To Turn the Other Cheek
part threeWolfram stood in his older brother’s office with a solemn expression on his beautiful face. His green eyes rested half closed with a weary sort of pain that came with the feelings of loss and futility. His mouth was drawn thin as though the thoughts in his head were so numerous he had to strain to hear each one coherently and no amount of grooming could hide the dark circles that marred his face from the nights of unrest such thoughts brought. It was a look Gwendel had grown accustomed to since the time of their king’s absence though it annoyed both men of action that it was still present now with his return.
“I would ask that you not hold your emotions back,” Gwendel said simply. “You are not a tactful man and I do not believe anyone expects you to take this gracefully. If you are unhappy it is best to say so and have done with it.”
Wolfram stared at his beloved brother’s desk without the slightest flicker of life across his face. “If I were to scream, I would not be able to stop. As his subject, it should be more your concern that your king is now happy with this arrangement.”
“He will not be so pleased when he is told of this.”
Wolfram saw the papers his brother made motion to but made no action to read or acknowledge them. He knew very well what they said. It was he who had handed the papers to Gwendel in the first place.
A request for reassignment.
“That’s because he’s a wimp and an idiot,” Wolfram said flatly, aware that his brother was looking at him harshly. “He has no need for me here. His powers far exceed my own, Conrad is all the steel he will ever need at his side, you are the one he comes to for advice on how to handle sensitive situations, Gunter teaches him everything else relevant to our country. There’s no reason for me to stay here.”
“You underestimate your importance.” Gwendel stood and turned, facing the window behind him. “The king looks to you for companionship, as you are identifiable as being of his age. Being able to relate to you makes you important to the success of his rein.”
“He has the Great Sage, Conrad and Greta if he wants companionship,” Wolfram spat. “I am a full-blooded mazoku soldier with a contract with the flames. I will not stoop to becoming a mere playmate for a child king. Let me go where I am needed. Put me on the border where I can actually be of service to my country!”
Gwendel stood in silence, back turned to the blonde whose hands shook in balled fists.
“I will not accept your request.”
“...What?”
“Your place is at your king’s side.”
There was silence between them, heavy like a set of arms and twice as sharp. Wolfram crossed steadily to him, taking into his trembling fists a handful of moss green overcoat. Gwendel did not turn to him but let his arm hang limply beside him within his brother’s grasp.
“For me, then. Brother, please.” Wolfram’s voice was not as steady now, full of desperation and fear. “Now that he’s free there will be marriage prospects which he will entertain. I can’t watch that. I won’t. I can accept that he won’t be mine in time but I can not accept that he may become someone else’s, not ever.”
Gwendel nodded slightly, his head bowed to the sunlight. “So, that is your true reason for this request.” There was no uncertainty in his question.
“They’re both applicable. I want to serve Yuri in any way I can. But it will kill me to watch him flirt with women so openly.”
Wolfram leaned his forehead on his brother’s arm, eyes squeezed tight to try and block out the images that came to mind. Behind closed lids he could see the hordes of noble men that had flocked to court to impress his mother. How she delighted in their attention, laughing and blushing at their advances, forgetting her stately position in the mist of her lusting heart. To see Yuri sitting on his throne with a plague of women displaying their robust chests for him in their elegant clothes, hoping to attract the slightest bit more attention than their competition made his stomach churn with disgust. No woman deserved to marry Yuri. For his kindness and thoughtfulness, he meant more to his kingdom than could be handed over to some greedy female with delusions of grandeur. To be married to the king, to have all the status and power of the position in addition to being loved more than everyone else by the king, was too great an honor to be given so easily.
Such a gift could only be earned and no one would ever be good enough in his eyes. No one save himself and that door had been closed.
“...I will send message to the troops at the southern border to prepare for your arrival.”
A genuine smile crept upon Wolfram’s face, a swift rush of relief from the burden he felt coursing through his veins. He let go of his sleeve, standing a bit taller, moving aside from the taller man respectfully. “Thank you, brother.”
“Wolfram.” Gwendel turned to him, hand clasped on his smaller shoulder. “Do not despise his highness for the hurt you feel. For what’s taken place, you are a better man for it.”
Wolfram’s eyes were cold again. “You wouldn’t say such things if you were me.”
The eldest brother shook his head and sat back into his comfortable chair. In ink black as the Maou, he scribed his name on the parchment given to him by Wolfram. “I know nothing about affairs of the heart. But I have known the boy who was my selfish brother and I am proud to know the man he has become. That is something I credit his highness with, no matter how things have changed.”
