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For a moment it seemed as if Laurent would say something else, but in the end he just stood up from the bench and held his hand out to the boy. “Come on. Let’s go. You can watch me get told off by my uncle.”
Such big brother vibes
“That is?” said Damen. Erasmus blushed and said in a very soft voice: “In case he found me pleasing, I was being trained for the Prince.” “Were you?” said Damen, with some interest. “Because of my colouring. You can’t see it in this light, but in daylight, my hair is almost blond.” “I can see it in this light,” said Damen.
And what did it mean, to be a prince, if he did not strive to protect those weaker than himself?
I'm a goner
“Very well. Let us play this out. You’re concerned for the well-being of the other slaves? Why hand me that kind of advantage?” “Advantage?” said Damen. “When someone doesn’t like you very much, it isn’t a good idea to let them know that you care about something,” said Laurent. Damen felt himself turn ashen as the threat sank in.
my DUDE, you MUST think 3 steps ahead! Get with the program you golden retriever!
Damen said, “Shall I make a face at the ones you don’t like, or is it enough to just look like a barbarian?” “Shut up,” said Laurent, calmly.
To have lost so much and gained so much, all in the space of a moment.” “That is the fate of all princes destined for a throne,” said Laurent.
the fact they both endure this breaks my heart.
“Good,” said Nicaise, and stabbed the fork viciously into Damen’s thigh under the table. Even through a layer of cloth, it was enough to make Damen start, and instinctively grab the fork, as three drops of blood welled up. “Excuse me a moment,” Laurent said smoothly, turning from Torveld to face Nicaise. “I made your pet jump,” said Nicaise, smugly. Not sounding at all displeased: “Yes, you did.” “Whatever you’re planning, it’s not going to work.” “I think it will, though. Bet you your earring.” “If I win, you wear it,” said Nicaise.
Laurent went very still; then he deliberately shifted in his seat and leaned in, bringing his lips right to Damen’s ear. “I think I’m out of stabbing range, he’s got short arms. Or perhaps he’ll try to throw a sugarplum? That is difficult. If I duck, he’ll hit Torveld.” Damen gritted his teeth. “You know what I meant. He heard you. He’s going to act. Can’t you do something about it?” “I’m occupied.” “Then let me do something.” “Bleed on him?” said Laurent.
BLEED ON HIM HAHA
Damen opened his mouth to reply and found his words stopped by the startling touch of Laurent’s fingers against his lips, a thumb brushing his jawline. 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.
First touch omg (besides the flogging ofc)
To demonstrate, Laurent picked up a confection of crushed nuts and honey and held it out to Damen as he had at the ring, between thumb and forefinger. “Sweetmeat?” said Laurent. In the stretched-out moment that followed, Damen thought explicitly about killing him.
That a man of Torveld’s honourable reputation would choose Laurent as the object of his affections was difficult to swallow, but perhaps Torveld admired reptiles.
HAHA
Then Ancel touched each end of the stick to the torch in the wall bracket, and they burst into flame. It was a kind of fire dance in which the stick was thrown and caught, and the flame, tossed and twirled, created sinuous shapes, circles and ever-moving patterns.
“I don’t have sleeves to carry handkerchiefs in,” said Damen. “I wouldn’t mind being given a knife.” “Or a fork?” said Laurent.
Laurent is full of jokes
“No,” said Laurent, without much interest. “That’s done for appearance’s sake only. I think not all the practices of this court would meet with the approval of Torveld’s delegation.” “What do you mean?”
“I warned you about Nicaise because he is not Councillor Audin’s pet. Haven’t you guessed yet whose pet he is?” Laurent said, and then, when he didn’t answer: “Ancel is too old to interest my uncle.”
UGH GROSS
Laurent dressed in black hunting leathers was an even more austere sight than normal.
Laurent’s fussy horse began acting out again, and he leaned forward in the saddle, murmuring something as he stroked her neck in an uncharacteristically gentle gesture to quiet her. Then he looked up at Damen.
“Hello,” said Damen. “I know that you have somehow arranged this,” said Erasmus. He was incapable of hiding what he felt and just seemed to radiate embarrassed happiness. “You kept your promise. You and your master. I told you he was kind,” Erasmus said. “You did,” said Damen. He was pleased to see Erasmus happy.
