That his most...unusual lover had watched him grow up, was in fact as old as life itself? Thinking of that did occasionally give him pause. He probably should not be involved with someone he had childhood memories of. If his partner were human, Rudolf suspected he would have found the implications of this entire scenario rather distasteful.

He generally tried not to even think about the fact that he was seeing someone who was in love with his mother--had loved her longer than Rudolf had even been alive. He knew he was just a substitute, the closest his friend could get to the Empress in this way. He also knew that if she ever changed her mind, ever decided to accept the advances he was well aware she still received regularly, he would likely be abandoned without a thought. But that, too, was familiar.

He had long ago decided that regardless of all the drawbacks to their relationship, it was worth it. At last someone saw him for who he was, not who they wanted or expected him to be. Not in terms of who he wasn't, the standards he failed to live up to, either. At last someone--someone who could actually visit him in the Hofburg or Schönbrunn (or anywhere else he happened to be, for that matter) without risking arrest--was willing to discuss politics with him, and at least feign interest in his ideas. At last someone took him seriously.

And when it came right down to it, they were using each other, both wanting more from the Empress than she was ever willing to give. He took comfort in that fact, in knowing that Valerie was the exception, not him. In knowing that though he may have failed in earning his mother's attention and affection, so had one who'd been trying to gain them for even longer, and who had advantages a mere mortal never would. They used each other because both had ties to the woman around whom, in different ways, their lives revolved, and being with each other was the closest either could get to her.

And if he was just kidding himself, if none of this was real and the time they spent together was simply an illusion or some bizarre form of the Wittelsbach insanity the Empress was so terrified of...well, even a temporary escape was welcome. God knew he had none in his daily life. Though the nature of their relationship would almost certainly change eventually, this was one lover who could say with absolute truth that they'd always be there, and that sort of continuity was precious to him.

Wrong? Perhaps. But Rudolf was not about to turn away the one constant in his life.

Even if it killed him.