Alexei huddled under his uncle’s arm as they snuck back to their rooms. He smiled brightly when he received a parting kiss on the forehead and closed the door behind him with a yawn, crawling back under the light blankets and slipping into a sleep filled with dreams of future mischief and an entire summer of having an accomplice who didn’t holler at him for trying to see how high he could climb in the pines or how dirty he got when trying to find the grouse dens to see how many eggs had been laid that year.

However he found himself with nothing to do the next morning and well into the afternoon for he saw neither father nor uncle. True to his uncle’s word he discovered that his father wasn’t feeling well and had declined to attend either breakfast or lunch. Alexei had tried to sneak into his father’s room to see for himself but Byely was firm in keeping him from disturbing the resting man and he’d relented, recognizing the seriousness in his father’s guardian that brooked no argument.

By the time the sun had begun its decent he was well on his way to losing his mind to boredom and only found a small release when his father’s guardian appeared to take him out to the city to collect a few supplies the household needed. Such a trip, however, turned out to be only a brief respite and he found himself prowling the garden maze at dusk in search of something to take his mind off of the pressing loneliness.

Back at the palace he was never lonely for there was always someone about to drag into a game or an adventure. Most didn’t go willingly but that didn’t matter to him. All he wanted was another person by his side or at his back. They didn’t even have to talk to him to make him happy. They just had to be there.

He had spent countless hours just sitting next to his father while both worked on the assignments required of them. While his father answered requests from his boyars and neighboring tsars he worked on his letters and on the histories that were given to him. Some days he would even sit in the council while his father fielded arguments between greedy nobles, ignoring their raised voices as he repeated the day’s lessons over and over in his mind.

It was one of the reasons he still lived in his father’s suite even though he had been offered his own set of rooms when he had turned twelve. His peers had exclaimed over the wonderment of having rooms all to themselves but where they had seen glorious privacy he saw horrible loneliness.

How could he possibly fall asleep without hearing his father rustling paper in the study next to his room? How could he wake if it wasn’t to the sound of his father’s voice in the morning and the rustling of servants coming in and out? How could he make it through the long nights when he crept to the door and opened it so he could hear his father’s soft breath at night?

He had shuddered at the thought and refused to sleep in the rooms provided for him. His manners instructor had counseled his father to be firm in the decision to teach him a bit of independence and for a few nights his father had sternly sent him away come the time for bed but every night Alexei crept back to his old rooms. His instructor had whispered in his father’s ear again and one night he had found the door locked. He’d sat down in the hall where his father had found him the next morning, red eyed and shaking from lack of sleep. For three nights they continued this dance, neither of them sleeping for the knowledge that the other was sitting just beyond the locked door yet horribly unable to reach each other.

By the third night his father had been as drained as he had and had once again turned to the only source of female help he had available to him. Once again the instructor had tried to intervene but this time when she had suggested locking him in his own set of rooms his father had sent her away with the order to re-evaluate how she defined “independence” and Alexei had joyfully moved back into his old room.

As he grew older he could no longer stand being cooped up for long periods of time, even with his father’s presence, so he had enlisted the friendship of a gangly merchant’s daughter who had praised his skills at chasing the palace ducks from one point to the other with losing not a one. At the time she had thought him a budding shepherd or servant and had been blunt with her words, a novelty that had intrigued him for no one but his father had ever spoken to him like an equal before.

Eventually he’d been forced to tell her who he was but not until after he had gotten her to swear that she would ever treat him as anything other than some half mad shepherd that loved to get right down to nature and explore all of its nuances. He had taken a certain amount of pleasure in dragging her about the palace one rainy day that had kept them locked indoors. He had taken her up and down stairs and roundabout so thoroughly that she soon had lost all her bearings and didn’t realize what part of the palace they had ended up in. She had been impressed with the rooms they had finally come to and they had settled in before one of the fireplaces, playing out game after game until his father had drifted through, his nose buried firmly in one of his old books.

