Mother spun around in his chair and his eyes lit up. “You came back! I thought you’d be staying at the castle.”
“Why would I stay there when I live here?” Vasily said. He was rewarded with a bright smile, and all the tension of the evening fell away when Mother stood and stepped forward, cradled the back of his head, and kissed him. The taste of him was as welcome and refreshing as cool water on a summer’s day, and Vasily closed his eyes and savoured the closeness as they kissed long and slow.
Eventually they parted, and Mother asked, “How was dinner?”
“It was good to see my family,” Vasily said. “But I’d forgotten how much work protocol was.”
“Sooner you than me,” Mother said.
“About that. You’re expected for luncheon at the castle tomorrow.”
Vasily half expected Mother to refuse, but he just gave a resigned smile. “I suppose I’ll have to polish my boots and dress my best, then.”
“You don’t mind?”
Mother settled his hands on Vasily’s hips and leaned their foreheads together. “Course I don’t mind. It’s lunch, not a hanging. And I can mind my manners easily enough.”
Vasily bit back a smile. “You mean when you’re not telling the king to bugger off?”
“He caught me off guard!” Mother huffed.
Vasily opened his mouth to say something, but it turned into a yawn.
“Come to bed, love,” Mother said.
“I don’t know if I can sleep,” Vasily admitted. He was tired, but his mind was whirling with unanswered questions. What, exactly, were his parents doing here? How long were they staying? What would happen if his father realised he and Mother were more than friends? What if seeing Vasily in his role as prince meant Mother no longer wanted him?
“Shhh,” Mother murmured against the side of his throat, running a broad palm up and down his side in a soothing motion as if he could sense his unease. Perhaps he could. “I know just the way to help you relax.”
He tugged Vasily’s shirt over his head and Vasily unlaced his trousers, and once they were both undressed, they climbed into bed. Mother guided him onto his back and settled himself on top of Vasily, and the heat and weight of him as he rolled his hips in a gentle rhythm was perfect for distracting Vasily from his thoughts. Mother nipped and kissed at the side of his throat while he wrapped a hand around both of their cocks and worked them slow and easy to their climax, and it wasn’t long before Vasily spilled with a sigh, Mother following close behind.
He lay there afterwards, mind pleasantly fuzzy while Mother wiped them down, and as Mother plastered himself along the length of his spine, Vasily couldn’t help but feel that perhaps everything would work out all right after all.
* * *
Vasily squirmed as he tugged at the collar of his deep grey doublet and wondered once again if he could get away with a clean shirt and trousers. He sighed, knowing the answer. Today he was Prince Vasily, fifth in line for the throne of Koroslova, and his parents would expect him to dress accordingly.
He brushed at the front of his fitted midnight blue trousers, which seemed far too constricting to be healthy. He knew it was just his imagination—if anything he was leaner now than when he’d arrived—but he still felt like a heap of straw stuffed into a sack that was one size too small.
He sighed again.
It was only for one day.
Mother had assured Vasily that once he’d sorted the stables out and assigned the grooms their tasks, he’d be back to wash and change. Part of Vasily felt that he should be helping in the stables as well instead of standing here fiddling with the collar of his best doublet, but Mother had assured him it was fine.
He ran a hand through his hair and a smile crept onto his face. Mother had brushed the tangles out for him this morning with long, slow strokes that had felt like a caress, and now it fell in silken strands between his fingers. He was tempted to leave it loose, but he could imagine the disapproving looks of his father, so he took the time to braid it. His parents would be expecting him to look his best, and he had to admit that seeing them again almost made dressing up worth it.
Almost.
Hair done, he picked up the looking glass from the table and regarded his handiwork. With his hair tied back and his face shaved bare of the rough stubble he’d been sporting, there was no denying that he looked every inch a prince. He put the mirror down and ignored the voice that whispered,because you are.
The door opened. “Oh, just look at you, love.”
Vasily turned to find Mother gazing at him, and some of his discomfort eased in the face of Mother’s undisguised admiration. He gave a small formal bow, a smile playing around his lips. “Prince Vasily Anatoly Alexei Pasha Petrov, at your service.”
Mother grinned. “We can get to the servicing later. First, I have to get ready for this bloody lunch.”
Vasily laughed, his nerves easing, and it didn’t take Mother long to wash, brush his own wayward locks with more care than normal, and dress in a well-fitted shirt and trousers that made him look rather dashing.
