"Vitya!" Yakov bellowed, his head shooting up from his pile of paperwork as Victor waltzed into the room, a song on his lips as he floated in like he was on a cloud. "Do you have any idea what time it is?! You were supposed to be here looking over the trade agreements two hours ago!"

"I was?" Victor asked, his voice absent and dreamy as he gave a twirl, looking for a second like he was spinning on the ice before he flopped gracefully into his chair. "I didn't realise."

"You didn't realise?!" Yakov fumed, gripping the edge of his desk so hard, it was a wonder the mahogany didn't splinter into pieces. "Vitya, I told you about this five times yesterday! Don't you remember?!"

Victor's forehead creased in deep thought as he brought a hand to his chin. Yesterday, yesterday… he had met Yuuri yesterday. He had danced with him and now this morning he had learnt his name and talked to him and kissed his hand… A blissed-out smile spread slowly across his face like warm syrup and Yakov gave a loud groan.

"Vitya," he groaned his nickname in exasperation. He looked up from his work to see Victor lounging back in his chair, smiling sweetly up at nothing, and his eyebrows shot up to where his hairline had once been. Victor had been his charge since he had started his schooling; it had been Yakov who set up the boy's timetable and dropped in on his lessons to report back to his mother and father on his progress. As he had grown up, Yakov had taken on more and more of his education, particularly in the art of statesmanship, and now he was educating Yuri in the same practise. Over the years, he had come to view Victor as the son he had never had and he often thought the Tsar didn't appreciate his oldest son enough. He had seen him at his best and helped him through his worst and even though Victor drove him crazy at times and was probably responsible for most of his hair loss, he knew he could never just step away from him. He had far too much loyalty and he cared far too much to do that.

However, he had never seen Victor quite like this before; the man looked like he was on some sort of drug, his eyes wide and misty like clouded glass, his limbs floppy and relaxed and his mouth curved into that ridiculous heart-shaped smile that only appeared when he was truly happy. Yakov was almost stunned seeing it on his face. That smile had only appeared a few times since the death of the Tsarina and even then, those times had been fleeting, the smile only skimming over his face like a stone before it sank. Now it was stuck on his face like it was never going to leave and Yakov was beginning to get worried. Had the Crown Prince really had that much to drink last night? His glass hadn't been spiked, had it? Damn that Lord Giacometti, if he put something in there for a laugh, I'll hang his guts from all the cathedrals in Russia…

"Vitya!" He demanded a little more insistently, making Victor finally leave his trance and look over at him. "What has gotten into you?"

Victor cocked his head in confusion, making him look startlingly like Maccachin when she didn't understand the meaning of 'go away.' "What do you mean Yakov?"

"What do I mean?" Yakov boomed, sounding flabbergasted. "What I mean is, you're acting funny this morning! I told you yesterday that we had to do this and you needed to be up early in the morning but when I went to your apartments, there were clothes all over the place and you weren't there! I know you're forgetful but it's not like you to shirk your duties like this. These new details are very important and I needed you here hours ago to oversee them but you were nowhere to be found. I had to go searching for you in the gardens and I ended up finding Lord Giacometti in the bushes!"

He gave a long groan and rubbed his eyes as the image he knew would never go away once again surfaced in his mind and he heard Victor give a small giggle. He had never trusted the Swiss man, thinking he had always been a bad influence on his precious Vitya and what he had seen earlier had only proved his point. He wished he could unsee the image of Lord Giacometti rolling around in the hedges of the Tsar's maze, his legs around the waist of a visiting British nobleman and his tongue halfway down his throat but he knew he probably never would. Damn the stupid man, he thought, his fingers pulling at his tufts of grey hair like he could pull the memory out and chuck it away. It was only the sound of Victor laughing at his pained expression that brought his thoughts back to what he was supposed to be doing and he fixed the prince with his harshest glare.

"Stop laughing Victor, it was one of the most harrowing experiences of my life! I'm seriously considering limiting the time you spend with that man." He said gruffly and Victor stopped laughing at once. "What I was going to say was that when Lord Giacometti finally untangled himself from that poor man, I asked him where you were and he said you were with some Japanese envoy and that I shouldn't disturb you! And now when you finally get here, you're acting like this! What's going on Vitya?"

