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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He nodded his head as Laurent spoke. It was true; there was no one he could trust as much as Helen, much as she loved to pull his rope sometimes. Though he was also on the opposite end of the spectrum. Gansey was the golden child between him and Helen. Which is why he only glanced at Laurent with a small smile when the other man says he's a little like his brother.

Gansey joined Laurent in helping himself to one of the chocolates. It was rich. The moment it touched his tongue he could tell Helen had probably been in a mood when she'd sent the order for them. She was the kind that needed rich, decadent things when she was trying to unwind. It was delicious, as expected of Helen, always one for the finer things in life. Gansey was less inclined toward rich things himself but could certainly enjoy them when the mood called for it. It paired excellently with the wine. He wet his lips with it, savoring the taste.

"Mm?" He looked at Laurent from over the rim of his glass. Children? He swallowed the chocolate and licked his lips.

"I think... I would not mind, one day," he admitted, giving it some thought. "But not anytime soon." He shrugged a little, leaning his hip against the table while resting a hand on it, pinching an apple slice between his fingers. "There's a lot I want to do before that."

Biting the slice, he glanced up. That wasn't a very direct answer, was it? So he swallowed again. "Yes. To put it simply. " But he'd probably also be willing to accept a fleet of dogs in the absence of children.

"What do you think about the idea of fate? Do you think some things are meant to be?"

Laurent was relieved to hear that Gansey wasn't too set on the idea of children. "I don't want children, so you know," he said, tightening his jaw and meeting Gansey's eyes briefly, then dropping his gaze into the wine. "Certainly not my own. I don't ever wish to..." Blushing again, he cleared his throat. "I suppose I wouldn't mind adopting. There are so many orphans and abandoned children in the world." Even in Vere, which was prosperous enough to make certain that the poorest members of the populace were all housed and fed. "Some days I allow myself the fancy of perhaps... starting a sort of school, for orphans."

Shaking his head, Laurent reached for another piece of chocolate. "I despise the idea of fate. Vere is not, you should know, particularly religious. We discarded most of the old gods as superstitions centuries ago. The idea of fate galls me. Not for my own sake, but for some of the evils I have seen in the world. To imagine that whatever god or fate has designed such suffering, and has fated... for awful things to happen to people, to children... I cannot accept that. If such a force existed in the world, I imagine I'd dedicate quite a portion of my time to tracking it down and extinguishing it, for all the crimes it has committed against innocents." Laurent wrinkled his nose. It was an absurd statement, that he would try to kill god or fate, but he didn't believe in either, so it was irrelevant. "I find it quite a bit more comforting to imagine that the world is arbitrary. Then anything we do is only our own fault, and it is our own responsibility to try to improve ourselves and our world."

Laurent licked at his fingertips, pulling a face again. "It's my turn to ask a question again, isn't it? I don't think you're trying very hard to win, you know." He shot Gansey a reprimanding look, which was undercut by his smile.

Truthfully, he'd been thinking along the lines of adoption. If he was going to marry Laurent they were clearly not going to have any children of their own—and Gansey had no interest in any affairs. The idea of Laurent starting a school for orphans, however, was utterly enchanting. It warmed Gansey from his chest outward. Which was why he watched Laurent with verifiable puppy dog eyes the entire time that he spoke.

While not the must cutting question, the answer was certainly interesting. He knew that the Raven Kingdom was more religious than Vere; not the most religious by far, but they held onto their faith fairly well. It was also fascinating to learn that Laurent had such steadfast, intense ideals. Strong feelings. As absurd it might sound it was also very compelling.

There were points where he certainly agreed. He fully believed that it was their responsibility to improve themselves and the world. To write it off for a higher power... that was something he could not do.

"Perhaps not," he agreed, perking up out of his look of adoration, hoping it had not been too obvious. "But it's the perfect time to learn a bit about you. I don't want it to end quickly." He took another sip of wine, a heavier drink than his earlier sips.

