Chapter 9

Matthew reluctantly went back inside, not wanting a repeat of the night before. He shoved his hands deep in his pockets and began the walk back to the estate, hoping that one of the cooks would be willing to at least warm up dinner for him. He didn't have to check his watch to know that it was long past time for dinner.

The Canadian took his time going inside, savoring the heat on his cold arms and legs. He sat in front of the small fireplace in the mudroom, letting the snow melt and start to dry off of his jeans. He stared into the fire and felt his eyelids grow heavier and heavier when a blanket was draped around his shoulders.

"You know, if you really want to fall asleep in front of a fire, there is one in your room." Francis sat down next to him, knowing his son had no desire to move.

"Ivan really, truly hates me, doesn't he?" Matthew looked at his papa, too numb to cry again. "All I want is a fiancée that doesn't despise me."

"He doesn't hate you, Matthew. He's just having trouble adjusting to having a fiancée, just like you are." He wrapped an arm around his son's shoulders, hugging him close.

"Don't lie to me. I know he doesn't like me. He told me as much earlier, while we were outside."

"That's what you were talking about?" Francis asked, not expecting either male to actually discuss their feelings for each other.

"Yeah. I must have scared him or something. I don't know. I bet he's avoiding me in his room again."

"Matthew, he isn't in his room," might as well tell him now before he finds out later and feels worse. "He went back to Russia."

"What? What do you mean?" Matthew looked closer to tears.

"He packed up earlier and left. He didn't say how long he would be gone, but I would assume that the wedding preparations would happen over the phone." Francis informed him awkwardly, not entirely sure of how Matthew would react.

"Oh. I understand, I guess." He replied, looking down at his red palms and slightly damp knees. "I'm going to bed. It's getting late." He stated abruptly after sitting in silence. He stood up with the blanket, walking out of the mud room.

"What about dinner? You have to eat something." The Frenchman called after him.

"I'm not hungry."

"Hello, mother. Are you feeling better?" Ivan asked from where he was sitting next to her bed.

"I'm perfectly fine, Ivan. There was no reason for your father to call you back home." Sofiya told him, patting his hand weakly.

"You are more important than Matthew, and I will stay here until you are healthy again." Ivan never felt anything for his father other than slight respect, but his mother meant the world to him, even if he never said it.

"Well if you are so determined to stay, why don't you tell me about this fiancée of yours. He must be very shy to never be seen at the world parties." She smiled when Ivan shifted into a more comfortable position in the chair, signifying he had a lot to tell her.

The ill Sofiya Braginski couldn't believe it when she saw a small smile partially light up Ivan's face. Ivan rarely finds things to smile about, especially when he wasn't aware that it made him happy. When he stopped rambling about his sweet and soft spoken fiancée she smiled at him. "You must really like this Matthew."

"No. I tolerate him on a good day. He thinks too much about whether I am happy or not and he is annoying and he smiles far too much." He replied stiffly.

"Yes, of course. Out of every possible spouse in the world, he is the worst option your father and I could have gone with. What were we thinking?" She teased him.

"I never said that, Mother. I must admit, he is not the worst potential spouse possible. He could be a lot better though."

"Maybe he would seem better if you gave him a chance. You aren't the most welcoming person at the best of times." She advised. "I know you are trying hard to make this work, but his happiness matters too. You have quite a temper and it keeps you from seeing the effort he goes through. I haven't even met him and I can see that. For now, don't worry about your feelings for him or his feelings for you, just be nice to him. The wedding is going to happen whether you have feelings for him or not."

"I know. It is harder than I expected." Ivan admitted, leaning back in the chair again.

"So you miss him?" Sofiya asked, seeing through her son's resistant exterior.

"I saw him yesterday; there is no reason for me to miss him."

"So if you were to stay in Russia with us until the wedding, you would not miss Matthew at all?"

"I also never said that I wouldn't miss him either. You are putting words in my mouth, Mother."

"You didn't need to say it. A mother can always tell." She grinned and snuggled deeper into the multitude of pillows. "Now why don't you go see Vlad. I'm sure he missed those long walks with you while you were in Canada. Being walked by the staff just isn't the same." Ivan nodded and stood up, patting his mother's hand. Sofiya smiled and closed her eyes, going back to sleep.

Ivan walked down the hallways that led to his area of the estate, smiling when he heard the familiar sound of nails clicking against the hard wood floors. He turned and saw his purebred Siberian Husky running around the corner, tongue hanging out of his open mouth. He placed his front paws on Ivan's stomach and barked until Ivan leaned down to his level. Vlad then licked all over Ivan's chin and cheeks, happy to see him again.

"Come on, Vlad. It's time to take you out for a walk. I have to tell you about somebody I met while I was away."

I did not plan on giving Ivan a dog, I just think he should have somebody he can talk to other than his mom.

I'm sorry for not updating...at all for a while. I just watch a lot of Netflix :/ (Doctor Who, Torchwood, Parks and Rec in case you were wondering)

Song of the Chapter: "Love Me Dead" by Ludo