His worry was now evident on his lined face and Victor felt guilty enough for it to show on his face. He hadn't meant to scare Yakov like that and accidentally traumatise him; he had just been so wrapped up in finding and then getting to know Yuuri that everything else had just faded into the background. "Yakov, I'm really sorry," he said, pouting a little in a way that made him look like a child again. "I forgot you told me about the trade agreements and I didn't mean to disappear this morning. I just got distracted, that's all. I promise it won't happen again."

"I've heard that before young man." Yakov said with a little sigh. Although he was annoyed, he couldn't stay really mad at Victor for too long. He was going to let the issue drop with the apology but then something Victor said snagged in his mind and he looked back over at him again. "What distracted you? What was such a great distraction, it made you forget your duties?" His eyes narrowed. "That envoy… that wasn't that Japanese man who was dancing at the Winter Ball last night, was it?"

"His name is Yuuri Katsuki," Victor suddenly grinned, his hands clasped over his chest as he stared back up at the ceiling dreamily. "Oh Yakov, he's the cutest thing, his face is so cute and chubby and I just want to pinch his cheeks and he goes so pink when he's embarrassed, it's adorable! And his Russian is so perfect and he looks so smart in his Japanese clothes, he called it a kimono and it looked so good on him and he's just so sweet and sassy and-Oh God, I didn't think to ask him if he liked poodles! Do you think he likes poodles Yakov?"

He turned innocently to look at the older man who was staring at him in bewilderment. "You're telling me you spent the whole morning with the man who was shamelessly displaying himself at the ball? Vitya, his dancing was so lewd, some women were asking for their smelling salts! And some men were too!" Victor just blinked at him and Yakov felt like punching the desk. "You have to see sense Victor! This Yuuri Katsuki is not a suitable person for you to be seen with!"

"But I danced with him too!" Victor protested. "He was drunk, he didn't mean to do that! When I went to go see him this morning, he bowed and apologised to me! And he really was so nice Yakov, he was so sweet when we went walking in the gardens. He said I had my mother's eyes, that I have the same kind light she had." Victor sharply looked down at his lap, his shoulders wilting a little and when he looked back up at Yakov, his eyes were glimmering sadly. "Do you think I have her eyes Yakov?"

The old man's expression softened as he looked at Victor. He could feel his heart ache as he looked at his purest of blue eyes and soft silver hair; with those, he sometimes looked so much like his mother that Yakov had to collect himself to stop him from crying in front of the boy. He had known Natalya for most of her life as her noble father had been Yakov's childhood friend. He had helped to elevate his status and got him his high position as an advisor and in return, Yakov had obtained a spot at court for his only daughter. He had known her since she was a pretty little girl, running around the garden with her dolls and demanding he play tea parties with her, and he had watched as she entered the court a beautiful confident young woman, ready to conquer the world. She had been a bright burning light glowing like a candle in the stuffiness of the court and it was no surprise when half the court fell in love with her. The only surprise came when her most devoted and most persistent suitor was the young Crown Prince, the man who was soon to become the Tsar of all Russia.

Yakov had done everything to help the young couple as he fell head over heels for her and she slowly began to fall for him. He had made all the necessary agreements, he had been the one to draft the formal betrothal and he had stood next to her father with tears in his eyes when the pair had been married in St Petersburg under the watchful eye of all the court. Everyone had been so happy just to see the loving light shining from both of their faces and for years, it seemed like everything was going perfectly. This perfection was only cemented a year later when the new Crown Princess gave birth to a baby boy.

It was the Tsarina who had put Yakov in charge of her son a few years later when her husband had been crowned Tsar and she had been made his queen. "I know you'll take good care of him," she had said with a smile as the two of them had watched a tiny giggling toddler play with the lace at the hem of her dress, crying out "Sparkly!" as he patted at it with his pudgy hands. "You took very good care of me after all."

