Andre was home for a holiday break so he had taken this time to catch up on training – since they still weren’t letting him participate in novice classes at school and he didn’t want to get rusty. He had spent the whole morning down in the gym with Zach working on some new menuvers and he couldn’t wait to ‘show’ them to the idiots back at school.
He had just been heading up for lunch when he walked into the large living area of the house and saw his father. Now usually he would be ecstatic to see his father, he hadn’t seen either of his parents in months. Only problem was that when he saw them he either had advanced notice or he went to see them at Court - both situations gave him time to charm a ring to hide his appearance.
Yet here he was in front of his father, ringless. Which meant he was seeing him how he actually looked, long curly hair, five o'clock shadow, a piercing in one ear and since he had been working out shirtless - all the tattoo’s.
“Shit — heeyy Dad. I - I didnt know you where coming..”
Over the years, he’d experienced more than his fair share of surprises upon entering the house: his stoic guardian down on all fours, playing horsies—the tall man’s back loaded down with giggling children, or Adrian sprinting past him with Rose in hot pursuit, trying to catch him and smack him for something that he’d said. Hell, one time he’d even walked in on Yeva Belikova holding a séance of some sort—the old bat had wrapped a bath towel around her head like some sort of makeshift turban. All in all, he’d grown accustomed to the fact that he never knew what he’d find when he stepped through the front door… but he’d never, in a million years expected something like this.
He blinked, then closed his eyes, slowly reopening them—but the image before him remained the same.
“Okay…. I’ve either lost my marbles again… or your Aunts and Uncles have some serious explaining to do. I knew leaving you with Rose and Adrian was a risk… but I thought Dimitri and Viktoria would run a tight ship and be the voice of reason.”
He moved closer to the boy—no, to the young man—in front of him, slowly circling him, letting his eyes take in the entire spectacle. The last time he’d seen his son, Andre could have been the poster boy for what a proper young Royal should look like. His clothing had been immaculate, his hair neatly trimmed—he’d looked like a damned executive, without a piercing or tattoo in sight.
As his surprise faded, so did the initial sense of uptight parental outrage that had washed over him. He’d wanted his children to grow up away from the rigors and ridiculous social pomp that surrounded life at Court. He’d wanted them to experience the life he’d always longed for—the life he’d given up in lieu of supporting Lissa’s dreams. And while Andre’s current appearance was a shock, he had to admit the tattoos were tasteful and beautifully done. The piercing wasn’t horrible either—it gave Andre a dangerous edge that he actually envied. His son looked relaxed, and happy—not uptight and stiff, the way he always did at court.
Andre was free to express himself—to be the man his father had always wanted to be.
Christian smiled proudly, reaching out to tug on one of the dark curls that flopped down, partially covering his son’s blue eyes. “Man oh man… your mother would have a conniption right now. Lucky for you it’s just your old man who happens to think your new look is pretty damn cool.”
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