bakerstreet | Companion to Royalty

Companion to Royalty

Companion to Royalty Meme

There's one truth you must know of royalty: though power may lay in their hands, the crown is a cage. Whether you've always been noble, came into this position recently by complete surprise, or a simple person caught in the fray, you're realizing that leaders actually lead very little - even down to choosing who they spend their most intimate moments with. From eternal bonds of matrimonies to the distractions provided by courtesans, the people behind the throne make the rules. They cannot risk losing control of their most elevated and strategically placed pawn with a match gone wrong, which could create a domino effect and doom possibly thousands.

So, what part do you play in this game?

Lifetime Royal: This is what you've been raised to do.
Sudden Royal: You just learned of your position, which has been secret from you your entire life, or you unexpectedly inherited the job.
Spouse: You're to be married to nobility.
Concubine or Courtesan: For the royal, you're to be a sexual diversion.
Unaffiliated: You're either a lower-ranking noble or a peasant, but you're free from all the machinations of the shadowy cabal...for now.

How willing are you?

Completely Willing: Either you love the person you know you'll be matched with, or you're excited about the possibilities.
Wary: There's no choice in the matter for you, so you may as well approach this situation cautiously.
Unwilling: You didn't want to be matched up with someone. At all. Ever.

What path will you follow, once you're set upon it (there is, after all, little choice for the chosen ones)?

Prepared for This: Either you're a royal and have been one since birth, or you knew you'd marry or sexually entertain one.
Make Up for Lost Time: This life wasn't the one you lived until now, but times change. You're important or will be a companion to a very important person, like it or not.
A Sacrificial Token: Somewhere along the line, your people royally pissed off someone in a key position. So, in an attempt to smooth out relations, you've been given away as a gift to the highest power, either as a spouse for a political alliance or as a concubine or courtesan.
Pomp and Circumstance: All proper, this arrangement. You're to be married, as you've been promised to each other by your respective families. Consummation on the wedding night is key. Perhaps it's encouraged that the two of you act as if this is really a love match, to add insult to injury.
Genuine Love: Speaking of love matches, congratulations! You're one of the incredible few who gets to marry for love, so your lovemaking should be all the more enthused.
Only a Plaything: Heavy is the head who wears the crown, so you're expected to take on some side entertainment even if that's not your preference. Or you could be the courtesan...such a pretty, perfumed word for what the role really is...
Volunteered: You wanted this position, either of spouse or concubine. Your reasons are your own.
Cruel: You're powerful. You can do what you want to this person, a mere ant in comparison to you.
Forbidden: Even the most powerful can't have everything they want, such as someone who's promised to or with another; taking them for your own would create strife and destroy alliances, even to the point of tempting war.
Work Your Way Up: There's always a right tool for the job and you find no shame in using your own special tools to better your life.
Give Me an Heir: Whether you're legitimate or a concubine used as a surrogate, you must help in continuing the royal line.
Mutual Benefit: Both of you are comfortable with this arrangement because you're either compatible or it takes the pressure off of you otherwise.
Want to be More: Though you've been relegated to courtesan, you want to be there one and only spouse...no matter if that role is already filled or not.
Growing Affection: It may have started as all puppet strings and power plays, but now, you lo- care for them.
Loved Before: Before you became so important and powerful, before you became the focus of all the world, it seems, they were there with you. They were with you then, and you want them to be with you now. They ground you and they care about you for you.
Because You're Normal: They're outside of all the court's nonsense, and that's appealing to you. It's like a breath of fresh air.
WILDCARD

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[The Ice Prince of Vere. Either King or Crown Prince. Can AU him to be the younger brother of the King/Crown Prince, for arranged marriage to other royals.]

Despite being the heir to the throne, Gansey's life had been fairly uneventful insofar as politics went.

His parents, the reigning king and queen, allowed his eccentricities. Spending hours wrapped up in the grand library of their castle reading through books, traipsing through the wood surrounding their land on foot without a heavy barrage of guards weighing him down, mingling with the common folk simply because he was fascinated by them. His best friends even happened to be common. A surprising amount of freedom for the next king. And the people loved him for his oddities. How he would vibrantly tell stories with a voice like liquid gold, detail history for those that were curious, and offer help to those far below his status. There was no doubt that Richard Campbell Gansey the Third would be an excellent king. It came naturally to him.