He had laughed in delight at the series of emotions that had run through her face when she realized whose fireplace they were hording and whose rooms she was busily dripping water all over. His father had made a token attempt at being annoyed by the fact that Alexei had ruined yet another new set of cloths by dancing about in the rain before politely acknowledging his guest.

Alexei had introduced Sofiya, who had just begun to get over her initial shock, as his betrothed and explained that they had simply gotten caught in the rain on their way to the chapel but as soon as it let up they would be on their way out. Sofiya had turned a fascinating shade and smacked him upside the head as was her wont when he was being purposely difficult before realizing what she had done and gone a very blanched white.

His father had laughed and proclaimed it a good match since she seemed perfectly capable of keeping an eye on him. Since then Sofiya had become the first person he sought out during the day and usually the last person he saw before his father dragged him back inside for dinner.

Alexei found himself missing her now as he navigated the twists and turns of the maze.

Soft voices caught his attention and he froze, cocking his head. He recognized his uncle’s deep voice followed by his father’s. A grin spread across his face as thoughts of mischief ran through his head. He slunk through the bends that he knew would take him to where he suspected they were hiding, grinning to himself.

True to his instincts the voices got clearer as he approached one of the dead end sections of the maze that had been turned into a well-concealed little area. He had heard someone once call them a ‘trysting nook’ but his father had refused to explain to him what that meant. He had asked Sofiya who had shrugged and told him it was a place where people went to talk privately about things that would be of no interest to anyone else.

Alexei crept towards the thickest part of the concealing bushes where he hoped he wouldn’t be seen. He’d always wondered what people talked about that would be of no interested to him. As hard as he tried he couldn’t bring himself to imagine anything that might pass between his uncle and his father that he wouldn’t want to know about. The two of them were full of stories and knowledge that always fascinated him.

Quietly he lay down on his stomach and peered under the bush where the foliage was less. His father must have been feeling tired again for he practically lay against his uncle’s chest, cradled in his uncle’s muscled arms as his black cloak covered both of them like a blanket. His uncle whispered something that did not reach his ears but his father heard it for he looked up at the other man.

His uncle cradled his father’s face in his hands and drew him forward into a kiss. His father’s cloak slipped as he rose up a bit on his arms and moved forward slightly. The movement made his uncle throw his head back and cry out softly, his hands tightening on the black haired man’s arms and causing the cloak to slide down a bit farther, revealing long lengths of bare skin.

Alexei froze.

He knew suddenly as his father pulled back slightly only to push forward again and ring another soft cry from his uncle that this was not a scene he should be witnessing. It was not a scene that he had even thought possible. Choking back a shocked cry he fled on silent feet, taking the maze’s twists and turns without thought, his mind too full of forbidden knowledge.

He reached the small creek and collapsed to his knees, trying desperately not to throw up. He had seen such an act before but it had always been between males and females, never between two men. Such an act between two men had never occurred to him before and it shook him deeply.

He didn’t know how long he knelt at the edge of the creek for time passed differently to his shocked mind but all too soon he heard his name being called. Relief passed through him at the realization that it was Byely who was calling for him and not his father or uncle. Pushing himself up he answered the call but refused the order to clean for dinner. He feigned a sudden bout of weariness and took a small portion of food to his room where he flung the food to the dogs below his window and climbed into his bed though he knew that he would receive no sleep.

Some time late he heard feet outside of his door and he closed his eyes tightly. The door opened and his father made a token attempt at rousing him. He kept his eyes closed and his breath even. After a few minutes he heard his father’s soft sigh and his footsteps retreated from the bedside. There was an exchange between his father and his uncle but to his relief the door was closed and they left him alone.

He lay awake long into the night, his mind running furiously through his memories and dragging everything into a new light. Come morning he refused breakfast but he knew that if he did not make an appearance for lunch his father would come to check on him again. He found he could not bare the thought of being alone with the man for he feared that a confession of his spying would slip from his lips.

