; Conrad had somehow approached him without him knowing. “Now, now,” Conrad started. “The king is to be informed of relevant matters concerning his kingdom, is he not, Sir von Voltaire? Sir von Christ? I think this matter has reached a point to which His Majesty must have complete knowledge of.” The tone of his voice remained unchanged as Conrad addressed Wolfram, “You, of all people, should know that Yuuri would not be discouraged that easily from knowing the truth.”

Wolfram bit his lip at Conrad’s statement. He knew that, of course. At present though, he was more concerned of matters that inevitably concerned his relationship with the young king. Seeing and being with him would only complicate things: it was not an easy task for him to avoid Yuuri and it would never be.

“Very well, then,” affirmed Gwendal, albeit reluctantly. He gave commands to his men and headed inside the castle as the others followed him from behind.

Caloria has fallen captive to Big Shimaron. A mass murder will occur if the Maou will not surrender to the humans. This was Belal’s orders.

…To be continued…

A/N: Chapter Two done! Review. Please. :)