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 response confused him a little. Had he said something wrong? He considered his phrasing again as Laurent went quiet; he was often told that he put his foot in his mouth, or didn't consider what he was saying enough. Something he often promised himself he would improve upon. There were downsides to the way he was sheltered by the King and Queen, no doubt.

He hoped the library would help cheer Prince Laurent up again. He followed, standing back as he allowed to Laurent to take it in for himself.

It was obvious that a great deal of care had been placed into the creation of this library. There were walls of books with spines of all different colors, some even in different languages. In the very middle of the room, against the wall, a fireplace stood out with two plush chairs seated in front of it. Perfect for reading. Across the way was a grand window, big enough to let in a lot of light during the day.

A short set of stairs led up to a loft beside the window, filled with even more books and scrolls. There were tables where one could work, one back table in particular covered in books with marked pages or left open. Toward the other corner, more in shadow, there was a table with a miniature version of the Kingdom (the Kingdom of Ravens, as it was called) reconstructed entirely out of paper, meticulously folded and built by someone.

It wasn't a cold place. Perhaps one of the warmest, even, from the worn chairs and rugs to the loved wooden tables.

Laurent softened, bit by bit, as he explored the library. There was plenty to explore, and Laurent was fascinated by all of it. His icy exterior melted away as he skimmed his fingers over the books, especially as he reached the upstairs table that was covered with open books.

Picking up one of the books, Laurent leafed through it, inspecting the marked pages and considering what it told him about the book's reader, which he knew to be Gansey. Book still in hand as he wandered, Laurent hugged it idly to his chest as he bent over to consider the tiny paper reconstruction of the kingdom. He didn't touch, being far too careful and respectful for that.

His defenses were still there, but they'd diminished down to being merely aloof and guarded. "Is this yours?"

He had marked off various things: the history of kings across the land and how they succeeded or failed, the lore of various kingdoms, moments of historical importance, several geographical spots he would like to visit. He even had his own notes scribbled in perfect slanted ink. Lead with wisdom and kindness. Do not fall to violence. Be fair. Strive to understand.

While Laurent explored he tossed a few logs into the fireplace and sparked a flame. It was something he was so used to doing, not a thing he bothered to rely on the servants for. Why have others do what he could learn to do himself? He had always thought in such a way.

He looked up when Laurent spoke, brushing a few ashes off his pants (or so he thought, they merely smudged) as he stepped closer.

"Ah, that. It is! Though it's not finished," he admitted, walking around the other side of the table to point out a few spots, "There's a new clinic over here that I need to add. And... yes, here, they expanded this area, so I need to reflect that. Some other odds and ends. Do you like it?"

The notes in the margins were maddening to Laurent's fastidious nature, but the content of them more than made up for that. Gansey's desire to be a good monarch was deeply endearing, and Laurent's heart clenched, attracted to his fiancé and worrying that he was too stained and corrupted for someone as pure as Gansey.

He smiled slightly as Gansey stepped close, keeping his eyes on the miniature kingdom. Gansey brought out a side of Laurent that he hadn't previously known existed, because Laurent had never in his life had a true friend, particularly not one who so enthusiastically shared his interests. As much as he was liked by many of his servants and his personal guard, the power differential between them prevented any kind of equal friendship. Nobles only ever wanted Laurent as a path to power, and foreign dignitaries had looked upon him as a desirable possession. Gansey's cheerful friendship was entirely new, and Laurent was completely enraptured by it.

"Sounds as though it shall never be finished," Laurent teased, "if you keep up with all the modifications in the kingdom."

Studying the model kingdom for a few moments more, Laurent stepped back and lifted his eyes to consider the prince. "Recommend me a book," he said, wanting to know what Gansey would choose. "Just one." Laurent's lips quirked and his eye sparkled with a hint of playful challenge, knowing how maddening it would be if anyone asked him to choose just one book.

He was superbly pleased to see Laurent in an amiable mood again. Mentally, he chided himself for not being more careful with his words, made yet another promise to watch his tongue. He liked the Laurent he saw when he wasn't icing himself off—a young man who shared his interests, was clever, and charming. Frankly, he was confused as to why his mother hadn't introduced him long ago. No doubt she had known they would make fast friends, and she had travelled to Vere for various political reasons in the past. But he had no mind to consider his mother's oddities at the moment.