"I happen to find you very... interesting."

Before he could say anything else, he stuffed one of the bread rolls into his mouth.

Laurent couldn't help but notice the way Gansey looked at him. Paying attention to social nuances and expressions had been a crucial survival skill for years, and Gansey's adoration was like nothing else he'd ever experienced. Laurent had been a subject of lust for half his life, even when he was still a child, but it was rarer that anyone experienced infatuation for him, and wanted him for who he was rather than simply for his beauty.

They were still standing close by the food, and Laurent watched him for a moment, then reached out to hook his arm around Gansey's waist, pulling him closer and pressing a soft, very sweet kiss to his cheek before letting him go again. He was smiling, cheeks completely flushed, and he picked up his glass quickly, embarrassed by his own gesture.

Trying to think of a question, Laurent rubbed his thumb around the rim of his glass, smudging the faint film of wine that lingered from where he'd sipped. "Have you ever hated anyone?"

He had not been expecting a kiss. It was a lovely thing. Warm, gentle yet firm, and it left a sweet tingling sensation lingering against his skin. Oh. Even the way Laurent hooked an arm around his waist was something to remember. Yes, smiling suited Laurent much better than his iciness.

Laurent might be embarrassed but Gansey was smiling like a downright goof. Definitely an infatuation, built not on his lovely looks (though he certainly had those) but everything that Gansey's learned about him. What a marvelous creature. He couldn't even remain bitter at his mother about this whole ordeal; not when she brought such a lovely person into his life.

Right. Questions. Focus. Anything sweet was a certain distraction for him.

Stroking his thumb against his lower lip, he considered the new question. "Hated anyone, hm?" It was something he really had to think about. "Mm... yes." Pausing, he stripped off his doublet, draping it on the back on one of the chairs and leaving him in his loose linen undershirt. Much better. "There's one guy. He messes with the friend I mentioned earlier—though it's not my place to... get in the way of that. I'm hoping he'll realize that the guy's bad news soon."

Picking up his glass again, he headed back to his chair to lounge. With no jacket and a glass of wine it was much more comfortable.

"I don't know. I suppose that I'm not so easily riled up."

Laurent's eyes lingered gladly as Gansey stripped off his doublet. He didn't miss the brief glimpse of belly as Gansey pulled the doublet off, and he liked how Gansey looked in his linen undershirt. He was starting to like how Gansey looked in everything.

Returning to the table and taking the chocolates and wine with him, Laurent returned to their game. He hated plenty of people, but he'd been given plenty of reason to do so. It was a relief that Gansey hated someone. Laurent was starting to like all the little flaws and pettiness in otherwise perfect, golden Gansey. It made him feel better, and like Gansey better, because it made the goodness and kindness of him seem manageable. Touchable. Kissable, even.

Frowning at the board as he considered his own unraveling traps and both of their dwindling pieces, Laurent made a move, more focused on Gansey now than winning the game they'd almost finished. "Your turn for a question. Go on, take a risk."

He studied the board again, becoming reacquainted with the pieces he'd left in play. Some traps wouldn't work anymore now that Laurent had stolen some of his pieces. Others still might. It was second to their word game and his mind was more settled on what question to ask. Still, his hand hovered over pieces, picking one up and giving it some consideration before deciding where to place it down.

A risk. He considered what he might ask that would be considered risky. His lips parted in a question, "Have you..." but then stopped. Closed them again and pressed them together, a crease forming in his brow once more. Gently squeezing the head of the pawn he was moving, he reconsidered.

After a moment he placed his pawn down and chose something else, "What do you fear?"

It could be a risk to ask such a thing. Royalty had a lot to fear. It wasn't phrased as a yes or no question, either. He glanced back up at Laurent, watching as the hues from the fire, reds and oranges, stretched across the man's handsome face.

