Felix nodded. “I understand, trust me. But don’t leave it too long. Mother’s a tender soul under all that bluster, and he has no tolerance for deception.”
Blackbird chose that moment to turn her head and nuzzle the side of Vasily’s face, and Felix laughed at his outraged squawk. Then, while Vasily was wiping his face, he moved back into Shadow’s stall, and before long Vasily heard the sound of long, smooth brush strokes as Felix finished grooming his horse. He picked up his equipment and did the same, his hands moving automatically over Blackbird’s coat as he turned over what Felix had said.
Hedidneed to tell Mother who he was—that was indisputable. But he had months and months before he even had to think about leaving, so it wasn’t like he had to break it to him right this minute.
He finished up with Blackbird and stepped out of the stall just as Mother rapped on the wooden doorframe. “All done?” he asked, stepping inside.
“All done,” Vasily said, unable to hold back his smile.
Mother stepped closer and wrapped his arms around him. “We can still take that walk and watch the sunset if you’d like.” He pressed a soft kiss to Vasily’s temple.
“You know,myhusband’s never taken me for a walk at sunset,” Felix said, strolling out of Shadow’s stall. “He’s obviously not a born romantic like you, Mother.”
Mother jerked back, but Vasily got the feeling it was more in surprise at Felix’s appearance than anything, and he was quick to slip his palm into Vasily’s. “Begging your pardon, sire, but I disagree,” Mother said. “His Majesty changed the laws of an entire kingdom to marry you. I think he must be at least alittlebit romantic.”
Felix sighed. “I suppose. And I’vetoldyou, stop calling me sire.”
“Shan’t, sire. You’re prince consort now. It’s only proper to use your title.”
Vasily’s stomach gave an odd little flip-flop.Thiswas why he didn’t want to reveal his identity yet. Was it so wrong to want to enjoy being just Vasily for a little while longer, instead of being feted as a prince?
Felix tilted his head. “So, as the prince consort, you’ll respect my authority and title—exceptwhen I ask you to use my name and not my title? That makes no sense.”
“Not much about royal protocol does…sire,” Mother said with a shrug.
Felix laughed, and Vasily got the sense that they’d had this conversation many times before.
“Enjoy your walk,” Felix said, and then he was gone, striding the path up to the castle, the grass stains on his back a stark contrast to the crisp white linen of his shirt.
As they watched him go, Vasily said, “He has a point, though. Why call him sire when he’s asked you not to? Surely his wishes override protocol?”
Mother grinned and bumped his shoulder against Vasily’s. “It does Flick good not to get his own way all the time, lad. Otherwise he’d end up with his head fair up his arse, and he’d be insufferable.”
That startled a laugh out of Vasily, and he hoped it meant that perhaps Mother wouldn’t betooupset at finding out that Vasily was a prince after all.
But that didn’t mean he was ready to tell him.
* * *
They made it down to the ocean just before the sun dipped below the horizon, and sat together on the low stone harbour wall near where the fishing boats were moored. They watched as the sky turned a glorious array of colours before the darkness swallowed them up and night fell. Mother had one arm wrapped firmly around Vasily’s waist, holding him steady, and the heat and weight of his arm was a welcome comfort. Vasily had mostly recovered from the shocking—to him, at least—revelation that he didn’t want to leave and that he might feel more for Mother than he’d previously thought. Having his lover hold him like he was something precious was helping to chase away the last traces of his unease.
Besides, he was a fan of cuddling generally where Mother was concerned.
“Still want that pint?” Mother murmured. “Or shall we head back?” He leaned in and nuzzled at Vasily’s ear, his breath a warm contrast to the crisp night air, and it was far nicer than when Blackbird had done it earlier. Mother had discovered early on that Vasily had a sensitive spot at the side of his throat, and when he grazed his lips against the skin just like he was doing now, it generally meant he had one thing on his mind.
Vasily shivered with anticipation. “Home, please?”
Mother clambered to his feet and then held out a hand, keeping Vasily steady as he stood. “Careful of that edge, lad,” he said in warning, just like he always did. Vasily took two steps away, just like he always did. Mother’s concern about his safety around water was both understandable and touching, and Vasily never mocked him for it.
As they walked back, he noticed that most of the stalls and shopfronts were decorated with long strips of brightly coloured cloth hanging across the front, and it looked like the cobbles had been swept clean. “What’s the bunting for?” he asked Mother, nodding at the haphazard flags.
“Blessing of the Fleet tomorrow, lad,” Mother said. “Happens every year on the first day of spring. The king rides down, and the bishop comes and prays for good catches and safe passage. It’s a good day for the stallholders.”
Vasily nodded—he’d known they were saddling the royal mounts for tomorrow. This must be why.
As they walked back through the cobbled streets hand in hand, Vasily wondered how many more times they’d get to do this once he told Mother the truth. Maybe it wouldn’t make a difference, or maybe Mother would reject him as a liar and a fraud—or worse, call him sire and refuse to look him in the eye, let alone touch him.
Vasily desperately hoped for the former, but he wasn’t foolish enough to count on it. And before he was willing to risk losing Mother, there were things he wanted to try—onething, specifically. Then, if it all went awry, at least he wouldn’t be left wondering what he was missing.
