There's a fleeting moment, between dreaming and consciousness, where Yuri thinks he's died; well, perhaps not so dramatic as that. He thinks he might be ill or injured in some way, because he's warm all over and a shooting pain is what jolts him into the waking world.

When his eyes snap open there's a pained gasp on the tip of his tongue and a hand resting gently against his clavicle.

"Yuri, are you alright?" Otabek asks in a hushed tone, concern painted across his features.

"Yes," Yuri breathes out, recollecting his memories of the night before as his wide eyes stare into Otabek's.

"Are you certain?" He reiterates the question with a quiet plea for honesty.

"I am… thank you." Yuri squirms a bit and hisses sharply, "Just a bit sore, it is of no consequence."

"I'm sorry." Otabek winces in response.

"Don't be." Yuri implores him as he reaches up a hand to touch Otabek's cheek. "I hope I did not wake you."

"No, I'm a bit of an early riser." Otabek admits.

"How long have you been up?" Yuri asks, pulling himself into a seated position and schooling his features expertly to bite back a grimace.

"Not long, I didn't want you to wake up alone."

Yuri smiles at that. "We're expected at breakfast, yes?"

"We are anticipated, but not expected. If you would rather we remain withdrawn from our guests, I would not be opposed."

"Your father is returning to Astana today. It would be rude of us not to see him off," Yuri says lazily, not quite wanting to do what he's suggesting.

"He would understand," Otabek muses before mindlessly leaning forward to kiss his husband's forehead.

"Otabek-"

"What do you really want, Yuri?"

The prince shakes his head. "I don't want to go, but I don't want your father to think I'm hiding from him… or anyone really."

His lordship sighs, "I don't know why you're so concerned about my father."

Yuri swallows thickly. "It's not just him."

"I think you deserve to have your rest. We had a full day yesterday and I think we are well within our rights as a newlywedded couple to hide away." Otabek runs his thumb along the side of Yuri's head. "Even if it's only for a little bit longer."

Yuri smiles slightly at the thought of it; staying right here in the warm embrace of his husband. "What an impasse."

"Is it?"

"I want to stay, you say we should stay, but our-"

"If you speak of our duty, I will surely go mad," Otabek chuckles. "Your wellbeing is my duty, your happiness is my duty, breathing is also a duty I do believe. Perhaps you can take a break from your insistence on perfection and our public perception. You don't have to be perfect here."

The prince glows from within at the idea of that; of letting down his guard and having an opportunity to rest from his performance of perfection. There's an awkwardness there too, he admitted such a fear to his lordship during a particularly vulnerable moment. He doesn't want to think about it, but it's clear that Otabek is also still lingering in the terrible things that happened last night.

"Alright," Yuri hums in agreement, leaning into Otabek's touch further still.

His lordship gives a fond smile as he runs his hand through Yuri's hair. "I should call for a meal, then."

"Stay," Yuri implores him, pushing himself onto his knees and wrapping his arms around Otabek's middle.

"As you wish," Otabek mutters fondly into the crown of Yuri's head. For another tender moment or two Yuri buries his face into Otabek's chest.

"You're so warm," Yuri murmurs fondly.

"Our blood runs hot in the south, I suppose," Otabek chuckles.

"Did you sleep well?"

"I slept fine; I think we were both quite worn out after everything."

"Mhm…"

"I must apologize again, for last night-"

"I don't want to talk about that." Yuri mutters.

"Alright." Otabek relents, Yuri cannot see his face, but he feels like there's a sadness in his tone. Perhaps even a longing in it, Yuri isn't certain he's able to handle that conversation just yet.

Yuri begins to draw lazy patterns along Otabek's shoulder. "I think I should like it very much if we are to take the day slowly."

"Then we will, of course."

"You should not get into the habit of spoiling me, Otabek. I might get used to it," he teases.

"I would hardly call it spoiling after everything… Still, if you believe it to be so, I think that you should get used to the idea."

Yuri likes the way Otabek's fingers trickle down his spine, he likes the way his chest rises against his ear. A part of him thinks that he shouldn't feel so comfortable here; he has a job to do after all. Outside this room he's a prince, he has a family name to uphold and that is not something he takes lightly.

Furthermore, the relationship he has with this man is so very odd. They've known each other for all of three months and they've seen the barest parts of one another; both literally and metaphorically. It's a strange sort of bond they have now.

