The sun, sinking low in the sky, brought light into his room through the grilled windows.
When Radel entered, Damen begged an audience with the Prince.
Radel, with obvious relish, refused. The Prince, said Radel, did not care to trouble himself with a turncoat Akielon slave. He had more exalted business to attend to. Tonight there was a banquet in honour of the Patran Ambassador. Eighteen courses, and the most talented pets entertaining with dance and games and performance
. Knowing Patran culture, Damen could only imagine the reaction of the delegation to the more inventive entertainments of the Veretian court, but he stayed silent as Radel described the glory of the table, and the courses in detail, and the wines: mulberry wine and fruit wine and sinopel. Damen was not fit for that company. Damen was not fit to eat the leavings from the table. Radel, having made his point at satisfactory length, left.
Damen waited. He knew that Radel would be obliged to pass on the request.
He had no illusions about his relative importance in Laurent’s household, but if nothing else, his inadvertent role in Laurent’s power struggle with his uncle meant that his request for an audience would not be ignored. Would probably not be ignored. He settled in, knowing that Laurent would make him wait. Surely not longer than a day or two, he thought.
That was what he thought. And so, when night came, he slept.
He woke amid crushed pillows and disturbed silken sheets to find that Laurent’s cool blue gaze was on him.
The torches were lit and the servants who had lit them were withdrawing. Damen moved; silk, skin-warm, slid away completely to pool among the cushions as he pushed himself up. Laurent paid it no attention. Damen recalled that a visit from Laurent had woken him from sleep once before.
It was closer to dawn than sunset. Laurent was dressed in court clothes, having come, presumably, after the eighteenth course and whatever nightly entertainments had followed. Not drunk this time.
Damen had expected a long, excruciating wait. There was slight resistance from the chain as it dragged across the cushions, following his movement. He thought about what he had to do, and why he had to do it.
Very deliberately, he knelt, and bowed his head, and lowered his eyes to the floor. For a moment, it was so quiet that he could hear the flames from the torches fluttering in the air.
‘This is new,’ said Laurent.
‘There’s something I want,’ said Damen.
‘Something you want.’ The same words, precisely enunciated.
He had known it was not going to be easy. Even with someone else, not this cold, unpleasant prince, it would not be easy.
‘You get something in return,’ said Damen.
He set his jaw as Laurent slowly paced around him, as though simply interested in viewing him from all angles. Laurent stepped mincingly over the chain that lay slack on the ground, completing his tour.
‘Are you misguided enough to try to bargain with me? What could you possibly offer that I would want?’
‘Obedience,’ said Damen.
He felt Laurent react to that idea. Subtly but unmistakably, the interest was there. Damen tried not to think too much about what he was offering, what it would mean to keep this promise. He would face that future when he came to it.
‘You want me to submit. I’ll do it. You want me to publicly earn the punishment that your uncle won’t let you mete out? Whatever performance you want from me, you’ll have it. I will throw myself on the sword. In exchange for one thing.’
‘Let me guess. You want me to take off your chains. Or reduce your guard. Or put you in a room where the doors and windows are unbarred. Don’t waste your breath.’
Damen forced the anger down. It was more important to be clear. ‘I don’t think the slaves in your uncle’s care are well treated. Do something about it, and the bargain is made.’
‘The slaves?’ Laurent said, after a slight pause. And then, with renewed drawling scorn: ‘Am I supposed to believe you care about their welfare? How exactly would they be treated better in Akielos? It is your barbaric society that forced them into slavery, not mine. I would not have thought it possible to train the will out of a man, but you have managed it. Congratulations. Your show of compassion rings false.’
Damen said, ‘One of the handlers took a heated iron from the fire to test whether the slave would obey an order to stay silent while he used it. I don’t know if that is usual practice in this place, but good men don’t torture slaves in Akielos. Slaves are trained to obey in all things, but their submission is a pact: they give up free will in exchange for perfect treatment. To abuse someone who cannot resist—isn’t that monstrous?’
Damen said, ‘Please. They’re not like me. They’re not soldiers. They haven’t killed anyone. They’re innocent. They will serve you willingly. And so will I, if you do something to help them.’
There was a long silence. Laurent’s expression had changed.
Finally, Laurent said, ‘You overestimate my influence over my uncle.’
Damen began to speak, but Laurent cut him off.