So when the lunch bell was rung he dressed in somber greys, unable to bring himself to don his usual bright garb and shuffled to the dinning hall. His father and uncle were already there and he kept his gaze fixed firmly on his food as he picked at it.

He flinched when his uncle reached for him, remembering that less than a day before it had been his father’s flesh those hands had touched and he winced at the pain he could sense in those hastily withdrawn fingers. He had not meant to hurt his uncle but he simply couldn’t bare his touch at the moment.

His father grilled him about his health and he made up an excuse about not sleeping well. He could see his father’s reflection in the table and he saw the way his father’s emerald eyes flashed towards his uncle. He shuddered and drew his gaze back to his plate. How had he been so blind? How could he have never noticed the thousand glances that passed between them? How could he have missed the needless brushing of hands or body that passed between his uncle and his father? How could he have never wondered at his uncle’s sleeping arrangements? Oh he had asked why his uncle always slept on the couch in his father’s room and he had been told that it was because they were often up talking late into the night and did not wish to cause talk by having his uncle leave at strange hours.

He couldn’t help wondering just how many nights his uncle had really slept on that couch. He was willing to bet it was fewer than the fingers on his hand. With a murmured excuse he slipped away from the table and fled back to his room where he once again climbed into in bed and huddled under the covers.

Trey frowned deeply as the young prince fled from the table. Ivan half stood to follow him but after a moment’s thought lowered himself back down into his chair. He had seen Alexei flinch from his touch and noted that the boy would not look at either of them all through the meal. He had been uncharacteristically quiet but this quirk Trey could explain away with the excuse of illness. The other two he could not.

“He didn’t even eat.” Ivan murmured as he reached out to pull the plate of pulverized food to him.

“He seemed well enough yesterday morning when he was trying to wake you up. I heard Byely chase him off twice.” Trey replied.

Ivan sighed. “I’ll let him sleep for a few hours before I take a tray in and try to coax him into eating. If he isn’t better by tomorrow morning we should head back to the palace where the healers can see to him.”

Trey chewed on his lip, staring through the empty doorway. “It’s a strange illness to strike so quickly,” he mused, “and as I recall Alexei was always desperate for comfort when he got ill.”

His lover sighed heavily. “Yes but he is getting older, perhaps his needs are changing.”

Trey fixed him with a suspicious stare. “And how are you feeling?”

Ivan grimaced. “Well enough.”

A snort escaped from his companion. “Nonsense. I think you should rest as well."

Ivan shook his head. “I am done with resting. There are new spells I should be studying.”

Trey stood and caught his wrist. “No,” he said firmly, “you’ve been pushing yourself too hard. Come now, rest a bit and then we shall look after your son.”

Ivan allowed himself to be pulled out into the hall and back to the room where Trey left Byely with instructions to leave them alone for a few hours as he urged a half protesting tsar into shedding his cumbersome robes and into bed. By the time he had climbing in as well Ivan had stopped protesting and lay quietly as he brushed the hair away from his face.

He smiled softly and couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to his lover’s lips, smiling at the contented sound that Ivan made. He pulled back and stared down at the man he had known for over half of his life. Ivan opened his eyes and peered up at him curiously.

“You’re beautiful, do you know that?” Trey whispered.

As he had hoped a faint blush painted across Ivan’s high cheeks and green eyes lowered. “So you say.” Ivan replied quietly.

Trey laughed and kissed his lover’s forehead. “You will always be beautiful to me and I won’t let anyone say otherwise, even you.”

Ivan’s hands traced his face and he shivered as soft fingers ghosted over his left eye and down his cheek, following a trail that only memory could find now. “I never thought that I would miss it.” Ivan whispered, a small frown pulling at his lips.

Trey caught Ivan’s wrist and kissed the scarred palm. “I don’t miss it at all,” he murmured, “It was a mark of ownership from a man I did not chose to give myself to. They all were.”