As cruel as it sounds, Yuri was somewhat relieved when Otabek admitted his own fear last night. It brought him… comfort is not the right word, but it certainly made him feel less alone. Otabek is something of a stoic figure, his emotions are guarded and he gives off an air of intensity. To hear by his own admittance that this situation was frightening and overwhelming… it brought a calm to Yuri's heart that he did not know he needed.

Eventually, Otabek rises from the bed and calls for breakfast to be brought to them. Yuri remains in their bed and looks out towards the open window, a gentle summer breeze filtering in with the early morning sun.

He glances back over towards his husband and is once again struck with awe that he even has a husband. He's been married for a full day now, and as shocking as that is, what's more is that he doesn't despise it as much as he had previously anticipated.

Yuri recalls his brief time being betrothed (unofficial as it was) to Lord Leroy; he remembers the fear and the dread of the match. Certainly, Yuri was afraid to some extent to be wed to Otabek, but not nearly to such a degree. Otabek is nothing if not devoted, even if the start to their wedded life has been strained… Yuri believes that he's sincere in his apologies and tenderness. He hopes that isn't foolish of him.

Otabek returns to the bed and gingerly tucks a strand of hair behind Yuri's ear. "Let's get you settled, yes?"

Yuri nods lethargically, but before he can pull himself upright, Otabek has his arm under the prince's knees and behind his back. In one swift motion Yuri is cradled against Otabek's chest and he blushes brightly in response.

"I-I can stand!" Yuri squeaks out.

"Hm? I thought we were letting me dote on you," Otabek chuckles with a smile.

"Well I-" Yuri stops himself as Otabek gently lowers him to the sofa. "A warning would have been nice."

Otabek blushes at that. "My apologies."

"It's… it's nothing," Yuri assures him and steals his hand. "Sit with me."

His lordship gives a nod and sits beside his husband. Yuri drapes his legs over Otabek's lap in an attempt to pull himself closer. They sit in an awkward quiet for a moment, and Yuri's mind races as he tries to conjure up a conversation. Otabek looks less perturbed by the silence; he smiles with ease and runs a knuckle along Yuri's calf.

"Silence doesn't bother you, does it?" Yuri asks to break up his inner awkwardness.

"Hm?" Otabek glances up, blinking away a distant look in his eyes. "No, it doesn't bother me."

"Growing up with seven siblings will do that I suppose." Yuri chuckles, leaning back into the cushions beneath him.

"It will." Otabek nods.

"I'm sorry they were unable to attend."

"Oh, don't be, we were better for it."

"Is that so?"

"The little ones are a bit wild." Otabek shrugs.

"How little are they?"

His lordship looks off to the side as if to conjure the knowledge from thin air. "Kemal is the youngest, he just turned seven."

"Very little then," Yuri smirks at the thought.

"Very little." Otabek agrees.

"Are you close to any of them?"

"How do you mean? They're my brothers, we share the same blood, there isn't a closer bond I don't think."

"Brothers are blood, yes, but not all brothers are friends," Yuri explains.

"Ah… Well, Manhal is the closest I would call a friend. He's my younger brother by some four years… But he and I haven't had much interaction in some time."

"Why's that?"

Otabek sits in the question before answering, "I went to war, and he did not."

"I understand."

"No, you don't. And that's a good thing, I don't want you to understand that."

Yuri nods. "So you don't have a friendship with your siblings then."

"Not in the way you're thinking… We were… We are still quite close, as we always will be. We're family and I do love them. But I would not call my siblings friends."

The prince drops his gaze to his hand as he snakes his fingers around Otabek's.

"Might I ask, then, if you consider your brother a friend?"

Yuri lets out a breathy laugh. "If I knew such an answer, I would tell you."

"I see."

"Part of me is still disgusted with him for his actions…"

"And the other?"

"The other remembers how much fun we've had over the years," Yuri admits. "He was always a fool and supremely selfish… but we had so much fun growing up, running circles around the staff or avoiding our father's wrath. And he did care about me; I remember at one of my first parties - it was a silly little garden party and I was no more than seven years old at the time - he shoved a young lord into the fountain for calling me names."

"As he should have," Otabek chuckles.

"I wish I could say that I love my brother, and I suppose I do still love him… but I feel as though part of that image I had of him in mind is false."

"I think that is a part of growing up. Realizing that your reality is just that, yours, and one day… without warning… you awaken."

Yuri nods. "I wish I were still asleep sometimes."