After that, Yakov had had no choice but to throw all the energy he had into caring for the boy; the one thing he could never bear to do was let her down. She had been almost like his daughter and when her own father had sadly passed away when Victor was just seven, it had been his shoulder she had cried on. A few years later, when Victor had been twelve, she had given birth to her second child and she had insisted on not only naming the baby after her father but also on having Yakov stand in her father's place at the christening. Things had been looking up for them again; she had two beautiful sons, a doting husband and a country that adored her. It seemed like nothing could go wrong, which made it all the worse when it suddenly did four years later.

When the Tsarina had died, everything had felt like it was falling apart. Yakov had felt like crumpling, just lying down on the floor and never getting up. He had raged at the Russian Orthodox Church for ages afterwards; how could it be God's will that a beautiful young girl had been taken so early from her children whilst childless old fools like him stayed alive? However, he had had to stay strong for her sons. The Tsar had shut himself away in their shared apartments for a week after her death and when he had emerged, he was no longer the warm young man who had served his country as a hero and won round the most beautiful woman at court. He had become cold, his eyes turned to icy steel as he busied himself with the business of the country and not with his own sons. In the years after the loss of their mother, it had been Yakov who the boys had turned to and he, along with his ex-wife Lilia, had been the ones who had helped to mould them into princes. Every year, he had watched as Victor grew more and more like his mother and each year, it grew even more bittersweet.

"Yes Vitya," He said eventually. "You do have her eyes. You're the spitting image of her. She'd be very proud to see you right now, to see how far you've come."

Victor gave a smile at that, a faint imitation of the one he had given earlier, but a smile nonetheless. Yakov found himself smiling back before he made a gruff sound and turned back to his paperwork. "Knowing her, she probably would have encouraged you swanning around the garden when you're supposed to be working but I will not. I am also not going to encourage you seeing that Katsuki man. He doesn't seem like good news."

"But Yakov!" Victor whined as he practically threw himself on his desk, splaying himself on the paperwork and making several sheets flutter to the floor like oversized snowflakes. "Why?"

"Because, I don't want you making trouble," Yakov told him, ignoring how Victor was pouting at him. That face may have got him out of trouble when he was younger but it wasn't going to work now. "Enough of a scene was made at the Winter Ball, I don't need any more- your father will not be pleased if there was more scandal in this court."

Victor huffed. "The only scandal that could happen right now is if he sends Yuri off into the army."

"What?!" Yakov suddenly shouted, causing Victor to jump and nearly fall out of his chair. "Who's sending Yuri into the army?!"

"Oh, didn't you hear?" Victor said, in his innocent tone that would have usually made Yakov grit his teeth but the man was so angry, it had no effect. "At the ball, Yuri and Father had a discussion and Father thinks that his behaviour is so out of control, he wants him to be enrolled in the army. I was trying to find him that night to persuade him not to but I just couldn't find him. I thought he would have said something to you…"

"He said nothing of the sort!" Yakov boomed, his volume loud enough to make people in the corridors outside wince and quickly scurry away. "And I know why, because he knew I'd shoot it down in a second! Yuri, in the army, it's preposterous! The boy is only fifteen and he looks like he's made of twigs! He would never stand a chance! Plus, Lilia would never forgive me if that boy was sent away during his ballet training…" He grimaced at the thought of angering his ex-wife; the two of them had divorced only a couple of years ago but they had stayed amicable because they both had the two prince's best interests at heart. The two of them may have fallen out of love but Yakov still had a grudging respect for her and the last thing he wanted to do was make her angry like that. "And as for him being out of control, it's absurd! You were ten times worse than him when you were his age and there was no talk of sending you into the army!"

"Quite right." Victor agreed, a smug smile on his face as he watched Yakov work himself into a frenzy, his face turning the colour of beetroot as he looked ready to rip someone's head off. This was going to be fun. "And from what Yuri told me at the ball, he really doesn't want to go either. The poor thing was practically begging me to go and talk to him, he was almost in tears…"

His smile grew wider as Yakov looked ready to explode. That was the final straw for Yakov and Victor knew it; if anyone dared to make Yuri cry, heads would roll and Yakov would be the one happily kicking them along.

