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Laurent narrowed his eyes at the problem, but offered no immediate solution.

Damen said, ‘You could bring in more men.’

Behind him were strewn the cushions and rumpled silk sheets, and trailing across the floor was the single chain linked to his wrist-cuff that was no impediment to movement at all.

‘You are really courting danger tonight,’ Laurent said.

‘Am I? I thought I was appealing to your better nature. Order whatever punishment you like, from the coward’s distance of a chain-length. You and Govart are two of a kind.’

It was not Laurent but the guard who reacted, steel flashing out of the sheath. ‘Watch your mouth.’

He was wearing livery, not armour. The threat was negligible. Damen looked at his drawn sword with scorn. ‘You’re no better. You saw what Govart was doing. You did nothing to stop him.’

Laurent raised a hand, halting the guard before he could take another angry step forward.

‘What was it he was doing?’ said Laurent.

The guard stepped back, then shrugged. ‘Raping one of the slaves.’

There was a pause, but if Laurent had any reaction to these words, it didn’t show on his face. Laurent transferred his gaze back to Damen and said, pleasantly, ‘Does that bother you? I recall you being free with your own hands, not so very long ago.’

‘That was—’ Damen flushed. He wanted to deny that he’d done anything of the kind, but he remembered rather unequivocally that he had. ‘I promise you, Govart did a great deal more than simply enjoy the view.’

‘To a slave,’ Laurent said. ‘The Prince’s Guard doesn’t interfere with the Regency. Govart can stick his cock into anything of my uncle’s he likes.’

Damen made a sound of disgust. ‘With your blessing?’

‘Why not?’ said Laurent. His voice was honeyed. ‘He certainly had my blessing to fuck you, but it turned out he’d rather take a blow to the head. Disappointing, but I can’t fault his taste. Then again, maybe if you’d spread in the ring, Govart wouldn’t have been so hot to get inside your friend.’

Damen said, ‘This isn’t a scheme of your uncle’s. I don’t take orders from men like Govart. You’re wrong.’

‘Wrong,’ said Laurent. ‘How lucky I am to have servants to point out my shortcomings. What makes you think I will tolerate any of this, even if I believed what you are saying to be true?’

‘Because you can end this conversation any time you like.’

With so much at stake, Damen was sick of certain kinds of exchanges; the kind Laurent favoured, and enjoyed, and was good at. Wordplay for its own sake; words that built traps. None of it meant anything.

‘You’re right. I can. Leave us,’ Laurent said. He was gazing at Damen while he said it, but it was Radel and the guards who bowed and went out.

‘Very well. Let us play this out. You’re concerned for the wellbeing 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.

‘Would it hurt worse than a lashing for me to cut down someone you care for?’ said Laurent.

Damen was silent. Why do you hate us so much? he almost said, except that he knew the answer to that question.

‘I don’t think I need to bring in more men,’ said Laurent. ‘I think all I have to do is tell you to kneel, and you’ll do it. Without me lifting a finger to help anyone.’

‘You’re right,’ said Damen.

‘I can end this any time I like?’ said Laurent. ‘I haven’t even begun.’

‘The Prince’s orders,’ Damen was told the next day, stripped and re-dressed, and when he asked what these preparations were for, he was told that tonight he would serve the Prince at the high table.


Tags: C.S. Pacat Captive Prince Fantasy