Laurent's cup stilled halfway to his mouth. His face paled, thinking instantly of an answer. Glancing aside, he set the cup back down, mulling over different responses and various fears. None of them--death, loss of his loved ones, public humiliation--compared to the first one that had come to mind. Any other response he might make would only be an evasion.

"Pass," Laurent murmured, very quietly. He swallowed, getting to his feet and tilting his king onto its side.

"You promised me a book recommendation." Laurent's voice was steady, though he wouldn't look straight at Gansey and his fingertips were twitching very slightly as he fought back his memories.

Gansey was glad, when he saw Laurent's face pale, that he decided to change his question. The first one had been worse. If that was Laurent's reaction to being asked what his fears were... the earlier one would have soured the mood altogether. He was not above taking risks but in the end, kindness would always win out. Even if the second question had not been kind without the context.

He watched as the king rolled, stopping only when the crown was flat, keeping it from moving any longer. Dead.

"I did." His voice was soft. He would not ask Laurent what he was thinking about. Would not make him think about it more than necessary. If there was anything Gansey understood, it was having a panic attack from memories. Had Laurent asked him the very same question earlier, he would have been the one to lose the game.

"And I think I know which to give you."

He took a sip of his wine before leaving the glass on the table, getting up and striding over to some of the bookshelves. Pulling a book out from a mess of them—it was leatherbound and quite old.

"It's a journal, actually. From the first king. The Raven King." He looked at the book with some fondness before returning to Laurent to hold it out to him. "It was the first thing I discovered in this room... like it was calling for me to find it. It describes his experiences building the castle and kingdom, describes the lands, the lores, and has several secrets." Hidden things. Things he'd spent years searching for, out in the wood, unable to find yet. Even secrets about the castle. Hidden chambers and how it was built to be a maze, explaining its odd twists and turns.

"It's quite special to me."

Laurent took it, stacking it with the other and curling both protectively against his chest. The value of it must be incredible, a sort of historical relic for the kingdom, if it had truly been written by its first king. Laurent felt honored that Gansey was willing to share it with him. "I'll take care of it," he promised, gaze flicking over Gansey's face and then dropping away. "Will you walk me to my room?"

He wanted to stay near his fiance's side, but he also desperately wanted to be alone. The day had been emotionally intense for him, and Laurent had kept pushing them both at the end of it. He was glad that the game had ended on a relatively safe note. There were other questions he would have answered which might have been worse, in their own ways.

But there was plenty of time to get to know Gansey, and they had a full list of plans for the coming days.

He smiled his genial smile, a bit softer than usual, reflecting his tone, "I would be honored to." The fire and basket he left, not because he expected the servants to clean up after them, but because he would return once he brought Laurent to his rooms. Gansey was a terrible insomniac. Night was when he spent building his paper kingdom and studying old books. Sleep was a difficult and rare thing for him, no matter how tired he was. Usually, he only slept about three hours a night.

"It's been a long day." No doubt longer for Laurent than he. It was almost surprising to think that the man had only been here for a day—it felt like he had been here forever. Perhaps far too sentimental a thought. He pushed the doors open and offered Laurent his arm again, content to guide the way in relative silence.

It was much shorter to reach Laurent's rooms from the library than the banquet hall, somehow. Just another oddity of the castle, with its angled hallways and many sets of stairs. As he had said before, the white bricks did point the way.

When they reached the doors to Laurent's quarters Gansey smiled again. He had the urge to kiss Laurent's cheek in return but felt it was too bold for him to do. Instead, he settled on clasping Laurent's free hand in his and gently raising it to his lips, lingering in a kiss that was longer than politeness dictated.

"Thank you for your company today. I wish you sweet dreams."

Laurent took his arm as they walked, gripping it a little tighter than he'd done before, leaning into Gansey's stability and warmth as they walked.

Watching Gansey with lips slightly parted, Laurent couldn't look away from the sight of Gansey's lips on his hand, kissing his hand as though it was something precious. He'd had his hand kissed before, often, but it had only ever made him want to wash. Gansey's gesture made his heart pound.

