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It all started with those fateful words.
“Wolfram… Perhaps you should consider sleeping separately from His Majesty while the guests are here.”
I forgot who exactly said those words, because it felt as though everyone was thinking them. Gwendal, Conrad, Günter, even Yuuri himself…
No, not Yuuri. His Majesty.
“Wolfram, maybe you should refrain from calling His Majesty so intimately. It might give the guests the wrong impression.”
It’s not a guest, it’s freaking Saralegui. That brat has already seen everything there is to see about all of us, misunderstood whatever could be misunderstood, and manipulated the rest to his advantage.
But while he’s here as the king of Shou Shimaron, he is our guest, and must be respected as such. Even I know that.
And besides, I reason to myself reasonably, Yuuri is growing splendidly as king, so I should be careful not to harm his image and reputation…
Not Yuuri. His Majesty. I meant, His Majesty is a great king, and it’s about time I gave him the proper respect I would give my liege, by addressing him by his title instead of his name. As I always have.
Anyway, I understand that. I’m trying my hardest to change that. But old habits die hard, y’know?
So I decided that, until I can act like a proper vassal, who has sworn utmost loyalty to the king he always knew would be more than worthy, I’m just going to have to avoid embarrassing both him and myself in front of the… guest for now.
Gwendal looks up from his documents at me, then sighs. “Wolfram, whatever petty fight there was between you and His Majesty, shouldn’t it have blown over by now?”
“It’s not petty, and it’s not a fight.” I don’t understand why everyone must jump to conclusions like this. “It’s just that I decided I won’t stand by his side until I’m fully deserving to.”
Gwendal just sighs again, massaging his temple. “So you’re hiding from him. Fine. Do you think you could go hide somewhere else? You’re distracting me.”
“I’m not hi--” I pause, realizing that the document pile threatening to topple and bury him in paper actually started from the floor, and not the top of the table as I initially thought.
Poor Brother, I shake my head as I close the door behind me. It’s gotten even worse for him now that Yuur—His Majesty is tied up entertaining the guests. Caught up as I am in my thoughts, I close the door with a tad more force than necessary, but I’m sure that swoosh of what might sound like a paper avalanche must just be my imagination.
“Wolfram?”
“Lord Weller,” I nod solemnly at my second brother, only to see his expression fall abruptly. It suddenly looks like… how would Yuu—I mean, His Majesty describe it? As though he has ghost fires burning his eyebrows? “W-what’s the matter?”
“Ah, you’re all growing so fast… And not only won’t Wolfram call me ‘Little Big Bwather’ like you used to, now neither of you will even call me by my name anymore…”
He practically drifts past me like a vengeful spirit, though as I watch him leave I see him pit on a smile as soon as he encounters a servant along the hallways. Those little grievances were muttered more than said, but they can’t escape my ears.
‘Neither of you’? Now I’m curious. He must be talking about Yu—His Majesty. Argh, get it together, Wolfram! It’s just a title, how hard can it be to change?!
But come to think of it, it has been a long time since I saw His Majesty. I think the last time we properly talked was when I went to take my things out of our—his room, way back when Saralegui first arrived. Though we have bumped into each other in the hallways since then, he always had that brat king with him, so I had to be even more formal and stiff with him. It was honestly quite exhausting, so I won’t deny that I may have been trying to avoid the routes they may take recently.
Now that I’ve been chased out of Gwendal’s office, though, where should I go so that they won’t find me? I’ve starting to run out of hiding places here… Ah, there’s still that place where that person goes to hide, so it should be safe to assume they won’t go there?
Murata Ken is right where I thought he would be, in the secluded corner of the castle grounds that everyone recognizes as the Daikenja’s favorite haunt, and everyone agrees not to disturb. He’s not at all surprised to see me, though I am a bit surprised to see that he’s not alone.
“He~llo!”
“Gurrier? What are you doing here?”
“Having tea with me, of course.” Murata calmly takes a sip from his cup, flipping the page on an ancient leather-bound book that I vaguely remember was written by the first Daikenja. “I don’t know about you, but I find his presence quite refreshing.”
“Aww, I’m so flattered, Your Eminence~”
“Then, who’s with His Majesty?” I blurt out. I sensed something off when Conrad was wandering the hallways looking dejected, but I didn’t think they really would leave him alone…!
“His Majesty, you said… I see.” Murata shuts the book, putting down his tea. “Come on, Lord von Bielefeld, did you seriously think Shibuya would let Saralegui anywhere near Gurrier?”
