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Damen assumed that he was to do the same, but he felt Laurent’s grip tighten subtly on the leash.
His huge blue eyes were fringed like a whore’s, or like a doe’s.
It was the sort of absent touch that any master at the table might give to a pet. But from the shocked reaction that rolled over the courtiers at the table, it was clear that Laurent did not do this sort of thing often. Or ever.
In the stretched-out moment that followed, Damen thought explicitly about killing him.
He wants money, status. He is foolish. Lord Berenger may offer less money, but he is kind, and never puts pets into the ring. Ancel has made many enemies. In the ring, someone will scratch his green eyes out, an ‘accident.’”
“I’m in his service. I have that lesson written on my back.”
On the other side was this man who had long since won his respect.
“I don’t have sleeves to carry handkerchiefs in,” said Damen. “I wouldn’t mind being given a knife.” “Or a fork?” said Laurent.
To Laurent: “You let him speak to his betters like that?” “Not to his betters,” said Laurent. Nicaise flushed at that.
“Ancel is too old to interest my uncle.”
Considering Nicaise’s loyalties, it was strange that Laurent had seemed drawn to him—had seemed even oddly to like him—but who knew what went on in that maze of a mind?
Maybe it was a way of reliving those moments, of repairing his failure because he had not reacted as quickly as he should have, then.
Damen did as he was told.
Invoking Laurent’s bad mood was like a magical key, unlocking the most forbidding doors.
What rankled the most was that Laurent had been right.
“It’s the bitch’s pups,” said the soldier in charge, with total contempt.
He was right near a part of the tapestry where a boar was speared under a tree heavy with pomegranates.
Laurent had only two options: earn himself their censure by continuing a beleaguered wrangle mired in accusations and failure, or agree to border duty and get what he wanted.
You seem determined to wreck everything in your path. Blessed with gifts, you squander them. Given opportunities, you waste them. I hate to see you grown up like this,” said the Regent, “when you were such a lovely boy.”
Then, startlingly, he was given a sword belt. Even more startlingly, he was given a sword to put in it.
“I would never ask you to do anything you found distasteful,” said Laurent. “Looking at you is distasteful,” said Nicaise.
If it was the only way to prevent war, or postpone it, then Damen would do whatever was necessary to keep Laurent safe. He had meant that.