"That does it!" Yakov yelled even louder than before. "Your father is going insane! I don't care how much he idolises that bunch of pompous soldiers, he is not making his son one of them! I'm going to go and have a word with him, Victor you stay here and look over that trade agreement. Make sure everything is as it should be!"

And with that, Yakov stomped from the room, pushing the doors out into the corridor with such force they bounced off the walls. As he stalked away, muttering about idiot monarchs and ridiculous fancies, Victor sent a cheery wave after him.

"OK, goodbye!" He trilled, a happy smile on his face now he had fulfilled his promise. There was no way Yuri was going into the army now, he thought, not now Yakov's on his case. He leant back in his chair and gave a pleased sigh. Now he could focus on what was really important- planning his dinner with Yuuri.

Now, he thought, pushing the trade agreement to the other side of his desk and pulling out a fresh piece of paper. How many candles would Chris say is too many?

OOO

Back in his room, Yuuri was having a small meltdown. He shakily opened the doors to his and Phichit's shared rooms, his limbs feeling ready to collapse with exhaustion and his mind on edge. The moment he had stepped out of Victor's presence and back into the heavy world of diplomacy, everything had started to go wrong and now it was over, he felt frayed, like a piece of string that was slowly unravelling into a pile of useless fibres. It couldn't have gone worse if he tried and, for the first time since he got to the Russian court, he felt like he would have been better staying back at home.

It had started off with the looks. He had felt their weight on him as he made his way back from the gardens, ladies peering at him from over their fans and gentlemen not even trying to hide their gazes as they followed him down the corridor. He had seen them whispering in each other's ears, their whispers too low for him to understand what they were saying but their buzzing sound had followed him all the way to his room and then back to his meeting with the ambassador, trailing him like a shadow. It made his skin crawl to hear it- he had never enjoyed being the centre of attention like this and the watchful eyes had felt like stone weights holding him back. They had churned him up inside and made him nervous and that had led up to his mess of a meeting.

He had sat by the side of the Japanese ambassador, hoping that he could forget all that and absorb himself in his work but instead it had only gotten worse. The other foreign envoys in the meeting weren't even trying to conceal the fact they were talking about him and their eyes on him had made him feel like he was tainted, his shame a stain for the whole world to see. His cheeks had gone red knowing that they were all talking about him and his behaviour last night and it had made him feel sick. He had never imagined he would find himself at the centre of court gossip- all he had wanted to do was work and keep his head down but, thanks to his father's genes passing down his family's tendency to go overboard when drunk, that hadn't happened in the slightest.

His embarrassment had built and built and built until he had been close to having a panic attack in the room. His hands had been shaking like leaves caught in a storm and when the ambassador had asked him to pass some water, he had nearly spilled it on the important documents. He had smudged his ink several times on his notes, made numerous spelling errors and by the end of the meeting, the ambassador had made him stand outside for a moment, believing he was sick. The short walk to the door had been the most humiliating of Yuuri's life as the whispering behind him had intensified and he could only imagine what they were saying.

Serves him right for turning up drunk.

I can't believe he showed his face.

He was in such a state last night. How can he look at himself?

What the hell would anyone want with him now?

He was thankful the Japanese ambassador was very understanding and let him get back to his room earlier than normal so he could rest. Grateful, he had almost grovelled in his thanks and apologies and he had hurried back through the Imperial Palace, not wanting to be seen a moment longer. Was it still possible to go into hiding? He wondered. Maybe not now the Crown prince had sought him out.

The Crown Prince… Yuuri only had to think of those precious hours walking in the gardens with Victor to feel warmth bubbling in his chest and heat blushing in his face. Victor had been everything he had ever imagined and more. He was even more stunning up close, his eyes like crystals and his skin like porcelain and Yuuri wasn't sure how he had managed not to stare at him the entire time he had been in his company. There was just something about him that made it impossible not to be drawn to him and when he had smiled down at him, Yuuri had felt like he was being blessed.

