Vasily nodded and gave a sigh.
Mother quirked an eyebrow. “Something on your mind, lad?”
Vasily considered saying nothing for a moment. But Mother had proved to be a wealth of information on anything and everything, and he’d been nothing but kind so far. Maybe he’d have some advice about this as well.
“It’s—” Vasily kept his gaze fixed on the horizon. “How, though?” he burst out. “How did they find each other? How do you know if someone is interested, or if you’re imagining it?”
“Ah,” Mother said. “Someone you’ve got your eye on, lad?”
Vasily bit his lip and reminded himself that Mother had never judged him—and besides, he’d asked. “Maybe. There’s a guard that I think might like me. But I don’t know what to do next or if I’m imagining it. How, exactly, do I ask someone out? What if I ask and they say no? What if they sayyes?”
Mother gave a low chuckle and draped an arm over Vasily’s shoulders, the gesture familiar and comforting. “You’re asking the wrong person, lad. I’ve never been much for romance and attraction or any of that. But I will say, if it’s young Jeremy, you’re not imagining it. I don’t believe that lad had seen the inside of the stables before you arrived, but he’s been down here two days this week already.”
“Oh!” Vasily’s mood brightened instantly at the thought that someone—anyone—was interested in him. “Are you sure?”
Mother gave him that crooked smile that Vasily was becoming so fond of. “What was his reason for coming last time, remind me?”
“He said he needed some straw? It was for the stove in the guards’ quarters.”
“A handful of straw for the stove in the guards’ quarters, right. And why was he here the time before that?”
Vasily’s brow creased as he tried to remember. “He said…he was familiarising himself with the stables in case there was an emergency?” Come to think of it, he’d thought it odd at the time, given that if the king or his husband ever needed an escort, it was always Captain Hobson or the physically imposing but good-humoured Thomas, who had replaced Felix as Leopold’s personal guard.
“He lingered so long making small talk with you that the captain sent someone to fetch him, as I recall.” Mother shook his head and let out a soft chuckle, the arm around Vasily’s shoulders tightening for a moment. “He’s sweet on you,lad. Or at least, he wants to be.”
Vasily’s face heated. “Oh. That’s—” He swallowed. “That’s mildly terrifying, actually.”
Mother pulled away and turned to look at him, brow furrowed. “You just said you like him. And he likes you back. Surely that’s a good thing?”
Vasily slumped against the rails. “Yes. No. I don’t know.”
“Ah.” Mother nodded sagely. “I’m glad we cleared that up.”
Vasily raised his head just enough to see Mother grinning, his expression mocking him gently, and the smile on his face was enough to unknot the ball of nerves in his stomach at least a little. One of the many things Vasily liked about Mother was how easy it was to talk to him. Vasily propped his elbows on the railing and rested his chin. “I’m not good at”—he gestured vaguely with one hand— “flirting. Courting. Any of it. I haven’t ever had the chance. And I’m terrified that if I invite Jeremy for a pint, he’ll think itisjust for a pint and be offended if I suggest anything more. Or worse, he’ll think I want to—"
Fuck,he didn’t say, unable to force the word out.
“To spoon?” Mother suggested, and Vasily could have sworn his cheeks held a tinge of pink.
“Spoon,” Vasily agreed, all the air leaving him in a whoosh.
“And do you?” Mother asked. “Want to spoon someone?”
Vasily’s lungs constricted at the thought. He ran his palms over his face and let out a groan. “Maybe? But I’ve never spooned anyone before. I haven’t, um, dabbled in cutlery at all, really.”
Mother’s hand came to rest on his shoulder again, broad and comforting. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, with the right help.”
“Yes, but it’s thegetting there,”Vasily said. “I can’t even tell when someone is flirting. How am I meant to know if they’re trying to seduce me? And how am I meant to seducethem?” He heaved another sigh. “Perhaps I’ll follow your lead and stick to horses. People are too complicated.”
Mother patted his shoulder, and his expression grew serious. “You didn’t leave your home to travel just so you could spend the evenings alone, lad. This is your chance to do things you’d never do back in Koroslova, right?”
Vasily swallowed. Mother was right. He’d been given a gift—an entire year—and it would be a shame to squander it, but still. “I don’t know what to say or do, though. Why didn’t my tutors teach me something useful, like how to talk to attractive people?” he said, sounding pitiful even to his own ears. “Why can’t everybody be easy to talk to like you?”
Mother’s brow creased. “Me?”
“Yes, you. You don’t say I’m stupid because I don’t know how to bank a fire, and you don’t think I’m a”—he swallowed again, feeling his face heat—“a deviant, just because I prefer the company of men.” He wrinkled his nose. “At least, IthinkI prefer it. But at the rate I’m going, I’ll never find out because I’m too scared to say hello, let alone anything else.”
Mother’s mouth pursed and his grip on Vasily’s shoulder tightened before he spoke, low and serious. “First off, lad, who you prefer to keep company with isn’t anybody else’s business, and I’d like to see anyonedareto call you that when I’m around.”