Ivan shook his head. “I know but they were a part of you and it pains me to see that she has taken even such a hated part.”

Trey shrugged and licked along the long scar on Ivan’s palm. The rusalki, Libertine, had expressed distaste at the scars he bore from the hands of his former master and had removed them with her magic, taking discolored flesh and smoothing it out so that his skin was as unblemished as it had been when he had first come to Vislav’s palace. He had thought that Ivan would be happy with the removal the scars, especially the one his father had long ago carved on his face but he had been wrong. Ivan had protested but there was nothing to be done. The fae’s magic had been cast and there was no going back.

Shaking himself free of such thoughts, Trey returned his attention to the man he loved. With careful hands he brushed the long black hair away from Ivan’s face, spreading out like a fan on the pillows. A very small frown tugged at his face and though he chased it away as soon as it occurred Ivan caught it.

“What’s wrong?” His lover demanded.

Trey shook his head. “Nothing.”

Ivan’s eyes narrowed and Trey sighed in defeat.

“If I were any other man I would be jealous of you, my tsar.” He said, reaching out to finger a long black lock. “Five and forty this year and yet your hair shows no sign of graying nor your face any mark of age. If I did not know better I would say you had aged no more than three or four years since we were forced to part. I am tempted to claim you have found a way to cheat time.”

Ivan laughed and shrugged. “Perhaps time is afraid of me.”

Trey grinned predatorily and captured his lover’s lips with his own, gaining a startled gasp in response. “Perhaps it is afraid of what I will do to it if it tries to mar what I love so much.”

Another laugh slipped shivered against his lips. “Are you saying you wouldn’t love me if I was wrinkled and grey?”

Trey pulled back and shook his head. “Not at all. We would just have to make sure to turn out all the lights before we did anything.”

Ivan gave him a playful scowl and with a yelp the red haired man found himself deposited firmly on the floor.

He growled and climbed back up onto the bed. Ivan grinned and moved to flee but Trey caught him about his waist and dragged him back. They tumbled down onto the mass of covers and Trey devoured his prey, nipping at Ivan’s bared chest until the black haired man was gasping for breath. Thin fingers wrapped about the collar he wore and he yelped as he was suddenly dragged upwards into in a possessive kiss.

Groaning into Ivan’s mouth he let the power play between them change as he was manipulated onto his back. Ivan straddled his hips, talented fingers teasing his nipples until he thrashed in pleasure. His head fell back as Ivan shifted, lifting him onto his lap and entering him.

They moved against each other slowly, reveling in the flesh on flesh contact. They had long ago lost the need for words. All the pretty speeches had been said between them and were now echoed in gentle touches and soft kisses. They let their bodies speak for them and at the moment of completion they clung to each other, wordlessly defying the fates that struggled to keep them apart.

Ivan knocked softly at his son’s door. When there came no answer he pushed it open and slipped inside, carefully balancing the full tray on his hip as he kicked the door closed and moved towards his son’s side.

“Alexei?” He whispered, gently nudging his son’s shoulder. “Come on, wake now.”

Alexei shivered under his touch but obediently rolled over and peered at the tray with golden eyes. “Not hungry.”

Ivan chuckled and sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m afraid it doesn’t matter. Come on now, just a small bit.”

Alexei sighed and sat up. Ivan frowned and reached out to feel for a fever. His son flinched and pulled away, his golden eyes stared down at his clasped hands.

Ivan let his hand fall away and passed the tray to his son. “If you are still not feeling better by morning we’ve decided to return home so you can be looked after properly.”

His son blinked in surprise and looked up at him sharply. “No!” He protested, earning an upraised brow, “I mean . . . I know how much you enjoy spending the month here. It . . . you should stay. Everyone says you work too hard and should have a holiday to relax.”