"As do I…"

"When you awoke… were you alone?" Yuri chances the question.

"No," Otabek whispers. "I consider myself lucky in that."

"And you are," Yuri nods. "Anyway… I hope my brother didn't make too much of an idiot out of himself yesterday."

Otabek snorts, "He tried to threaten me… I think I frightened him."

"Ha!" Yuri tilts back his head with a laugh. "I'm certain you did, and I would have very much liked to have seen it."

"He told me that if I were to upset you he would send me running back to my homeland. So I begged the question; where would he run upon my return? He did not appreciate that."

"Viktor's a scoundrel but he's harmless… mostly." Yuri turns to look over his shoulder as Guang-Hong and Leo enter the room with breakfast trays. The two servants leave swiftly but Yuri catches both of their intrigued gazes.

"Mostly is an interesting way to put that."

"Viktor is harmless, until he thinks he's set his mind on the right thing. Father always talks about how if his children simply 'applied themselves' we'd be unstoppable. Whatever that means." Yuri rolls his eyes.

Otabek smirks. "I think he means you'd find the world at your beck and call."

Yuri chuckles, pulling their breakfast closer, "Or maybe it means we'd bother him less."

"That too."

The prince shakes his head and diverts the conversation towards the meal. He asks about the food in Astana, Otabek's favorite, and all manner of mundane things. It's nice, normal even, and Yuri finds that Otabek is easier to talk to than he had initially given him credit for. For the first time in a long while, Yuri feels his heart calm, like talking is easy and he doesn't need to hide away.

It's a nice change and he's grateful for an easy morning. His lordship insists that they bathe separately, and Yuri isn't certain if he's offended or relieved by the prospect. Otabek even admits that he called for such a thing when he sent for their breakfast.

Yuri lingers over the meal, knowing that languishing like this is a luxury not often afforded to him. And Otabek is happy to do so as well, the pair of them find that touch is easier than speech. Their fingers tie up in one another, Yuri's legs draping over Otabek's, the physical proximity is a comfort more than anything.

An hour or so must pass them by when Otabek is handed a note by the servant cleaning up their dishes. Yuri gives a sigh as he pulls his legs over the side of the sofa.

"Is it important?" Yuri asks.

"Not especially." Otabek shrugs, tossing the paper aside.

"Which means?"

"My father expects us at luncheon, to say our goodbyes."

Yuri gives one curt nod, "And so we will."

"Or we could stay here, with each other." Otabek leans in and kisses Yuri's cheek.

"We have to make an appearance sometime," Yuri chuckles, trying to be graceful as he stands but being brutally reminded of the lingering pain. His knees buckle as he braces himself against the side table.

"Careful!" Otabek stands.

"I'm fine," Yuri assures him weakly.

"You… I'm so sorry."

"It's alright, it is, I just… stood up too fast."

Otabek is silent for a moment, then he's cradling Yuri to his chest once more. "You'll feel better after a bath."

Yuri is trying fiercely to pretend he isn't swooning at the way Otabek carries him with ease. "R-right."

Guang-Hong is in the washroom testing the bath temperature when he turns around to see his charge in the arms of a warlord; the young servant gives a small, undignified sound before bowing to them.

"Your highness, your bath is ready." He says gently.

"Thank you, Guang." Yuri nods to him as Otabek places Yuri on a stool nearby the water.

"If you need me… call for me," Otabek says, gently lifting Yuri's chin so that their eyes meet.

"I will," Yuri assures him. Otabek leans in and kisses his forehead before walking back out of the washroom.

"Your highness… he seems, very attentive." Guang-Hong gives a sheepish chuckle.

"Indeed, he is." Yuri swallows thickly.

"Are you in need of assistance?"

Yuri blushes a deep shade of red and closes his eyes before nodding in the affirmative. Guang-Hong gingerly removes his garments and guides his charge into the bath.

"I hope that this was a… well, I hope that you are not… oh goodness I don't even know what to say." Guang-Hong covers his mouth is a laugh.

"You mean to ask if my injury was acquired through pain or through pleasure?" Yuri asks boldly, melting into the warm water.

"Well that's… I want to ensure you are well," Guang-Hong stutters.

"And I am well, I am in one piece and this agreement has been… consummated… on all levels."

"Oh yes… I can see that."

"Guang, don't tease me so! You know that's all I will be facing when I brave the dining hall for luncheon," Yuri bemoans, sinking further into the bath.

