Title: Skies of Cloud and Thunder
Category: drama, angst
Rating: PG
Summary: Yuuri starts getting marriage proposals from other kingdoms, making for one huge mess between him, Wolfram, and the entire castle. Tons of angst. Takes place after the series (no blatant spoilers for the end of the series, because I haven’t seen it either).
Disclaimer: KKM is not mine and I’m making no money off this. I do it for love of the characters
Acknowledgements: GreenFire originally owned this plot bunny, but after a night of brainstorming, it became mine. She helped come up with a lot of the plotline, theme, and some of the important points.
Rain pattered steadily on the glass window separating Yuuri from the rest of the
world, a strangely comforting sound despite the fact it was a direct cause of him being
cooped up inside all day. He sat with his chin
on his hand, watching beads of water form and slide down the pane of colored glass,
infinitely distracted from the things he should have been doing. He couldn’t help it, there was just something
about the sound of falling rain that evoked sentiment in him, or maybe nostalgia. Perhaps it was because the elegant windows of
“Ah, does it?” Yuuri turned around to find Wolfram still sitting with his head down, concentrating on the book in his lap. “I guess that’s good for the flowers and plants. It doesn’t rain every day, does it?”
“No. Only most of them.” A slight smile curved Wolfram’s lips as he sat there reading. “You won’t be able to go outside as often. You’ll just have to spend your days here in the castle with me.”
“Better you than Günter.” Since Yuuri’s recent return, Günter had been unbearably clingy, torn between fretting that he would forget them if he spent too much time home on Earth and overjoyed that Yuuri chose to remain Maou. While he liked Günter, there was only so much gushing and doting Yuuri could take. Fortunately, right now he was occupied with castle business elsewhere, or else he might have been alternately lecturing Yuuri about staying current with his duties and swooning over any little decision or proclamation the young king might make. Wolfram was good, silent company by comparison. Yuuri turned around in his chair and leaned his elbows on his desk, sighing over the pile of letters awaiting his attention. He’d only gotten through half of them before being distracted by the sudden rattle of raindrops on the window. “Do I really have to answer all of these?” he complained.
Wolfram glanced up from his book. “You’re the Maou,” he reminded. “You don’t have to do anything. But anyone with half a brain and the tiniest sense of decorum would know that it’s proper to send a response even if you have nothing to say.” He sniffed insolently and put his head back down. “I wouldn’t expect you to have been properly trained in etiquette where you come from. People in your world have no sense of manners.”
“I don’t even know any of these people,” Yuuri said with a pout, picking up one of the letters he had opened earlier and thrown aside. “They’re just…fan letters! People writing to the Maou because they can. I don’t have time to write a personal response to every one of these.” He eyed the stack growing on the corner of his desk. At least Günter had done him a courtesy and sorted them between nobles and regular folk – somehow, he understood that it would be prudent to at least see what the nobles had to say, since they had the money and the clout around the kingdom. Not to mention, the pile from nobles was smaller.
“You have all the time you could possibly need,” Wolfram said, sounding bored. “What else are you going to do? Things have settled down. Peace is holding. There’s no reason for you to go gallivanting across the countryside on some fool adventure. Give yourself a few days to just sit there and write, ‘Thank you for your kind correspondence, I wish you and your family well, sincerely, Maou Yuuri.’”
“I need a stamp,” Yuuri decided, sitting up a little, “that I can just stamp my name on form letters. Celebrities do that. I could totally do that.”
“Idiot.” Wolfram cast him an annoyed look. “Your royal crest won’t be prepared until you come of age. Until then, you have to be content with signing your name.”
“Oh…that’s right!” Yuuri had completely forgotten about it. “I can just stamp my seal on letters, and decrees and everything!” He gave Wolfram a flippant grin. “That’s not that far away, you know. I’ll be sixteen very soon.”
“Good. Maybe then you’ll be adult enough to take some of your responsibilities seriously.” Wolfram very nearly added, “Like our engagement,” but didn’t. He was happy to have Yuuri back, and things back to normal, he figured he could let one little reminder of their bond go unspoken. There were plenty of opportunities for him to needle Yuuri about it on any given day, anyway.
Groaning, Yuuri went back to poking through the letters, using the sword-shaped letter opener on his desk to slit them or break their seals so he could at least glance through them and find out who they were from. Most of the time, he had to ask Wolfram if he had heard of this or that family, as it seemed just about everybody in Shin Makoku had some kind of gentrified title they could flaunt in official correspondence with the king. Just when he was about to give up and go back to watching it rain, the door on the far side of the room opened and Murata breezed in as if he belonged there, grinning broadly. “How goes the mail, Shibuya?” he said cheerfully as he crossed to the desk.
Yuuri shot him a look of pure annoyance. “Did you come all the way down here from the temple just to gloat?”
“No. I’m bored.” Murata shrugged and stuck his hands in his trouser pockets. “I thought maybe I’d have some fun poking at you for a while. Günter said you were in here reading the letters that came in while we were gone.”
Yuuri made a face at the pile of half-opened letters on his desk. “I ought to have Günter answer these for me when I’m gone. But of course, when I suggested that to him, he got all scandalized and said the Maou should never allow someone of less importance to look at his personal mail.” He tossed another one aside and looked helplessly up at Murata. “And I can’t find any other excuse not to do it, because it’s raining and there’s nothing else to do.”