Ivan shook his head. “It does not matter. If you are ill we need to go home. Perhaps I will be able to free up some time near the end of summer and we can return then.”

“But he’ll be gone by then.” Alexei whispered.

His father sighed. “I know but the two of us can spend some time together. Maybe even discuss future plans. You’re getting older and it’s about time you started taking on a few simple tasks to prepare you for when you are tsar. Perhaps we will even invite your friend. See how she likes political life since you’ve decided to make her your tsarina.”

Alexei blushed at his father’s teasing. “Shouldn’t you be looking for a new tsarina yourself?” He blurt out before he could stop himself.

His father frowned. “What do you mean?”

Alexei wrung his hands together as he turned to stare out the window. “Everyone’s always saying you should get a new tsarina, aren’t they? To cement alliances and have more heirs.”

Ivan snorted. “I hardly need to cement anymore allies and I most certainly don’t need anymore heirs. You are quite enough trouble as it is.”

“But don’t you get lonely?” Alexei asked, “Don’t you miss doing those things men and women do?”

He caught the look of distaste that flashed over his father’s face though it was only present on his father’s face for a brief second before it was gone. “These are not things we should be discussing . . .”

“Or does my uncle take care of those needs for you?”

Alexei watched as his father suddenly stiffened, his face dropping into the mask he wore during court. It was the mask he used to keep other from knowing what was going on his mind and Alexei recognized it well.

“I saw you,” he admitted quietly, “I know . . .” He shuddered and found he could not voice what he had seen. “How could you do that? How could you lie with my mother’s brother? Did she know? Is that why she left? Did you use her just to have me and then turn her aside? Is that why you were never there when I was very young? Is that why I never saw you until I was seven and my mother had fled? How could you do that?” He demanded, “How could you lock her up all alone in that house? How could you leave her like that? How could you do those things to someone you loved?”

His father was terribly silent for a long time and Alexei felt tears stinging his eyes. He brushed at them angrily, hating this show of weakness but unable to stop the pain in his heart.

“I did not love her, nor she I.” His father said quietly.

He gasped and looked up at his father’s profile. “What?” He whispered.

His father stood and paced towards the window. “I always knew that you would find out sooner or later though we have tried out best to keep it from you. But it was inevitable and . . . I think you are old enough to understand now.”

“Understand what?”

His father turned to look at him. “I did not love your mother, Alexei, and she did not hold any love for me. It is not an unusual thing between people of our status. You said it yourself, a tsar is expected to marry to cement alliances and provide heirs. Very often there is no love in such a relationship.”

“Then why did you marry her?” Alexei asked.

“Because she provided me with an heir and it kept the people of Dolmat from closing trade routes with this kingdom. Your mother was Tsarina of Dolmat before her first husband was captured and killed. Fate lead she and I to a compromise that kept her comfortable while providing me with you.”

Alexei shook his head. “Mother was not like that,” he whispered, “she didn’t care for luxury or riches. She ran off for the life of a commoner.”

His father shrugged. “It was the best offer she had open to her at the time.”

“You married her for an excuse to keep my uncle close. Not for me.” Alexei accused, feeling the pain of betrayal hot in his chest.

His father came to him and gathered him up in his arms, ignoring the young prince’s protests. “No, little one,” Ivan whispered, cradling him, “I married her for you. I already had an excuse to keep Trey close. I did not need her for such a thing.”

Alexei sniffed. “What excuse?”

His father sighed and stroked his hair. “You must understand that things were complicated then. Things were done that should not have been and I was young and did not know better.”

Those words sent a shiver of fear through Alexei. “What excuse?” He asked again, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.

His father sighed. “Trey was my slave. My . . . personal slave. Do you understand that?”

Alexei nodded numbly, remembering stories he had read that involved such things. “I thought only women were used for that.”

Bitter laughter stirred his hair. “No. There are many who would have the world think that love and desire is black and white, man and woman. They don’t wish to think that there are some of us who do not prescribe to such things. They choose to pretend that it never occurs that sometimes two men or two women come to share a bed.”