It took him a couple of seconds to respond, struck by the urge to pounce Gansey in a hug. Once, as a child, he would have done just that. He'd been a fearless, happy child, clever and affectionate.

"Good night," Laurent said, squeezing Gansey's hand briefly before he pulled away and went into his room.

His heart was pounding. In his life, he'd been the target of so many romantic gestures, but not a one of them had ever made him feel the way Gansey's attention did.

One of Laurent's Veretian attendants was waiting in an adjoining room, rising at once and coming to help his master out of the complicated laces of his wardrobe. Laurent shared Gansey's preference for doing things himself, but Veretian fashion simply didn't allow it, and that had led to Veretian habits of simply expecting his servants to always be at hand to see to his needs and whims.

Curling into bed, Laurent pulled the covers up over his head, curling up into a ball like a child and sorely missing Gansey already.

He was sad for losing Laurent's company. As the kiss did before, the squeeze to his hand remained, a faint memory that still somehow felt real. Was it normal to be so enchanted by someone upon first meeting them? Gansey didn't know. No one had ever made him feel this way before. And, as the heir to the throne, he had met many possible matches. For whatever reason, his mother had bypassed them all and selected someone Gansey had never met. In fact, she had gone and put forth the proposal.

Gansey stood looking at the door for a moment before returning to the library to settle down beside his paper kingdom. However, his heart was not in it, the room feeling empty without the other man's presence. Cleaning up their mess, he put the fire out and headed to his own rooms. Sleep was not something he could achieve even when he put himself to bed and stared at the dark ceiling. Tonight, at least, he had plenty to think about. And he did. Did, until he finally fell into a half-sleep that broke once light hit the horizon and touched his large bay window.

Rather than laze in bed, he rose, heading out to the stables to make sure everything was prepared for their ride today. Dressed in clothes much less elaborate than yesterday: soft brown riding breeches, an off-white loose fitting tunic, and boots. It was where he was struck with an idea; one that he hoped would please Laurent, make him feel more at home with them.

The servants were used to Gansey's oddities so they prepared breakfast for him, as they usually did, outside the hall. Simple things like toasted bread and eggs, bacon, and whatever else could fit in a basket.

When it was of a more reasonable time, one of the maids knocked on Laurent's door to inform him that the young prince was waiting for him at the stables whenever he was prepared for the day. Should Laurent decide to meet him there, he would find Gansey pitching hay with a pitchfork, doing work that was clearly beneath him yet enjoying it completely.

Laurent was surprised and disappointed to be fetched by a maid rather than his betrothed. Finishing his preparations for the morning, Laurent asked directions to the stable, not considering any other option but that he should spend the day with Gansey.

He was dressed as austerely as ever, in an almost identical dark blue tunic laced all the way up his throat. Only some minor difference in embroidery proclaimed it to be a different outfit at all.

Puzzled as to where he was directed within the stables, Laurent found his betrothed hard at work and with hay in his hair.

Brow furrowed, Laurent smirked slightly and leaned against the stable wall as he watched. "This stable has very handsome grooms," he commented, meaning Gansey. The situation was outside of Laurent's comfort zone--as comfortable as he was with his own servants and guards, Laurent had never taken it this far. In Vere, this would be an unacceptable eccentricity from a prince, and it made Laurent feel uncertain of his footing.

When he heard Laurent's voice he stopped his work, standing up straight and wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. He looked every bit as refined even when doing muck work.

"Oh?" He sounded quite cheerful and pleased to see Laurent. Frankly, he wasn't even sure what time it was, but from the sun he had to guess that it was now a reasonable hour. He hadn't thought Laurent would appreciate being woken at sunrise. Not many did.