"I'll be done with my teasing soon, highness, I promise. I am just very glad to see that the experience was not so… harrowing as you had built it up in your mind." Yuri does not comment on that. "His lordship certainly seems to be dedicated to you and I am glad of it."

"Dedicated indeed," Yuri agrees.

"Your father was pleased by your absence at breakfast, he seems to believe it's a good sign for the match."

"Otabek wanted to be sure we were… that we had some part of this wedding entirely to ourselves."

"That was considerate of him." Guang-Hong smirks at Yuri.

"Don't be crass." Yuri shakes his head.

"I don't believe I was being crass. You're a married man now I think it's appropriate," Guang-Hong defends himself with a laugh.

"Please, Guang, I'm begging you. Spare me from your jests and insinuations. I am surely on a path of scrutiny now," Yuri complains. "I imagine for the next few months or even years I'll have every eye in the kingdom on me to see when we… when we are blessed with parenthood."

The thought makes Yuri shiver as he scrubs his body clean; that is the truth of the matter, after all, people will be expecting heirs. Quickly, if King Hakan and King Yakov have any say in the matter. That's leaving out the fact that Viktor will be anxiously awaiting the arrival of his future nephew to take the throne one day.

"And for now, you should enjoy your newlywedded bliss." Guang-Hong reminds him gently.

"How was your evening, Guang? Did you enjoy the festivities at all?"

"I enjoyed myself when time allowed for it, highness. The servant's hall was full of life when we were relieved from our duties."

"Hm." Yuri nods, "And did your Leo enjoy it?"

"Highness-"

"You came to our chambers together; I think I am within my rights to speculate," Yuri defends himself.

"Leaving out the fact that Mr. Igelsia is his lordship's valet, in a very similar role to myself in your life I might add… I'm certain he enjoyed himself." Guang-Hong grips the brush in his hand a bit tighter.

"Did you dance?"

Guang-Hong nods briefly before catching himself in the act, "Enough of that."

"It's nice to dream, Guang, I don't fault you for that. You should enjoy the fun of it all."

"Your highness…" Guang-Hong warns him.

"What is it? Why do you avoid it so? And don't hide behind a veneer of professionalism, I beg you."

The attendant shakes his head, "He's leaving soon, it's best not to dwell in dreams that are not attainable."

Yuri's heart drops at that, "Oh…"

"Please don't… it's nothing to trouble yourself with."

The prince gives a half-hearted chuckle, "Will you miss me half as much as him?"

"Of course I will, highness. We're friends of far more experience."

"Yes, but you are smitten with him and not me." Yuri laughs.

"I-I… I would not say smitten."

"Oh, then what would you say? Speaking honestly." Guang-Hong looks about the room as if searching for a way out of the conversation but cannot find one. "You are thoroughly besotted!"

"I see him as a handsome man who is good at his job, if a bit bumbling at times." Guang-Hong is quick to cover his charge's teasing. "Yes, I like him quite a bit, but we are not involved and we will not be."

"Indeed… Fine, your teasing is over." Yuri sighs as the work of washing begins in earnest.

He feels better after washing every inch of his body; the pain has eased and he feels more like himself again. In addition, he's relieved to be able to walk on his own and he does so. With purpose, he walks down to the gardens where he speaks with a few of the servants setting up luncheon.

There are a few moments of this quietude, wherein Yuri feels completely in control, before he feels two arms snake their way around his shoulders.

"Good afternoon, your highness! I hope your late arrival bodes well for you." Prince Phichit squeezes the younger prince tighter.

"I-… I don't know what you mean." Yuri blushes, worming out of his grasp.

"Oh, don't you? Everyone's been talking about your social evasion this morning. It's been a topic that all of us are endeared towards." Phichit laughs, looping his arm with the prince's and taking him towards the head of the table.

Yuri balks at the thought, "That is entirely inappropriate!"

"Is it? We're very happy for your… good fortune."

"How much does everyone… know?" Yuri asks in a hushed tone, looking over his shoulder to ensure they're not being listened in on.

"What do you mean? We know you hid away and that you stayed abed well into the morning… I'm hoping you will supply the rest." Phichit looks at him quizzically.

"Ah… well then… That's… ugh." Yuri rolls his eyes.

"So… were you avoiding the public eye for a good reason or a bad reason?"

"Phichit!"

"I have to know if my demeanor towards your husband should remain unchanged or if it should be cold. This is for your benefit," Phichit assures him with a snicker, then his face falls. "He did not hurt you, did he?"

