The End and the Beginning

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Author's note: Just for the challenge, I wrote a story where Yuuri and Wolfram do not get together. Also, I'm not a ConYuu fan. (Sorry, guys!) My story is in no way a slight to those who like that. So, if you'd prefer to move on to a different story, I totally understand avoiding my experiment here. As always, this piece is for fun and no profit. Please take nothing seriously.

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Wolfram stretched a little on the bed. He was still in his blue military uniform but had taken his heavy boots off—letting them fall carelessly to the floor. It was getting late and he'd gotten tired of waiting for his wimp.

Wolfram leafed through the brown, leather-bound book he was holding. Again.

The blond had been reading the same page over and over—he'd lost count how many times. But, as ridiculous as it was, it also seemed very natural. Some part of me waits for him…no matter how hard I try not to.

Bright emerald green eyes went to the door again. "This is stupid… How long does it take to settle one ridiculous dispute over water rights?"

Wolfram sat up again at the sound of footsteps outside the door. Then, they faded.

It wasn't him! Wolfram collapsed back onto the bed with a frustrated "Ugh!"

After dinner, just as everyone was leaving, a messenger had come to the door asking for Gwendal. Apparently, two of the more prestigious families in the local village had been disagreeing to the point of threatening violence over who had control of the river that ran through both of their properties. One family wanted to build a rather large dam of unhewn stone. The other, obviously, didn't.

Gwendal, being an earth wielder and high ranking noble, was the one whom they chose to settle the dispute. But Yuuri, seeing a chance to help negotiate things, bustled his way in and, before Wolfram could stop him, off the young man went without so much as a goodbye. Not that Wolfram wanted one, or appeared to want one. But, still, he felt ignored. And some part of him decided that he'd just go to bed and wait for Yuuri in the royal chambers—which he did—with a supposedly good book. But, now, he could only feel his frustrations building.

Wolfram raked his fingers through his hair. Clearly, all of this could wait until tomorrow. The evening, around bedtime, was the only time he had Yuuri all to himself. That was it. Add to the fact that he had noticed that Yuuri had become more distant as of late. They no longer talked about their day, their disappointments, their hopes and dreams. Now, it was a simple "goodnight" and then Yuuri would turn away onto his side. But, starting tonight, Wolfram had decided they would change all of that. He would call Yuuri "wimp" a lot less often (even if he did think it in his head) and Yuuri would listen to him, talk to him again—really talk. Become close.

With a sigh, Wolfram reached down for his boots on the floor. He crammed his feet in and made his way for the door. Maybe, he'd find Yuuri and the others, stand in the doorway with his arms folded, and glare until everyone decided to call it a night.

The blond began his search in the meeting room that Yuuri usually picked for small group talks. No luck. The room was dark; the candles extinguished. The next stop was Gwendal's office. It was dark, too—no one there. The maou's office? No. The Throne Room? No. The toilets? No. The kitchen? No.

Wolfram huffed impatiently. Where was everyone? He chanced to pass by a window and saw that the small group Yuuri and Gwendal had met with were long since down the road—using torches to lead the way.

He scratched his head. So, where is Yuuri? Gwendal?

Wolfram continued on and, just for the sake of telling himself that he'd searched everywhere in the castle, he opened the door to the ballroom. The chandelier's candles were lit. He narrowed his eyes at that.

Odd…

Green eyes peeked inside. No one.

Wolfram was about to leave when he heard what was clearly Yuuri's voice. The words were lost but there was no mistaking the tone. The blond smirked a little to himself. His accidental fiancé must be watching the stars right now. It was one of his favorite things and the ballroom's wide balcony was really the perfect place.

Wolfram could just imagine Yuuri's face, turning up at the sky in wonder.

Wolfram entered, walking casually. Peering through the open door as he went forward, the blond ex-prince could tell it was a peaceful night that was full of stars and glitter in the firmament.

Just glorious…

A cool breeze blew in from the door and the blond tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear.

Then, he stopped. There was a second voice. Wha-? He knew it well and it made his blood boil thinking that Yuuri was sharing a moment alone on the balcony with Conrad.

Cheater! Wolfram let his head fall back in frustration, vision drilling a hole through the impossibly high ceiling. The two of them are out looking at the stars and having a heart to heart. I should be the one there with Yuuri. I should be the one he talks to and confides in! I'm Yuuri's fiancé. It isn't fair that there's a part of Yuuri's heart that I can never touch.

With his hands fisted in his pockets and a set, annoyed face, Wolfram made his way to the door ahead.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms folded…

Looked over…

And his heart stopped.

Yuuri was kissing Conrad. Passionately.

"Hell," Wolfram breathed. It wasn't loud, the way he'd said it. But it was enough to get their attention.

The kiss broke. Yuuri tore himself away from Conrad and began buttoning up his black school jacket—seemingly flustered, nervous. Conrad simply stared between the two, dumbfounded, as though he couldn't believe what was going on. But he got caught. He knew that much.

"Damn you…both," Wolfram cursed in a monotone whisper, eyes staring through them now. Trapped within his own emotions. Trapped within himself. He took two steps backward before turning on his heel and walking away at a rushed pace.

He wanted to cry. He truly did. But, now was not the time. He'd let himself cry later—later when he was alone and had time to do it. Yes, that was the promise he made to himself so that he could get through the next five minutes.

He bumped into something tall and clothed in green. Gwendal!

Wolfram raised his chin. Surprised emerald eyes met his brother's slightly annoyed but curious gaze. It was only when Yuuri and Conrad emerged from the ballroom with disheveled clothing and guilty expressions that Gwendal put two and two together—and then he rested a hand against his aching head. He didn't need this (even though he had suspected something).

Following Gwendal's stare, Wolfram turned to Yuuri and Conrad—shattering as it was—and then back again.

Everything clicked into place.

"You…knew," Wolfram hissed, eyes squinting in thought as it occurred to him. He gave his brother a direct, enraged look. "You knew…AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME!"

Wolfram felt his connection with the fire element ignite. Power flowed through his body. Faster. Faster. Faster.

Fire!

Sensing it, Gwendal stepped away from the blond. Wolfram had called forth fire so quickly and so heatedly that he didn't need to chant his usual incantation. He was blazing hot now. His blond hair billowed with the rising heat around his body; a circle of flame lit up the floor, creating a column of intense, sizzling heat and light with Wolfram at the center.