However, despite his ethereal looks, Victor had been far more human than Yuuri had imagined; the way he had spoken about his long-ago trip to Japan and the way his eyes had teared up when his mother had been mentioned had close to broken Yuuri's heart and he could only hope that he had been able to comfort him, even just for that moment. That side to him that had thanked him for saying he had his mother's eyes and listened to him like he genuinely wanted to know him… that was a side he had never expected to see but now that he had, he wanted more. It was clear to him that Victor didn't open up to many people and that saddened him, to think that Victor couldn't fully be himself. If I was around him all the time, he thought, I'd never want him to be anything but himself.

And tomorrow, he was going to see him again. Yuuri close to winced as he finally collapsed on his bed. He felt all the tension rush from his limbs, leaving him feeling like a floppy pancake as he sank into his sheets but his stomach still felt like it was twisting inside him. When he thought about how the Crown Prince had asked him to dinner, requesting he only call him by his first name in that smooth voice, and when he remembered how he had answered, his face flared up and he wanted to bury himself in his blankets. He had no idea where that flash of confidence had come from; it had left him just as quickly as it had arrived and after saying that, he had found himself almost running out of the maze, desperate to put some distance between him and his huge embarrassment. Would the Prince have found that an impertinent thing to say? Was he already regretting inviting Yuuri to dine with him in his private apartments? Yuuri sank his head into his pillow. He probably was.

What would the Crown Prince want with a nobody like me? He thought, feeling his anxiety rise like a wave inside him. He had always struggled with his anxiety; it was exhausting having to constantly battle against the negative voices that swamped his head and sometimes it was just too hard to fight them. It felt like that now, his doubts prickling at the corners of his mind as they went to invade it, becoming an orchestra as they bombarded him over and over again.

He probably just invited you out of pity.

I bet he hated every moment with you in the gardens.

He's just too polite to say he's disappointed in you.

You're nothing. Why would he waste his time?

Yuuri felt like crying as his thoughts continued to get worse. Maybe I shouldn't go tomorrow, he thought, pressing his face harder into the pillow and digging his nails deep into his palms. It will just save both of us a lot of embarrassment. I'll just avoid him for the rest of my time at court, then I can go home and forget this ever happened…

"Yuuri!" He suddenly heard a cheerful voice calling him from the door and he looked up just before Phichit's body came crashing down on his in a hug that almost cracked his ribs. "There you are! I've been looking all over for you, I went to the end of your meeting but the ambassador said you'd already left! You need to tell me everything about what happened with Victor right now! Was he nice? What did you talk about? Did you bring up the fact you've been crushing on him since you were twelve?"

"Phichit, no!" Yuuri cried out, finally prising Phichit off him so he could roll over onto his back. Phichit perched at the edge of the bed, his brown eyes wide and shining in anticipation and Yuuri could feel his ears burning red. "He was…nice. Really nice. He spoke about his brother and his friends and he asked me about my dancing and my home and he offered to take me ice skating sometime…"

"Yuuri!" Phichit interrupted with a squeal so high, Yuuri wondered how every dog in the palace wasn't clawing at the door. "Are you serious? That's amazing, he must really like you! Oh, my precious boy is growing up and already he's stealing hearts!" He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye as Yuuri frowned up at him.

"You know I'm four years older than you right?"

"That's irrelevant." Phichit waved him away before eagerly bouncing on the bed. "C'mon Yuuri, I need more details! What else did he say?"

"Well I…" Yuuri stammered a little. "I asked him about his trip to Japan and he said he remembered it and then we spoke a little about his mother and I told him his eyes looked just like his mother's… he looked so happy when I said that, I thought he was going to cry. And then he kissed my hand and I think he was going to say something when Lord Giacometti interrupted us."

"Are you kidding me!?" Phichit sprang up outraged, his mouth setting in a thin line and his eyes suddenly looking murderous. "I can't believe that man, spoiling your moment with him… I'll challenge him to a duel and run him through with my sword!"

"Phichit, no!" Yuuri sat up and clung to his friend's sleeve. "You can't go and kill Victor's best friend! He was only interrupting because Victor was needed elsewhere and he was very sorry about it."