And he mostly kept abreast of politics and how they fared with neighboring kingdoms. Theirs was a smaller one, and his older sister, Helen, had been engaged and married off to a neighboring lord just last year for the sake of security. Not that it made Gansey think about his own situation in regards to marriage. Helen was older than he and she'd liked the lord anyway, so it didn't make him consider his own probable impending nuptials. Too happy to read his books and study the behavior of past kings, understand them, and consider how he'd rule when the time came for him to do so.

He only thought about marriage at breakfast, when his mother politely and calmly told him that they had received word that his betrothed was to arrive later that day and that he should wear the olive cloak that matched his eyes, as if she were merely commenting on how the eggs were just slightly overdone. He had choked on his in response. To wit she responded that if he was going to choke on his breakfast, he should strive to do it in a more kingly manner.

Which was how, dressed in his olive cloak and fine brown and gold doublet, he ended up standing outside the castle behind the king and queen, waiting to greet his supposed betrothed. He only had a name—Laurent—and that he was apparently a very charming young man. Which Gansey did not doubt (his mother had excellent taste) but he was still quite winded by everything. Regardless, he was practiced enough to not let his surprise and anxiety about the entire situation leak even a little. His smile was crisp and he was the picture of perfect prince, prepared to greet his intended with kindness.

Laurent couldn't claim that this situation was unexpected, however unpleasant he might find it. When he had been informed of the treaty and his impending nuptials, Laurent had quarreled with his brother, objecting--in no uncertain terms--to being whored out for political gain. He hadn't bid farewell to his father, and departed the palace in a icy temper, speaking to no one.

Within a few hours, he regretted it. It might be months or years before he saw his family again, and he would have liked to leave with his father's blessing and his brother's love.

Laurent had always known, as the younger brother of the future king, that he would be married off for political gain. He'd hated the idea, and had often allowed himself to believe that they might allow him to remain a dusty scholar forever, hiding in the library where he could be overlooked.

He remembered meeting the mother of his future betrothed. She had been kind and sensible, with a dry humor that had charmed Laurent. Accustomed to being blatantly courted by kings and dukes who were forward to the point of harassment, Laurent hadn't thought twice about the Queen's friendly interest or her unmarried son.

If it had been a daughter, Laurent would have refused outright. He wanted to sire no children, and he knew his own heart well enough to know that he preferred men. If he had to be sold to the highest bidder, he at least wanted to be permitted some hope of happiness in his fate. It seemed that his brother Auguste had taken that into account when he'd secured the match. Richard Campbell Gansey the Third, on paper, was precisely to Laurent's tastes. Handsome--if the paintings of him were to be believed--healthy--if the reports of him were to be believed--and loved by his people, the crown prince had every likelihood of growing into a very respectable king.

The elegant carriage drew up before the foreign castle, the door was opened, and Laurent descended.

He was strikingly beautiful. Sunlight glinted off his pale gold hair and shone on the sharply-hewn edges of his face. His rosy lips were full and elegant, though the line of them was spoilt somewhat by how he pressed them together, unsmiling. Likewise was his beauty spoilt by the severity of his dark blue clothing, tightly laced up to his throat. He looked like a stoic rather than a prince, and seemed simultaneously indulgent and ascetic.

Ascending the steps of the castle without hesitation, Laurent bowed to the king and queen. He greeted them with perfect diplomatic politeness, and his pretty face lightened and warmed as he spoke to them, becoming charming. And yet when he turned to speak to the prince, that charm melted away, leaving only crisp diplomacy in its wake.

"My pleasure to make your acquaintance," Laurent said, with the most cursory bow that protocol allowed. He was exactingly polite and proper, but no more and no less than decorum demanded, and certainly not accommodating for any measure of friendliness.