"Wolfram! Calm down!" Gwendal barked, but found himself wanting to back away even more. This was the first time in his life that he felt threatened by his baby brother. And his concern mounted as Wolfram's head swiveled to Yuuri and Conrad, fire dancing in his eyes.

Conrad, concerned for his godson's wellbeing, put a grip on his shoulder. Holding him back seemed the best bet in case things came to blows or, maybe, a barrage of fireballs. But the gesture of the seemingly possessive hand only made Wolfram's flames burn brighter, enraged eyes slicing into him.

The blond was visibly panting now and sweat drizzled down his face and onto his neck. He was using up his magic at an incredible rate. It was almost addictive.

"Wolfram…I…" Yuuri began, apologetic. He could feel a "baking in the sun" kind of heat spreading on the stone work. "Please…I…need to…tell you…I'm s-"

And with a flick of the wrist, it was all gone.

Wolfram stormed off, arms pumping as he went.

"Gwendal," Yuuri began, "I mean…I… It's just that…" He was blabbering, he knew. And the expression that embodied pure hatred coming from Gwendal didn't ease his guilty conscience.

"Damn you all!" echoed Wolfram's voice, deep and bloody.

"I'm sorry…I am…" Yuuri said to no one and everyone.

The administrator ignored his drivel with an angry toss of his head. Instead, he left the double black behind, walking with even strides in the same direction Wolfram had gone. An insensitive, immature monarch was the least of his problems now anyway. For the moment, he was keeping his sights on the shrinking image of his youngest brother. Conrad was doing likewise, hoping to talk Wolfram down from a height.

The door to the royal bedroom opened and closed with a violent slam.

Together, the brothers stopped.

Yuuri jogged. He caught up with the other two. "Well," Yuuri said uncomfortably but with a little relief, "I guess…we'll let him cool off for now and then, later, we'll be able to explain to him...and…"

The door opened again.

It slammed into the wall.

Wolfram emerged with his sword by his side.

"Wolfram's got his sword!" Yuuri turned to Conrad as though his godfather could do something to fix the situation.

"Stay here with His Majesty, Gwendal. I'll speak with Wolfram."

Gwendal raised a skeptical eyebrow, watching Conrad doing his best to meet up with the blond bishonen. "He's a fool if he thinks Wolfram will listen to him now..." He faced Yuuri. "…Or ever again…"

Reluctantly, Yuuri turned to the tall man. "I can't believe…I won't…"

"That you just destroyed my family, Your Majesty?"

"No," Yuuri said, trying to convince himself. "He's mad right now…but…"

There was a huffed laugh of derision. "It's one thing to call someone a 'cheater.' But, to see it happening before your eyes is an entirely different matter. And, for Wolfram, trust was always fragile," Gwendal said offhandedly. "Don't expect me to defend your behavior." And, with that, he walked slowly—as though attending a funeral procession—in the direction of Conrad and Wolfram in the faint hopes of settling what was left of this "loud" conversation in another, more discrete—hopefully, fireproof—location.

He hoped, but he also knew better.

Wolfram continued his even strides, seeing his goal up ahead. It was the door leading to the gardens. He would take it. He'd go through the rose garden and over to the stables.

He'd had enough.

This was it. This was over.

He had no place in this castle. No purpose. No one.

Close.

The door was so close.

He could escape.

"Wolfram!" Conrad called, his tone commanding.

A hand reached out and Wolfram didn't need to see it to sense it.

The blond faced his enemy with a grip on his sword. "Don't make me use this," he threatened. A smile followed it, but it was a crooked, dangerous smile. And his eyes were wrong—an algae green. More than that, they struck Conrad as broken. "I know I'll lose to you, but still…it would be worth the effort."

Battling him to the death. The very idea of it felt good. He could strike out as hard as he wanted to.

"We don't want to fight, Wolfram. Let's go somewhere…to talk this out."

"There's nothing to talk about." There was a strange, almost contemplative surface that was thinly coving his refueled ire. "You shredded my honor…took my fiancé and my life here. What more do you want from me…? My blessing?" He laughed, almost maniacal. What a ridiculous thought. "That won't happen…Sir Weller." He smiled resentfully at the name of his older brother.

Wolfram turned his eyes to Gwendal. "I had no father, but…I had you." He lowered his head. "…Thought I had you…"

"Look, Wolfram…," Gwendal said roughly, but was interrupted by Wolfram talking over him.

"YOU KNEW!" Wolfram shouted, hands balled into fists. "I can understand being betrayed by Sir Weller of all people! But, YOU knew and you SAID…NOTHING!" Wolfram wanted to take a swing at him, visualized it. Instead, he laughed again, bitter and angry. "I understand it now. I do." His grip on his sword tightened, knuckles white. "You've always loved your country first, Sir Weller second, and me last!"

"THAT'S NOT IT!" Gwendal bellowed.

"IT'S THE TRUTH!" Wolfram yelled back with a finger pointing at Yuuri.

The double black simply continued to approach them, looking sick at heart.

Sweat glistened on Wolfram's face and neck, feeling the adrenaline coursing through his veins and the fire begging to be released from his palms. "Or prove me wrong," he challenged, breathing hard as though he'd been running. "You can't…can you?"

Yuuri took a step closer, willing himself to come near the blond Mazoku. But Wolfram would have none of it. Their argument over, he proceeded down the hall to the closed door. By now, though, the hallway had gathered quite a crowd. Eight guards appeared out of nowhere due to the shouting. More were on the way. Some maids, still in their nightwear, stood by—watching the display with a mixture of pity and fright. Greta showed up briefly but was escorted away by Anissina muttering "men" as a curse word.

"Wolfram! Oi, Wolf!" Yuuri called, running up from behind. "Please, don't go! Please…accept my…"

The blond stopped, much to the double black's relief, and glanced over his shoulder. "Make me."

Yuuri's jaw dropped. "Wha-?"

"I said…make me." A cruel, defiant grin followed as he turned.

"Wolf…ram?" Yuuri said, feeling his own anger spike. This was just typical of their fights. They always fought like an old married couple. The double black straightened his face and tried to fight the frustration off. If he could do it in negotiations, he could do it right now. "Stay, Wolfram, so that we can talk to you…discuss this."