"I'm just an apprentice, really," he grinned back. "Just wait until you see the actual grooms." He left the pitchfork leaning against the wall and stepped closer to his bethrothed. He was aware that it was probably an incredibly odd sight: the man next in line to be king, taking care of his own horse. More than just the brushing that a royal might do every once in a while out of affection for his beast. But it felt good to do honest work and no one really knew about it; his parents were just rising, and didn't often venture out this way.

"Did you sleep well?"

"I think I prefer this one," Laurent flirted, ignoring the question about how he'd slept. Poorly, and troubled by nightmares, as usual.

He reached out as Gansey stepped closer, taking hold of the front of Gansey's tunic and pulling him in another step so that Laurent could kiss his cheek again. He liked the way that Gansey smelled, clean skin and soap, and Laurent wanted to linger with his lips on Gansey's skin.

He didn't. Letting go, Laurent stepped back again, having met his limit for as much affection as he could offer in that moment. "What are your plans for us today?"

The kiss surprised him less than the one last night, being the second, but it still felt as amazing as the first. It made him grin in the way that brought out his dimple, hazel eyes glittering as he was kissed by sunlight that broke through one of the gaps in the wooden walls of the stables.

"A few things," he admitted, grabbing the basket that had been brought out just earlier and peeling back the blanket to reveal various breads, meats, and jams. "Some breakfast," he said, because one should never begin a day without breakfast, "and then I have a surprise for you. After that, I thought we might go riding. The lands are beautiful this time of year and I have no desire to sit in on the court today. It's not my favorite thing."

Which should have been obvious, considering how eagerly he ditched last night. His parents might be displeased by his absence considering that he should be helping his new bethrothed get accustomed to the court, but he had little interest in wasting a beautiful day making boring conversation with ladies thirty years their senior.

"Does that sound acceptable?"

"Yes," Laurent agreed, utterly charmed by Gansey's grin and his plans for the day. He was glad for the provision of breakfast, having worried that he might be expected to go without. "I'd like that very much."

Gansey's reaction made Laurent want to kiss him more, and often. It was becoming harder to have an interest in anything other than kissing his charming fiance. It was certainly a relief to be spared the tedium and drama of the court for another day, and Laurent thought that perhaps if they went riding somewhere suitably private, there might be an opportunity for a proper kiss between them. "Although I would prefer not to breakfast in the stables."

He laughed, shaking his head as he hefted the basket into his right hand, "Oh, no. I wouldn't make you do that. I'm not that odd." There were limits, even for one as eccentric as Gansey. He brushed the hay out of his hair with the other, hoping he didn't smell too much like horse.

There was a well right outside the stables, anyway. Settling the basket down, he helped himself to some water and rinsed himself off so that he might not take the stables with him to breakfast. Smoothing his hair back with wet hands, he shook them off and pat them on his shirt so that they might dry.

"I wasn't sure what you liked so I asked them for a little bit of everything," he admitted, taking the blanket that had been on the top of the basket and laying it out on the grass. He thought breakfast outside, sharked on a thick blanket, might be more pleasant than staying inside. Besides—he was a bit of a romantic at heart, and even if Laurent had no feelings for him outside of friendship, he would do his best to show that he cared for Laurent. Arranged marriage or no.

"Breakfast foods are some of my favorite, actually. I love fresh bread and jam."

Laurent lounged on the grass beside him, reaching for an insulated canteen and opening it to find tea. He sprawled, elegant and lazy, as he picked through the basket and nibbled at the morsels that he wanted. Out here in the sunlight, Laurent was aware that they would likely be watched by curious servants and courtiers, but hoped that the courtiers would have the sense to leave the two princes to their privacy.

"This is perfect, thank you," Laurent said. He smiled, allowing himself to enjoy the feeling of safety and relaxation. He toyed idly with a piece of cheese before popping it in his mouth. "I've never in my life felt quite so comfortable with someone before. If this were Vere, we would have been swarmed by sharped-tongued courtiers--and their pets, who are generally even more spoilt and critical."

