"You're parents signed a non violence treaty with Germany. You have nothing to worry about. " Natalia insured him as they ate breakfast.
James nodded. "Well, that's good. " Hr took another bite of his eggs.
Natalia raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "That's good? They just saved your country from entering what could be another World War, and all you have to say is that it's good? "
James's eyes dropped to the floor as he shrugged. "What is there to say, Natalia?"
"This is going to be your country one day, James. I would think that you would respond differently towards the well being of it. "
"It is partially your country as well." James responded. "You have never cared about the well being of it. "
"Because it won't always be mine. " Natalia stated in a voice that had a deadly edge to it. "Do you honestly believe that I intend to marry just to reproduce an heir for my throne? "
James didn't answer her. His eyes glanced down and accidentally lingered on her low cut neckline if her dress. He didn't mean to, he'd just woken up frustrated, missing his servant who was several miles away. His hormones were acting ridiculous.
If the queen caught his glance, she ignored it. "I will either die alone and leave no heir to my kingdom, or I will give it to you. "
He shook his head. "I have no need for your country. "
She was silent as her green eyes scanned him, trying to read what he was thinking. "You're different. " She stated.
"You haven't seen me since I was seventeen, I imagine so. "
"You're distracted. You've been angry. You hole up in your room and do nothing but pace. Something's wrong. "
"Nothing's wrong. " James retorted in a hoarse voice. He took one last stab at his eggs with his fork, shoved them into his mouth, and stormed off to his room.
He flopped down onto the unmade bed. He couldn't take it much more, he missed Steven, and was irritable because of it.
Hopefully, his parents would let him go back to his own palace soon after the treaty was signed.
James turned his thoughts back to Natalia.
The thoughts were lust-induced, whereas he was frustrated from missing his servant, and she was the only one around.
Maybe he didn't completely dislike women, maybe he'd just taken a special liking to his servant.
James let out a soft, throaty groan as he thought about Steven once more. No, he loved men. He loved Steven.
From the next room, he could hear a murmured conversation between Natalia and one of her servants.
The Prince ignored it as he daydreamed about Steven's tiny, angelic body. The things he dreamed about doing to his pretty little servant. . .
He felt a familiar coil at the pit of his stomach as he roughly pressed the palm of his own hand down on his thigh, desperate for some sort of pressure.
The royal son threw his head back onto his pillows and let out a deep whine, Steven's body on his mind all the while.
His hand flew up as the bedroom door opened, and Natalia stood in the hallway.
The queen rolled her eyes as James blushed and feigned innocence.
She threw a piece of paper that she held in her hands at him, and exited just as soon as she'd arrived.
Heaving a sigh, he opened the parchment and allowed his eyes to dance over the words that it said.
James grinned widely.
He was going home in three days.
~
Steven could barely breathe as he watched them bury his mother.
He flinched each time as they threw a shovel full of dirt onto the casket in the ground.
Sarah Roger's son was the only one left by her grave, except for Peggy.
Clearly she had forgiven him for whatever he didn't do, since she stood by him, a hand on his shoulder.
The air was cold as Steven shivered from the breeze, pulling the gray scarf around his neck tighter to him. It would begin snowing any day now, and Steven would more than likely fall ill.
This winter would be different, though.
He would not have his mother to take care of him this winter. She would not be there to pull the blanket further up over his slim body as he shook from the cold, she would not be there to press a wet cloth to his face when he burned from fever.
She wouldn't be there at all.
A tear slipped down onto Steven's cheek as he imagined the season without her.
A little tug on his arm from Peggy pulled him back to reality. She gave him a sad, sympathetic smile as she chided, "We should get back now, Steven. "
He gave a small nod as he allowed the woman to take him by the hand and pull him along the road on the way back to the palace.
The cemetery in which people of lower status, and now Steven's mother, lay buried was on the outskirts of town, making it a bit of a trek if Steven wanted to visit her.
Steven tugged his thin jacket sleeve further over his wrists to keep the hind from climbing up onto his arms and sending a chill down his body.
He loved the picturesque view of autumn, but the cold temperature drop nearly killed him each year.
Almost an hour later of walking in silence, the two servants arrived at the palace. Peggy once again gave him a small smile and a squeeze of the hand before departing to assist in cooking dinner .
Steven walked up to his once shared room and sat alone on the bed. He loathed how quiet it was in the quarters now, even if most of the noise that his mother made was heaved coughs and ragged breaths as she slept, each day a continuous struggle for her life.
Running his fingers carefully long the stitching of the scarf she'd made him, he admitted that he was glad that she'd finally gotten her well deserved eternal rest.
Even if it meant leaving him in the process.
Shaking his head sadly, Steven rested his head in his hands and began to sob once again.
He must've bawled for a few minutes before the door to his bedroom abruptly opened and Rumlow walked in.
"Up. " He said sternly.
Steven stood warily and got the feeling that the overseer wasn't here to pay his respects for Sarah.
Rumlow grabbed Steven by the shirt collar and tugged him along, down the flight of stairs and through the palace.
"Wha- what's going on? " Steven questioned as he made a useless attempt to wipe the tears from his cheeks.
The man didn't answer as he continued to half drag, half carry the servant, until they were in the the throne room.
Steven's eyes were impossibley wide and his body quivered as Rumlow dropped the servant on the delicately tiled floor.
Before Steven could ask again why he was here, he looked up towards the King's throne to see the ruler of Russia himself, holding a paper parchment.
"Two days ago this arrived in the mail for you. " The king stated lowly as he ran his fingers along the paper. "Concerned about its whereabouts, Mister Rumlow opened the letter. "
Rumlow smirked at Steven, who sat helplessly and confused on the floor.
"Do you know a Bucky Barnes, Stephen?" Asked the king.
Slowly, Steven shook his head and answered honestly, "No, Your highness, I don't. "
"Well he certainly seems to know you. " The king stated snidely. "Tell me, Steven, are you in a relationship with this man? "
Steven shook his once more and protested, "No, Your Majesty, I've never heard the name in my life. "
The King handed the letter to Rumlow, who threw it down next to Steven. Hesitantly, Steven picked it up and scanned it quickly, seeing the words written in elegant handwriting, including, "Love" and "I miss you desperately. "
He knew immediately that it was from James. Steven almost laughed that the Prince's own father didn't recognize his son's handwriting.
Steven had watched James sign his signature for years, falling in love with the way his Master's fingers gripped the pen and the way his letters so beautifully curled and dipped.
"Do you know who Bucky Barnes is? " The king demanded again.
His body in a tremor now, Steven replied with a shaky voice, "No, Your Majesty. I don't. " He didn't. He knew who James was.
The king heaved a sigh, like putting up with skinny servants who had love letters written to them was the most mundane thing in the world.
He called to Rumlow, "Very well. Whip him. "