"Up yours."

Yuuri practically squeaked, "What did you just say?"

"Get Gissela to check your hearing, you ass." He used the rude Mazoku word for "you" while he was at it.

Onyx eyes widened at that. "Wolfram! Stop now or…!"

Wolfram passed two guards who weren't sure if they were allowed to let Little Lord Brat go by or not. The maou had just ordered his fiancé to stop.

"Don't make me order you, Wolfram!" He stomped along.

That was it.

Wolfram clicked his heels to a stop and pivoted back with pure hatred in his eyes. "You can't order me!" And, with that, the blond stripped off his military coat and threw it at the closest guard. The man, distressed, held the blue coat as though it would bite him in the next second.

Wolfram gripped the antique neckchain at his throat. The fist flew downwards, sending the precious beads to the floor like a shower of rain.

Wolfram bowed elegantly. "I no longer belong to you, Your Majesty."

The blond Mazoku turned one last time and made strides for the exit—but not before casting a wall of fire between himself and Yuuri by raising his hand with a graceful flair.

The double black stood back, staring at the barrier. And, by the time it dissipated, Wolfram was long gone through the gates of Blood Pledge Castle.

Regretfully, Gwendal retrieved his brother's coat from the guard. The middle aged Mazoku guard seemed relieved at that and the maids standing next to him watched the administrator closely to see what he'd do.

Conrad got to one knee and picked up a bead. "I can't believe he did this."

"I don't understand," Yuuri said, looking at the scattered beads all around.

Gwendal's headache came with a vengeance. Wanting to put a hand to his aching head, instead, he turned to the double black. "Yes, it is painfully obvious to everyone here that you never understood anything about Wolfram." He tightened his grip on the coat. "The neckchain was a precious gift given to him at his Coming of Age party. His Uncle Waltorana bestowed it upon him to symbolize their family's noble status and allegiance to the maou." Gwendal turned the, now, somewhat wrinkled with finger marks military coat over in his hands. It still smelled like him, like sunflowers on a midsummer day. "More importantly, he gave this up," Gwendal growled. "It's what he'd worked for…for so long." Gwendal narrowed his eyes at Yuuri. "Essentially, Wolfram has given up his military service, his allegiance to the maou, and his citizenship."

"I didn't think…" Yuuri began almost pleadingly.

Gwendal kicked a bead out of his path as he returned to his quarters. "I agree. You didn't."

Adelbert von Grantz was standing near the stables with a large curry comb in his right hand and a slightly irritated and impatient horse tied loosely to a railing in front of him. With it being such a nice day, and who knows when he'd be able to just get out and relax again, he chose to groom Aaron outside with a small picnic lunch for himself (and a carrot for Aaron) handy under a pine tree. Adelbert could have paid someone else to do the daily ritual, but Aaron was terribly attached to him and the task always gave the older man something else to concentrate on besides business.

A clomping sound on the narrow road met his ears.

So much for peace and quiet… He shrugged to himself and looked to his right. He saw a white horse with a blond riding bareback wearing a thin, white shirt and blue trousers approaching fast.

"The third son, eh?" he muttered, amused. Didn't even bother to saddle his horse? This should be good. In a cocky tone, he called out to Wolfram, "Where are your brothers and your king? I'm surprised to see you here without them. Come to think of it, I'm surprised you're anywhere without them." It was followed by a mirthful laugh but Wolfram wasn't smiling.

The young Mazoku pulled up along side of Adelbert and glared down. "Well, when it comes to 'surprises,' I'm not surprised with the greeting I just received. That is very much like you."

"Hm?" He tilted his head to one side, thinking. "You didn't answer my question."

Wolfram jumped down from his horse. "As the saying goes, 'Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies.'"

Eyes cut in his direction. "No truth, either."

"Agreed."

Adelbert went back to grooming his horse, but he wasn't ignoring Wolfram's presence. Sometimes, among men, it was easier to talk when something else was going on. "So, what happened?" he pressed on, causing Wolfram to fold his arms across his chest. There was a brief pause where Adelbert noted that Wolfram wasn't being bratty. He was, in fact, hugging himself and looking away at something far beyond view. "I don't want to…" He shook his head.

An impatient sigh met Wolfram's ears. "It's part of the price for my help…whatever it is that you want from me. And let's just say, for the sake of argument, that I'm not looking for any trouble now that the maou…" He watched Wolfram's face. "…Yes, the maou…can tolerate me."

"I see…" Wolfram's voice was low, unsure.

Adelbert smirked widely. "Well, you must have trusted me up to some point or you wouldn't be here right now."

Wolfram ran his fingers through his hair. He'd allowed himself two crying jags during the journey he took through the night—one for the death of 'hope' and one for the death of his old life. Now, he was in a period of mourning, feeling a kind of numbness that he mistook for recovery. If he could get through it by finding a way out of the darkness, it would be enough.

Wolfram rubbed his dry eye—still slightly pinkish from crying. "It's over… I'm done with them."

The older Mazoku almost dropped his comb. "Wait, are you telling me that you've quit Blood Pledge Castle, your family, and Yuuri Heika?" He couldn't believe it. Wolfram had always appeared to be a total fool for the king. And he was someone who would rather die than leave the home he'd grown up in. On the other hand, there were those rumors about him… If true, this would be understandable.

"You heard me," Wolfram grumbled, giving Adelbert a defiant face. "And, now, I'd like to join up with you and your group…for the time being."

"It's not the same group," Adelbert explained. "I've been expanding my business lately…into protecting cargo…from the noble House of von Bielefeld, no less…" He grinned at the name. "…That is, we escort their exports into the human lands…all thanks to treaties signed by Yuuri Heika, of course." He winked at Wolfram who returned it with a sour face. "But, I suspect you knew all of that before coming here. You've been talking to your Uncle Waltorana lately, right?"

"I don't really care," he returned. "But, I'd like the money and the job. So, do you want me or not?"

"And the conditions…?" Yes, he was a businessman after all. There had to be something.

Wolfram's face grew serious. "We keep my short-term association with you a secret."

"Even from your family…and Yuuri Heika?"

"Clearly."

"Hmmm…" He rubbed his chin in thought.