“Sheesh, I told the Young Master he was worrying for nothing, if anything he should make sure not to leave the Shou Shimaron king with me~~ <3”
…Sorry for being slow, I agree wholeheartedly that they shouldn’t be kept within a hundred feet of each other.
“Ahh, geez, even the Little Lord Brat looks worried about me! How many times must I say it, I’m—completely—fine~”
“We know. It’s not your physical body that Shibuya is worried about, but the effect on your mind. He doesn’t want to bring back any bad memories for you, you see? Not just of Saralegui, but that brother of his who looks so similar, and did much worse things to you.”
“But Yuuri was tortured too!” I can’t help but say, almost shout. “There are bad memories for him too!”
I just remembered, Günter was tasked with negotiating trade deals with the rest of the Shou Shimaron envoy, so he really is—!
“You finally called him Yuuri again.” Murata’s eyes are invisible behind those mysterious glasses that seem to hide his expression whenever he wanted, but his lips are definitely smiling. “We weren’t that cruel to leave him completely alone with his tormenter. Lord Weller should be guarding him.”
“But he’s not! He’s haunting the hallways like a homeless ghost!”
“Ah, now I remember.” Gurrier taps his right fist into his left palm, the picture of someone who finally recalled the thing that was right on the tip of their tongue. “He was almost incoherently depressed because the Young Master corrected him when he called the Young Master by his name. Something like, ‘Call me Your Majesty, Lord Weller.’”
…Ouch.
“It was probably a mistake,” Murata says, still infuriatingly calm. “Or maybe not. Shibuya claims to have gotten over it, and he probably has, but I understand if he doesn’t want to put Lord Weller in a position where he may have to choose between Shibuya and Saralegui again, for Shibuya’s sake as well as Lord Weller’s.”
Come to think of it again, that trip to Seisakoku really messed everyone up, huh? I fall back into a chair with a groan. I always thought he deserved it, at least a bit, but to have his favorite godson say that to him—I feel bad for my little big brother, in spite of myself.
“…You still don’t get it.”
Murata sighs, sounding just like Gwen did just now. And for some reason that ticks me off. “Lord von Bielefeld, how long have you been running away from Shibuya?”
“I’m not--!”
“How long?”
“…Since Saralegui arrived.”
“That’s three weeks. I’d be impressed, if I didn’t feel so worried for Shibuya.”
“If you’re worried about him, then you should be there beside him! Didn’t you say you were never letting him out of your sight anymore?”
“Exactly. I’m fairly sure you’ve noticed, but I get a little… agitated around him. It’s not a good thing. I might do something rash, and he’ll never grow if I keep being overprotective. I’m trying to change, for him… just like you.”
“Your Eminence… would probably sound more convincing if you didn’t choose this spot because you know the Young Master passes by every morning, afternoon and evening on his way back to his room.”
“Hush, Gurrier. What I’m trying to say is, I trust him. As long as he’s within these castle walls, of course.”
“I think they went out to town today because the Shou Shimaron brat wanted a souvenir.”
“…I. Trust him. But anyway, you should go back to him quickly, Lord von Bielefeld.”
“Well, I trust him too.”
“Both of you are so bad at lying to yourselves, I don’t know if I should laugh or cry…” Gurrier looks like he’s going to laugh until he cries, though, and takes out his handkerchief to dab at the corners of his eyes. “Ah, the folly of youth…”
I point at him emotionlessly. “You call that refreshing?”
“As a matter of a fact, I do.” Murata is smiling, sincerely this time. “So maybe he’s a few screws loose, but we all agree he’s a real expert at defusing the atmosphere*, right? Besides, since he was raised outside of Shin Makoku, he’s one of the few people here who don’t treat me like a shadow of my predecessor.”
“Ahh, don’t talk about Gurrier in the third person like that~”
“Anyway, what I mean to say is that Shibuya needs you, Wolfram. Saralegui brings back memories about the worst time of his life. And the only one who could brighten his life now, is the one who brought light to it back then. You.”
His gaze is so solemn yet so hopeful, I have to turn away. “I’m not good enough yet. Even he’s trying his best to change for the better. I can’t go back to him until I’m sure.”
“If you’re talking about the title thing, don’t tell Lord Weller this, but I think Shibuya places some emphasis on his ‘Your Majesty’ when Saralegui is around*. Understandably. But aside from his godfather, you’re the only person in this world… no, in both worlds, who can call him simply Yuuri. And, sorry to Lord Weller, but you’re the only one ever that he expects to hear his name from*.”