“Yeah, it sure is the rainy season,” Murata mused, looking past him out the window streaked with raindrops. “It’s going to be like this till summer. Until your sixteenth birthday,” he added with a grin. “You’re coming of age really soon, Shibuya.”
“I know,” Yuuri said, glad to have been reminded of it yet again. “It’s kind of nice, not having to wait
until I’m twenty like back home in
Murata gestured toward the stack of letters. “Even better, pretty soon you’re going to start getting marriage proposals.”
Yuuri frowned in confusion. Beyond them, Wolfram looked up sharply. “Marriage proposals?” Yuuri repeated. “What do you mean?”
“Once word gets out that the Maou is about to come of age, all the eligible noblewomen here and abroad will want their chance at becoming Queen,” Murata said with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows. “You’re going to get a lot more interesting mail coming across your desk.”
“Yuuri is already spoken for,” Wolfram curtly reminded him. “There will be no proposals.”
Glancing briefly at him, Yuuri wasn’t sure whether he should stop Murata right there or indulge his curiosity. “You know,” he said warily, “I’m not so sure about that. I remember what happened the last time someone tried to bring a proposal to me. It ended badly. Very badly.” He looked away grouchily. “Though I guess it’s not my fault everybody involved had ulterior motives.”
“Oh, they all do,” Murata said airily. “You think any of the nobles who would propose marriage to you would actually do it for love?” He grinned sadistically. “Sorry, Shibuya, but that’s the way it goes. You’re the Maou. Anyone who marries you gets to be big cheese, and they all know it. They’ll peck each other’s eyes out for the chance at your power and status.” He shrugged. “Happens all the time. Any noble without a chance in hell of inheriting any estate or title or anything has no hope except to marry up, and there’s no higher station than being married to the Maou.”
Yuuri stared at him, and then chanced a quick look at Wolfram. The young nobleman was glaring at Murata, but trying to hide behind his book at the same time. Yuuri’s brief interest in being courted by ladies from all over the kingdom and beyond faded quickly at the thought of their true motives. “Then, I guess it’s hopeless,” he sighed. “I’m not going to marry somebody who’s only interested in my status.”
“Of course you won’t,” Murata said knowingly. “But that doesn’t mean you won’t get the chance to meet an awful lot of pretty girls. And some not-so-pretty ones. Maybe some men, too.” He grinned and turned away, in the other direction as if able to sense the fire of Wolfram’s glare on his back. “Consider this a friendly warning. Whether or not you want it, it’s going to happen sooner or later. The closer you get to being sixteen, the worse it’s going to be.”
“Great.” Yuuri hid his head in his hand, trying to think of some way to change the subject before Wolfram burst a blood vessel from the effort of holding in his outrage. “What about you? Doesn’t being Great Sage get you any perks?”
“I get to stand at your side and look at all the pretty ladies coming to meet you,” Murata beamed.
“You’re so much help,” Yuuri groaned. He hunted around his desk and found the baseball he had brought from home as a memento, and threw it at Murata to see if it would either distract him or actually hit him. Murata yelped and lunged to catch it, rather than dodge it, and then laughed some more. Yuuri found himself beginning to smile. “Don’t you have some Sage work to do or something? Unless you’re going to help me write thank-you notes to all these people, you’re just making this take longer.”
Murata idly tossed the ball in the air and caught it, carefully so as not to threaten any windows. “I don’t think you want me writing thank-you notes to stuck-up noblemen.”
“You’re probably right.” The young king picked up the next one on the stack and glanced at it before prying off the seal, recognizing the crest as having come from Caloria. He unfolded it to find a smooth, flowing hand, with something of a feminine flourish, and realized a couple of lines in that it was from a friend. He sat up in interest. “Hey…this one’s from Lady Flurin.”
Still tossing the ball to himself, Murata glanced idly aside. “Oh?”
Wolfram also looked up from his reading. “What does she have to say?”
“It sounds like everything is Caloria is going okay,” Yuuri reported, summarizing the first paragraph of pleasantries. “That’s good. Oh…she’s heard about my upcoming birthday.” As they watched him read, they saw his face suddenly fall, and his eyes grow wide. Almost without thinking, he began to read aloud as if to make sure he was correctly interpreting the Mazoku lettering. “’It seems to me that both our countries could benefit from an alliance formed by marriage…’ Marriage?! ‘I am not of an appropriate age and a widow, but there is a young woman related to me who will soon be eligible and would make a proper wife. I wish to introduce you, or at your consent, direct her father to write you with a proposal.’ What in the…?” He looked up and stared hard at Murata. “Is this what you’re talking about? People are going to start coming out of the woodwork with marriage offers?”
“First one,” Murata complimented. “Way to go.”
“Murata!” Yuuri noticed Wolfram’s green eyes burning again. He quickly read over the rest of the letter, but there wasn’t much beyond the offer to note. He read it over again and then sighed. “This is so weird. I mean, I like Lady Flurin, she’s nice. But…she’s trying to marry off one of her cousins or something? What does that mean, an alliance formed by marriage?”
Murata glanced briefly at Wolfram, but hid his reaction to the seething look on the young noble’s face under his aloof Sage attitude. “Oh, that’s even better,” he said understandingly. “Sometimes, if there’s a chance war could break out with one of our neighbors, one of the ways to make peace is through a political marriage. It still wouldn’t mean anything, unless you happened to start liking the girl, but the marriage would unite two countries where a regular peace treaty might not hold.”