"OK." Phichit reluctantly agreed, letting Yuuri pull him back down. "I won't kill him for now. What did Victor say after that?"

"He said he enjoyed walking with me," Yuuri said nervously. "And then… he invited me to dine with him in his private apartments tomorrow evening."

"He what?!" Phichit sprang back up again, this time with a look of pure joy as he jumped up and down and clasped his hands over his chest. "Yuuri, that's amazing! Victor Nikiforov never invites people to dine privately with him unless it's for strict business purposes or they are very close to him. You must have really made an impact! Oh, this morning I thought he looked smitten with you but this is more than I ever imagined!" he gave another loud squeal, sounding like he was trying to shatter glass as Yuuri covered his ears. "We need to decide what you're going to wear, of course the kimono you're wearing is your most formal one but you might have to wear something different, maybe something more casual if it's just going to be you two…"

"Phichit, wait…" Yuuri said, cutting his friend short as he looked down at his lap. "I'm… I'm not sure I should go."

"What?!" Phichit cried out, sitting in front of his friend and lifting his chin up so he could look into his eyes. "Yuuri, why shouldn't you go? Don't you want to? I thought this was your dream?"

"It is!" The tears that had threatened to pour since the moment he had stepped into his earlier meeting suddenly started spilling down Yuuri's cheeks and he gave great hiccupping sobs as he spoke. "But I'm scared Phichit- he was so nice to me and everything was going perfectly earlier but what if he was expecting me to be like I was at the banquet? He probably was bored of me and he's just inviting me to dine with him so he can get rid of me without too much fuss. And today… everyone was just staring at me, I could see them whispering things about me and everyone at the meeting was just looking at me… I felt so embarrassed Phichit, I made a fool of myself and I don't know if I could live with it if Victor told me that to my face…"

"Yuuri, Yuuri, come here," Phichit pulled him into another tight hug, rubbing his hand up and down his back soothingly as he spoke calmly. "Listen to me. Victor is the Crown Prince, he has to deal with a bunch of people clambering for his attention every single day, he has the men and women of the court throwing themselves at his feet all the time just because they want him to look their way- do you really think he would waste his time with someone if he didn't think they were worth it? If he didn't want to see you again, he would have just said goodbye politely and left. Did he do that?"

"N-no." Yuuri answered sniffling and Phichit smiled.

"There you go. And I promise you Yuuri, you should have seen the way he was looking at you this morning. He doesn't think you're a bother, he was staring at you like he'd never seen a human being before in his life. He wants to see you again because he really likes you Yuuri. And as for all those other people… I would bet my camera that they were all whispering about how amazingly you danced last night and how they wished they were the one who got to dance with you. And if some of them were saying mean things about you, then they are just fools and we're not going to give a shit about them. They can go throw themselves off of St Basil's Cathedral for all I care."

"Phichit!" Yuuri gasped at his friend swearing- the last time he heard the Thai man swear, he had left his treasured copy of his favourite book The King and the Skater back in Thailand- but he still giggled and Phichit gave him a warm smile.

"That's my Yuuri," He said fondly. "Feel better now?"

Yuuri gave a nod. Phichit always knew what to say when his anxiety got the better of him and his truthful words had made that warm glow in his chest return. Yes, he thought, Victor really does want to see me tomorrow and tomorrow is going to be just as wonderful as today was. He wiped the trails of silvery water away from his eyes as Phichit once again moved to the wardrobe.

"Great. Now, back to business… how are we going to make Victor drool tomorrow? I bet we could make him faint if we put you in this with a little red lipstick…"

"PHICHIT NO!"

Who wants to bet "Phichit no" is half of Yuuri's vocabulary?

Also I love the idea that Yakov is a massive papa bear who acts grumpy but would literally murder anyone who tried to hurt his charges.

Interesting thing; St Basil's Cathedral is a real place in Moscow's Red Square and it was opened in 1561. It's a very impressive looking building that you should check out.

Next chapter is going to be their meal together! Anyone else excited?