‘I don’t think about her often. Only when I come here.’ ‘You don’t take after her.’ ‘Oh?’ ‘Her statue in Ios is three feet tall.’ The corner of Damen’s mouth twitched. He knew the statue, on a plinth in the north hall. ‘There’s a statue of her here. Come and meet her.’ It was part of the nonsense they were sharing, a whim, to show Laurent. He tugged; they came to an arched open garden. ‘I take it back, you’re just like her.’ Laurent said it looking up. The statue here was bigger. Damen was smiling; there was delight in seeing Laurent explore himself, a young man who was sweet, teasing, at
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