“I was just saying to Alexei,I know he wants to thank Mister Jones, but a formal banquet might be too much for the poor man, so why not have a light luncheon? Just us and the king and prince consort and the crown prince—and you, of course. I get the feeling your Mister Jones won’t want anything more than that.”
Alexei gave his wife a soft smile. “Whatever you think is best, my love.” Vasily wasn’t surprised—he could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times his father had said no to his queen.
“A luncheon sounds perfect,” he said. “Mother’s not much for ceremony or crowds.”
“We will arrange it with King Leopold.” His mother took Vasily’s hand and slowed her steps so that they fell in behind the king, and when there was enough distance, she lowered her voice and asked, “So, this Mister Jones, is he your friend?”
Vasily nodded.
The queen clasped his hand more tightly in both of hers. “And is he what people might call aspecialfriend?”
Vasily hesitated, but he never had been able to keep a secret from his mother—even one as big as this. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard before whispering, “Yes.”
He held his breath, waiting for her response, and he almost collapsed with relief when she nodded to herself as if confirming something, then said, “I think I like your new friend. He seems like a good man.”
“He is,” Vasily said. “The very best.”
And he really was. Vasily had never known anybody like Mother, with his crooked smile and accidental innuendos and soft heart and strong hands. Not to mention his kissable lips and very pretty cock.
“Vasily?” his mother said quietly, and he snapped out of his thoughts to find that they’d reached the courtyard and were standing in front of the main entrance to the castle.
After all the months coming in through the side gate near the laundry, it felt strange to be using the wide double doors, but Vasily squared his shoulders and, with a nod at the guards, led his parents inside.
Leo and Felix were waiting with welcoming smiles, and Leo stepped forward and greeted Vasily’s parents with a half bow. “King Alexei, Queen Irina, welcome to Lilleforth. You are most welcome here.” He was the picture of royal composure, and there was no sign of the man who only yesterday Vasily had seen squabbling with Felix over the last cream cake, a tussle which had ended up with him licking cream off his husband’s fingers.
Queen Irina gave a curtsy and King Alexei returned the bow, saying, “We are most thankful for your hospitality.”
“Of course,” Leopold said and beamed like the gracious host he was.
Felix stood silently beside Leopold, his hands clasped behind his back like the perfect prince consort, and as pleasantries were exchanged and dinner plans made, it occurred to Vasily that it was rather like watching an intricate dance—except all the steps were taught from birth, and heaven help anyone who joined in late. He’d personally always found the ins and outs of protocol stifling, and he thought briefly of Mother and his statement that he wouldn’t be caught getting involved with royalty. He wondered if Mother would ever be willing to take part in something like this.
And more to the point, could Vasily ask it of him?
* * *
Before dinner Vasily took the time to wash his face, tidy his hair, and smooth out the front of his shirt, and when he sat down at the table, he almost looked respectable.
It was agreed that a luncheon in Mother’s honour the next day was fitting, and Vasily volunteered to go and deliver the news after dinner.
Although Vasily could tell his father wasn’t exactly comfortable dining with a king who had a husband, he had to admire the way he conducted himself. He kept the conversation light and genial, discussing such scintillating topics as the crops, the weather, the state of the roads on their trip, and wasn’t the meal tasty? There was a moment when Felix mentioned “my husband” and Alexei opened his mouth to say something, but his wife silenced him with a hard stare, and overall the evening went smoothly enough.
And yet, as Vasily ate his venison and drank his wine, he found himself thinking longingly of the mutton stew that Mother had planned to make.
When the meal was over, his parents retired early, tired from their journey. Vasily loved them, but he still heaved a sigh of relief. He was exhausted after his long workday, and being on his best behaviour all evening had been more taxing than he remembered. He was reminded once again why he’d spent most of his time hanging around the stables as a boy.
Once the table had been cleared, Vasily drummed his fingertips on the tabletop, wondering how to take his leave without sounding rude.
Felix saved him the trouble by standing and stretching. “Apologies, Vasily, but we’re deserting you and going to bed.”
“Are we?” Leopold asked.
Felix extended a hand to his husband. “King Alexei doubtless assumes we’re getting up to all sorts of debauched behaviour tonight,” he said. “It would be a shame to disappoint him.”
“Oh! Well, if there’s debauchery, I’m in,” Leo said, a gleam in his eye. “Goodnight, Vasily. Say hello to Mother for me.”
And then they were gone, laughter floating along in their wake, and Vasily didn’t waste any time darting out the door. He was looking forward to getting back to his—no,their—cottage, spooning up behind Mother, and getting comfortable in his own skin again.
He hurried down the path, not slowing until he saw the lamplight gleaming through the small window as the cottage came into view. He opened the door quietly.