"Your highness that is not-"

"He did then? Oh Yuri, I'm so-"

"Stop!"

"I'll be sure that Chris gives him what for, don't you-"

"It was good." Yuri covers his face with shame at the lie. But he cannot divulge the truth of the situation without causing a truly awkward encounter. Phichit will cause a scene if he's not reeled in, and Yuri cannot bear the thought of that.

"Oh?" Phichit asks with a hint of shock in his tone.

"Yes." Yuri's face burns with blush as he lifts his gaze.

"Well then, good for you," Phichit laughs.

"I am not accepting your praise on the matter." Yuri shudders, taking a glass of water and raising it to his lips.

"Come now, don't skimp on the details! How was it?" Phichit pushes further.

Yuri finds himself looking at the glass in his hand, and his mind drifts back to the night before. His hand wrapped around… and it was very much like… oh dear.

"Yura! Really!?" Phichit steals the glass out of his hand. "You poor thing."

"Phichit! Don't you dare!" Yuri gasps.

"I have just the thing for you, a salve that's practically magic. I'll have my attendant send the recipe to yours… You're going to need it." Phichit laughs at Yuri's blush. "Oh come now, you're a married man, such things should not scandalize you so."

"If it is not inappropriate at a luncheon, of all places, then it is certainly so as you are in the family way."

The prince consort scoffs, "And how do you imagine I came to be in the family way?"

"You delight in torturing me. And on this, the day after my wedding." Yuri stands from the table as he notices some guests filtering into the garden.

"I am devastatingly happy for you," Phichit assures him. "Might you need assistance? After all you've taken?"

"Ugh!" Yuri presses a hand to his forehead.

"Yes then?"

"I despise you." Yuri snarls. The pair walk into the crowd arm in arm. Yuri catches sight of Chris and Viktor having a chat, which sends a bit of heat into his chest. Before Phichit can force a confrontation, Prince Aysel approaches, and Yuri is not certain which fate is preferable.

"Your highness, it's so good to see you this afternoon." Prince Aysel leans forward and kisses Yuri's cheeks. "The wedding was so beautiful and I'm so glad to see that your match has been satisfactory."

Yuri nearly chokes on the breath he was taking.

Prince Phichit stifles a laugh in response. "I'll leave you to your family obligations, Yura, and I'll be sure to send my attendant as I promised. We do want you… better equipped next time."

"Phichit!" Yuri gasps as the man practically skips away. "I am so sorry about him."

"Don't be, it's all in good fun, and I am glad that your friends are looking out for you," Aysel chuckles. "How are you doing today, dear? You seem to be walking fine."

"I am quite embarrassed by the brazenness with which I've been spoken to about… my night." Yuri admits it with flushed cheeks and a laugh. "I fear I may faint what with all the blushing I've been doing."

"Don't be embarrassed, we're so happy for you. And we know exactly how you feel." The young prince is not certain that makes him feel any better, but his in-law continues, "I'm relieved that you are settling into your partnership and I know that married life will suit you. I think that we should discuss your departure at the end of the week."

"I see." Yuri nods slowly.

"The estate Hakan has given to Otabek does need some work, but I think you'll find it quite comfortable. I won't be able to accompany you as we had previously decided – I suppose that sounds like music to your ears," he laughs. "I'm certain that you'll take up your position well, you're more than adequately trained to do so. But you should know that Otabek's older brothers will be returning from the western front soon. They'll be staying with you for a little while, seeing as they missed the wedding."

"I understand," Yuri nods. "Thank you, I hope there's no trouble in the capital that's keeping you."

"None at all. I just have been away from the palace for far too long and I'm certain my little ones have been running amuck."

"Of course." Yuri nods.

"Aysel." Yuri's skin prickles at the voice of King Hakan. "I see you've cornered our new son."

"I'd hardly call it cornering," Aysel chuckles.

"Good afternoon, your majesty." Yuri bows his head towards the king.

"I'm surprised to see you emerge from your confinement, considering your disregard for a schedule this morning," he says humorlessly.

"Oh, don't tease him so," Aysel swats at him. "Let the boys enjoy their coupling in peace."

The king cracks a smile, "Well, it doesn't seem that I could disrupt such a thing, even if I should like to."

"Hakan," Aysel warns.

"Rest assured, your highness, I'm satisfied for the time being with this union. Although it seems your bark is worse than your bite."

