But he couldn’t stop himself from leaning into Vasily, their thighs pressed together under the table, and putting a hand on Vasily’s leg in one last, illicit touch.
Vasily blinked rapidly and then, glancing down at where Mother’s hand was resting on his thigh, seemed to steel himself. He straightened his spine, stuck his chest out, looked his father in the eye, and said, “No.”
Mother’s breath caught.
No?
Vasily couldn’t be choosing him. Could he?
Then Vasily slipped a hand under the table, put it on top of Mother’s, and squeezed—and that, that told Mother all he needed to know.
King Alexei tilted his head, his brow creased as if he had trouble understanding. “But…you need to come home. Take your place.”
Vasily jutted his chin out. “I said no. I want to stay here.”
The king’s eyebrows raised, and his face started to go an alarming shade of purple right before he slammed his fist on the table. “You do not say no to me! Why would you possibly want to stay here?”
“I like it here,” Vasily said, his voice shaking. “I have…friends here.”
“Friends?”Alexei roared, standing and towering over Vasily. “You are disobeying your king forfriends?”
Mother had to wrap the hand not settled on Vasily’s leg around the edge of the chair to stop from launching himself across the table and punching Alexei in the face, king or no, becausenobodyspoke to his Vasily like that.
“Alexei.”
The queen’s voice rang out like a whipcrack, and Alexei stiffened at the sound of it. Mother dared to glance her way, only to find Irina sitting calm and collected, one eyebrow raised, with her gaze fixed on her husband—who, it appeared, was sitting down.
“Better,” Irina said. “There is no need for suchdrama, Alexei.”
Despite himself, a choked laugh escaped Mother. Next to him, Vasily turned and gave him a small hopeful smile, and Mother got the feeling that perhaps he’d underestimated Queen Irina.
Leopold turned to the king and let out a loud sigh. “Honestly, Alexei, I feel for you. There’s nothing worse than a wayward child who doesn’t step up to their responsibilities. Especially a prince who won’t pull their weight.”
Mother stiffened and hoped like hell that Leopold wasn’t going to insist Vasily leave, because that would mean Mother would be forced to punchtwokings in a single day, and he wasn’t sure he could cope with that.
But he would, if it came to it.
Alexei, sensing he had an ally, nodded. “They don’t understand the meaning of responsibility.”
“Quite,” Leopold agreed. “They’re quite feckless when left to their own devices. I’ve experienced it myself, in fact.”
“Oh?” Alexei sat forward, interested now.
“Mother Jones,” Leopold drawled casually, like there wasn’t a power struggle going on around the dining table. “My own son, Davin, worked for you as a stable boy, correct?”
Mother’s brow creased in confusion. What did Davin have to do with Vasily leaving? “You know he did, sire.”
“What—” Felix started to say. Leopold held a hand up for silence.
Felix closed his mouth with a snap, and Leopold continued as if the interruption had never happened. “And what was he like as a worker, Mother?” He caught Mother’s eye and something like mischief flashed across his face, there and gone again.
Mother was suddenly reminded that King Leopold was known for being anexcellentdiplomat. Despite all evidence to the contrary, he began to hope that perhaps there was a way out of this that didn’t involve him fist-fighting monarchs after all.
He swallowed and said, “He was completely bloody useless, sire. Didn’t know one end of a shovel from the other and had a rubbish attitude to boot. Thought he was far too good for the stables. Rude, lazy little git, he was.”
“Hey!” Crown Prince Davin protested, sitting up straight. “I’m right here! And I wasn’tthatbad!”
Leopold raised a disbelieving eyebrow at his son. “You really were.” He turned his attention back to Mother. “And when did he start to improve?”