“How did you get a firebird as your slave?” Alexei asked.

His father leaned back, forcing him to curl up against him. “Ah, well I did not know he was a firebird then. Trey is adept at keeping secrets, even from me. It wasn’t until after I met your mother that I discovered his secret. As for how he came to be my slave, I saved him from your mother’s first husband, though they were not married then. I brought him back here as a prize.”

Alexei shivered at the thought of his uncle in chains and made to serve. “So . . . mother knew about you and Trey?” He asked, wishing to turn to other things to banish such thoughts.

“Yes. We had been together for nearly three years by then and I had come to love him. She understood that and entered into our bargain anyway. She lost the ability to become a firebird and raised you until she found a man she loved. By then you were old enough to come live with me so I let her go. I gave her and her shepherd enough money to make a new life where they willed, away from the pain and harsh memories of the world she had known.”

Alexei sighed, twirling a strand of his father’s around his finger. “So she left me. Like a bird leaves its young.”

His father’s arms tightened around him and he found a small measure of comfort there. “Your mother was a strange woman. She . . . she loved a different way. She knew you would be taken care of and that I would love you where she could not. As I have said before, we had a loveless marriage that forced her to live a lonely life. She couldn’t take any other lovers for if she did it would mean that people would question your parentage. You must admit that you show traits from a source other than mine. You will always be my son and I would never disown you but when you take the throne I did not want there to be any cause for dissent. Your first few years will be difficult for everyone will be trying to see just how far you can be pushed and how far you will bend before you break. You do not need the added problems of a questioned blood line.”

“Do you think she loved me at all?” Alexei asked softly.

His father kissed the top of his head. “I cannot answer that for she was a mystery to me. In the end I don’t think it should matter because Trey and I love you enough for a whole harem of mothers.”

Alexei laughed despite his tears. “Can we go out to the market tomorrow? Just the three of us?” He asked.

“Yes, little love. I think that would be a fine idea.”

That summer Alexei found himself changing as he learned to adjust his views of life. At first he was still bothered by the little touches and looks that passed between his father and uncle but gradually he realized that they brought smiles to his father’s usually serious face and decided that it was not such a bad thing after all.

The gentle warmth of the beginning of summer turned into the searing heat of July until finally beginning to decline into the coolness of autumn. The lessening heat brought smiles to people’s faces but it brought frightening new realizations to the young prince for he knew that soon his uncle would leave. Before he had been sad to see his uncle go but he had been sad for his own reasons. Now he wondered at his father’s sadness. How hard must it be to let go of the man he loved for another nine months?

As July began its decline he saw the desperation building in his father. He saw it in the way his father clung to his uncle’s hand a bit tighter than he had before. He saw it in the stares his father settled on the man when he thought no one was looking. He saw it in the sudden obsession his father was succumbing to as he began having boxes upon boxes shipped to the palace.

And then there were the fights.

Alexei knew he was not supposed to hear them for they were conducted with hushed voices behind a locked door but he was attuned enough to his father and his uncle’s mood to know that there was a source of contention between them. One night he had sat outside of his father’s door and he had heard the angry words being exchanged between them.

His father began to lock himself in his study for long hours at a time and his face turned gaunt. His uncle would try to coax him away from his pile of books and a new argument would spark between them until both fell into an uneasy silence, his uncle standing in the doorway while his father continued reading as though nothing had happened.

It frightened him.

Finally, in the last dying days of July, Alexei cornered his uncle and demanded to know how he could be so cruel as to leave his father. His uncle had stared at him with sad eyes and told him that he had no choice. He must leave. Alexei had pleaded and begged but his uncle would not change his mind.

Two days later saw the firebird leave the palace.

Two months later the Tsar lay dying.

A month after that frightening revelation a fifteen-year-old boy was forced to give up his childhood and step into his father’s role.