Yuri's stomach drops to his feet. "I don't know what to say to that, your majesty."

"Hm, indeed." King Hakan tilts his head. "I might need you to give that son of a mine a talking to every now and then."

"Oh, you!" Aysel taps King Hakan's shoulder. "Don't let him drag you into his nonsense, your highness. He's a foolish old bull and his sense of humor is stale."

"You wound me." King Hakan does not look wounded as he says it. Yuri tries not to look positively aghast at the brazen way that Aysel speaks to the king.

"Mama, what are you doing to my husband?" Otabek's gentle, if a bit nettled, tone drags Yuri's gaze to him.

"We're congratulating him on your nuptials; I'm not being untoward, I assure you." Aysel kisses his son's cheeks. "Your father, however, is being a nuisance as always."

Otabek moves to Yuri's side, seeming to shield him from Hakan. "I hope you're satisfied, father."

"I am. But your husband is another story." Hakan looks unbothered. Yuri watches Otabek's hand twitch in response.

"That's inappropriate, dear," Aysel puts a hand to his temple.

Hakan does not acknowledge his husband. "Considering you acted so foolishly as to almost compromise this whole agreement, I'm disappointed that you didn't at least follow through with it. You let your own weakness keep you from getting what you want. Again."

"Hakan!" Aysel gives him a pointed look.

"You should have fought him if you cared so much; instead, you chose to be a coward and be reprimanded by your twig of a husband. You couldn't stand up to a waifish little boy in the face of something you seemed so incensed by. At least I know you'll discipline him well enough when the time for that comes."

"Hakan that is enough! Otabek, darling, why don't you-" Otabek is already walking away as Aysel speaks and Yuri finds himself stuck where he stands. "I hate that you push him like that, he-"

"He is my son, and he needs to man up; especially now that he is married and expected to produce heirs."

The term feels like a punch when King Hakan says it. Yuri is reminded of the vile insult he threw at his husband the night before and is duly ashamed.

"You're too harsh on him," Aysel insists.

"And you've made him soft. He's a man of the military, Aysel, not a delicate flower."

"Excuse me," Yuri finally manages to say, pulling away from the conversation and searching for his husband.

He sees Otabek in a far corner of the party, his hands gripping the veranda banister. There's a moment where he hesitates, afraid to rile the beast he saw in him the night prior. His determination wins out, however, and he takes in a deep breath.

"Otabek?" He asks softly.

His husband glances briefly at him but does not move nor does he speak.

"I… I'm sorry."

"Don't."

"He shouldn't speak to you that way, it was unseemly. You didn't deserve that."

"Go back to the party, Yuri."

"I'd like it very much if you would come with me."

"Why?" Otabek asks, a touch too harshly for either of their comfort.

"Because I think it is my right as your husband to show you off for a bit. Your father's piss poor mood should not spoil our happy occasion."

Otabek chuckles, "Such colorful language."

"Well, if you'd heard even half of what I have today you wouldn't be surprised that my tongue is a bit… coarse," Yuri teases.

His lordship does not move. "Do you think this is a happy occasion?"

"I am happy to be here and it's a lovely day. So yes."

"You know what I mean."

"I do know your meaning, and I hope you will be satisfied to know my answer. Yes, Otabek, my answer is yes." Yuri chances a gentle touch to Otabek's shoulder.

"Can I trust that?"

"You must, if for no other reason than I would be duly put out if you were to call me a liar." Yuri smiles. "Come. Please."

Otabek takes a final deep breath and allows his husband to guide him back to the festivities. Yuri ensures his expression is pleasant and his conversation is light. His husband stands silently by his side; Yuri does not mind his stoicism and honestly prefers it to his absence. Not that he would be ready to admit that just yet.

A fair number of the wedding guests did leave in the morning, so the group is much more manageable than it had been. Yuri is grateful for this in some regard; while the manageability of the congregation is a relief, it is also far more difficult to evade unwanted encounters. Yuri has to steer Otabek towards King Yakov to avoid a conversation with Viktor, and he thinks that he should feel guilty about such a thing.

"Ah, Yura, Otabek, it's good to see you both are socializing." King Yakov nods to them.

"Well, it was to be expected. Afterall, these events are in our honor." Yuri responds blithely.

"We are very appreciative of your generosity, your majesty. It was an excellent event," Otabek says with slight bow.