Yuuri did his best to try to think about that. “But…Caloria is already one of our allies. And a pretty good one, at that.”
“But they don’t have a lot of strength,” Murata mused, stroking his chin. “Lady Flurin doesn’t think herself a capable ruler and would like to step down, and choose someone else to be her successor. If she chooses a relative with an eligible daughter, then sometime in the future when they really need it, Caloria would have a certain ‘in’ with the Maou.” He smiled to himself. “Very crafty, my lady. Very crafty indeed.”
Wolfram suddenly slammed his book shut. “It’s all moot because Yuuri is already engaged,” he said firmly, trying to keep his voice low and in control. “There will be no political marriages, no arranged marriages of any kind. And that is final.” He pushed himself out of the chair and stormed across the room, blustering out and letting the door slam behind him.
Yuuri winced at the noise. Murata just shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt to find out if she’s pretty,” he said casually, resuming tossing the baseball in the air.
Shaking his head, Yuuri put the letter down and pushed the pile away from him for now. That unexpected offer was not something he could handle right away, he needed time to think about it before forming a response and writing back. Yes, he was engaged…but Murata was the Great Sage, maybe he was right. Maybe someone else in the castle with less of an emotional investment in it would have better advice. Whatever the case, Yuuri resolved to take care of it later. Right now, he was too startled to even think about writing thank-you notes to his fans, and rose from his chair. “C’mon, I need to get out of here and take a walk or something. I hate being stuck inside all day. Let’s go…I don’t know, drop water balloons off the highest tower or something.”
Murata gave him a puzzled look as he came around the desk and started for the door. “But we don’t have any water balloons.”
“I’m sure we’ll think of something.” Anything was preferable to sitting there in the study, alone or with Wolfram’s accusing eyes on him, trying to force his way through the mail. Not after that shock. After that, Yuuri could have found himself swarmed by kohi or fed to dragons and wouldn’t have minded.
For the rest of the day, Yuuri did his best to put the letter from Caloria out of
his mind by hunting for entertainment and letting himself be goaded into harmless pranks
by Murata. Unfortunately, there weren’t
any good targets – Günter could never be offended by anything the Maou did to him,
Konrad would laugh it off good-naturedly, and Gwendal…well, they knew better than to
piss off Gwendal. Circumstances sent them in
different directions before they could get into any actual trouble, Murata back to
Yuuri cringed and nearly dropped his teacup. “Uh…well,” he began, aware of a circle of intent faces waiting on his reply, “most of it, no. Just a lot of…you know. Letters of appreciation. Honestly, Günter…” He turned to the counselor seated a few chairs to his left. “…I think it would be good if you were to at least go through and open all the post while I’m gone, because there was an invitation in there to some kind of hunting party at an estate up near Rochefort that I totally missed the chance to go to. It was three weeks ago, and I didn’t even read the invitation until today. I hope the family isn’t upset with me that I never replied to their letter,” he said sheepishly. “It isn’t my fault I didn’t get it in time.”
“But, your Majesty,” Günter said modestly, “that is your personal correspondence. I have no right to even view it.”
“It’s not like there’s any kind of big secrets in there,” Yuuri laughed. “I just don’t want to offend anyone by not responding to their invitations. You have my permission, Günter. You can open it all and just make sure there isn’t anything urgent, and if something like that comes up again, just jot them a letter to say that I’m away on business or something and will try to make it if I’m back in time. It’s common courtesy, you know,” he added prudently.
“You do have a point,” Günter admitted. “Very well, your Majesty. I will see to it that none of your admirers are offended by a late reply.”
“I’m sure the party’s hosts will understand that you’ve been away and only recently returned,” Konrad said to put Yuuri at ease. “They may have simply become used to you being available, as we had.”
“Yeah, it did seem like everybody treated me pretty much like a king ought to be,” Yuuri noted. “Big flowery letters full of nothing, just trying to bend my ear or get my attention so they can maybe find favor with me. I’m not used to it.” He set his cup down and lowered his gaze to his half-eaten dessert. “There was one letter…”
The faces stared at him again, making him want to shrink down and slide under the table so he could crawl away. He glanced aside at Wolfram, but the young nobleman showed no signs of reacting, even though he had been there and knew exactly which letter to which Yuuri was referring. Too bad Murata was back up at the temple as usual, he could have broken the ice better. “Yes, what is it, your Majesty?” Konrad prompted.
“Well…” Yuuri glanced at Wolfram again and decided to just say it. “Lady Flurin wrote me, from Caloria.”
“Oh, how is Lady Flurin?” Cheri gushed from across the table. “I do adore her so much, she’s so very sweet.”
“Uh, fine, I guess,” Yuuri replied. “But she…she said she had an offer for me, on account of me turning sixteen pretty soon. A…marriage offer.”
Around him, eyes widened, all except for Wolfram’s. Lady Cheri suddenly clapped her hands together in delight. “A marriage offer from Lady Flurin!” she exclaimed. “How wonderful, your Majesty!”
“No, no, it’s not from her,” Yuuri quickly assured. “She, uh…she said she had an eligible relative she wanted to introduce to me. Someone’s daughter, I guess. Don’t get me wrong,” he added with a sheepish grin, “I like Lady Flurin. She’s very nice. But she is a lot older than I am.”