Why did I bother to see him? And, with that, Wolfram turned abruptly and motioned to get on his horse—one foot already up. He'd had enough of idiots who wasted time. Wolfram knew that he had a good sword and a strong body. He would find a way to make use of both.

"Okay, fine!" Adelbert said in a suddenly gruff tone before Wolfram was seated. "There's a tavern in this town where my people and I meet. I have a room there that I rent…to discuss…issues." He patted his horse on the neck apologetically. He wouldn't be able to finish the brush job after all. "Just wait here. I'll put Aaron back and then I'll show you where we meet."

In the Dog and Trumpet Tavern, Adelbert leaned back in his chair. He was at a table with his associates: Josh, Timmon, and Jolan. He'd noticed, particularly, Jolan's sulky attitude the second Wolfram invited the barmaid, Shay, to sit next to him. Or, rather, on him.

In the far corner of the room, Wolfram had taken the table he usually preferred when he was in this town and in this place—a small, beaten-up wooden table with two chairs. He'd chatted up the new girl, Shay, managing to get a large flagon of brown ale and plate of bread and cheese. Then, once she'd brought the refreshments, he'd grabbed her wrist and easily pulled her backwards, into his lap.

The whole tavern laughed roguishly at the cute "eek" of false protest which, of course, fooled nobody.

Jolan hid her jealous grey eyes under a canopy of mousy brown shoulder length hair.

"Oh, forget about it," Adelbert counseled. He'd seen this kind of thing going on repeatedly over the last eleven months—seen it enough to know that none of it was serious. "He's just enjoying himself."

"As if I care," she lied and took a large gulp of the ale in front of her.

No one could drink the small statured, large breasted earth wielding Mazoku under the table. Jolan considered it to be one of her "special skills." Too bad Wolfram wasn't interested in it…or any of her other ones. The dark purple, tight fitting bodice to her newest outfit didn't attract his attention in the slightest (even if everyone else loved the new "view"). Neither did her "bouncy" personality that she reserved only for him. And she found it odd that Adelbert told her to stop it because the blond Mazoku would come to interpret her behavior as "too motherly."

Jolan swallowed another mouthful.

Wolfram placed a cupped hand to Shay's delicate ear—trying not to get his fingers tangled in the white ribbons that fell from the dainty cap she wore to keep her pink hair out of the way. The other hand was wrapped around her waist, tightening into the red and green plaid dress with the white apron on top.

Wolfram whispered a secret to her. She giggled.

In the next second, Shay draped her arms around Wolfram's neck and laced the fingers together. Jolan visibly bristled.

"Oh, give it up," Timmon sighed openly—taking some cashews from the bowl in the center of the table and cramming them into his mouth. His hands held scars from adventures he still refused to talk about. "Ram," he said, pointing over to Wolfram with his thumb, "doesn't see you that way. You're just one of the group… like the rest of us." He smirked at the scowling face before him. Then, he added loftily "Of course, I could make a play for him and see how it goes…"

That got a hard kick to his shins.

"Damn you! That hurt!"

A few of the nosier clientele gave a casual glance to the ruggedly dressed thirty-something year old human before going back to their drinks.

Josh, sitting next to Timmon, went back to making love to his small glass of the tavern's famous—or, possibly, infamous—moonshine. "Glad she didn't kick me,' the half Mazoku chuckled. He closed his smiling gold eyes and let the warm liquid flow down his throat.

"Yeah," was laughed by Adelbert in Timmon's direction. He was amused, but his eyes scanned the room for trouble, as was his nature when the times were good.

The problem was, he'd found it.

Two steps into the tavern. That was all it took.

He saw him. And Yozak couldn't believe his eyes. He simply stood there, mind frozen for a second, as he saw the person he knew to be Lord Wolfram von Bielefeld sitting at a table with a flagon of ale in one hand and a dead common little barmaid in his lap.

The orange haired man stepped forward, as though in a dream, in the blond's direction. "I didn't expect to see you here," was what he could hear himself uttering. It was a dumb thing to say, he knew, but it was all he could come up with at the moment.

At the sound of the eerily familiar voice, Wolfram turned his face away from the pretty girl and up to see Yozak's beefy form. The crooked smile faded from him.

Staring back just as blankly as Yozak, Wolfram said in a hollow tone, "It's been awhile…" Next, he returned to the girl, forcing himself to act brightly. "I suppose we will have to finish our conversation later." Wolfram shrugged a bit, watching happily as the girl stood up. He felt even better once she left.

With a toss of the head, Shay brushed off her skirts, trying to appear presentable once more, and made her way for the bar. There were orders waiting.

"I…uh…" Yozak began, not sure of what he was going to say. "I…had heard that Adelbert had taken on new partners." His sky blue eyes trailed to the far end of the room where Adelbert was staring back as though disturbed by his presence. "I knew one was reported to be a blond…and handsome. I just never connected it with…"

"Me?" Wolfram said. The crooked smile returned. The eyes narrowed a little suspiciously.

Yozak took in the man before him. Wolfram was wearing a cream colored shirt, a pair of dark brown trousers, and knee high boots. Half of his blond hair gently spilled onto his shoulders. The other half was tied back carelessly with a silk thread of bright green—the color his eyes once were.

"Can I join you?" Yozak asked. He had so many questions. Probably, the first was how the blond had managed to avoid detection for almost one calendar year.

Wolfram seemed to consider it, his eyes shifting to his right—searching his mind and memories. Then, his face changed. And he spoke in a voice that would be foreign compared to the "Wolfram" that Yozak once knew.

"I will accept your offer, Gurrier…but on two conditions."

Gurrier? The orange haired man fought a frown. This was a name that Wolfram never used with him. "Ummm…Conditions?" Yozak repeated, coming to himself. This was an ample opportunity and he would not let it pass him by. But, still… "Why would we need conditions?" He leaned in cheerfully, boyishly—trying to recapture the undefined connection that they once had. But, almost immediately, he saw a flash in the muted green eyes that signaled he'd done something wrong.

"I see," he sighed. "And, with that, I bid you farewell…Sir Spy."

Yozak's eyes widened. Yes, he'd definitely done something wrong. No arguments. No verbal explosions. Just an aura of tedium from a banal conversation.