"Certainly, I look forward to the many years of happiness in store for you both." The king gives something close to a smile to Yuri's husband. Yuri is very nearly gob smacked by the interaction.

"As do we. Thank you for your confidence," Otabek chuckles.

"I expect you'll continue to earn it, if you know what's good for you." Yakov says it with a hint of humor in his tone.

"Indeed."

"I'd like to have a private dinner with you and your husband before you leave. Perhaps in two days' time when things have calmed down some."

"Yes, Papa," Yuri nods. King Yakov pats his son's cheek and walks away. "What was that?"

"Hm?" Otabek looks at his husband inquisitively.

"That? You're… you and my father are regular chums now?" Yuri can't help but give a disbelieving laugh.

"I wouldn't say that exactly." Otabek shrugs, a small, nervous smile spreading across his features. "He's a good man and we… we have had some very honest, productive conversations."

"Which means?"

"I like your father, is that so surprising?"

"Yes?" Yuri chuckles.

"Should I be more wary of him?"

"It's not that, it's… My father doesn't just like people."

"I would not say he likes me, necessarily. I would say we respect one another."

"That is a rarer occurrence still!"

"Hm… I will consider myself lucky in that case."

Yuri balks at him, "How did you do it then?"

"Do what?"

"Get him to like you?"

Otabek shakes his head, "I suppose my candor was enough."

Before Yuri can respond, the pair are interrupted by the very men the prince has been avoiding.

"Yura! Congratulations, I heard that you enjoyed yourself last night." Viktor sing-songs as he approaches.

"Viktor!" Yuri smacks his shoulder.

"Ow! I thought you'd be happy considering how big-"

"Stop talking," Yuri hisses at him.

"Good afternoon, your grace. I don't believe we've met; I'm Yuuri Katsuki of the eastern kingdom." Mr. Katsuki gives a formal bow towards Otabek.

"A pleasure to meet you." Otabek returns the gesture.

"Oh, little brother, it's been so long since you and my fiancé have spoken." Viktor emphasizes the term fiancé and it makes Yuri's skin crawl.

"I suppose that is true." Yuri agrees, casting his gaze towards his former tutor.

"It is good to see you again, your highness. You looked lovely yesterday and I am glad of it." Mr. Katsuki holds his gaze as long as he dares.

"Well, I hope you've been enjoying yourself, seeing as you've no qualms indulging," Yuri snips.

"The ceremony was intriguing; the blending of cultures is always a point of fascination for me." Mr. Katsuki blushes at Yuri's comment, but does not allow his tone to betray such a thing. "I hope that we might be able to speak more at length about it sometime, your lordship."

"Indeed," Otabek nods.

"Isn't this wonderful? Our husbands getting along so well! What a delight." Viktor coos at the exchange.

"Vitya, you're not married yet," Yuri reminds him humorlessly.

"And what a shame that is! We aren't set to marry until the wintertime and I'm simply chomping at the bit for it."

"I bet you are." Yuri responds through gritted teeth.

"Might I ask as to the reason for the delay?" Otabek asks.

"Oh, we just want the affair to be perfectly planned." Viktor tells him, as he spirals into a deep explanation of the pre-wedding traditions the pair expect to partake in. Lord Katsuki pulls Yuri into a separate conversation.

"It is good to see you, your highness, I've missed you during my travels."

"You will have to forgive me for not believing that to be true." Yuri bites back a sigh. Something deep within him demands he maintain his decorum around his former tutor, if for no other reason than he'd like to avoid a scolding.

"I cannot force your thoughts one way or another, but I would like to extend my congratulations for your union regardless of circumstance."

"You must think very well of yourself to say such things to me."

Mr. Katsuki sighs, "Your highness-"

"You seem to think you know about this match when, if I recall correctly, you weren't present for any of it." Yuri is in disbelief that he's having to explain.

"I am happy for you."

"For your benefit, not mine," Yuri says with confidence.

"If lashing out helps you feel better, then do so," Yuuri says softly. "I know that you have been through more in these last months than I can comprehend, but please, don't isolate yourself because of a perceived betrayal. Your brother and I care for you, and we are thrilled that this match is a good one."

Yuri doesn't respond; instead, he implores his husband to retire with him for the afternoon. His lordship heeds his husband's request, and they spend the rest of the afternoon in silence. Yuri takes a bit of a nap while Otabek ensures their affairs are in order for their departure.

