|
bookmarks:
|
main | ongoing | archive | private |
Afterwards his father only remarked, “His features are very fine.”
“I am not marrying him for his features,” said Damen.
“No, you are marrying him for his dowry,” said Theomedes.
“And now my prize,” Laurent said. “Whatever I wish, was it not?”
“Do continue,” Laurent said. “I find your attempt at dominance mildly interesting.”
Jokaste said, “Unfortunately, I do not find your attempt at playing nonchalance interesting at all.”
‘Thank you, I know exactly how it would have been. You and Auguste would have been slapping each other on the back and watching tournaments, and I would have been trailing around tugging on your sleeve, trying to get a look in edgewise.’
Upon his eighteenth birthday, Prince Laurent of Vere is stripped of his title and sent to Akielos as a pleasure slave.
Auguste turned around and said, too calmly: “Please repeat what you just said about my brother.”
“He’s very— he’s, um. Very.” Damen paused, tentatively searching for the right words. Auguste was beginning to look more and more murderous.
“He’s very what, Damen. Say it.” There was a burgeoning, insistent, crazed edge to his voice.
“Damianos,” Laurent said, quietly, a third time.
Damen still did not listen. “Then I will consummate it, and you will witness, and there will be no further discussion,” he said.
“I’m going to court him.”
There was a long pause. “That’s King Damianos of Akielos.”
“Okay,” Laurent replied.
Laurent is eleven when he’s introduced by his brother to Prince Damianos.