“Not a wise position for a Mazoku to put himself in,” Gwendal murmured half to himself. “Marrying a human woman more than twice his age.”
“All the more reason for Lady Flurin to wisely suggest someone more His Majesty’s age,” Günter put in.
“What is she like? Is she pretty?” Cheri pressed.
“I…I don’t know!” Yuuri stammered. “It wasn’t an offer, just an offer of an offer. She wanted my permission to let the girl’s father write me about it. There wasn’t a picture or anything, she didn’t even tell me her name.”
Konrad smiled amicably at him. “Now that you’re close to coming of age, offers like this will begin to come in.”
“Yeah, that’s what Murata said.” Yuuri sighed and stared down at his plate again. “I’m just not sure what to think, is all. I mean…if I let one person write to me and propose, it’s going to encourage more of them.”
“Isn’t that romantic?” Cheri swooned, lacing her fingers together before her. “Secret admirers from all over the kingdom, and even beyond our borders, writing you to declare their love!”
Yuuri rolled his eyes. “It’s nothing like that. The girl doesn’t even know me. It wasn’t an admirer…” He glanced around, to the wise Mazoku who formed his panel of advisors: Gwendal, Günter, and Konrad. “Lady Flurin suggested a political marriage. To unite our countries.”
The three elder men gazed at him in interest, while Lady Cheri and Anissina looked at each other curiously. Only Wolfram kept his head down, and on his other side, Greta went about her cake as if it was the only important thing in the world. “I see,” Günter said after a moment. “An arranged marriage to solidify the alliance between Shin Makoku and Caloria.”
Yuuri gave him a worried look. “Do those kinds of things happen?”
Günter looked surprised for a moment, and then grew pensive. “It isn’t unheard of, but they’re not as popular as they were in the past. Before the war twenty years ago, political marriage was all the rage to try to keep fragile alliances holding in the face of uncertainty. There hasn’t been one across national borders in a very long time, and I shall have to look deeper to uncover whether there has ever been an instance of the Maou agreeing to a political marriage for the sake of stability or mutual benefit.”
“These days, it’s more likely you’ll find arranged marriages such as these between noble houses within the country,” Konrad explained. “To settle a debt, arrange a partnership, or otherwise unite two houses under a common thread where more traditional arrangements weren’t working.”
“The suggestion from a human territory that the Maou marry a human woman is outrageous,” Gwendal put in, looking grouchy. “It goes in the face of many deeply-held beliefs and traditions among us.”
“But if I’d never come here or learned I was the Maou, I would have probably married a human girl anyway,” Yuuri reasoned. “I don’t care if someone is human or Mazoku or half-and-half. That doesn’t bother me.”
“His Majesty is more permissive on such matters, Gwendal,” Konrad reminded his elder brother. “And considering the nature of the conflicts still remaining, a political marriage between the Maou and a human noblewoman might go a long way toward setting an example for others to follow. It could break down all the barriers between humans and Mazoku that still remain.”
“That’s all well and good-sounding,” Wolfram suddenly broke in, his voice showing the strain of holding in his anger, “but in the end it doesn’t make a difference. Yuuri is already engaged, so entertaining the notion of any kind of arranged marriage is pointless.”
“Now, Wolfram,” Günter gently scolded, “these are matters of the future of Shin Makoku and the stability of the entire world. We’d do well to discuss them rationally.”
“We shouldn’t be discussing them at all,” Wolfram seethed. “Yuuri is in no position to field any offers from anyone, political or not. We have perfectly good treaties already, Caloria’s alliance with us is just fine the way it is.”
“He does have a point,” Konrad conceded. “Of all the human nations making alliances with us toward peace, Caloria is the last one I would suggest needs help. Their loyalty to the Maou is unshakable.”
“But as a nation, they are small and weak,” Günter pointed out. “And Lady Flurin may not remain in power there much longer. While the alliance is strong now, it may not remain so in the future. Perhaps the proposal is intended to look ahead to rockier times when they might need it.”
“It would hardly be a surprise,” Lady Cheri reasoned, a sly smile on her full lips. “It’s been a very long time indeed since Shin Makoku had such a young, handsome, virile king on the throne. His very existence invites his allies to want to strengthen their bond with us through marriage.”
Yuuri’s face twisted uncomfortably. Virile? “Unless,” he tried to counter with a weak laugh, “humans see it with the same kind of offense that Gwendal mentioned. Like, how dare a human woman let herself be married off to the Maou?”
“You’re talking about this as if it were a plan set in motion!” Wolfram raged, clenching his hands into fists on the table. “There will be no political marriage! You are already engaged – to me!” He sent a glare around the table. “Something a number of people here have conveniently forgotten!”
“Hm, yes, that is true,” his mother mused. Then a brilliant smile broke out on her face. “But engaged isn’t the same as married! There is just enough time, your Majesty, to have a look around and see if anyone interests you.”
“Perhaps it is something we shouldn’t discourage,” Günter said sagaciously, across the table to Konrad and Gwendal. “In these times, it would be a means of gauging the stability of some of those alliances and determining whether there is anything His Majesty can do to reach out to our human allies.”
Wolfram shot up out of his chair so quickly that the backs of his knees knocked it over. “I don’t have to sit here and listen to this!” he snapped at everyone present. “If you want to go on and insult me, do it behind my back, please!” He stormed off around the table, fists still rigidly clenched at his sides.