In the evening, they manage to have a nice dinner with their remaining guests; thankfully that does not include King Hakan. An even better gift is the lack of inuendo during the meal, as it seems everyone has run out of quips to make at the newlywed's expense.

The next day, Prince Aysel makes his departure. Otabek does not seem bothered by this, but Yuri does make a point to stay close by him for the day. Chris and Phichit leave the following day, Yuri and Otabek have their dinner with King Yakov. By some miracle, no other rushed encounter is had between Yuri and his brother, nor does his former tutor make a point of interacting.

When the day of their departure arrives, Yuri nearly cannot believe it is happening at all. He moves through the palace like a ghost, watching his things be packed away to be taken with him to his new home. The idea of his new home is so daunting and surreal that he cannot fathom it.

He hugs his attendant tightly when his chambers are devoid of his belongings. Valiantly, he bites back tears when he speaks.

"I'll be back for my brother's wedding. It will feel like no time at all," the prince says with a shuddering sigh.

"Of course not, your highness, and you will flourish in your new home. I'm certain of it." Guang-Hong rubs his arms comfortingly.

"As am I," Yuri says less confidently.

"If you need anything at all, don't hesitate to send word," Guang-Hong reminds him.

"I will."

"I… I'm going to miss you, your highness."

"I'll miss you as well, Guang. Thank you… you've been good to me." Yuri hugs his attendant once more before heading down to the foyer.

His father, brother, tutor, and husband are all saying their goodbyes; Yuri steels himself as he approaches.

"Ah, good, I was beginning to think you'd run off." King Yakov's teasing is lost on Yuri.

"Just ensuring everything is in order." Yuri drops his gaze to his shoes.

"The palace is going to feel so empty without you, Yura! I never thought this day would come. I'm going to miss you so much!" Viktor pulls Yuri into an embrace. The younger boy surprises himself by returning the gesture. "In some seven or eight months' time we'll see each other again and my wedding will be just as spectacular as yours was."

"I look forward to it," Yuri mumbles.

"I'll be sure to write, your highness, I hope we can keep up a correspondence," Mr. Katsuki says with a genuine smile.

"I… I suppose we will try." Yuri nods to him.

"And don't forget about me now, I'm never too busy for my family," Yakov says, cupping his son's chin. "You will always have a place here, don't ever be afraid to ask for anything. We're as much your family today as we were before the wedding."

Yuri nods as his father kisses his forehead. "I love you, Papa."

"We love you too, Yura." Viktor beams at him.

"Be safe and write us once you're settled," Yakov instructs. "Now, get going, we don't want you running behind."

Yuri nods and joins Otabek at the threshold of the palace.

"Are you ready?" his lordship asks sweetly.

"Of course." Yuri nods with a forced smile.

His highness keeps his emotions in check as they climb into the carriage and set off on their journey. He manages to hold himself together until the village falls out of their sights. Yuri feels the tears on his cheeks before he can swallow them. He laughs a bit as he wipes them away.

"You must think I am very weak willed." He says to his husband.

"Why would I think that?" his lordship retorts.

"Crying over something so silly as this." Yuri sniffles.

"I don't think it's silly," Otabek shakes his head. "You love your home; you love your family. You're well within your right to cry for them."

"They aren't gone forever, it's foolish of me."

"No… it isn't." Otabek assures him.

Yuri looks up at his husband, "I'm not… I'm not…"

"Don't feel the need to explain yourself. Between your family and the village you hold so dearly, I understand the need to mourn. I don't think any less of you."

Yuri leans his head on Otabek's shoulder. "Will I like my new home? What do you know of it?"

Otabek pulls his husband further into his side. "I know that it was a territory that willingly fell to the new regime. I briefly visited when I was granted the title by my father. It's a pretty place and the people were hard working."

Yuri nods. "I suppose this will be a new home for both of us."

"It will," Otabek agrees softly.

"A home for us to build together, even." Yuri gives a soft chuckle at the idea.

"Yes." Otabek hums thoughtfully, his chest rumbling against Yuri's ear.

While Yuri's heart still thrums painfully in his chest at the thought of leaving home, he takes the wash of hope that overcomes him. The thought of building a home with Otabek makes him warm and fills him with something like purpose. It makes his deep ache of grief turn to longing.

For the first time in a long time, Yuri feels the flutters of hope within him. He resolves to hold onto that hope for as long as he's able.


Oh, I'm a mess; When I overthink the little things in my head

You seem to always help me catch my breath

But then I lose it again; When I look at you