Trapped in Lace (lgbt)

Ch 5

It is confirmed that Mikhail is plagued by a mild infection, but nothing that cannot be remedied as the good doctor had said. And with the wise man's departure, Mikhail has a new sense of liberty. He can move around as he pleases so long as he does not strain his worn-out body. Despite this, Mikhail does not leave the room he has come to know as his.

"You can move about," Antony muses, "you are not a prisoner here."

Mikhail lowers a book on war strategies or whatnot, and he focuses on the handsome man. The light captures the ash of his hair perfectly. The once dark eyes are as light as honey now. He looks younger and Mikhail tries to ignore the clench in his chest, the vice around his heart.

Without thinking he responds, "I have been a prisoner my whole life, this is a freedom I intend to enjoy."

Antony stares at the younger man in surprise.

Mikhail thinks better of it and with a flush he adds, "I am not a fugitive or a delinquent, that is not what I meant -"

"Sometimes," Antony interrupts, voice tender with understanding, "I feel as if I were a prisoner as well."

"Is that why you are here?" Mikhail asks with a tilt of his head.

His unruly curls fall over his eyes, and he attempts to blow them away with puckered lips. Antony finds it endearing.

"I wish," Antony responds, "Come now, dinner will be served soon, and you are in need of a change of scenery if you ever hope of recovering."

Mikhail agrees with a nod. He stands and tries to find his center of gravity as he's gripped by the nauseating sense of vertigo. Antony notices and he hovers near the younger man, ready to catch him shall he fall. Mikhail steadies himself with no help and he extends his hand out, motioning the lord to show the way as he has no idea the layout of the villa.

Antony reluctantly leads the way, not looking too long away from Mikhail. Just in case.

They enter the dining room and Mikhail is captivated by the room. It is... spacious. From the outside the villa does not appear as if the interior would be this big. He is stood corrected with the sight before him. Not even the dining room back home is this massive and he has seven siblings, with himself and parents included that makes nine. This is fit for royalty. Something only someone with wealth can afford. A Duke perhaps?

Mikhail makes his way down the long wooden table and he takes a seat where the dining ware has been set for him. He feels ridiculous with the distance between himself and Antony.

"This is rather," Mikhail pauses, "impressive."

Antony stares at him from the head of the table, "rather ridiculous if you ask me, come Mikhail."

Mikhail hesitates as he stares at Antony.

The servers pause as well.

"Sire," Boyd begins.

"Mikhail," Antony ignores, "I appreciate your company and I would find it rather rude if we let the distance stay between us. Come. The staff can accommodate your plate nearer."

Mikhail rises and he ambles toward Antony, taking the seat right of the man.

The staff are efficient in fixing the silverware at his new placement.

"Thank you," he smiles gratefully.

Food is served shortly after and it is all an affair Mikhail hadn't quite expected. He almost feels underdressed, as if he were in the presence of true royalty. He looks at the sleeves of the shirt he wears. He knows it belongs to Antony. It is far too big on his lithe frame despite still holding onto his baby weight. It still smells of the man, a soothing scent of wood and fire and musk. He wants to close his eyes and bask in the warmth it provides.