Now officially in the process of being legally adopted by Alistair, Vasily is quiet and unobtrusive, but just because he’s not causing trouble doesn’t mean he’s fine.He seems stable and content here but losing his family has changed something in him.He’s like a little ghost sometimes.
One night, Lachlan is making the rounds when he gets a littlepingto alert him that Vasily isn’t in his bedroom in the East Wing.
He’s in the South Wing, a guest room.
Heartbeat confirmed, it’s not an emergency so Lachlan goes there himself around three AM, knocks on the door and waits.
‘Come in.’
The ceilings in here are absurdly high, crossed with dark exposed beams and crowned by a tarnished brass chandelier the size of a small car.Heavy burgundy drapes frame tall windows overlooking the grounds.They are the only reason Lachlan ever comes in here, for alignment checks.From this side of the Estate, you can just see the lake.
Every piece of furniture is carved hardwood, most of it old enough to predate electricity itself.The bed is an enormous four-poster layered with dark green velvet, heavy linen and enough embroidered pillows to bury a man alive, atop which sits Vasily Sorrenko.
He doesn’t look up when Lachlan comes inside, has his knees to his chest, wearing navy blue pyjamas that are too big for him.
There’s an open letter beside him on the bed.
‘Hey, kiddo.’
‘Hi.’
‘You OK in here?’
Vasily nods.‘I did not mean to worry you.’
Lachlan presses on the mattress with his knee, glancing around.‘You didn’t worry me.Wow, this thing’s nice, huh?So squishy.’
Vasily shrugs.
This room was Mikhail’s while he stayed in the Estate.
‘Do you want to talk a little?’
‘I do not think I know how.’
At first, it’s confusing to Lachlan, who knows Vasily speaks excellent English among other languages including his own, but then it clicks.
‘Talking about heavy stuff is hard.I never know where to start.’
‘Jules is good.He always knows.’
Lachlan smiles despite himself.‘Yeah, he does.’
‘I am not like Jules.Not like Roman.Not like Papa.I do not know who I am without the people I love.Sometimes I feel like…’ Vasily pauses, subtly wiping his eyes.‘Shadow.Without someone in front of me, I do not exist.’
‘I’m always gonna be in front of you, but you’re not a shadow.I promise.’
Vasily sniffles and finally looks up.‘I got this today, from Rozhenska’ he says, lifting the letter but not showing it to Lachlan.His dark brown eyes scan the page again, immersing himself briefly in the contents before folding it and tucking it under the pillow behind him.‘It was written by Papa in case he died.I think he wrote it not long ago.He mentioned that he was glad I was learning to bake.He said…’ Vasily trails off, his back convulses just once.
Lachlan puts his hand lightly on the kid’s shoulder.
‘It’s OK.You don’t have to tell me.’
Vasily laughs, wipes his eyes, softly bitter.‘That is what he said.You don’t have to.He told me I don’t need to do anything I don’t want to.All I need to do is be happy and safe.I know many people want to hear this from their parents, but from my father it is a knife to the heart.He never knew what to do with me, and I never knew what to do with myself.’
‘You can choose.’
‘Alistair is adopting me.He controls everything.’