Upon first glance of his intended, Gansey knew instantly why his mother had pursued him. He was stunningly beautiful and the Queen loved beautiful things and people. Not that she was quite so shallow as to base her choice on that alone. No doubt the young man had countless other qualities that she deemed compatible with her only son. But she would never pair any of her children with someone that was not their match in all things, which included looks.

The guards around them were obviously enchanted immediately. Understandably so, Gansey thought, given that this Laurent was fair and stunning in a way that was very uncommon around these parts. What struck Gansey, however, was how... unhappy this young man seemed. No smile as he descended like an angel from the sky. It was not just the harshness from the contrast of dark blue to pale skin (not that it helped, either).

Politely, Gansey waited as his mother and father greeted him first, as was customary. For a brief moment he thought that the man merely had a case of nerves; he had brightened when he spoke to the King and Queen. But the warmth seemed to fade when he faced Gansey.

Not that he would allow that to make him miss a beat. Gansey put himself in Laurent's shoes—far from home, meeting his betrothed for the first time without his family by his side, in a foreign land—he would be anxious. If friendliness was not extended to him then he would be the first to extend the branch. So the smile he gave Laurent was eminently warm, a small crease forming beneath his right eye, a tiny dimple.

"The pleasure is all mine, Prince Laurent. Thank you for coming all this way."

His voice, paired to match his smile, was friendly and welcoming. Even his eyes reflected that deep-rooted warmth, having no ice or chill to them. He did not know if Laurent would be all right with him referring to him by first name with no title so he kept it out of politeness, not wanting to be overly familiar when they didn't know each other well. Behind them, the servants made haste in bringing Laurent's things inside the castle and rushed to care for the horses. The King and Queen beamed and turned, gallantly making their way back inside, content to allow Gansey to take care of his intended. The royal family did nothing simply. Even walking was gallant.

"Please, come inside—you must be tired from the trip. Would you like me to show you to your quarters?" Gansey stepped aside to allow Laurent to enter first. The foyer was an excellent indication of the rest of the castle: high ceilings, tiled floors, artwork and other beautiful, luxurious things on display. Paintings not just of people but of beautiful scenes. A grand staircase. Tawny stone walls. Intrinsically bright, with big windows and paired with lovely red curtains.

"Or would you like a tour of the castle? I would love to show you the grounds."

Laurent had the fleeting, foolish urge to dart back into the carriage and command it to return him to his home. He felt more isolated than ever, far away from everything he had ever known.

The prince, his betrothed, was tall and handsome, with a charming smile and what seemed to be genuine friendliness. Laurent appreciated that, and he was pleasantly surprised by the prince's gallantry toward him. His expression didn't flicker: the diplomatic masks Laurent had in place were took thick to allow for any expression but polite reserve.

Laurent's bright, intelligent eyes took in everything, and fount no fault. The servants handled his baggage with care and his horses were offered expert attention. So this was his fate. It seemed pleasant enough, as such things went. Laurent did not expect to be ill-treated in this place.

"My quarters, please," Laurent said. His eyes lingered on the palace, avoiding any opportunity to return to looking at his betrothed. "I'm certain I'll be far more appreciative of a tour once I've had the opportunity to freshen up." His words might have contained the lightest hint of self-deprecating humor to gentle the refusal of his betrothed's invitation.

It was an understandable rebuff, though Gansey couldn't help but notice that Laurent seemed to find it difficult to look at him. He quickly glanced down to make sure there wasn't anything offensive to look at—an unnoticed stain (he did spend a lot of time wandering around the woods in his 'good' clothes when he shouldn't) or an unpaired button (he wasn't the sort to make the servants dress him, so hey, he could have missed one)—but everything seemed to be in order.

"Very well," he responded just as genially as he had before. "Then please, follow me. Your quarters are to the right. You can always find them by following the white stones." He didn't climb the magnificent stairs; rather, he hooked an immediate right to where there was a wooden door. "Back when this castle was first being constructed some 250 years ago, some of the workers broke several of the original stones. Playing a very intense game of toss, I believe." He opened the door for Laurent, revealing a long hallway, lined with portraits of various hill scenes and setting suns.

He pointed up to the high ceiling. Amidst the tawny stone was a line of pure white brick, all carefully placed in a straight line in the row closest to the wall, as though it were intended trim.

