The slight flutter of the pulse in Laurent’s neck belied his steady exterior. Damen could feel the reverberation that he was covering, the control he exercised over his breathing.
‘Have I?’ said Laurent. ‘Oh, that’s right. You had to replace a bed boy. Don’t blame me too much. He would have been too old for you this year anyway.’
The Regent considered Laurent, a slow perusal that took several moments; as he considered, he spoke.
‘These petulant remarks have never suited you. The mannerisms of a boy sit so unattractively on a man.’ His voice was mild, speculative, perhaps faintly disappointed. ‘You know, Nicaise really thought you would help him. He didn’t know your nature, that you’d abandon a boy to treason and death out of petty spite. Or was there some other reason you killed him?’
‘Your bought whore? I didn’t think anyone would miss him.’
Damen had to force himself not to take a step back. He had forgotten the bloodless violence of these exchanges.
‘He’s been replaced,’ said the Regent.
‘I thought he would be. You cut his head off. It makes it a little difficult for him to suck your cock.’
After a moment, the Regent spoke musingly to Damen. ‘I assume whatever tawdry pleasure you get from him in bed leads you to overlook his nature. After all, you are an Akielon. There must be satisfaction to be had in getting the Prince of Vere under you. He is unpleasant, but that would barely register when you are rutting.’
Damen said, very steadily, ‘You’re alone. You can’t use weapons. You don’t have men. You may have taken us by surprise, but that will gain you nothing. Your words are meaningless.’
‘By surprise? You are refreshingly artless,’ said the Regent. ‘Laurent was expecting me. He is here to give himself up for the child.’
‘Laurent isn’t here to give himself up,’ said Damen, and in the second of silence that followed his words, he turned, and saw Laurent’s face.
Laurent was white, his shoulders straight, his silence a kind of acceptance of a deal that had long since been made between himself and his uncle. Give yourself up, and all that is yours will be returned to you.
There was something terrible, suddenly, about the Kingsmeet, the impassive, white-cloaked soldiers posted at intervals, the immense white stones. Damen said, ‘No.’
‘My nephew is predictable,’ the Regent said. ‘He has freed Jokaste, because he knows that I would never trade a tactical advantage for a whore. And he has come here to give himself up for the child. He doesn’t even care whose child it is. He just knows it’s in danger, and that you’ll never fight me while I have it. He’s found the way to ensure that in the end, you will win: give himself up, in exchange for your child’s life.’
Laurent’s silence was that of a man exposed. He didn’t look at Damen. He just stood, breathing shallowly, his body rigid, as though he was bracing himself.
The Regent said, ‘But that exchange doesn’t interest me, nephew.’
In the pause that followed, Laurent’s expression changed. Damen barely had time to register the volte-face before Laurent said, in a tight voice, ‘It’s a trap. You can’t listen to him. We need to go.’
The Regent spread his hands. ‘But I am here alone.’
‘Damen, get out,’ said Laurent.
‘No,’ said Damen. ‘He’s just one man.’
‘Damen,’ said Laurent.
‘No.’
He made himself take in the Regent fully, his close-cropped beard, the dark hair, and the blue eyes that were his only point of physical commonality with Laurent.
‘I’m the one he’s come here to make a deal with,’ said Damen.
The Kingsmeet, with its strict laws against violence, was the one place where two enemies could meet and strike a bargain. There was something fitting about facing the Regent here, in this ceremonial place made for adversaries.
He said, ‘Tell me your terms for the child.’
‘Oh,’ said the Regent, ‘No. The child is not on offer. I’m sorry, were you thinking of making a grand gesture? I prefer to keep him. No, I am here for my nephew. He is going to stand trial before the Council. Then he will die for his crimes. I don’t need to negotiate, or give up the child. Laurent is going to get down on his knees and beg me to take him. Aren’t you, Laurent?’
Laurent said, ‘Damen, I told you to get out.’
‘Laurent will never kneel to you,’ said Damen. He pushed himself forward to stand between Laurent and the Regent.