The blonde nodded mutely, watching as his brother signed the document and with it granted him the power to escape. It was not in his nature to run. To fight to the bloody end had always been his intention. With a sword or with his heart, he had never imagined backing down from what he set his mind too.
How could one wimp mean so much? More than life, pride, dignity, or anything that granted him pleasure.
Wolfram paused for a moment, thinking back to the previous night in the bath where he’d had his first encounter with the indescribable nature of sex. No matter what, he had left his mark on the life of the king. In that, he had not backed down.
“You will tell Yuri for me, then.”
Gwendel shook his head in displeasure. “It would be in bad taste to leave without notice. He should hear it from you.”
“I leave immediately. I’ve already packed,” Wolfram informed him. In fact, he’d spent most of the night gathering the items he would want with him and readying them at the stables for a hasty departure. There were things best to leave unspoken and at times like this, there were things best to avoid altogether.
“Then you are also leaving without speaking to Conrad or Greta?”
“Greta has Yuri right now,” Wolfram reminded him. “When Yuri decides to visit his other home, send word to me and I will come to take care of my daughter. It is not goodbye. As for Conrad, he’ll want me to stay. I don’t have the patience to explain myself to both of you. You can inform him of my wishes and reasoning if he asks.”
“You are acting in cowardice.”
“I am acting in self defense!”
Gwendel stared at his brother in slight surprise at his outburst. It was comforting, though, to hear it from him. If he could still snap at him, there was hope he would overcome his current feelings. “Very well. I will make your excuses this time. You will however be in attendance for his majesty's coming of age ceremony and I will expect you to entertain any further questions from them at that time.”
Wolfram nodded, bowing slightly to the dark haired man. “If there is nothing further then, brother, I will take my leave.”
Gwendel held out to him the generic notice that stated his business in the parts he would travel. The youngest took it from him and folded it into fourths, sliding it behind the leather of his belt. As he lifted his head, he saw something else extended towards him in his brother’s strong hands. It was a strange looking creature made of knitted wool, with thin pointed ears and evil looking eyes.
“It’s a penguin,” he explained, sounding a bit annoyed. “Take care, Wolfram.”
Wolfram took it carefully from him and held it in his fist. “You as well, Brother. Thank you.”
He turned his back and quickly left the room, hurrying to the stables where his horse waited for him. He thought about his new assignment with a less than enthusiastic anticipation. It would be dull but better would come, he was sure. Being on the border would take him far away. From there, should there be a need for a delegate, perhaps his location would make him first in line to be sent even further. There were plenty human and mazoku villages squabbling with the remnants of prejudice from the past ages to deal with for the time being, beasts to slay, perhaps covert operations that would send him undercover should intelligence advise such action. There would be no time to think about Yuri there. He could work himself to exhaustion in the daylight and sleep well through the nights to keep the nightmares and memories of Yuri and home away.
Wolfram ran his hand along the cool stone walls of the hallway as he walked, saying goodbye to what had been his home before memory served, long before Yuri had arrived. He’d spent most of his childhood behind these walls while his mother ruled as Queen. These were the grounds he’d played on, learned to use a sword, ride a horse. These were the balconies he’d stood on, watching his brothers grow in the time of war into important people to their country; Gwendel the wise and Conrad the brave. He worshiped them and their success while he'd remained simply Wolfram the beautiful.
One wasn't made beautiful by courageous actions or intelligent moves, though. One was born beautiful. Perhaps a woman of noble breeding would find being defined by her looks to be the most prestigious of all, but as a soldier it was insulting, much more so than Wolfram the spoiled brat, Wolfram the selfish loafer or Wolfram the stubborn stalker. These were at least things he had earned though his actions, as much as he despised them. It would be his great pleasure to make another name for himself, one that was favorable to him and with tales of his deeds to back up such a boastful reputation.
There were no more wars to fight though, no need for heroes, and Wolfram the 27th Maou’s fiancé, favored above all others, had never truly existed.
Wolfram pressed on to the courtyard, pleased to find Conrad absent from the grounds. No one, in fact, was there to see him off. The Maou had returned only two days earlier and the castle still buzzed with that excitement. There were a few guards at post, none who cared all that much who left the castle so long as no one unwanted came in.
Bags settled along the saddle, Wolfram hung the small penguin from the side, pinning it there as a good luck charm for the road ahead. As his horse trotted past the front gates and flew down the winding trail, not a single voice called out. He willed the horse to fly, to carry him away faster than the wind that blew over them. With every step that pounded against the dirt road he was that much further away from the world he knew.
He’d never left Shin Makoku faster and for a moment the emptiness faded as he raced forward to the horizon and to whatever hope could be found there.