"So they tried to make it look part of the decor. It's only in this wing, and almost all the halls leading this way have a few scattered white bricks in the ceiling."

He followed along the hallway. There were a few other doors which he passed and did not give any attention. "Just in case you happen to find yourself lost. The castle has an... interesting layout." Of which he knew the history, but he didn't want to bore his new fiance with his excitement about the history of... almost everything. He turned a left, and then another right, before stopping in front of another sleek wooden door.

"These are your quarters." Inside, though Gansey did not open the door (as far as he was concerned, it was already Laurent's space and not to be intruded upon) was an outer chamber with a table, bookshelves, a sitting area, and a grand window that gave an excellent view of the garden. The inner room was the bedroom with the king sized bed and other various luxuries.

Gansey paused, teasing his thumb against his lip out of old habit as he considered what to say next.

"Dinner's in a little over an hour. Would you like me to escort you...?" It wasn't difficult to find one's own way there with all the servants milling about, of course, which might be Laurent's preference.

Laurent would have been interested in the history, but he didn't know to ask, and he didn't feel conversational. Walking alongside the prince in silence, Laurent's gaze returned increasingly to him, lingering on the way the prince's thumb skimmed over his lip as he thought.

"Yes," he decided, not wanting to offend his fiance, and certainly not wanting to find himself lost when he attempted to search for the dining hall. "Thank you."

Laurent's usually opinionated tongue was silent. He didn't dare allow himself his usual biting scorn, and he didn't know what else to say. There was nothing he wanted to coax from the prince. The only goals Laurent had were to secure his place and begin developing a network of influence, but for the time being he only felt overwhelmed and alone. The only people in the world who loved him were far away, and Laurent had been in an ill temper when he left. More than anything, Laurent wanted the opportunity to run home and apologize.

His pleasant, bookish life felt like it ought to still be waiting for him. This was just a strange dream.

Reaching for the knob, Laurent opened it. "I look forward to dinner," he said, with bland courtesy, and then stepped inside his room.

It was luxurious, with an excellent view. Laurent wondered how close he was to his betrothed's chambers. He was grateful that, for now, he had been afforded his own rooms.

His trunks were unpacked, and a bath had been drawn. Servants lingered, preparing his rooms and organizing his clothing. "Help me with these laces, please," Laurent asked, since Veretian aristocratic clothing was designed to be nearly impossible to manage without assistance, with complicated laces that went up either arm and down his sides. It left Laurent accustomed to having servants all around him, and to accepting assistance with his clothing. If he didn't, it would take him nearly an hour to dress.

It was all very... strained. Another understandable thing; not that he really knew this Laurent's circumstances. They were virtual strangers. It would have behooved his mother to arrange a meeting once or twice between them before launching straight into a royal proposal.

But he understood, again, why his mother had not. The Ganseys did not do confrontation. There was no arguing. Rather than give him the chance at all to create some unpleasantness about the situation she had simply not told him until it was too late; Gansey was too considerate to make a fuss when his fiance was here. In her eyes, the problem was solved. Gansey, however, would continue to be privately salty, as he always was when his family avoided conflict and manipulated him into their brand of passiveness.

Regardless, he wanted to at least be friends with the prince. Which was why he smiled and responded that he was also looking forward to it before leaving the other man to his privacy.

While the servants saw to Laurent's needs, assisting him with his dressing as he asked, Gansey milled about the library while he waited. There was nothing else he needed to do until picking Laurent up and bringing him to dinner. Books were easily the best way to make him feel better; he paged through a few leatherbound books and read up on some history, chewing his lip as he did. Yet not even the history of kings could distract him from the matter at hand. He ended up reading the same page four times over before giving up.

By nature, Gansey was a worrier, best as he tried to hide it. Which was why he was exactly on time, outside Laurent's door again one hour later, right down to the second.

He knocked, gently, letting Laurent know that he was ready to take him to dinner if he was prepared.

