“I lack," said Laurent, "the easy mannerisms that are usually shared with," you could see him pushing the words out, "a lover."
"You lack the easy mannerisms that are usually shared with anyone," said Damen.”
“Then, in the spirit of benevolence, "Your face is well balanced." She slapped him encouragingly on the back, "You have very long eyelashes. Like a cow.”
“To get what you want, you have to know exactly how much you are willing to give up.
Never had he wanted something this badly, and held it in his hands knowing that tomorrow it would be gone, traded for the high cliffs of Ios, and the uncertain future across the border, the chance to stand before his brother, to ask him for all the answers that no longer seemed important. A kingdom, or this.”
“Stop enjoying yourself," Damen murmured. "We're going to be killed, any minute."
"Giant animal," said Laurent.
"Stop it.”
“That’s right, I’m still captured,’ said Damen.
‘Your eyes say, “For now,”’ Laurent said. ‘Your eyes have always said, “For now.”
“After a long moment Laurent said, with painful honesty, "I...find it difficult to let go of control."
"No kidding," said Damen.”
“To get what you want, you have to know exactly how much you are willing to give up.”
“It was with a shock that he felt the touch of Laurent's fingers against the back of his wrist. [...] Laurent was shifting the fabric of his sleeve, sliding it back slightly to reveal the gold underneath, until the wrist cuff he had asked the blacksmith to leave on was exposed between them.
'Sentiment?' said Laurent.
'Something like that.'
Their eyes met and he could feel each beat of his heart. A few seconds of silence, a space that lengthened, until Laurent spoke.
'You should give me the other.”
“Let him come to Charcy, with his hithertos and his wherefores, and there he will find me, and with all the might of my kingdom I will scourge him from the field.
"And if you want a personal message," said Laurent, "You can tell my uncle boykiller that he can cut the head off every child from here to the capital. It won't make him into a king, it will simply mean he has no one left to fuck.”
“That isn't why. She would have chosen him even if you'd had royal blood in your veins, even if you'd had the same blood as Kastor. You don't understand the way a mind like that thinks. I do. If I were Jokaste and a king maker, I'd have chosen Kastor over you too.'
'I suppose you are going to enjoy telling me why,' said Damen. He felt his hands curl into fists, heard the bitterness in his throat.
'Because a king maker would always choose the weaker man. The weaker the man, the easier he is to control.”
“Damen felt Laurent start shaking against him, and realised that, silently, helplessly, he was laughing.
There came the sound of at least two more sets of footsteps striding into the room, greeted with: 'Here he is. We found him fucking this derelict, disguised as the tavern prostitute.'
'This is the tavern prostitute. You idiot, the Prince of Vere is so celibate I doubt he even touches himself once every ten years. You. We're looking for two men. One was a barbarian soldier, a giant animal. The other was blond. Not like this boy. Attractive.'
'There was a blond lord's pet downstairs,' said Volo. 'Brained like a pea and easy to hoodwink. I don't think he was the Prince.'
'I wouldn't call him blond. More like mousy. And he wasn't that attractive,' said the boy, sulkily.
The shaking, progressively, had worsened.
'Stop enjoying yourself,' Damen murmured. 'We're going to be killed, any minute.'
'Giant animal,' said Laurent.
'Stop it.”
“When laced into his clothing, Laurent's dangerous grace lent him an almost androgynous quality. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that it was rare to associate Laurent with a physical body at all: you were always dealing with a mind.”
“You remind me of him. He was the best man I have ever known.”
“He said, 'Damianos.'
Before Damen could tell him to rise, he heard it again, echoed in another voice, and then another. It was passing over the gathered men in the courtyard, his name in tones of shock and of awe. The steward beside Nikandros was kneeling. And then four of the men in the front ranks. And then more, dozens of men, rank after rank of soldiers.
And as Damen looked out, the army was dropping to its knees, until the courtyard was a sea of bowed heads, and silence replaced the murmur of voices, the words spoken over and over again.
'He lives. The King's son lives. Damianos.'”
“Laurent wasn't loved. Laurent wasn't liked. Even among his own men, who would follow him off a cliff, there was the unequivocal consensus that Laurent was, as Orlant had once described him, a cast iron bitch, that it was a very bad idea to get on his bad side, and that as for his good side, he didn't have one.”
“Damen now knew the precise number of arrows Laurent needed to have trained on him in order to shut him up. It was six.”
“This," said Laurent, "is a little more—"
It was a word of sharp points: "—intimate," he said, "than ice."
"Too intimate?" Damen said. Slowly, he was kneading Laurent's shoulders.
He did not usually think of himself as someone with suicidal impulses.”
“She was intelligent, accomplished, beautiful. She was everything I could have asked for in a woman. But she was a king maker. She wanted power. She must have thought her only path to the throne was through Kastor.'
'My honourable barbarian. I wouldn't have picked that as your type.'
'Type?'