Laurent's teasing earned a chuckle as Gansey shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck, "You're right, I think. Being a perfectionist is difficult. Luckily, I'll always have time to work on it." He didn't explain what he meant by that—he wouldn't anyway if Laurent had not just posed an impossible question. But he had. Recommend a book? Recommend a book? As in, singular? One?

For a moment, Gansey looked truly appalled. As though he were a lady of the court and Laurent had just suggested that his shoes did not completely match his dress.

However, he recognized a challenge when he saw one. There was a magnificent sparkle in those lovely eyes. Magnificent, and a touch mischievous. "You understand how difficult this task you have given me is, yes?" he asked, eyebrow quirking as his own mouth quirked with a smile. "Please, go easy on me. At least choose a genre."

"I won't," Laurent said, his own smile widening in response. Teasing Gansey was going to be his new favorite pastime, especially when his betrothed was even more handsome when he was smiling. "Any book in the library, and I promise that I'll read it, whatever you choose. No matter the topic or genre."

Laurent loved games and challenges, and he was perfectly confident now that the two of them would be recommending each other hundreds of books in the years to come. His heart gave an eager little thud, unable to look away from Gansey's sparkling hazel eyes.

He was fascinated, and he knew how to recognize an infatuation, even though this feeling was different than any crush he'd had before. He didn't care anymore that he'd been sold into this, that he had no choice and that he was hundreds of miles from home. That didn't matter, as long as he could be near Gansey.

If there was any doubt about how brilliant Laurent looked with a smile, it would have vanished upon seeing it widen. It suited the prince much better than the detached politeness. Gansey would not mind being the victim of Laurent's teasing if it always afforded him such a pleasant reward.

Gansey was equally infatuated, even if he was still annoyed with his mother for pulling her typical manipulation. How could he not be infatuated with someone who loved books, and challenged him so?

"You'll have to give me time to consider," he answered while falling into his habit of rubbing his thumb against his lower lip. "While it helps that you narrowed it down to the library, as you can see, it's still quite expansive." The first book recommendation was obviously incredibly important. Especially when it was fully his choice. He could not choose something merely entertaining, nor could he choose something solely educational. It needed to be a mix of both.

"In the meanwhile, would you like to play a game?"

"Yes," Laurent said, still holding Gansey's gaze. It didn't even matter what game, since he didn't imagine that it would be anything cruel or unpleasant. He wanted to remain near Gansey, and he was extremely competitive. Any game was an irresistible temptation, and Laurent wanted very much to know what Gansey would suggest.

His blue eyes flicked down to watch how Gansey rubbed at his lip, and Laurent unconsciously licked his own, only realizing a moment later what he'd done and glancing away, cheeks lightly flushed.

He realized he had no idea if Gansey even had an interest in men, or if this was purely a political arrangement. It would be better not to ask, he decided, particularly not while they were still getting to know each other.

The book he'd picked up earlier, with Gansey's notes in it, was still hugged to his chest with one arm. Laurent wasn't letting it go.

"What game?"

If Gansey noticed how Laurent had licked his lip he didn't show it. Possibly because half of his mind was still on trying to decide what book to suggest to Laurent. He didn't want his fiancé to think he had poor literary taste. It was a matter of pride to him.

He did notice, however, how Laurent had claimed one of the books. Which was fine with him—in fact, it was a rather enchanting image. A handsome youth with a book held to his chest. An image any bibliophile could appreciate.

"We have chess," he said, gesturing toward the chairs and the fireplace where a nice, warm fire was now going in full. There was a small table with the game set up on it already.

"Though," he continued, glancing from the fireplace back to Lauren, "I would like to get to know you better. Perhaps a question game?" Not exactly competitive but certainly something to help them become better acquainted.

"We each are allowed to ask any five, or ten if you'd like a longer game, questions of the other we want. Each person is allowed one pass, should there be something they don't want to disclose." Though truthfully, if he asked something Laurent would not want to answer, he would hardly push the issue. Not that he was planning on asking anything cruel. Such a thing didn't even cross his mind.

"Whatever you prefer."