It took Laurent all of the hour to prepare. Unlaced from his clothing, he sank into the bath, dismissing the servants as he scrubbed himself. With that, at least, he needed no assistance. Clean and dried, he accepted help from a waiting servant to dress himself in fresh clothing. The same severe blue, with a minimum of white trim and gold laces. The fabric was expensive, and the effect was opulent but unyielding.

He combed his own hair, but added no ornament to his ears or fingers--his ears, noticeably, were pierced.

When there was a knock at his door, Laurent opened it himself. His heart quickened ever so slightly at the sight of his betrothed. Handsome. Male. He wondered whether his brother had accepted the arrangement with the knowledge that it might suit Laurent, or if the offer for him had simply been too good to pass up. As the favored younger brother of a future monarch, Laurent's wedding would secure an unbreakable treaty between their nations, and his beauty and intelligence had made him a valuable prize. Laurent had seen some of the exorbitant offers that had been made for his hand in the past, but he'd utterly refused to wed a woman or anyone twice his age. He wasn't sure whether Richard Campbell Gansey the Third had simply been the first offer that Laurent hadn't been able to refuse outright, or if Auguste had selected it out of affection for his little brother.

"Good evening, Prince Richard," Laurent said, polite but still cool. "Thank you for coming to escort me."

The second time seeing Laurent struck him more than the first. True, he was beautiful—were an author to describe the prince, they would probably choose words like refined and stunning. What he noted more than that, however, were the prince's eyes. Beautiful in color, certainly, but there was a sharpness about them that he found particularly attractive. They made the comments that the man himself did not.

But he was distracted from that when Laurent spoke. Prince Richard. Inwardly, it made him cringe. Outwardly he didn't bat an eyelash.

"There's no need to thank me. It would be a problem if you ended up somewhere in the basement rather than the dining hall, right?" Grinning, he added, "You really don't want to go down there. My mother has a fascination with glass dolls and plates, and she keeps her collection down there. When I was a child, I wandered down there alone one night. I had nightmares for years."

Rubbing his fingers against this chin, briefly, he glanced away as he considered his words for what he was going to ask.

"Mm, actually... if you would not mind," he began, speaking slowly, trying to phrase his strange request in a way that made him seem not completely eccentric (though Laurent would probably find that out that he was sooner or later anyway), "would you call me 'Gansey'? Just Gansey. I know it's odd but... well, I've always been much more comfortable with just that."

Laurent's lips pressed a little more tightly together, curling up at the edges. "Gansey," he repeated, taking the prince's arm even though it hadn't been offered. The slight nervous fidgeting that came with the odd request made it endearing, and Laurent finally relaxed a tiny bit. He might still be opposed to having been sold off to secure an alliance, but perhaps the two of them could manage to be friends. Either way, Laurent's sense of duty demanded that he secure the alliance. They needed to appear to be friends, whatever Laurent's personal feelings.

"I might have to insist upon a tour of the basement," Laurent said, glancing over with a sparkle of mirth in his blue eyes. Naturally playful, Laurent couldn't resist a challenge. "Almost certainly at night."

With his arm hooked through Gansey's, the two of them were very close. Laurent was pleased to find Gansey's arm very solid, and was confident that his own would not disappoint--Laurent drilled himself almost daily in swordplay and athletics.

When Laurent obliged his odd request without even a questioning comment, Gansey beamed, clearly delighted.

Though he had to feign some distress at Laurent's apparent need to discover the creepy mysteries of the basement at night. His expression turned mock-aghast, though it was too playful to be considered anything serious, as he shook his head slowly. Gave the arm (the very nice arm, he could not help but note) a gentle pat with his free hand.

"A request you will regret. My sister's collectibles are even worse. She spent her teenage years fascinated with anything and everything shaped like a horse." Tilting his head, his expression smoothly changed back to pleasant, offering his usual warm smile, "But if you really want to see it, I'll brave my childhood fears."

With that he began to step, leading the way to the dining room. Not that he was in any rush to arrive; this was a good chance to get to know a little about Prince Laurent.

"Do you like to ride? —Horses." To be perfectly clear.

"Very much so," Laurent said, starting to relax more in Gansey's company as they discovered shared interests. "My brother likes to tease that I only ever leave the library if I am going riding. Which, I fear," Laurent pulled a playful grimace, "is more than a little accurate."

