“Ha!” Red cheerfully kisses him on the cheek and grabs the mug with both hands, taking a loud gulp from it.
In response to the rude sound, Mihai curls his lips but does not scold the Zaporizhian. Instead, he runs his fingers through the otaman’s bright hair—soft and smooth, nothing like his own—and gently massages his head.
“And what am I supposed to do with you now?” Mihai muses, speaking not so much to Red as to himself.
“What do you mean?” Red squints with satisfaction, still relaxed, though Dracule senses that he has tensed up ever so slightly. “I thought we’d made it pretty clear what we are going to do with each other.”
With the other hand, Mihai picks up his wine glass, but instead of drinking, he slowly swirls it by the stem, watching the dark red liquid run down the transparent walls.
“You have obviously forgotten, but I was ordered to take you to some magnate in Zbarazh. Who is he, by the way, and why is he so desperate to meet you?”
Because resorting to me with a request like this is a sign of utter desperation.
“Don’t worry about that nonsense. And don’t take me anywhere. Just leave me where you found me and come visit from time to time.”
“Or you will come visit me?” Mihai raises an eyebrow, mentally picturing idyllic scenes with the otaman at his estate.
“Or I’ll come visit you. Sounds like a good option for us, doesn’t it?”
Mihai’s imagination is running wild, and having the Zaporizhian right by his side feels so good that he can barely hear the rational objections in his head as he voices a completely irrational proposal:
“And how about you move in with me at my place? For good.”
A shadow crosses Red’s face.
“And what will I be doing there?”
“Whatever you want. It is peaceful there. I have a garden, a vegetable patch, a pond, a winery. We will drink my wine, compete, make love. I am rarely called away on duty, so we will have plenty of time for each other,” Mihai closely watches the changes in the otaman’s mood but continues his thought: “How much longer do you plan to wander the steppes, chasing phantom ideals?”
Red glares at him and moves away. In his gaze, Dracule sees not only a fresh wound to his pride, but also long-standing pain and resentment about someone else. Therefore, Mihai makes no attempt to keep the man close, releasing his hand from his hair and giving him space.
“Do you really think I’d be content with a life in a golden cage paid for by the Polish crown? Do you think you can turn me into a lover, a concubine?! No way, don’t even dream of it, my hawk, you won’t wrest the otaman regalia and cossack honor even from my dead hands!”
If someone had told Mihai just a week ago that he would be listening with fascination to the fanatical rant of an ideological Zaporizhian vagabond, the registered officer would not have believed it.
Tense as a bowstring, Red stares expectantly at Mihai. Mihai takes a pause, calmly sipping from his glass and showing off his elegant profile, then turns to the redhead and places his hand on his knee.
“Sorry, but you will have to settle for being nothing more than my lover. We cannot get married—even my audacity is not enough for that.”
Dracule, what a little shit you are!
Chapter Day 6: We will sit together, and I will be the lord over lords of Lost with the Letter, a historical Ukrainian Mishanks AU, is out! Enjoy!
Day 1: Red
Day 2: Heat
Day 3: From evening till morning
Day 4: Two riders
Day 5: The cossack spirit
Day 6: We will sit together, and I will be the lord over lords
Day 7: The last day