Wolfram stood from the chair. He would disappear again in the next moment. Yozak was certain of it.

"I promise…I wasn't spying," Yozak whispered sincerely. "I was supposed to come to his village tomorrow evening to deal with Adelbert. We have a job for him and he's available." The man tilted his head to the side, looking down to see if Wolfram believed him or not. "I happen to like this tavern. So, I came a day early."

"A meeting?" the blond said loud enough to be heard.

Wolfram shifted his gaze to Adelbert, who nodded slowly but had a sour expression—giving Yozak a suspicious stare as well.

Yozak spoke quickly. "So, I'll agree to your conditions in return for your company this evening."

"My conditions?" Wolfram drawled in a foppish way that seemed he'd suddenly put on a phony accent.

"Yes."

"All night long…?" He tilted his head cutely, strands of hair spilling down his right shoulder. "I never said you could have me that long." Wolfram sat back down in his chair and gestured to the one across from him.

Yozak smiled a bit nervously, turned in his seat, and waved to the man behind the bar to get him a drink. The old, salt-n-pepper haired Mazoku remembered Yozak well—or, rather, how well he'd pay for any scrap of gossip that was floating around. He nodded and set to his work.

"You do understand that you've made a very foolish agreement just now." The blond finished it with a knowing chuckle. How many times had he lectured Yuuri on this? Maybe, stupidity was a disease that came from living in Blood Pledge Castle.

"S-Sorry?" A slight frown appeared between his eyebrows, reminiscent of Gwendal. But Wolfram pushed that though forcefully from his mind.

"Never agree blindly to what people ask."

Yozak's drink arrived and Shay placed it before the beefy, orange haired man. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the two. Both, it appeared, were appealing to her. She felt so lucky. She gave a quick curtsy and would go back to wiping down the bar. If she was lucky, she'd have the perfect place to gaze upon the handsome, almost godlike, men. Shay embraced the warm feeling as she wandered off.

"I agree with you there." Yozak paused to take a drink. "But, since it's you…after all." He wiped his mouth with his thumb.

A blond eyebrow arched at that. "Especially…since it's me…It would probably have been wiser to think twice over such a situation…"

Wolfram had changed. No doubt about it.

"So," he asked casually, "what are the conditions that I have agreed to?"

Broken eyes regarded him and then down to the flagon of half-full ale. "You know, I could have asked you to fall on your sword."

Yozak swallowed hard at that, eyes bulging. He sniffed. Yes, some of it had gone up his nose. He gave it a quick rub.

A devious smirk from the other side of the table. "But, I'm not interested in that. And there would, most likely, be someone who would cry for you if you didn't return."

They both understood what that meant.

Conrad.

Yozak picked up his drink again, but stared into it in a pensive sort of way. Wolfram had not forgotten Conrad. Maybe, it had taken almost a year of traveling to come to this point. "Conditions, then?"

"You will make no attempt to find me after tonight."

That one would be hard, Wolfram knew. The month after he'd left, Wolfram heard from the grapevine that Yuuri had ordered Yozak and others to locate him. Not wanting to return, Wolfram managed to find some bleach and had bleached his hair a dazzling platinum. Wearing a cowl and brown contacts for weeks after that had helped, too, until he became established as a part of Adelbert's group. Then, he let his hair grow out. But, the hiding didn't really stop there. In fact, Lady Cheri had offered a reward to anyone with information leading to his whereabouts. And, on one particular job, Wolfram agreed to a smaller take of the profits in return for Alderbert and the others not turning him in—as they teased that they would do. Of course, they easily agreed to the lion's share. And, beyond that, Wolfram was simply too handy with a sword to let go even though Wolfram had reminded them repeatedly that he would be leaving someday soon when the mood struck him.

Holding onto people, onto routine—those things only caused more pain in the future. Yuuri had taught him that. And Wolfram was an excellent student.

"Also, you will deliver a message to Lord Weller."

At the mention of Conrad, Yozak perked up in his chair. But that little motion was all that Wolfram needed in order to see where the spy's thoughts and loyalties were firmly housed. While Yozak may have liked Yuuri, trusted him, and gone into dangerous situations for him, Conrad was the one who held his heart. The dimwit.

Why am I not surprised?

"The message?" Yozak said, trying to be nonchalant about it. But, he could feel his heart beating hard.

Wolfram took a large drink, not breaking eye contact with the spy as he did so. Yes, Yozak was keen to know what it would be.

The crooked smile returned. "Tell Lord Weller…that I will hate him until the day my bones are planted into the earth." He chuckled, "Following that, my soul will be freed."

Yozak narrowed his eyes at Wolfram, all pretense of being nice washed away. "Look, Wolfram…!"

"It's 'Ram' now," he interrupted.

"What?"

Wolfram's face broke out into an amused smile. Yozak just didn't understand—or didn't want to. "I told you that my name is 'Ram' now…just that…no family name." The blond made a lofty gesture with both hands as though the situation couldn't be helped, but there was an underlying current of anger.

"This is childish, Wolfram!" he complained into his drink. "Go home and deal with the fact that the kiddo and the captain made a mistake."

"Several mistakes…maybe? Many times…surely? " Wolfram asked, voice like velvet now.

Yozak turned his face away.

"So, how does it feel, Gurrier, to know…? Did you find out through the gossip or through the commotion I made while leaving?" Wolfram placed an elbow on the table and his cheek in his palm.

That got him a pained stare. "Our relationship has always been…complicated."

Wolfram gave a hum to that which sounded as though he was not convinced. "It doesn't matter anyway," the blond said, standing up from his chair. Yozak was about to protest considering the fact that he'd agreed to Wolfram's conditions when he felt Wolfram take his hand.

The two of them walked out back, a strange couple—tall and orange with short and bright blond. One frowned with an uncomfortable posture, one was only too happy to lead the way.

They took a right. Near a pine tree, there was an ancient wooden bench. It was rickety and groaned in protest as the two of them sat down.

"It's a relief to leave that place. Please forgive me," Wolfram said, then taking in a breath of cool, night air. "One of my business companions inside there has developed a romantic attachment to me, I fear, which I am beginning to find distressing."

Yozak ran his fingers through his hair. "Speak plainly, Wolfram. This flowery language isn't like you."