Erasmus, you little summer child. I love you.
“Has something happened?” The dogsman said, “Tread lightly. Your master’s in a vicious mood.” Well, that was order restored.
Sassy Damen.
Laurent was on the reclining couch, his feet tucked up under him in a relaxed, boyish posture. A book of scrollworked pages was open before him.
He was reading.
“I don’t think the Prince is in an amorous mood,” said Damen, neutrally. “I take a while to warm up,” said Laurent.
Damen tipped his head to one side and gave Laurent a long, scrutinising look all the way down to his boots, then back up again. “You’re wounded.” “No.”
This place sickened him. Anywhere else, you simply killed your enemy with a sword. Or poisoned him, if you had the honourless instincts of an assassin. Here, it was layer upon layer of constructed double-dealing, dark, polished and unpleasant.
“Wait,” said Laurent, as though he forced the word out, and hated saying it. “It’s too dangerous. Leaving now would be seen as an admission of guilt. The Regent’s Guard wouldn’t hesitate to have you killed. I can’t . . . protect you, as I am now.”
“Protect me,” said Damen, flat incredulity in his voice. “I am aware that you saved my life.” Damen just stared at him. Laurent said: “I dislike feeling indebted to you. Trust that, if you don’t trust me.” “Trust you?” said Damen. “You flayed the skin from my back. I have seen you do nothing but cheat and lie to every person you’ve encountered. You use anything and anyone to further your own ends. You are the last person I would ever trust.”
The night was becoming an obstacle course of outlandish challenges. Stop an assassination. Scale a wall. Fight Govart. What else?
Just you wait buttercup.
“You wouldn’t be the first young man to find himself at the mercy of a flush of new infatuation. Inexperience often confuses bedding with love. The slave could have convinced you to lie to us for him, having taken advantage of your innocence.” “Taken advantage of my innocence,” said Laurent.
RED FLAG RED FLAG RED FLAG RED FLAG RED FLAG
“Yes, apparently I have fucked my enemy, conspired against my future interests, and colluded in my own murder. I can’t wait to see what feats I will perform next.”
Laurent with the jokes again
After a moment, Damen saw the Regent’s hand lift again to rest in Laurent’s hair and stroke it with slow, familiar affection. Laurent remained quite still, head bowed, as strands of fine gold were pushed back from his face by the Regent’s heavy, ringed fingers. “Laurent. Why must you always defy me? I hate it when we are at odds, yet you force me to chastise you. 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.”
You make me sick
An apostrophe appeared at one corner of Laurent’s lips.
HA
two thrones for the price of a few hired swords and a dose of pleasure drug. He remembered Nicaise, appearing in the hallway with his huge blue eyes, wearing bed clothes.
GOD WHAT. NO. NICAISE.
Laurent was leaving tomorrow. Laurent, infuriating, intolerable Laurent, was pursuing the worst possible course, and there was nothing Damen could do to stop him.
The Regent could have dispensed with his nephew years ago, with little fuss. It was easier to blame the death of a boy on mischance than that of a young man about to ascend to the throne. Damen could see no reason why boy-Laurent should have escaped that fate. Perhaps familial loyalty had held the Regent back . . . until Laurent had blossomed into poisonous maturity, sly-natured and unfit to rule.
Damen felt a certain amount of empathy with the man: Laurent could inspire homicidal tendencies simply by breathing.
“Sleeping in his tent?” “Where else?” He passed a hand over his face. Laurent had agreed to this?
Hell yes.
Damen caught sight of Govart’s familiar form. Immediately, he stiffened. “What is he doing here?” “Captaining the Guard.” “What?” “Yes, it’s an interesting arrangement, isn’t it?” said Laurent.
Laurent took it without saying anything. He tucked it carefully into a fold of his riding clothes. Then after a moment, he reached out, and touched Nicaise’s chin with one knuckle. “You look better without all the paint,” said Laurent.
“Do you think a compliment will impress me?” said Nicaise. “It won’t. I get them all the time.” “I know you do,” said Laurent.
RED FLAG RED FLAG RED FLAG RED FLAG