"I do very much like chess," Laurent said, watching Gansey closely and considering the options before he bothered to move. The challenge pleased him, especially after he'd avoided answering some of Gansey's questions earlier. It was a risky game, with the potential to uncover secrets that none of them were yet ready to face, and that made it all the more interesting.

"Five, then," he agreed, turning away from Gansey and walking over to the table. Leaning over the back of one of the chairs instead of bothering to sit, he moved one of the white pawns forward.

The smile had disappeared again, replaced with sharp interest. His safeguards had gone back up in anticipation of whatever questions Gansey might choose, but Laurent was prepared to give Gansey what he'd asked for. Honesty, even if the answers hurt.

"You ask first."

He followed Laurent to where the chess set sat waiting. It was a Gansey family favorite and he'd been playing from a small age; he hoped Laurent did not expect an easy game. His tactics involved a lot of trickery, misleading, and misdirection.

While Laurent stood, Gansey sat, allowing the other man to have the point of leverage. His mother always said that the higher person had higher ground. It was why she always made sure to choose the highest point when addressing the public or even a few guests. He thought, perhaps, it might make Laurent more comfortable. Another habit, overthinking even the smallest of things.

So he preferred white. Very well. Black suited Gansey perfectly fine. He mirrored the action, moving one of his own pawns.

"Very well." He could easily launch into something personal and heavy. But he did not want to. Rather, he decided to toss something completely odd, "If you were to keep a pet, what animal would you choose? Assuming you could choose any you wanted regardless of what was acceptable."

Laurent's gaze flicked up briefly, eyes wide with surprise at the innocent question, and then he returned his attention to the board, guarded as ever. He played chess well, showing what seemed to be mostly textbook strategy in the relatively harmless ground of the early game, but his mind took careful note of the strategies that Gansey displayed. Laurent had several favorite traps and strategems, and Gansey would be unfamiliar with his devious tactics, so Laurent could play up the illusion of playing a relatively straightfoward game while trying to walk him into a subtle trap of Laurent's creation.

"A large cat, I suppose," Laurent said, continuing to keep his eyes on the game. "Lazy, beautiful, powerful. With such an animal at my side, I would hope, lecherous courtiers might be a little more circumspect about how they treat me. Or my own horse back again."

He set down a piece a little too sharply, and the waves of bitter pain in his tone were almost palpable. "To spare you that particular question: she was poisoned."

Tightening his jaw, Laurent took a seat in the chair. He sprawled, with one knee bent and the other stretched out, looking very much like the cat he had described: indolent and dangerous. His eyes stayed on the board, not wanting to see Gansey's reaction, and seized a piece--a little too ruthless, and a very risky choice for the efficacy of the trap he had intended to set, but Laurent's strategy very quickly became impaired when his pride was hurt or his temper was pricked.

He turned the captured piece over between his fingers as he considered a question of his own. His instinct was to lash out and ask some barbed question, but he had five questions remaining and Laurent, even with his hackles up, was too subtle a person to reach straight for the daggers. "If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would you go?"

Outwardly, he did not have much of a reaction. He was too schooled for that. When he did not want to react, he would not. Being passive was a talent of all the royal family, much as it frustrated Gansey when his played it on him.

While he was fairly pure and goodhearted, he knew well enough to understand why someone might poison a horse. Such tactics were effective and cruel. Many nobles and kings of the past had used them; he'd studied such things, read about them, and knew strongly that they were things he would never resort to. But not everyone shared his views.

The only reaction he really afforded was the crease in his brow. It became more prominent. But he did not look up from the board or give Laurent a pitying look. Yes, it was a terrible thing, but he did not think his pity would help.

A cat, however. That he could see. There was a feline sort of quality about his intended. It amused him a bit, given that he'd always considered himself more of a dog person. Not that he would turn down holding a cat in his lap while he read a book. It seemed a pleasant thing.

He did glance up, briefly, when Laurent asked his question. The loss of his captured piece didn't seem to perturb him whatsoever. He merely swiftly moved his horse out its base and moved it elsewhere. Even his plays were seemingly passive.

"Ah. Everywhere, truthfully. I love to travel. Not in a coach or with guards though. Perhaps with only one or two other people, on horseback, seeing the wilds and forests up close. I've always been fond of such things. Of discovering. Guards always weigh me down."