Wolfram folded his arms across his chest and then leaned into Yozak's shoulder—startling the spy a little in the darkness. "It's 'Ram' now…I keep restating this fact." Green eyes turned up at him. "It's the name I go by. It's the only name that some people know me by."

"Your family misses you. And you should be grateful to have one."

Wolfram said quietly, "Because you don't? Well, please…don't idolize the life I once had. There were times when I would have traded with you in a second…the agony was so excruciating." Wolfram's blond hair floated with the next breeze, tickling Yozak's cheek and chin. "You didn't try to find me because of my family. You did it because you were ordered to."

Ordered by your king…

The spy said nothing to that, knowing the truth of it.

"To do so," the blond went on, "I'm sure you tried to trace me through the presents I left for Greta."

"Yes," Yozak said, enthused now. "How did you manage that? I came close a few times, however…"

Wolfram laughed at him openly, pearly white teeth. "That's because, I paid people to do it. Either that, or they owed me money…which I forgave easily for making a delivery. I chose women…elderly grandmothers and the maid types." He chuckled a bit more and added, "Security is pretty lax right before lunch, am I right?"

"I'll be sure to remember that."

"You should."

A blond head leaned against Yozak's shoulder again.

"So, are you planning to come to the ceremony?"

"Whose?" Green eyes looked up at him curiously.

"Greta's…"

Wolfram sat straight up. "What are you talking about?" It almost sounded like the old Wolfram…almost. And Yozak enjoyed it immensely.

"You know, the Ceremony of Rainbows?" he went on, trying to keep an even tone now that he had the blond's undivided attention. "Greta's old enough this year—taking part with the other girls and all. Back at the castle, there will be a party for the daughters of the noble class once they've received Shinou's blessing of love."

"Blessing of love?" He rolled his eyes at that. "What Shinou understands about 'love' couldn't fill a thimble."

Yozak glanced at the blond who returned to leaning against him, head on his shoulder. "Are you mad at Shinou, too?"

He sighed and tilted his chin up. Wolfram admired the stars in the blue-black sky with a silvery moon that seemed pressed into it. "Love is a lie…it's a pretty little lie that we tell ourselves to avoid loneliness." Blond strands of hair floated again with the breeze. "So, knowing that, did I lie to Greta when I told her about 'happily ever after' from those Earth fairytales Anissina translated…?" Wolfram smiled at the memory of reading to Greta each night. Safe and warm. "…Maybe, I did… But, if I did lie to her, it was a beautiful one. And she will learn on her own, in time, that love and hope simply do not exist."

The spy hung his head. "I'm so sorry…about everything. I don't think they intended to…"

Wolfram felt a large hand come to his cheek. The fingers threaded into his hair, pulling his head in slightly. The hug that followed was sincere. "It must have been hell for you."

"Hell?" Wolfram said as a sigh. "We make our own Hell."

Yozak felt Wolfram's breath on his cheek. "But…of all the people to find me…even if it was an accident…I'm glad it was you," Wolfram went on, closing his eyes. "…Because we're alike…"

"We are?" Yozak returned, slightly amused as Wolfram suddenly made himself comfortable by putting his head in the spy's lap, lying out flat on the bench, and staring up at the night.

"Yes, exactly alike." He rested his arms on his chest. "Once you've had a taste of freedom, of deciding your own fate…it's almost impossible to go back to that life from before…to allow yourself to be boxed in…four walls staring at you all day long."

The spy nodded. He understood exactly what Wolfram was talking about. It was why he never felt comfortable being at Blood Pledge Castle for too long.

He tussled blond bangs.

A hand reached up over his, stroking it with his thumb.

"So, Gurrier…"

"Call me Yozak."

A soft chuckle.

"Yozak…"

"Yes, Wol…I mean…Ram?"

A sexy grin beamed up at him.

"What are we going to do for the rest of the night? I'm free now, you know, thanks to our bargain."

"Hmmm…" Yozak murmured, leaning down and coming very close. "I believe I can come up with a few things."

"I'm all yours."

"Do you think he'll come?" Greta asked excitedly from the grand ballroom's balcony. She adjusted the three white mums that were tied to her left wrist with ribbons the colors of the rainbow. At the end of each ribbon was a jingle bell. She was wearing a white silk dress with colorful lace and pompoms at the hem. It floated when she twirled…which was going on a lot because Greta was certainly energetic.

"Do you think so?" Greta asked again, looking over her shoulder at the open doorway.

Yuuri was standing there in his usual, dark school uniform. He glanced at the balcony uncomfortably. This place was a bad memory for him. And, over the last few months, he'd managed to avoid it entirely.

"I…I don't know," he answered truthfully. "But Yozak seems to think so…" And just how he got that "feeling" nobody knows…not even Conrad…no matter how hard he tried, Yuuri thought to himself.

"I hope he does!" she said, leaning over the rail to get a better view of the land below.

"I really want him to come. I would have sent out an invitation to him if…" She stopped herself in time. It was just that she was so excited, and being the only human girl among the Mazoku nobles' daughters made her a tad nervous.

Still, it was a conversation that father and daughter avoided. Greta's thin smile was kept firmly in place as she looked down again. But, this time, there was a handsome blond man on a horse that she didn't recognize. However, the light blond Mazoku recognized her easily enough.

"Is that my princess?" he called to her from blow the balcony. Riding up, he easily ignored the gardener's grimace as he trod upon the fresh grass.

"Papa Wolfram?" she squealed and she disappeared from the balcony.

For a brief, miserable second, Wolfram and Yuuri locked eyes. The blond bowed from his horse with a dainty flourish of his hand as the horse seemed to wander off to the right.

In fact, Wolfram knew the door where Greta would suddenly appear. So, he continued to guide his horse in that direction, determined to soldier on with the day ahead no matter how uncomfortable it would be.

"Papa Wolfram!" Greta called, knocking back the thick wooden door and running up to Wolfram with her arms open wide. The bells on her wrist jingled.

He laughed at her. The "old Wolfram" would have counseled her against running in the halls in her white dress. It had to stay perfect for the ceremony. But the new "Ram," didn't care in the slightest. Live for the moment; embrace it.

Wolfram ran up to meet her, grabbing the girl and swinging her around. Luckily, she was still short enough to do it.