Laurent was pleased to find that his intended was as charming as he was handsome. No matter what their personal feelings toward each other might become, Laurent was sure that the two of them would be adored by the kingdom. A pair of handsome, charming young men who would appear to dote on each other. As long as Gansey turned out to be a sensible ruler--and the rumors and reports that Laurent had researched indicated that he was as wise and fair as the rest of his family--the two of them would suit each other nicely.

Right on the heels of his pleasure, Laurent felt a rush of annoyance. His older brother would be entirely insufferable if he turned out to be right and Laurent ended up pleased by his fate. Laurent was perfectly stubborn enough that in that past he had half-starved himself for a week just to prove Auguste wrong when he was being insufferably right.

Gansey was doubly pleased to hear that Laurent enjoyed both riding and spending time in the library. Perhaps learning that his fiance was an incorrigible bookworm when he wasn't off frolicking in the woods would not be as appalling as Gansey had feared; many found Gansey's eccentricities charming when they heard about them, but dealing with them was another matter. He was instantly charmed to learn that Laurent shared some of the same qualities.

"That's fantastic! I'd love to take you out riding tomorrow, then, if you're up for it." The next part he added with a bit of a sparkle in his eye, "And tonight, I'll show you my library. I started having books added and imported when I was ten; before that, it was distressingly bare. No one else here really cares too much about reading. Or history." He lavished over the word as though it were a sacred thing. "So I'm the only one who enjoys it. Which seems a little sad, I think—they deserve more use than that. If you like it, you're welcome to use it whenever you wish."

He couldn't help but to gush. His excitement was obvious, the way his cheeks flushed a bit pink and his eyes brightened. The King and Queen would rather spend their time decorating or playing chess, and Helen had never cared about books so much as gowns and sword-fighting.

"Other than the library, I end up spending most of my time in the garden. We don't keep a gardener, I picked it up as a hobby when I was younger, and ever since then, I've kept it up."

"Surely there must be at least the history of your own country in the library," Laurent said, at once drawn into the conversation. He forgot all his defenses and posturing, too drawn into the topic with their shared horror over a neglected library. "Records and ledgers. Or are those kept separately?"

He was so engaged by the topic that he didn't realize that they were already two steps into the banquet chamber. Then he blushed, surprised and embarrassed to be caught without his usual courteous persona. Tensing slightly with embarrassment, he pressed a little closer to Gansey, lifting his chin with elegant pride.

All eyes turned to them as they entered, the two handsome princes on each other's arm, obviously deeply engaged in conversation. Laurent's heart thudded, feeling trapped again in this new situation, this new role. The court of Vere was a vicious, back-stabbing place, and it had taken Laurent most of his life to know how to navigate it successfully. Now he was being dropped into a new court, and Gansey was the nearest thing he had to a trustworthy ally. His grip tightened on Gansey's arm.

"That's all kept in the archive room on the top floor—"

He hadn't realized they reached the banquet hall, either. In fact, he even realized it after Laurent had; he blinked owlishly, confused as to why Laurent had tensed until he decided to pay some attention to their surroundings. Oh. So they were there already.

Disappointing. He'd been enjoying the conversation.

From the highest table the King and Queen were watching them with obvious amusement while the slight young woman to the right was giving them the most dramatic eyebrow raise Gansey had ever seen. "That's Helen, my sister," he offered helpfully, barely paying any of the other guests any mind.

But they were certainly the center of attention. Gently, he gave Laurent's hand an assuring pat as he lead him toward the table where his father and mother were seated. There were some whispers, curious looks. Others were more obvious in their attentions and blatantly watched them cross the room.

Gansey did not break his stride for anyone. Should Laurent had want to stop he would have. Otherwise? No amount of waving him over would attract him; he raised a hand in greeting and kept moving until they were at their seats. He tugged Laurent's chair out for him so he might sit first. Leaning forward so that only Laurent could hear him, he whispered, "I usually skip this if I can."

Laurent followed his lead with complete trust, which he didn't feel, but he was determined. There was no other option, in his opinion. It was of crucial importance that everyone else see the prince as his unquestioned ally, and that that alliance itself be cemented. If nothing else, he needed Gansey's protection in this foreign court.