Not that he didn't understand their purpose. In some ways, he envied the common folk; they could simply live. Enjoy things like strolling through a thick wood or dancing at town celebrations. Not that he didn't want to be a king; he was meant to be, and felt that in his bones.

"What is your favorite flower?"

"There are Veretian flowers called moondrops," Laurent answered, returning to his more circumspect plays, suspecting that Gansey might have some traps of his own as the two of them passively played circles around each other, entangling the nets of their pieces without taking any decisive action quite yet. Laurent took his time, intrigued by the deepening strategy of the game almost as much as he was intrigued by their conversation. "They grow in the shady meadows of Vere, particularly among the old ruins that pepper the countryside, and open their blossoms only at night."

Which was when Laurent preferred to slip his own guards and go discovering, but he didn't mention that quite yet. This game was a challenge and a duel, and Laurent felt very sharp-edged. "Are you a virgin?" he asked, tone mild, just as he moved a piece forward to spring one of his traps. He expected Gansey to slip the trap easily, but it ought to either drive him into a deeper trap, or cost him several key pieces. Laurent had timed the question to unsettle him at a moment of key strategy.

Gansey took his time as well. Quite patiently placing pieces, thoughtfully, considering each action he took and what the outcome might be. The royal family was so fond of chess because they believed it reflected their reality well. They were in control, had to guide their people, and had to live with the consequences of their incorrect judgments.

The flowers sounded lovely. Not a thing he had in the garden at the moment, but he made a mental note to arrange fetching some seeds. Hopefully it would not be terribly difficult. That way, he could bring at least a little piece of Laurent's home to the Raven Kingdom. Old ruins struck him as very interesting as well. Not enough to waste a question on, no, but he would remember to ask about them later.

Despite the question, Gansey isn't unsettled. His eyebrows do raise a bit and he resists the urge to laugh. What a clever man. But as he looked at the board, he knew that their traps would end up tangled together. He sacrificed a pawn, leading into the simple trap so that he might sweep his white bishop across the board, never having moved it or suggested he was thinking of it before, to snap up a piece of his own.

"No," he replied, also mildly, rolling the stolen piece in his fingers. He could elaborate but decides to be purposefully short, offering Laurent a small smile.

"Have you ever been in love?"

Laurent was impressed as Gansey's move showed a glimpse of his plots and traps, as neatly and skilfully laid as Laurent's. Raising his brows, Laurent glanced up briefly, lips curving with pleasure at facing the complex challenge of Gansey's game.

He made no comment about the response, eyes returning to the board and smile fading back into the expression of sharp calculation he had worn over the course of the game.

"No," he answered, just as simply.

He trusted that Gansey would know enough about Laurent's culture to know of their horror of bastard children. Homosexual relations were so encouraged as to be the norm in all levels of society. Heterosexual relationships were allowed only within the strictures of marriage. Dalliances were expected, but they were strictly homosexual. For a married person of either gender to break their marriage vows with a member of the opposite sex would reap the most severe social and economic punishments. It could be assumed that any sexual experience Laurent might have would have been homosexual, or else that he would have risked extreme social stigma and the loss of his title: royal bastards could lead to civil war, and Vere would tolerate no risk of that from its royal family.

"What's your taste in sexual partners?" Laurent asked, not planning on lowering the stakes in their game. Doing so, in his opinion, would be defeat.

Indeed, bastard children were a problem. In his own kingdom, with laws less strict on the matter, it was something of a problem. Mostly because of inheritance rather than titles. Not that breaking marriage vows wasn't just as bad in his kingdom. More for religious and spiritual reasons, not to mention the gossip it always brought when a new bastard showed up at a doorstop. Which was mostly true of lords and ladies—the king siring a bastard would be a nightmare. As, he knew from books, history proved.

Laurent assumed correctly. He knew enough to piece together, figure out, what was probably the case.

Gansey studied the board as well, not willing to weaken his game just because he was interested in the other man. The new question he posed was a bit more difficult for him to answer. He was quiet for a long moment, threading his fingers together as he looked for what might be traps left by his opponent. Studying his game. Laurent, to Gansey's delight, was also quite good.