Lady Cheri, Gwendal, Yozak, and Conrad emerged from the castle along with servants and some of Wolfram's old guard—eager to see him again. Greta had made quite a stir on her way out of the castle. Following the crowd was Yuuri and Murata.

They found Wolfram hugging Greta with a grin on his face that was all too familiar. She was chatting with him—running her words together in a stream.

The moment was lost, however, at the happy shout of "Oh, my Wolfy!"

Lady Cheri approached Wolfram, pulling him into an "ample bosom" hug before he could utter a word to her. The blond simply allowed her to do it, going through the motions with a tired expression that he quickly hid once she let go.

"Wolfy! It's been so long," Lady Cheri scolded sweetly, eyeing her son's outfit.

Wolfram was wearing a white shirt with intricately tatted lace at the throat and cuffs, a leather belt at the waist, and skin tight black pants that laced up from the ankles all the way up his legs and tied high on the hips. Little patches of pale skin peeked through the lacings in a tantalizing way.

"Oh, I like the trousers," Lady Cheri said, eyeing them.

"Too revealing for such an important ceremony?" he asked in a foppish drawl, eyeing his own mother dressed in a red gown that was practically cut to the navel.

"Of course not!" She hugged Wolfram again. "We're so alike, you and I."

Wolfram's crooked smile returned. He linked his arm with hers and went on with "You are too kind."

"I am your mother!"

"Certainly, my lady, you are that. No one would disagree with you there."

Her eyes widened at the flowery speech and, for a second, she gave him the same kind of pointed look that she gave all of her potential, though insincere, suitors. "I see… You've learned manners while on your…travels, dear Wolfie."

"I have learned many things." He kissed her cheek lightly.

In only a few paces, Wolfram realized his mother's devious designs. She was leading him straight for Conrad and Gwendal. Wolfram gave his mother a side long glance. Either her plan was to see more sparks fly—which seemed unlikely considering that this was Greta's day—or she wanted to get her sons to make up—which was also, in Wolfram's opinion, not happening.

Not bothering to fight her, Wolfram mentally slipped on the mask that he'd been making for the past three weeks. He knew that he would have to decide which face to show these people. And, so far, he'd done an excellent job of being the polite guest.

"Conrad! Gwendal! Look who is here," she said happily.

Wolfram took in the sight of his two older brothers. They looked the same as the day he'd quit the place. Wolfram knew what they were expecting. And they wouldn't get it.

Wolfram bowed with a grand sweep of his free hand. He straightened up with "Hello again…"

Gwendal raised an eyebrow to that and Conrad kept his face serene.

An unpleasant silence fell, making Wolfram sigh inwardly. He turned to his mother and said, "Greta has never been more beautiful than she is today. I have the sneaking suspicion that it has something to do with you." Yes, he could do the small talk as a second language now. The key was in faking "openness." It also worked in their business in stroking the egos of lesser nobles.

"Do you think so?"

It got her a nod.

"The dressmaker and I came up with the designs… Greta approved, of course."

"Of course," he echoed, flipping off his shoulder the blond hair which was tied at the nape of his neck with a white silk cord. It was a short ponytail, but cute.

"Wolfram, we'll talk later," Gwendal promised in a firm tone.

"That's fine, only it's 'Ram' now…not 'Wolfram'."

"Really?" Lady Cheri said with hands clasped. "How manly! My little baby has finally grown up."

It took all of Wolfram's strength to keep from laughing at her silly ways. "And, to be entirely truthful, I do not have an issue with having a quiet discussion with you and…I assume…you." He gestured to Conrad. "However," Wolfram went on, " I believe that we all agree that this is Greta's day. And not a single person…by word or deed…should interfere with it." His dull green eyes narrowed at the two men before him.

"Easily done!" his mother said, smiling back. "Since we were about to make our way to Shinou's Temple," she smiled at Gwendal to get the frown off his face, "it's really time that we all left. During the ceremony, we'll have you sit next to Yuuri Heika, obviously," she added as Yuuri stepped in to join the little group.

She really knows about timing, Wolfram thought sourly.

Seeing Yuuri, Wolfram bowed lowly again as befitting a king.

"As kind and generous as that offer would be," he said loftily, "I would prefer to stand in the back with the others."

That got a pointed look from his mother. She could do that when people didn't follow her script.

"I'm not sure how long I am able to stay," he explained, which got stares from everyone involved.

"The ceremony isn't that long, Ram," came Yozak's voice from behind. "And you did agree to discuss some things." His sky blue eyes motioned to Conrad and Gwendal. In return, dull green eyes took in the spy's form with a slightly dangerous "Don't tell me what to do" vibe to them. Yozak easily shrugged it off and added, "At least, give the rest of us a chance to talk to you, too."

A wink followed.

Wolfram flushed slightly. The blond felt surprised at how his anger was so easily forgotten.

Politely, Wolfram turned back to his mother. "I see that I am outvoted. Therefore, I will stay for the day."

That got a quick hug from Lady Cheri. "Then, we need to be on our way." She beamed happily at Yuuri, taking his hand. "Come now, Ram," she called. "It's time to go."

"I will take my own horse," Wolfram said. "I know the way."

Yuuri glanced back as the crowd followed him.

Wolfram remained behind, a calm but crooked smile on his face as people streamed around him.

"You can drop the fancy language," Yozak said in his ear. "They're gone."

Wolfram turned to Yozak, chin up. "If you say so…" Wolfram took a step closer to the half Mazoku. "But, don't you want to go over and talk with Conrad. He's watching us, you know."

Without looking, Yozak could sense his captain watching them from the point where Greta was getting into her flower-filled carriage.

"Actually," Yozak said in a charming way, "he's not the only one. You've become the center of interest today…and it's not even your ceremony in Shinou's Temple."

Wolfram laughed, letting the mask slip away. "I suppose…but it wasn't my intention. Besides, do I really need a blessing of 'love' from Shinou?" The smile that he gave Yozak was real.

"I really like that," the orange haired man said, tilting his head to the side and putting his hands casually in his pockets.

Today, Yozak was looking rather toothsome in a charcoal grey suit of tailored clothes with a blue shirt peeking out at the throat. The outfit made his sky blue eyes stand out.

"What do you like?" Wolfram heard his tone and couldn't believe that he was almost flirting.

