“Something smells good,” Mother said from the depths of the quilt, voice raspy with sleep.
“I made porridge, and it isn’t even lumpy!” Vasily moved over to the corner of the room where Mother’s bed was and, feeling bold, lay down on top of the faded quilt next to him.
Mother rolled towards him and blinked owlishly, and for a moment Vasily worried that he was regretting last night, but then he gave a sleepy half smile. Combined with his messy hair and stubble, it was so charming that Vasily couldn’t help but lean over and kiss him. Mother gave a contented hum when they parted and sat up, and Vasily got to see the muscles in his shoulders flex temptingly when he stretched his arms over his head and yawned. He still couldn’t quite believe that Mother had asked to court him. It was something he hadn’t known he could have, but as soon as Mother had offered, it had felt right. He couldn’t stop smiling, his stomach fluttering with excitement and nerves both.
Mother pressed a kiss to Vasily’s cheek, his stubble scraping against his skin and sending a shiver up Vasily’s spine. “Glad to see you haven’t run screaming. I woke earlier and you were gone.”
He ran his fingers through the bird’s nest of Mother’s hair, untangling it. “I just went to get something to wear. I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Aye, I slept solid last night. Must have been the company.” He gave his crooked smile and Vasily blushed, remembering the press of Mother’s erection against his arse. He certainlyhadslept solid.
The water on the hearth bubbled and roiled, stray droplets making angry hissing sounds as they came in contact with the pot, and Vasily shook his head to clear away his musings about Mother’s cock. He cleared his throat. “Anyway, breakfast’s ready.” He slipped off the bed and busied himself making the tea while Mother dressed and ducked outside to the privy, and by the time Mother had washed his face and worked his hair into some semblance of order, the porridge was in two bowls on the table along with steaming mugs of tea.
Mother sat and took a bite, and his face lit up with pleasure. “Good job, lad. We’ll make a cook out of you yet.”
Warmth flooded Vasily’s chest at the praise, and he grinned around his own spoon. The porridge wasn’t perfect, but it was a far cry from the inedible messes he’d produced the first few times he’d tried. Being able to feed oneself was a silly thing to be proud of, he supposed, especially for a prince, but there it was.
He tried very hard not to think about the fact he was going to have totellMother he was a prince at some stage. Surely it wouldn’t matter.
Would it?
They ate quietly but it wasn’t awkward, more both of them gathering their thoughts. When the bowls were empty, Mother took them to wipe clean, and it was while his back was turned that Mother said, “So, no regrets about last night?”
There was a note of uncertainty in his tone.
Vasily didn’t hesitate, pushing his chair back and walking over to wrap his arms around Mother’s waist from behind, resting his head against his back. “None. My only regret is that I didn’t see what was in front of me sooner.” Vasily pressed his lips to the nape of Mother’s neck, and the tense set of his shoulders loosened under the touch.
Vasily wondered if he was terrible for wanting to drag Mother back to bed and indulge in some more of that touching he’d enjoyed so much last night, perhaps even taking things further. Nottoomuch further, not yet, but he’d often wondered what it would be like to get his mouth on another man’s cock, and Mother had seemed to like the idea last night.
Before he had a chance to suggest anything, though, Mother turned in his grasp and draped his arms around Vasily’s neck. “We should go and see to the horses.” Vasily only had a moment to be disappointed before he added, “Earlier we start, earlier we’re done, and we might have time for some more”—Mother swallowed, and the tips of his ears turned pink—“canoodling.”
Vasily’s heart fluttered, and he pressed a kiss to Mother’s forehead, standing on his tiptoes to reach. “I like canoodling with you, Bryn.”
Mother grinned. “Same, lad.” He slid his palm down Vasily’s spine, leaving a warm trail in its wake before withdrawing his hand with a small sigh. “Horses first, though. We’re in the service of the king, remember.”
“Yes, right. Horses first. Canoodling later,” Vasily agreed before stealing a kiss.
Once Mother had pulled his boots on, they walked across to the stables. Ollie and their newest stable boy, Conor, were already hard at work filling the feed troughs and Mother nodded in satisfaction. He walked the length of the stalls, inspecting the horses for any sign of illness or upset, but they all appeared clear-eyed and content.
He and Vasily helped distribute the feed, and once the horses had eaten, they set about releasing them into the adjoining grazing meadows. That was the cue for the stable boys to set to work mucking out the stalls, and after making sure they were getting into all the corners, Mother walked with Vasily over to where Shadow and Blackbird were kept.
Vasily fed Blackbird half a carrot while Mother did the same for Shadow, stroking his broad nose and murmuring nonsense, his forearms flexing enticingly as he moved. Vasily licked his lips and reminded himself they had a job to do and now wasnotthe time to be looking at Mother’s arms. Or his arse. Or his long legs that held a very pretty cock between them, one that Vasily wanted to see more of.
It didn’t take long to get the horses fed and turned out, and Vasily grabbed a shovel and started cleaning out Blackbird’s stall, scooping up the muck and carrying it to the pile outside. Mother worked alongside him, and soon enough both stalls were fresh and clean. When they were finished, Mother wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, the skin of his throat glistening with the light sweat he’d worked up. He stood there, his shirt clinging to him, and Vasily found himself drawn like a moth to a flame. Before he knew it, he was standing right in front of him, one hand settling on Mother’s waist as he leaned in for a kiss.
Mother stilled for a split second but then his hands were at Vasily’s hips, and he was kissing him back. The pleased little sounds he was making between the soft brushes of their lips left Vasily in no doubt that he was enjoying himself.
Vasily found himself backed against the door to Blackbird’s stall, Mother’s hand cupping the back of his head and angling it just right as he licked against the seam of Vasily’s mouth. Vasily opened to his touch, and the taste of him was already familiar, like they’d been doing this forever. He let out a contented noise of his own, tangling his hands in Mother’s hair and ignoring the way the timbers of the stall door dug into his hip, concentrating instead on the scrape of Mother’s ever-present stubble against his skin and the warmth of his touch. He pulled Mother closer and they kissed, slow and lazy. There was no real heat to it, but it was still thrilling in its own way, because was anything better than stealing kisses from the man he was courting?
Vasily didn’t think so.
They drew back at the same time and Vasily ran a fingertip over his mouth, lips tingling, and sighed.
“I know, lad,” Mother said with a rueful grin, “but we should save it for later. Last thing we need is Ollie barrelling in here and then telling the world and its wife what we’re about.”
It shouldn’t have stung like it did. Still, something in Vasily’s chest ached, sharp and unexpected, at the implication that what they were doing was something shameful, something to be hidden. It cut too close to the bone, an unwelcome reminder of home.
Disappointment and loss flooded through him. “So you want to court me, but only in secret? Are you ashamed to be with a”—his voice cracked—“a man?”