The mental vision of himself melting into a puddle and oozing away unnoticed under
the table came to Yuuri again. The others
glanced at Wolfram’s retreat and more or less shrugged it off. “It would be nice to see just how open the
human territories are to the concept of humans and Mazoku mingling,” Anissina decided
to add to the conversation. “When
treaties are signed and alliances are made, they can say one thing to the Maou’s face
and believe the opposite among their own people.”
“Perhaps then, we should wait and see if any other human nations are willing
to offer political marriage,” Günter suggested.
“That some proposals should come from other noble houses in Shin Makoku is
understood, but it’s the ones from outside our borders that interest me.”
“Your Majesty,” Cheri said in her most efficacious tone, “I think it would be splendid if you wrote Lady Flurin and told her to introduce you to this nice young lady she knows. She might be very nice. Too bad it isn’t Lady Flurin herself,” she added with a pout to herself. “She’s so sweet and kind. So strong, to lead her people the way she does.”
Yuuri stared at her, unsure he was hearing this properly. Was Lady Cheri actively ignoring her own son and encouraging Yuuri to cheat on him? To his dismay, Günter added his support to the idea. “Yes, your Majesty. Do write Lady Flurin and ask her to set the proposal in motion. We can’t properly judge the value of an arranged marriage between Shin Makoku and Caloria without knowing what we are being offered.”
“She may not be Miss Shin Makoku,” Cheri put in, “but she may still be pretty.”
“Well…” Yuuri found he didn’t know what to say about that. A small grain of curiosity in his nature told him that part made sense. But the overwhelming discomfort he felt drowned it out. He glanced at the empty chair beside him, and Greta sitting on the other side blinking at him, not understanding a word of the adult discussion.
“You aren’t accepting any proposals, your Majesty,” Konrad said gently, seeing the conflict on the young king’s face. “It is merely a chance to gauge everything and weigh it rationally against the good of the kingdom and your own feelings.”
“Feelings hardly matter in the case of a political marriage,” Gwendal grunted.
“Well, yes. That’s true.”
“I do have to write Lady Flurin back,” Yuuri mumbled, rubbing his forehead where a headache was starting to come on. “It’s only proper.” He pushed himself away from the table and got up, giving his table companions a quick look. “If you’ll excuse me. I think I…I need to go think about something else for a while. I need time to let this all sink in.”
“Can I come too?” Greta nudged her chair away from the table, with the help of one of the maids who came to her side instantly.
The little girl’s cheery voice put a weak smile on Yuuri’s face. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” he decided, reaching to take Greta’s hand. “Let’s go take a walk, shall we, Greta?”
The others remained seated out of respect while the young king guided his adopted daughter out to the rest of the castle proper. Only then did they give each other keen, pointed looks. “I don’t know,” Konrad said warily. “Accepting a political marriage may be more trouble to us than it would be worth. At the moment, Shin Makoku has nothing to gain from any suitors…”
“Except a perfectly lovely Queen,” Cheri finished for him.
“If we encourage the search,” Gwendal mused dubiously, “we may find that some of our allies and even enemies are willing to sacrifice some woman’s future for the sake of having the position of preference with the Maou. I do not want to see wars break out over which one of them is going to be favored by the Maou and have that bargaining chip against all the others.”
“To say nothing of the wars that will break out among the women, when they come clamoring to meet him,” Anissina said slyly.
“Rather than encourage,” Günter murmured, “I say we simply do not discourage. His Majesty is close to his coming-of-age. These offers will come in whether we encourage them or not. If word gets out among potential courtiers that a human nation has already proposed, the others will follow, and show us by their actions what their true intentions are.”
“Ah, yes,” Lady Cheri said knowingly. “Since His Majesty intends to write Lady Flurin with a proper response anyway. Word will get out, without us having to lift a finger.”
Gwendal sighed and kneaded his forehead. “The next few weeks are going to be a nightmare.”
Yuuri had not heard Gwendal’s prophecy, but he found himself agreeing with it very quickly. He had sat down the following day to write Lady Flurin a cordial response, and while it was hard to write the words, he forced himself to allow her permission to open a dialogue between him and the relative whose daughter they wanted to set him up with. Yet, no sooner had it been sent away by courier, and the other offers began. As expected, the first few were from noblemen and gentry within Shin Makoku, merely inquiring whether His Majesty was open to the idea of meeting their daughters and sisters and cousins in the hopes of striking it off and making an arrangement. Then, came the others; letters and portraits from the countries bordering Shin Makoku, blunt proposals and shameless offers of dowries that included promises of fealty and trade agreements. It was as if a world of spies had seen the letter land on Flurin’s desk and immediately provoked every other ally to ante up their own proposals. At least one letter per day, by Yuuri’s count, for two full weeks. At first, he wanted to keep Wolfram from seeing any of them, but he quickly discovered that that would be impossible. Wolfram knew about this clandestine plan to field marriage proposals, so every day when the post arrived, and every time a special courier appeared at the castle gates, he was there, arms folded, eyes dark, waiting to see what Yuuri would discover. His only response, apart from a general air of irritation, was to remind Yuuri curtly of his engagement and stalk off somewhere to brood. After doing this in front of Günter one day, he found himself being sternly reprimanded. “Your Excellency,” Günter huffed in displeasure, making Wolfram stare at the use of his formal title, “might I remind you that these affairs are far more important to the future of Shin Makoku than your personal feelings? Even His Majesty knows that a sacrifice may have to be made to secure an alliance with an important neighbor.”
