The Rose Prince Sugden - King of Hearts

And when I started thinking about what we haven’t seen yet?? Ohhh boyy.....we’re still missing:

the conversation with Ilya in Russia — absolutely preparing to be emotionally obliterated

the very sexy bathroom scene with Shane pressed up against the wall

the club scene where Shane finally meets Rose and Ilya in denial

the hockey pressure conversation with Scott ( possible intro of Scott+Kip) and the dance floor stare-down of Shane/Rose vs. Ilya/Svetlana

and of course, my fav the face-to-face moment where Shane and Ilya finally break past the surface-level rivalry and realise they’re in deep

And honestly… this has to be intentional, right? Slow-dripping the good stuff, lightly gatekeeping the rest, just to keep us feral and hanging on every weekly drop. Now that they know HR fans exist out in the wild (and loudly), it feels like a very deliberate little build-up.

And all of that is still waiting for us… in episodes that are 45–50 minutes each.

The romance, the softness, Ilya being a smug little menace, Shane and his devastating brown puppy eyes… it’s all lined up, waiting to hit us like a freight train.

I am so not ready.

And by “not ready,” I mean I am literally counting down the seconds until this show feralizes me beyond recovery.

ilya "throat goat" rozanov

Both of these boys and then men are trying to escape their parents' standards for them. Both of them feeling like they can't be anything less than flawless. Shane freaking out about being left in the hallway is about homophobia in sports. It's also about him being Japanese/Canadian and having to work three times as hard to be seen as the same as someone who isn't. Being gay on top of that is too much for him. Ilya's father is a typical Eastern European dad who shuns any emotional complexity and degrades his son for perceived failings.

Being queer isn't something they can simply reconcile. It will cost them their passion and their livelihoods (and means of escape.)

Ilya meets Shane on Shane's terms, meets Shane's needs because he likes Shane. At first it's because Shane is his rival. The one he acknowledges on the ice as the best and he respects him. He then gets aggravated by Shane's perfect French because he likes that about Shane. That he's different from him. And what they have isn't defined because they can't define it. They can't be boyfriends. They aren't together enough to be lovers. And yet, they both soften to this other person who...becomes their person.

Ilya specifically can't be outed because he would be made an example of in Russia. His father would disown him at best. And like all queer kids with shitty dads, he still wants his father to be proud of him.

So he puts distance between him and Shane because it is too easy to care about him and that's a risk he can't take.

Like, it's real easy to say someone is a fuck boy when taking everything out of context. They only meet about three times a year. They know they put themselves at risk every time they do. What is it you think they owe each other at this point? Neither one of them is ready and willing to admit that this is real between them and what that means.

I grew up in my grandmother's house - a home that was part family, part classroom, and part church. She was a teacher by profession, and because she taught Religious Studies, our living room became an extension of her classroom. Prayer wasn't a suggestion; it was part of our daily routine.

Every morning and every evening, she would call us like a strict sergeant: "Come. It's time to pray." We would gather half-asleep, mumbling verses we didn't fully understant, reading scriptures because it was something we had to do. My heart slowly hardened toward it, and prayer began to feel rigid, structured, and forced.

I didn't know back then that one day God would soften me. I didn't know that one day, He would use a little girl with a tender voice and gentle hands to transform the way I approched Him.

Now here I am, decades later, sitting beside my own daughter with our Bibles open, and everything feels different. Prayer no longer feels like a chore. It feels like breathing, it feels safe, but above all, it feels like a choice.

Something shifted along the way. I don't know when, and I don't know how, but I know this for sure: my daughter healed the way I pray. She prays with so much compassion, with a purity that disarms me. And her tiny hands have touched a part of my soul I didn't even know needed healing. While my gradmother's discipline may have planted the seed, my daughter is watering it with grace.

So, dear younger me...

One day you'll understand that Grandma wasn't harsh; she was teaching you the only way she knew how, with all the love she had. And one day, a little girl with gentler hands than yours will rewrite everything you thought you understood about prayer. Her tenderness will become your teacher. Her innocence will become your invitation into a softer way of knowing God. And through her, you'll finally experience Him - not differently from what Grandma hoped, but more deeply, more personally, more freely.

In the end, you'll realise that the prayers that once felt rigid were never the whole story; they were simply the foundation. Grace was always coming for you, carried in the small hands of the child you would one day call your own.

With love,

Your older, softer, still-learning self

Shane: Why what did youu hear?