"I don't have a strong leaning one way or the other," he finally said, speaking slowly, as though trying to find the best way to say what he felt.

"I think what is important, for me, is..."

He paused again, feeling a little foolish, but it wasn't a question he was unwilling to answer. "Romantic feelings," he finally finished, rubbing his thumb against his lip. "Otherwise, I find it difficult. I'm sure that seems—laughable." He leaned back in the chair, "Not that I've been in love before either. For that, it could happily go either way." That ended up being more verbose than he intended; it was not as simple as finding someone physically attractive, for him.

What did he have, one more question left? Two?

"What do you think of me?"

Edited 2016-07-15 19:00 (UTC)

Laurent was startled by the question, blinking wide-eyed at him as he processed it. He hadn't expected such a question, and would never have thought of something so simple and guileless. All of the questions that had crossed his mind to ask--or that he'd expected Gansey might ask--were tactical and sharp, with a hint of ruthlessness, simply because that's how a Veretian would have played the game. Laurent was playing to win, and had never considered an alternate approach.

Cheeks flushing again, obvious against his pale skin, Laurent glanced away. It was an incredibly difficult question to answer honestly, especially when he wasn't yet certain of his feelings toward Gansey.

"I think you're intelligent," Laurent said, eyes on the game in front of him. "You clearly have a mind for tactics," he gestured briefly to the board between them, "though I have yet to see how well you translate the skill to diplomacy and military defense."

He made his move, eyes still on the board as he turned the newly captured piece between his fingers. "You're driven to improve yourself, and to be the best king that your circumstances allow." Without glancing over, Laurent tapped his knuckle against the book with Gansey's notes which he'd commandeered and set on the edge of the table while they played. "You're determined to be kind and friendly to me, even when I'm being difficult, and you're charismatic enough that I genuinely cannot tell how much of your demeanor is diplomacy, how much is earnest, and how much is naiveté."

His tone was honest but with a slightly scathing edge, and he suspected that the truth was a mixture of all three. It wasn't necessarily a criticism. Laurent realized that it made them all the more well-suited. Laurent tended toward distrust and bitterness. If they faced problems together, Laurent wouldn't allow anyone to take advantage of Gansey's good nature, and Gansey wouldn't allow Laurent's temper and bitterness to damage alliances and prospects.

"I think being around you is going to teach me to be jealous," Laurent said, not explaining what he expected to be jealous about.

Perhaps it was the naiveté that made him wonder just what about him would teach Laurent to be jealous. Regardless, the answer was excellent. Well thought and diplomatic. Honest. Gansey closed his eyes for a moment and brushed the fingertips of one hand over the knuckles of the other.

"Thank you for your honesty," he said, opening his eyes again to look straight at Laurent rather than the game in front of them. True, their word game was about honesty, but that did not mean one couldn't find a different way to spin it. He could have pulled back and complimented his looks; often that's what people did when he asked for their opinion on them. It was as though that was all they saw sometimes. The political, royal smile and his fine features.

It was also an answer that told him a great deal about its giver.

How he had been right about Laurent's eyes being sharp, for one. His honesty about being difficult himself. Even the edge to his tone was honest. Not necessarily bad but it was wholly rare for anyone to take any sort of tone with him but far too pleasant. His mother would probably be shocked if she knew his best friends were the two boys that spoke the most harshly to him. Laurent would probably fit in with them nicely.

Gansey moved another piece, stealing one of Laurent's pawns and moving another trap into place. One aimed to take out his Queen, hopefully. "I hope you don't think this too bold... but I'm pleased to hear that your first impression isn't that I'm terribly foolish." Maybe he was foolish, heart fluttering like a little bird in his chest; he had noticed the way Laurent had flushed and glanced away before. He smiled, the crinkle forming under his eye again.

"Do you have another question for me?"

Laurent didn't think he was foolish in the least. Naive, perhaps, as he'd said, which tied into Laurent's ongoing fear that he would be a corrupting influence on Gansey's unsullied good nature. Nothing else about Gansey struck Laurent as foolish, or, if his traits were foolish, such as his reckless tendency to roam off on adventures without any sensible entourage, it was a foolishness that they shared.