Wolfram’s eyes narrowed. “What about you?” he snapped. “You’ve made your own feelings about Yuuri clear over time. How can you stand there and let him field these worthless proposals, knowing that you’re selling him off to someone who doesn’t love him?”
Günter closed his eyes, a stricken look passing briefly across his elegant features. “True, it does pain me to see His Majesty perusing the offers, knowing that any one of them might take him away from me,” he sighed. “But I know my place, and that is to guide His Majesty to choose the greater good and do the right thing for him and his people.”
“The right thing is for him to honor the promise he has already made,” Wolfram said with dread seriousness. “The rest of you are goading him to break it, and sully any last remaining shred of honor he might have. So go ahead.” He focused burning green eyes on Yuuri. “Pick yourself a wife out of all of these whores. Throw away your honor to some greedy human nation, see if I care.”
“Wolfram!” Günter cried. “These women are not whores!”
“Aren’t they?” Wolfram lunged out of the way of Günter’s attempt to take his arm and escort him out. “They’re offering themselves up to him not because they love him, they don’t even know him. They just want his power and wealth, and want to be seen as a pretty plaything on the arm of the Maou. They’re not doing it for Yuuri’s sake, or their people’s sake, they’re doing it because they can be bought for a price. The last I checked, that was the very definition of a whore.” He spun on his heel and stalked out, needing no invitation from Günter to do so.
After he was gone, Günter turned to Yuuri, clasping his hands contritely before him. “Please, your Majesty, don’t listen to him. Wolfram is upset, you know how he gets. You aren’t throwing away your honor. Forming a marriage alliance to help bring about peace is a very honorable deed.”
Yuuri blinked at the letter from Schildkraut that had provoked this argument, lying open on the desk in front of him. It was a far less serious offer than some of the others, but no less extravagant. “Hey, Günter,” he said softly. “Is Wolfram right? Do all these women just want a piece of me because I’m the Maou?”
“Well…” Günter gazed pityingly down at him. “Your Majesty, you must understand. On the surface, it is only an arrangement made based on your station. But that doesn’t mean you couldn’t meet someone nice, and in time, perhaps grow to like or love her despite having been made to marry for political reasons.”
“But that’s no guarantee.” Yuuri sighed, and then folded up the letter and set it with the others. “It isn’t fair. Not to me, and not to these women. They’re not even writing the proposals, their relatives are. I can’t stand to think that one of them is going to wake up one day and be told that the Maou wants her to come to Shin Makoku and marry him and sit as his Queen even though she never met him and maybe hates Mazoku or something.” He rested his chin on his fist. Not to mention, he thought to himself, it isn’t being fair to Wolfram. Even if our engagement was an accident.
Günter stood on the other side of the desk with his hands clasped together. “Your Majesty,” he said as gently as he could. “It is a credit to your honor that you worry about the feelings of these women. But you must look at the grand design. It could be that five, ten, twenty years down the road, we will need to be closely allied with one of our neighbors, in a way that a mere peace treaty couldn’t hold. Marrying two rulers together marries nations together, the people can’t help but feel connected to their king and accept their in-laws whether they like them or not.”
Yuuri frowned at the growing stack of letters, some of them with pretty painted portraits of the girls being offered to him. “So, now you’re asking me to try to predict the future and know which country I should marry into.”
The counselor blinked in surprise. “Well…that is, I…”
“No, it’s okay, Günter.” Yuuri rose and left his desk without responding to any post. “Don’t worry about it. Like Konrad said…I’m just looking over the proposals, I’m not accepting any of them. I need time to think.” He drifted out the door and closed it quietly behind him.
It was easy to set aside the proposals and promise to think about them and respond later, but then the first delegation showed up at the castle. It was only some small-potatoes nobleman from the sea coast of Shin Makoku, come to present his daughter to the Maou and try to seek favor with him, but he had the misfortune of coming at a time when Wolfram was with Yuuri. Rather than wait to gain audience in the throne room, Sir von Schroeder and his attendants and daughter and daughter’s maids came up to him in a pack in the great hall, wanting to speak to him right away without waiting for proper arrangements to be made. Yuuri listened to him speak and smiled helplessly toward his daughter, a nice-enough girl but no beauty pageant winner, but before he could say anything, Wolfram snaked a hand into the crook of his arm and tugged possessively at him. “I’m very sorry you wasted your time making this journey,” he said curtly, “but Yuuri is already engaged. To me.”
Von Schroeder’s eyes widened. “What? Engaged to you?”
Wolfram nodded firmly, holding his head high. “He proposed to me the very first day he came to this castle. We have been betrothed since.”
The girl clapped her hands over her mouth. Her father straightened up and mustered as much of his dignity as he could. “Well, I…I did not know that. Surely, if that were true, an announcement should have been made…”
“Yes, you’re quite right,” Wolfram said with an air of superiority. “And you can believe that I will be seeking out someone in the castle to correct that oversight as soon as possible. We can’t have more people being put in your position.”
“I’m really sorry,” Yuuri added for himself. “I didn’t realize people would be making this big a fuss over me. I feel bad that you had to come all this way during the rainy season just to find this out.”
Sir von Schroeder bowed politely. “No apology is necessary, your Majesty. I understand that in your short reign so far, you have done more than some Maous do in a lifetime. Perhaps it slipped your mind.”