He accepted the seat that Gansey offered and gave him a nervous smile. Only once they were both seated did he turn his smile toward the rest of the royal family, greeting them and apologizing for being late. He made polite conversation, letting others guide the topics, and always returning his attention to Gansey as soon as he could. "I'd like to see the archive. And the library. And the gardens--do you really have no gardening staff? Surely the castle gardens are too grand for one man to handle alone."

For the most part, the court was gossip. The royal family was passive in their approach to manipulation and it reflected in their lords and ladies; everyone was astoundingly polite yet sharp on who was wearing emeralds instead of diamonds, and how a lack of a touch between married couples most certainly meant that there were marital issues abound.

While Gansey and Laurent were certainly a topic they were, almost to Gansey's offense if he cared to care, not the most hot button tonight. While he'd ended up engaged to a lovely prince from another Kingdom, his (twice removed) cousin Wexler had married a woman 57 years his senior just two weeks ago. They were there tonight, draped across each other at the other end of the room. Wexler was barely 20 so Gansey guessed his new wife had to be at least in her mid-70s.

Just as well. That meant that he could pay attention to Laurent and not field off questions from various lords and ladies.

"Well... maybe I exaggerated a little," he admitted with a sheepish smile. "The servants take care of things like the grass and preening the bushes on the grounds. Make sure everything's watered every day. I take care of the flowers. The heart of the garden isn't very big but that's where most of it blooms. Ah, but while it's not large, it's very beautiful. And private. There's a swing, too—my father had it built into the tree when he planned on proposing to my mother."

"I'd like very much to see that," Laurent said. He leaned in as he ate, wanting it to seem to everyone present as though he was flirting. It wasn't hard to do. Gansey had successfully secured Laurent's interest, and Laurent felt safer around him than with anyone else in the realm. It was also the safest thing he could do. Even if this court had been as cutthroat as that of Vere, no one would be able to fault him for flirting with his own fiance. He couldn't be thought to be currying favor or trying to catch the prince's interest, since he clearly already had secured the prince's hand in marriage.

It was a pleasant relief to realize that the court here was not so sharply barbed as Vere. Though gossip abounded, Laurent heard no crushing insinuations or veiled insults. He didn't see any of the corruption that flourished at the heart of Vere, despite the best efforts of Laurent's family to stem it.

They were accumulating quite the to-do list, and Laurent happily chatted about all of it with his new betrothed. The gardens, the horses, the library and archives, the promised tour of the castle, and Laurent would further want a tour of the city and nearby countryside.

"I think our plans for 'tomorrow' may take up about two weeks," Laurent said, laughing. He'd relaxed considerably over the course of dinner, almost forgetting that there was anyone in the room but his charming fiance.

No doubt it would be more stressful for them if Wexler hadn't decided to try to assure himself some wealth by marrying a woman who had outlived two other husbands. In a way he was grateful for his cousin's greed; this way, their night was actually rather pleasant, mostly chatting between the two of them with occasional breaks when someone decided to wish them some congratulations.

It was tamer than Vere likely due to everyone's dislike of unpleasantness. It was all very civil; the only time when things turned sour when was someone was decidedly uncivil. To wit they were ostracized through passive ignoring. Gansey had once seen his mother look straight through a woman as though she wasn't even there in the most pleasant manner.

So far, Laurent was doing fine. All it took to succeed was charm and the ability to look like you cared deeply about what bland nonsense someone was monologuing at you.

And Gansey was pleased to note that had they met under different circumstances, he and Laurent would probably have been fast friends through their similar interests. He couldn't help but wonder if his mother had known this or if it was happy circumstance paired with her desire for stronger support for their small kingdom.

"You're right," he admitted with a short laugh when he considered the amount of time each thing might take. "And I hadn't even mentioned showing you the central town yet. There's an excellent old bookshop there, and the food from the street carts is really quite good." He wasn't anywhere above eating the same foods the common people did; in truth, he preferred it to these elaborate grand suppers.