“…But why? What about you, or his family?”
“Ah, it’s an Earth thing, I don’t expect you to understand.” As though it’s enough for him to concede that I’m important to Yuuri that way, he immediately takes one point back from me. “In short, where we come from, the first name is a sacred thing, and to call someone by their first name is either unbearably rude…”
“Hey, no one told me--!”
“…or it means that that person is very special to you, and vice versa.”
My words die in my throat.
“Do you see now, Lord von Bielefeld? He needs you.”
Murata drains his cup, and smiles at Gurrier, who refills it with all the flair and flamboyance of a professional cross-dressing barkeeper.
“He’s waiting for you.”
I understand now. I’d be an idiot if I didn’t.
As I stand waiting in front of his room, Murata’s last words still replay in my mind.
“Besides, it’s not about the title, or his reputation, or growing up, is it? You know how seeing him around Saralegui makes you feel, and you don’t like feeling that way. No, it’s not just that you don’t like the feeling, you don’t like the you that feels that way.”
So, yes, I’m jealous. I’m jealous and angry and a bit hurt, as though he betrayed me by just accepting the visit. But I know it’s not his fault, just as I know it’s ridiculous and childish to feel this way. That’s why I decided to stay away from him until I can get these feelings under control, as though by not seeing him I can somehow convince my heart to stop beating so hard for him.
Ah, as I thought, I really am too childish.
“Wolf?”
Here he comes… For a moment I don’t know how to face him. But running away doesn’t help anything, I figured out that much by now…
“Wolf!”
He’s running towards me, and I allow myself to hope that he might throw his arms around me or something. But his feet stop right in front of mine, his gaze boring into the top of my head. Slowly I raise my gaze…
He slaps me across the left cheek again.
` “This… is what you wanted, right? Ah, why does that make me sound like a domestic abuser… I mean, is this why you were avoiding me? Because you need acknowledgement?”
His hit doesn’t hurt, the stinging on my cheek isn’t even as bad as the stinging behind my eyes. I try to look at him, at the fiancé I haven’t looked at properly for three weeks, but my gaze is immediately pulled to something shiny on his chest. “That’s--!”
“It’s the brooch you gave me for my birthday, the golden brooch with the stone the same color as your eyes*,” he says quietly. “I’ve been wearing it these past few weeks, hoping to surprise you… Do you remember what you wrote on the note that came with it?”
I stare at it, at him. It looks as good as I thought it would on him—no, better. But I’m sure the feeling he’s giving me now, as though he’s grown years in just these few weeks, isn’t all due to a single brooch.
“’To my lord and only companion.’”
“Precisely. I’ll never forget those words, Wolf. Conrad told me, there’s a very fine line between the two. Personally I would rather you just be my companion, but I know it’s impossible to ask you to stop treating me as your king. I won’t insult your oath of fealty that way. I just hope, that if you ever find yourself having to choose, you… you would choose to make me your companion rather than your lord.”
“Yuuri…”
“I-I’ve been thinking a lot about this, and i-if you still want, I w-was thinking we could give it a try… Ah, it’s so hard to say something like this, why don’t you have a locker I can leave pink letters in…”
“What are you…”
“What I’m trying to say is,” he takes a deep breath, “Senpa—Wolfram, will you go out with me? And that’s not an order from your king, but from your fiancé… Eh? Come to think of it, why am I only asking you out now after we got engaged?”
Oh, Yuuri… I hide my chuckle in my fist. “Just so you remember, I never wanted this when you first proposed to me.” Before he can react, I fall to one knee. “Yes, Your Majesty!”
“Wolf, that’s not--!”
And then I leap to my feet and wrap my arms around as tightly as I can, to try and express even a fraction of the happiness I feel—
“Thank you, Yuuri!”
“So, I just want to make it clear to everyone, Yuuri is my lord in the court and my companion in bed!”
Hm? That doesn’t sound quite like how I imagined it…
“W-Wolf…”
The silence is shocked, almost scandalous… I finally realize what I really said, all the blood rushing to my face.
Beside me, Yuuri bursts out laughing for the first time in weeks. Saralegui and his ministers stare disbelievingly, Conrad and the others smile, Murata and Gurrier exchange knowing glances. And then, to everyone’s surprise, most of all our own—
Yuuri pulls me down and kisses my cheek.