Yuuri glanced at the daughter, who was gazing at him with mingled pity and disgust,
but mostly pity. He smiled to put her at ease. “Look at it this way. At least you got to travel and see
“Ah! My dear Schroeder!” Everyone started and glanced aside when they heard Lady Cheri’s delighted cry across the hall. She sauntered towards them, the shawl over her revealing dress barely keeping any of it covered. Wolfram sighed in exasperation, Yuuri rolled his eyes, and von Schroeder actually blushed. She came up to them and clasped his hands affectionately. “Ah, it’s been far too long. You’re looking well.”
“As are you, Lady Cecile,” the nobleman said, definitely sounding happier than he had a moment ago. He bent his head and kissed her hand, making her giggle. “Truly, to see you again has redeemed my trip and made it all worthwhile.”
“Oh?” Cheri raised en eyebrow at the gathering and grasped it immediately. “Ah! You came with a proposal for His Majesty, did you?”
Sir von Schroeder presented his daughter, introducing her to the former Maou. The girl’s eyes began to sparkle, as if she had come here all along to meet the famous Lady Cecile rather than the current Maou. “It is a shame, though,” her father said. “To have come expecting to gain audience and discover that the Maou already has a fiancé.”
Cheri glanced at Wolfram and Yuuri, not ignorant of the hand on Yuuri’s arm. “Yes, that is a shame,” she sighed. “But that means you’ve already met my son, Wolfram.”
“Your son?” Von Schroeder looked at the boys anew. “Well! I suppose then the competition is over before it started. No one can hope to go against the former Maou’s son, if he already has His Majesty’s heart.”
“If you’ll excuse us, Mother,” Wolfram broke in, “it seems you and Sir von Schroeder have some catching up to do.” He yanked Yuuri’s arm to steer him toward the door.
“Sorry – it was nice to meet you,” Yuuri said sincerely as he was dragged away.
Once out in the corridor, Yuuri pulled Wolfram to a stop. “That wasn’t very nice of you.”
Wolfram turned sharply. “What do you mean? I stopped you from making a fool of yourself. It’s better off they find out right away, than have you lead them on and make them think you’re available, only to find out in the end that you’re not.”
“Well, you don’t have to be so harsh about it.” Yuuri folded his arms and looked away, not admitting that Wolfram had a point. “You can be more tactful, you know. Wasn’t it you who was lecturing me about decorum and proper behavior?”
Wolfram snorted dubiously. “Your idea of decorum is to let them walk all over you. There are times when the best response is a straight one.”
“Even so…” Yuuri sighed, unwilling to fight this battle. “Next time, let me handle it, okay? I’ll let them down easy. I need practice at the decorum thing anyway. I promise, it’ll be fine.”
Sadly, Yuuri’s experiment in decorum didn’t go at all the way he wanted. The next time a delegation arrived at the castle with a prospective bride, his idea of letting them down easy had him seated at dinner with them after a long audience, at which he got a good glimpse of the girl’s true nature. She was a little more plump than some of the waif-like flowers being shoved at him, but not ugly, until they got to dinner. Then her true side came out; she wavered between simpering at every little word he said like a brainless twit and snarfing down food with a glutton’s fervor. Thankfully, Wolfram returned from an errand in the nick of time, and Yuuri was willing to let him have his tantrum in front of everybody, because it successfully scared off the bride and her uncle with no ambiguity about it. As soon as they were out of the castle, Wolfram rounded on the others – but not Yuuri himself. He could be forgiven for being a wimp and not knowing how to properly reject people, but Wolfram had a few choice words for Günter and Anissina, who had witnessed the entire thing. “It was you,” he accused Günter. “You sent me out of the castle on a fool’s errand! You knew these people were coming and sent me away so I wouldn’t be here to interfere!”
Günter looked startled but didn’t deny it. “These matters are for His Majesty to decide, not you!” he declared. “This is his life and his future, and people are here to see him. He ought to handle it as best he sees fit.”
“He doesn’t know how to handle them,” Wolfram argued. “He can’t even tell people who’ve kidnapped him that he doesn’t want to go with them, how do you think he’s going to handle a bunch of honey-tongued noblemen coming here to flatter him and make him believe that they have his best interests at heart?”
The storming and door-slamming came very quickly after that, giving Yuuri a chance to slink away to someplace private and try to puzzle out what had happened. He found himself in a high hall of the castle where a long series of tall windows looked out on the courtyard. The golden flowers inlaid in colored glass at the top of each window glowed dully with the dark, rainy skies outside, leaving the corridor dim and dank. Yuuri sat on the sill of one window and gazed down at the wet, gray courtyard below, happy to find the glass cold and moist against his heated forehead. For all the yelling and snarling Wolfram was doing, Yuuri had to admit that for once, he couldn’t be said to be overreacting. He knew Wolfram would yell upon finding him entertaining a potential bride, and somehow he was looking forward to it. But then he considered, what if the girl hadn’t been a boor? What if he had met someone nice, and delicate, who he might have wanted to get to know, and Wolfram had come thundering in with all his rage and bluster? Not that it hadn’t happened before, but how was Yuuri to know that Miss Elizabeth wasn’t there for him in the first place? Because she was brought by Stoffel, that’s how, he chided himself. He may be Lady Cheri’s brother, but he’s never been anything except manipulative toward me. Come to think of it… He pondered over Wolfram’s accusation. Günter had manipulated him, too, sending him away from the castle just in time for a delegation to come with another marriage offer. It seemed to Yuuri that no matter what Wolfram’s behavior was like, he didn’t deserve that. But everybody knew Wolfram, knew what he was like, what he would say. It was easy for them to predict his tantrum and head it off one way or another. Sighing, Yuuri closed his eyes and tried to forget about it. It didn’t help that Wolfram was the only one in the castle not on board with the whole arranged-marriage thing. If there had been just one other, someone Yuuri could trust to think with his head and not his heart, who could tell him what his instinct craved to hear – that this was all wrong, and he shouldn’t be doing it…
Gwendal glanced up when he heard his door creak, and gave his visitor a disgruntled look. “One of these days, I’m going to have Günter teach you to knock – the hard way.”