"Shall we raise the stakes?" Laurent asked, blue eyes dark with challenge. Gansey only had one question left, but Laurent didn't quite feel finished with the game. "No limit to the number of questions, but the first person to pass loses."

It would put Laurent at a disadvantage: there were plenty of question he would refuse to answer, if Gansey could find them. Meanwhile, he expected that wholesome, good-natured Gansey had very few true secrets, which meant that Laurent would have to maneuver him into a question that Gansey couldn't or wouldn't answer for fear of giving insult. Easy if Laurent were to dip into the vulgarity that he'd learned around the Veretian barracks. Considerably more difficult if he restrained himself to princely decorum, which made it an interesting challenge.

More interesting, he wanted to see if Gansey's kindness or competitiveness would win out. Unless Gansey lucked onto a sore spot, he'd have to ask riskier questions and chance pricking Laurent's obviously sensitive pride.

The chess game delighted him, but it was the risk and challenge of their questions game that really had Laurent's interest.

"Allowing that neither of us shall be penalized for passing on an answer which would betray anyone else's secrets or honor," he added. This was their game, and Laurent--however corrupt and selfish he considered himself to be--would not allow anyone else to be at risk.

He didn't add any stipulations about honesty. Laurent didn't even consider the possibility that either of them might cheat, even though it would be incredibly easy to do so.

No, there was no need to add any stipulations about honesty. Gansey trusted Laurent would not cheat, somehow, and it seemed that the other man felt the same. Which made the game all the riskier. Honesty could be very dangerous. Despite how pure he seemed, there were plenty of things he found it very difficult to talk about. Most of which he would change the topic on normally, if he was able. And he was always able.

But this was his fiance. Much as he was thinking of Laurent as a friend, when his mind drifted toward how they were to be wed, he could feel the back of his neck heat up just ever so slightly. This was the person who would know him the best, be by his side for the longest, assuming the marriage was passed by both their families and nothing went awry before the set date. Such intimacy, in Gansey's opinion, was important between them.

"All right," he agreed, intrigued by Laurent's desire to switch things up. "I agree on that allowance, too. The secrets must be ours to share. No need to drag others into this." Fair enough. Besides, he had no interest in anyone else's secrets, and would never want to compromise someone's honor. Laurent was the only one he was interested in.

The fire crackled beside them. The hour was growing late, but Gansey hardly noticed, or cared. The game was much too entertaining and Laurent much too compelling. This was a game that the rest of Gansey's family would never want to play. He loved that Laurent did. And he was a little bit in love with the competitive sparkle on the other man's eye. It was so refreshing. Any one else of their court would have allowed him to win the chess game and word game both ages ago for fear of creating any unpleasantness.

"I say we apply the new rules immediately." Crossing his legs, he took a break from studying the board to relax back while he watched Laurent. Chess was a slow game anyway; there was no need to rush through it.

"Go ahead. Ask." It was still Laurent's turn; asking if he wanted to raise the stakes did not count as a question.

Laurent had never felt so engaged with another person. Thrills went down his spine when Gansey agreed to his terms. Laurent guarded his privacy and his secrets fiercely, but for Gansey he'd given an open invitation for him to push the boundaries.

How could he resist, when they matched each other, play for play, coming up with new ways to raise the stakes and thrilling at the challenge? Gansey was his, now, and Laurent was no longer playing the part of the willing fiance merely out of duty. He was hopelessly entranced.

"What's the worst thing you've ever done?" Laurent asked, ready with the question. It had been on the tip of his tongue before, when he'd thought, instead, of raising the stakes.

He didn't expect that Gansey's answer would be able to give him any significant shock. Laurent felt confident that whatever Gansey considered 'worst' would barely qualify as a hiccup in Veretian court.

"Oh ho."

Gansey clicked his tongue. Laurent was playing to win. Yes, decidedly refreshing, when most of the royal court in the Raven Kingdom did not enjoy playing games at all because they found them too stressful.

He paused to give the question fair consideration. There was something he thought of instantly that probably qualified but he had to make sure he hadn't done something worse before. No... when it came to court, when he even attended, he was much too polished to offend. Otherwise he spent most of his time with his books or searching for interesting things on the outskirts of the land. Altogether too trained to make some sort of faux pas on a courtly level.

