“Angelo, what the fuck? I’m just teasing. I can’t imagine not having Philippe with me, but it’s not like I ever needed a valet. I know Mum felt sorry for him. She and Dad thought he must have upset someone in your kingdom pretty badly to get banished like he did.”
“Yuri, Philippe was a spy. For Tanzhir,” Angelo said. “That’s why my parents sent him. To make sure I was fine when I stayed with your family, and also to report back anything of interest to my father and his council.”
Yuri pushed away from the table in dismay. “No,” he said, dread pooling in his chest. “It’s not possible. I won’t believe it.” Except it made a lot of things Yuri hadn’t been able to piece together finally make sense. “How long have you known and not told me?”
“I’ve known bits from the beginning. Mama told me that when I lived with you, Philippe would make sure I was always all right. That I was to trust him above all others when in Mirea. I found out more, in bits and pieces, as I grew up. I don’t know for sure that he’s a spy, but I suspect he was. I don’t think he still is, though.”
The entire conversation hurt like a knife to the heart. “I don’t understand. I can’t trust Philippe? I never could? I’ve been living with—”
Angelo reached across the table and took Yuri’s hand. “Wait, let me finish. When we were in our last year at Meadow Chase, I overheard my father and one of his advisors talking. The advisor wanted to know if Philippe was going with you to Oxford, as opposed to staying in Mirea as he had while we were at boarding school. Father said it didn’t matter where Philippe was, that he’d long ago outgrown his usefulness, and that it wasn’t any of the advisor’s concern because Philippe wasn’t Tanzhir’s concern.”
“But…” Yuri felt like the ground underneath him had been stolen away.
“Yuri, think. Philippe knew about every single boyfriend you had and never said a word about it to either your parents or mine. They didn’t know about Lord Dickface until his family tried to start a damn diplomatic incident. He’s not reporting to my parents, I can assure you of that.”
“How… how could you know?” Yuri asked through numb lips.
“Because my father hasn’t called me to ask what the holy hell I think I’m doing. Your parents don’t want a public scandal, obviously. Mine, especially my father, would not be pleased with having a gay son.”
That made no sense. “But the betrothal. When we were married, everyone would assume…”
“I think my father’s been trying to find a way out of the betrothal without scrapping the trade agreement. He was furious when I was just pretending to be with you. If he even suspected what’s really been going on between us, he’d go spare, I’m sure. Whenever I’ve brought up our betrothal, he smiles and says a lot can happen before I’m thirty and to not worry about it.”
“Oh,” Yuri said. This news wasn’t really any better than learning Philippe was a spy. Or had been a spy. Whichever.
“I really think you can trust Philippe. That we both can. Do you trust me?” Angelo’s face was tense with concern.
“Of course I trust you,” Yuri exclaimed. “That’s the worst part. You’re tearing apart everything I believed in for years and I still trust you. I’ve got the survival instinct of a concussed lemming.”
Angelo smiled then squeezed Yuri’s hand and threaded their fingers together. “I promise you can trust me, Yuri. I will never hurt you. I will try to keep anyone else from hurting you. Always.”
Looking into Angelo’s eyes, Yuri saw nothing but burning sincerity there. “Okay,” he finally said. “Yes. I believe you. Former spy or not, I can trust Philippe. Probably. Unless you’re wrong about him.”
“If I thought Philippe was any danger to you at all, I’d never let you live in the same house as him. Do you believe that?”
Yuri nodded shakily.
Angelo sighed with relief. “Good.”
“Will you go back with me?” Yuri asked. “When I return to Oxford? I need to have this out with Philippe, or I won’t be able to sleep in my own house, but at the same time, I don’t want to confront him alone. Which is mad, I know. Sometimes I feel like I know Philippe better than my own parents. But I want you there. Okay?”
Angelo frowned then nodded. “I can call in to work on Monday and tell them I can’t come in. I’m fairly sure most of what’s pressing can be done remotely, if necessary. Yes. I’ll go home with you.”
Yuri sighed. “Thank god.” Then he grinned. “Besides, this means more time with you. And more time hopefully means more sex.”
“I think you’re insatiable,” Angelo said.
“Not at the moment, though. I’m too full of uncertainty right now.” He burped, then grinned at Angelo. “Also pizza. Even if it was terrible pizza. I fed you crepes.”
“Which you ate nearly half of. And it was Philippe who fed me crepes, not you.”
“Espionage crepes,” Yuri said bitterly.
“Yuri…”
“I swear to god. Finding this out was the cherry on the shite sundae that was today. Or yesterday, I guess.” He took his hand back from Angelo so he could pick up his mug and drink his rapidly cooling tea.
Angelo’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What else happened yesterday?”
Yuri hesitated, then decided there was no point keeping it to himself. “I ran into Francis in Oxford.”
“What?” Angelo shouted. “Did he hurt you? Are you okay? Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”
“No, mostly, and sex.”
Angelo didn’t look any less thunderous. “Tell me what happened with Lord Dickface.”
“Not much, really. My security intervened. But he insinuated he wanted to blackmail me. He said he has pictures of me. Naked ones. And that if he didn’t get his way, he could share them with the world, which probably means a tabloid.”
“What does he want?”