“Sorry, Gwendal,” Yuuri said quietly. “I’m not disturbing you, am I?”
Gwendal returned his attention to the papers in front of him. “Is there something you need?”
“Yeah. I…uh, need to talk.”
The soft, uncertain tone of the Maou’s voice made Gwendal look up again. He hadn’t seen Yuuri look so awkward and closed-off in a long time. After a moment of thought, he gestured with the end of his quill to one of the chairs beside his desk. “About what?”
Yuuri prowled noiselessly across the room and sank into the chair, clasping his hands in his lap and keeping his gaze turned away. “This whole stupid marriage thing.” He took a deep breath, and then everything came pouring out. “I don’t think I should be doing this. I mean, it’s not just my own feelings that I have to worry about. I’m probably ruining some girl’s life by making her expect that she might have to come here and marry the Maou. Not the ones who are just throwing themselves at me because they want to share some of my status, but the other ones. The ones from the human nations. The ones being brought here by their fathers and essentially sold off. I know everyone keeps saying this is for the good of the kingdom, and it’ll make alliances, and promote cooperation between Mazoku and humans, and that all sounds good, but…I can’t help it. Something just doesn’t sit right with me.”
Gwendal listened to his tirade, and then just went back to writing. “You’re asking the wrong person,” he said bluntly. “I’m no expert in matters of love. I know nothing about it.”
“It isn’t about love,” Yuuri complained, “and that’s the problem. I was brought up to think that I was supposed to find someone to love, and that was who I was going to spend the rest of my life with. You’ve met my mother.” He cracked a wry smile. “She’s a hopeless romantic who can’t stop thinking that fairy tales are the way to happiness. So, because fairy tales end with the prince getting the princess and living happily ever after…”
“Life isn’t that way,” Gwendal interrupted. “It’s a cute notion, but that’s all it is.”
“Yeah. I know.” Yuuri slumped over in the chair, elbows on knees and chin in hands. Gwendal glanced up and felt a flash of pity through his stoic heart. “I mean, even my mom and dad aren’t perfect. When we were kids, they used to yell at each other a lot, but I know they still love each other and never stopped loving each other. And I can’t stop thinking about Hube and Nicola.” That made Gwendal look up again, and finally set his pen down, realizing he wasn’t going to get any work done if Yuuri kept saying things to startle him. “How they were split apart, and Nicola almost married against her will just to keep Hube alive. They had everything going against them, the whole world tried to tear them apart, because Mazoku and humans aren’t supposed to be together.”
“Yet, they are together,” Gwendal said heavily. “Geigen Huber and Nicola have your happily ever after. And I believe they owe it to you.”
“Yeah.” Yuuri stared at the floor between his feet. “But…that doesn’t mean everything will work out the same way if a human girl tries to marry me. I’ve met a lot of people since coming here who’ve shown me that not all humans are bad and many of them are willing to go along with the idea of letting humans and Mazoku be together. But I’ve also met a lot who think the opposite. I know it sounds like a grand, noble idea, putting a human and the Maou together and watching the rest of the world wake up see that it’s not bad, but…why does my heart tell me that it’s not going to be so easy?” His voice softened to nearly a whisper. “Can I put some human woman who doesn’t even know me through that? Can I go through that? Can I ever be sure that Mazoku won’t suddenly disown me and overthrow me like Lady Cheri if I took a human wife?”
A few silent minutes ticked by after he trailed off. Gwendal folded his hands on his desk and stared at them without expression. “That is a lot to think about. A lot that you will have to weigh before making any decisions.” He frowned as Yuuri looked up at him with the most plaintive, pathetic eyes ever. Gwendal’s heart was moved by such an adorable look, but not so much that it overrode his common sense. He forced himself to remain impartial as he said, “I told you, I don’t have much expertise in matters of the heart. I know you want me to tell you what to do, but the truth is, I can’t. You are the only one who can judge your own heart and decide what’s best for it. The good of the kingdom and peace between Mazoku and humans are very important goals.” The briefest flash of emotion glimmered in his deep blue eyes. “But sometimes, the sacrifice isn’t worth it. No one can help you decide that, Yuuri. Only you can.”
Yuuri lowered his head, and after a long moment, pushed himself out of the chair. “Thank you, Gwendal,” he said in that low, calm voice. “I knew I could trust you to be honest with me.” He left the room as abruptly as he had come, without a farewell. Gwendal sighed hard, not sure that he had said everything Yuuri needed to hear. The plea he had seen in the Maou’s black eyes had nearly broken his heart, and he sent up a silent prayer that Yuuri would find the answers he needed before it was too late.