"The worst... well. I hope it doesn't make you think less of me." He's not proud of it. Even so, he doesn't regret it either. "You see, I have a friend—his name is Ronan. He's a hothead. The sort of person that someone might cut themselves on. His... father was murdered several years ago, and he's been struggling with it ever since." He felt it necessary to give a little it of context. Some things simply needed it.

"He managed to get into some serious trouble with one of the lords. I won't disclose what he did, it's better left unsaid, but regardless, the consequences would have been ... great." He rubbed his hand over his mouth, "I say would have because I bribed the lord into forgetting about it. 30,000 sovereigns and far more flattery than he deserved. It was my own money but it wasn't something I should have done and I know it. A future king shouldn't help exempt anyone from the law. My parents don't know I did that. If they found out, they would be furious."

He sighed, pushing his back into the chair. "I don't regret it."

After a moment he lifted his eyebrows at Laurent, "My turn, yes? What's the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to you?"

The answer was about what Laurent would have expected. The sort of thing he did three times before breakfast, but that was simply the way the Veretian court functioned. Laurent's lips quirked because he couldn't help but find it cute that Gansey considered a bribe to help a friend and a bit of flattery to be the worst thing he'd ever done.

"You are so genuinely good that it is maddening," Laurent groaned, finally letting go of his sharp defenses again and relaxing into Gansey's company. "Do you drink? I feel that the two of us should really be drinking if we're going to go on like this."

Leaving the chess game briefly, even though it was his turn, Laurent stood, pacing a few steps. The game would wait. The question required an answer. "Let me think."

Embarrassing. Gansey would want a sweet answer. Something funny. Not the most humiliating thing that had happened to him, though Laurent could think of a few of those. He didn't often feel embarrassment--Laurent was careful with his plans, careful not to leave himself emotionally vulnerable, and he didn't feel embarrassment over his own mistakes, only frustration. "I don't know. I suppose... when I was young, thirteen or fourteen, there was a stable groom. He was..." Blushing and staring at the floor, Laurent cleared his throat. "All muscle. It took me weeks to get up the courage to speak to him. I don't even recall what I said. And my brother came in--he's the golden son, always has been. He's confident, brave, kind. All the things I've only ever faked, and he never even thinks about. And he teases me about my crush on the stable groom. In front of him. As though I were a child. I suppose, at the time, I was, and the groom was an adult. I don't even know what happened to him. I didn't show my face in the stables for weeks. I would just send a servant when I wanted my horse."

Laurent clenched his fist, one hand on the back of his chair as he stared into the fire, hating the weakness and embarrassment of the situation even years later. "Is that a good enough answer?"

His eyebrows lifted at that response. Genuinely good? Really? He scratched his cheek, looking a touch perplexed at the idea. However, he did remember what Laurent had suggested about Vere. A very different place. So, he reasoned, Laurent must have seen much worse.

"I do," he agreed, standing so that he might find someone wandering the halls to grab them a bottle of wine. While Laurent considered his answer he poked his head out the doors and flagged down one of the maids, politely asking for a bottle. She was pleased to assist; Gansey so rarely asked for anything. So she hurried off and he looked back at Laurent while he started speaking.

The story made him smile. It was cute. The typical response of a young boy with a crush—and a fair one. Who wouldn't have been hopelessly distracted by a handsome older man with muscles? Gansey might have responded the same. Though, he was not usually embarrassed by being teased like that. He might have even laughed and embraced the comments. Such was the Richard Gansey way, even when he was young.

"Of course," he answered, wearing an amused smile. If that was what Laurent considered his most embarrassing moment, of course it was good enough. "Siblings can really be the worst, can't they?" Helen had pulled similar actions on him before, as well as they often got along.

On another note, he thought idly, Laurent looked quite good sporting a blush.

The maid returned promptly and handed him a basket. He thanked her and closed the door again, stepping over to one of the unused wooden tables to pull out the bottle. Only, she'd brought them more than just that. Soft bread, cheese, fruit slices. Two glasses and a bottle. And a box. He lifted it up and examined it.

"Oh—do you like sweets? Looks like we imported some dark chocolate from the east. Helen's got a sweet tooth, must have been her. I've heard it's quite good."

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