"That's the first time you've given me the real thing."

"Be careful what you say, someone might misunderstand your meaning." Wolfram glanced away and then back to see Yozak's expression.

The spy leaned in close to his face. "It's the first time you've given me a real smile." He tilted his head to the side. "Thank you."

Wolfram turned away, looking for his horse now. One of the servants had it, waiting for him but with eager eyes on the pair. It made the blond sigh inwardly. The gossip never ends.

"So, will I see you again?" Yozak asked.

The blond thought about it. He knew what the man meant by "again." "I don't know. You work here…for these people…in this place."

"But I don't hold your job against you."

Point taken. Wolfram nodded at that. "I come and go as I please, but…" His eyes drifted to the place where Conrad once was. But, obviously, he'd left with Yuuri and Greta. "You have obligations, too."

Yozak followed his gaze. He looked at the space where Conrad had been standing. "It's different now. I decided to make things clear."

Wolfram scratched the side of his cheek. "Clear? How clear?"

Yozak leaned in, kissed Wolfram on the tip of his nose and said as he walked away, "Clear enough to know that I'll be at that tavern two weeks from now at noon."

Greta had been positively radiant as she followed Ulrike; the other girls seemingly a part of her royal train. Now, she was chatting happily with two other girls wearing pastel dresses. They each took plates of rainbow cakes and brightly colored jelly candies to their table.

Standing next to the exit, Wolfram was content but, at the same time, he felt a stab of pain in the knowledge that Greta's next big ceremony would, in all likelihood, be her wedding day. Humans were like that. They just aged too quickly. Add to the fact that, technically, she belonged to Yuuri as did everything else that he used to call "home."

Wolfram glanced around the ballroom as though seeing it for the first time. Günter was still acting as coordinator—handling every single problem as though the world was coming to an end. Still, the decorations were nice. And Wolfram had to hand that to him. Günter gave a nervous twitch as he passed, ignoring Wolfram in favor of nagging the kitchen to put out more vanilla pudding. At least, he wouldn't be getting any unwanted pressure from Yuuri's biggest fan.

Pressure. It was good to get that taken care of. Once back at the castle, Wolfram decided to get his "talk" over with. They had a strained but tolerable discussion in Gwendal's office about what had happened and that Wolfram, or "Ram" as he preferred to be called now, was more than welcome to return. Conrad apologized for not restraining himself with Yuuri, being more than able to predict the consequences of separating his brother from his brother's dearest love. But, at that point, Wolfram refused to let him go into more details. Instead, he held up a thickly callused palm to halt Conrad and muttered meaningless words along side lackadaisical attitudes. And, with that, he managed to slip out of the meeting and into the ballroom where Greta was having her reception.

Wolfram approached the table, gave a sweeping bow at the waist in Greta's direction and asked her for a dance.

"Yes, please!" Greta said, taking his hand. The girls who were left at the table sent death glares to their fathers saying, "Why didn't you ask me to dance, too."

The music started and Wolfram leaned in, taking Greta into his arms. "You know, I believe, my dear princess, that Yuuri Heika will simply have to accept that I got you all to myself first." He heard her giggle at "dear princess" and the enjoyment on her face made his heart lighter.

"I'm really glad you came," she said, trying to remember the steps that Günter had taught her.

"Thank you," he said before twirling her. "That makes me happy."

"That's good," Greta returned with a smile in her voice. "I was…a little worried that you might be mad at me, too. And that's why you didn't come back." Her head was turned down when she said it.

Wolfram's voice became rich and loving. "I was never mad at you. I was mad at other people and the situation…but never you." He held her close to his heart for a few steps before twirling her again. Wolfram realized, at that point, that there was more than one person suffering because of the situation; because he quit Blood Pledge Castle. He made Greta question his love for her.

"I like your shirt," she went on, trying to think of something cheerful to talk about. Her father's eyes seemed so sad.

"Ah, yes… A friend of mine can tat…make lace. I watched her make this piece," he gestured to his collar, "one evening…most impressive."

He heard a slightly jealous "Oh-ho" coming from Greta. "Was it a friend or a friend…?"

His daughter was definitely growing up.

"I have many friends," Wolfram tried to say innocently, but, apparently, it didn't work.

"You didn't answer my question."

"I know."

He twirled her again.

"Can you stay long?" Greta asked, hope in her voice. She tried not to seem too devastated when she heard the word "no." But, she had been expecting that.

"I suspect, my dear princess, I will have to meet with someone else before I leave this place."

"I just love the way you talk." She finished it with a girlish sigh. "And, you know, I think I can guess who it is… It's Yuuri Daddy, right?"

There it was again, that rosy look.

"Can you see any possible way for me to disappear without doing that?" He was half joking when he uttered it.

"Nope," she said gleefully.

"Yes, well…I don't exactly share that enthusiasm, however…"

The song ended.

Wolfram bowed to his lady, and escorted her back to her seat at the table where two little sour pusses sat. (They were still pouting at their confused "What did I do wrong this time?" fathers at the drinks table.)

Before he could turn around, he heard from behind, "Wolfram, can I speak with you in private?"

Broken, green eyes looked at him; a crooked smile returned.

Wolfram, who was on his brown horse, stopped to wave goodbye to Greta. She was standing on the balcony returning the happy wave. Yuuri placed himself dutifully by her side, stiff.

Onyx eyes watched him go.

He was alone again. To his knowledge, they both were.

Maybe, it was "forgiveness" that he was searching for. Maybe, it was "understanding" or a return to the close companionship that he once took for granted. Wolfram, for his part, had only danced around the issue of the apology—murmuring words like "needless" and "all in the past" in a decidedly light tone. And, even bowing down low with an "I'm sorry for the pain I caused you" didn't seem to work on the blond. He simply leaned down, too, to meet onyx eyes with "I see no point in this, Heika."

Yuuri expected a lecture from Wolfram—one on never bowing to someone below his station, or being a "wimp" and begging forgiveness was weak.

"Heika?" He keeps calling me that. Yuuri found himself frustrated after all of these humbling efforts, saying, "If you didn't want to make up, then why did you come?"

"For Greta, of course." Wolfram's grin became hard, defiant. "Because…I simply loved her more…than I hated you."