He took a sip of water, not in the mood for wine. He wasn't a heavy drinker in the slightest.

"I hope you don't mind my eagerness. I've been told I'm too much sometimes. Actually, I've been called an odd duck. Mostly by Helen."

Laurent also drank water, preferring to avoid alcohol when he politely could, and he was glad that Gansey gave him that opportunity. "Quite on the contrary, I like your eagerness very much. In Vere it is fashionable not to seem that one cares too much about things, and I find it maddening."

Pushing his plate aside, satisfied, Laurent leaned a little closer. He wanted to escape from the clamor of court, but didn't dare suggest it until Gansey did, for fear of giving some offense. "My brother calls me a mouse, for my shyness, in complete ignorance of what the rest of the capitol calls me."

Laurent didn't offer the information of what that particular sobriquet was: it didn't make for polite conversation.

His fingers twitched restlessly, though his posture remained relaxed, belying his nerves. "We shall merely have to decide what to visit first."

A mouse. What a cute image. He tilted his head as he considered it. It was not something he could really agree or disagree with because he had only just met Prince Laurent... but it seemed an affectionate nickname for a sibling. It felt sweeter than being called a weird duck, at any rate. As for what the rest of the capitol called him, Gansey could only assume it was not as flattering since Laurent did not offer to elaborate, and Gansey was too polite to ask.

"We will," he agreed before turning his head to give his mother and father a quick look. They were engaged in deep, drunken conversation with some other lords, so when he turned back, he gave Laurent the thumbs up. Along with a rather boyish grin.

"They're drunk enough now to not notice that we're missing," he explained, pushing himself up and this time offering his arm to Laurent rather than standing there like a dolt again.

"As for deciding where we visit—I think we can accomplish at least one thing tonight. What would you like to see first? What stands at the top of your list?" He had tossed around his own ideas earlier but was more interested in showing Laurent what he actually wanted to see.

Laurent immediately took Gansey's arm, getting to his feet and stepping close to his side. He felt safe at Gansey's side, glad to be leaving the dining hall.

"The library," he requested at once, knowing perfectly well that he would want to see the library even if Gansey hadn't offered. Tugging at his betrothed's arm, Laurent stayed close as he could as they left the hall, taking a deep breath once they were in the relative quiet of the hallway.

"I know that I've only been here a few hours," Laurent murmured, feeling oddly trusting and relaxed around Gansey, more than he was used to being around anyone but his brother, "but your court is far less barbed and hostile than mine."

The library was an excellent choice. He nodded, sparing the King and Queen one last glance before they made their escape, leading Laurent down the hallway and to the stairs. Not the grand stairs; these were a more moderate set.

"Is it?" He glanced at the other man curiously. In truth, he hadn't spent much of his time in any other court but his own, and even that was as little as he could possibly manage. It was a duty he knew he would one day have to take on. For now, however, he would enjoy his time. The idea that other courts were even more stifling was interesting.

"Will you tell me about it? Where you're from?"

There were some things he knew from books and what he learned over the political table. But Gansey never had the pleasure of actually going, unlike his mother. No doubt it would help him understand his betrothed as well.

The library was on the third floor of the castle, and Gansey led the way up the stairs.

"Vere is beautiful," Laurent said, not letting go of Gansey's arm even once they were free of the court. "Verdant and prosperous. There remains a rigid social heirarchy, but, at least, no one goes hungry in Vere. It's small, and we work hard to maintain a balance of alliances with neighboring countries, since Vere's wealth is greater than our military strength. The court is indulgent and cruel, made up of a bloated upper class that is all too eager to exploit its power, and thus my family struggles to enact better social reforms, because the nobility blocks such efforts at every turn."

Laurent hesitated as he got past the broad descriptions of Vere, having mostly avoided describing the court and explaining his earlier comments. "I don't doubt that you've heard that Vere is ... corrupt. And, ah... sexually deviant."

His cheeks were bright red, though Laurent kept his chin up and his eyes straight ahead, not glancing over at Gansey. He'd heard the things that visitors had to say about some of the favored entertainments of the Veretian court.

Laurent of Vere ; Captive Prince ; M/M

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