'A pretty face, a devious mind and a ruthless nature.”
“Stay with me until this thing is done, and I will take off the cuffs and the collar. I will release you willingly. We can face each other as free men. Whatever is to fall out between us can do so then.”
“He wasn't sure how it would be, but
when Laurent saw who was beside him,
he smiled, the expression a
little shy but completely genuine.
Damen, who hadn't been expecting it,
felt the single painful beat of his heart.
He'd never thought Laurent could look
like that at anyone.”
“Damen to Jord about Laurent: 'He needs me,' said Damen. 'I don't care if you tell the world.”
“I'm twenty years old,' said Laurent, 'and I've been the recipient of offers almost as long as I can remember.'
'Is that an answer?' said Damen.
'I'm not a virgin,' said Laurent.
'I wondered,' Damen said, carefully, 'if you reserved your love for women.'
'No, I--' Laurent sounded surprised. Then he seemed to realise that his surprise gave something fundamental away, and he looked away with a muttered breath; when he looked back at Damen there was a wry smile on his lips, but he said, steadily, 'No.'
'Have I said something to offend you? I didn't mean--'
'No. A plausible, benign and uncomplicated theory. Trust you to come up with it.'
'It's not my fault that no one in your country can think in a straight line,' said Damen, frowning a touch defensively.”
“Can you stand? We need to move out. It's not safe for you here. Too many people want to kill you.'
After a moment, Laurent said, 'Everyone to the south, but only half the people to the north.”
“It’s not naive to trust your family.’
‘I promise you, it is,’ said Laurent. ‘But I wonder, is it less naive than the moments when I find myself trusting a stranger, my barbarian enemy, whom I do not treat gently.”
“Why do you give me good advice?"
asked Laurent.
Isn't that why you brought me with
you? Instead of speaking those words
aloud, Damen said, "Why don't you take
any of it?”
“You can tell my uncle boykiller that he can cut the head off every child from here to the capital. It won't make him into a king, it will simply mean he has no one left to fuck.”
“What are you doing?" Damen's breath
was shaky.
"What am I doing? You are not very
observant."
"You're not yourself," said Damen. "And
even if you were, you don't do anything
without a dozen motives."
Laurent went very still, the soft words
half bitter. "Don't I? I must want
something.”
“They are surely gods who speak to him
With steady voices
A glance from him drives men to their
knees
His sigh brings cities to ruin
I wonder if he dreams of surrender
On a bed of white flowers
Or is that the mistaken hope
Of every would-be conqueror?
The world was not made for beauty like
his.”
“I want you," said Damen.
"You've had me," said Laurent. "Twice.
I can still feel the . . . sensation of it."
Laurent shifted, just so. Damen buried
his face in Laurent's neck and groaned,
and there was laughter too, and
something akin to happiness that hurt as
it pushed at the inside of his chest.
"Stop it. You will not be able to walk,"
said Damen.
"I'd welcome the chance to walk," said
Laurent. "I have to ride a horse.”
“The next night, alone in the tent, Laurent said: 'As we draw closer to the border, I think it would be safer--more private--to hold our discussions in your language rather than mine.'
He said it in carefully pronounced Akielon.
Damen stared at him, feeling as though the world had just been rearranged.
'What is it?' said Laurent.
'Nice accent,' said Damen, because despite everything, the corner of his mouth was beginning helplessly to curve up.
[...]
It was of course no surprise to find that Laurent had a well-stocked armoury of elegant phrases and bitchy remarks, but could not talk in detail about anything sensible.”
“Her husband had archaic ideas about jewels; a man bought them for his wife in acknowledgement of things he could not gracefully utter.”
“The more you like a girl, the less she likes you. It’s like fucking scientific.”
“What about you and Kim?”
“That’s what I’m talking about, little dude. If I start being nice and acting cool and saying things
and being on time, she starts acting, you know, fucking uninterested. But if I act like a total dick, then
she calls me all the fucking time. It’s fucking crazy, because I really like her and all, but when I say
nice shit to her, she gets all freaked out and says she needs some fucking space and all. So I just act
like I don’t give a shit, you know? It’s all part of God’s plan,” he said, nodding.”
“What was the payoff? It obviously kept me in my cozy zone of being in control, being a good mother, with a good daughter. Most of all, I realize, is that it allowed me to maintain the lie that she was healed, that Nick hadn't permanently damaged her, that I'd truly saved her. Because if I did, if there was no lasting residue of him, it meant that the denial that kept me in the marriage long enough for him to hurt her didn't help create the situation she's in now.
The person who I worked hardest to keep safe seems to have been me.”
“.....the light you possess will burn to the great benefit of this world long after our poor footprints have been washed from the sand.”
“What advice would I give the average homeowner to protect himself against burglars? Well, the first thing is to keep a light on in the house when you go out. It must be at least a sixty-watt bulb; anything less and the burglar will ransack the house, out of contempt for the wattage.”
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