Laurent wrinkled his nose, looking away with a wave of unhappiness. "I suppose I never did tell you what they call me. Even my servants and guards, who are actually fond of me, are in the habit of calling me a cast-iron bitch."

Gansey's eyebrows lifted when he heard that nickname. How crude. He would never call Laurent such a thing—even if he felt the man deserved it, which he did not. But Gansey never used crude language if he could help it. He did not curse, even when he was stressed out or upset. He was more of the type to remain silent than to fall into rough language.

He had been lazing on his back but rolled onto his side to look at the other prince.

"I don't see it," he said, simply. Maybe he was simply being too good or naive again, but outside of how he had first met Laurent, he had not seemed like—that at all. Coldness in a new place was understandable.

"I think... I would like to think of a better nickname for you," he decided while picking at some buttered toast, chewing thoughtfully as he studied Laurent for a moment before returning his gaze to the sky.

"I don't like that one."

"I don't much like it, either," Laurent said, toying with a piece of grass. Gansey said he couldn't see it, and Laurent was torn between wanting Gansey to think well of him and wanting Gansey to know the truth. Sweet, gentle Gansey who had no idea what the Veretian court could be like, and couldn't think of Laurent as a cast-iron bitch even though half of Vere had a hard time thinking of him as anything else. "It's true, though. And you should know what sort of creature you're marrying."

Laurent sighed, laying back and watching the sky. "The term gained a lot of ground after I threatened to castrate Duke Reinfeld for touching me. I only regret not having the opportunity to carry it out."

That was true, although Laurent had neglected to mention some context about what he knew of Reinfeld's crimes and corruption, beyond just his inappropriately straying hands.

"He shouldn't have touched you without your permission," was Gansey's prompt retort to that. What sort of man touched someone that clearly wasn't interested? Not that he knew the circumstances or history. That much he could nod his head toward. Still. It didn't seem a good reason to be so ... uncivil. Calling someone such a name.

But hearing such things made Gansey painfully aware of how charmed his life was. Sure, he'd had to bat off some unwanted admirers. Usually he was able to manipulate and distract enough that they often forgot that they were trying to fondle him. But he did not doubt that, if he were to call someone out on poor behavior, that the court would be on his side. It made him quiet to think that it was a privilege. Not many were afforded the same sense of safety.

It made him want to strive to make Laurent feel safe, too. Give him a taste of not having to mistrust everyone.

He turned his head again so that he might study Laurent, instead. Eyes flicking between the way he fiddled with the grass and his lovely face.

"I think you're a marvelous creature."

He would not deny that there was a harshness to Laurent. But he didn't sense that it came out of cruelty—no. He didn't think so. No one could look so forlorn and truly be a cast-iron bitch.

Laurent startled when Gansey called him marvelous. Cheeks flushing, he stared for a moment, still not used to this kind of honest flattery. "I don't understand how you can. I don't want to disabuse you of the notion, and yet I can't stand the thought of you being deceived."

Sitting up, Laurent ruffled his own hair to try and get any stray grass stems out of it. "But I will believe that you mean it, and I'll do my best to..." Laurent grimaced, not sure what he could offer, since he certainly didn't believe himself capable of unselfish goodness. "To be worthy of a place at your side." It felt inadequate, but Laurent wasn't about to let anyone else take that place from him.

He started packing up the basket again, eyes on it rather than on Gansey. "Shall we go?"

He was tempted to tell Laurent that he already was. Gansey wasn't so perfect, so high and good. He was full of faults that Laurent had simply yet to see. Like how he was impossibly stubborn and often told he was too controlling. He often said things without thinking, which was why he always was trying to police himself, lest he offend without realizing it.

But there were better things to do. He nodded, sitting up and stretching his arms over his head, "Let's. I'm excited about this next part." This was the surprise—he hoped it would cheer Laurent up.

Standing, he folded the blanket and tucked it back inside the blanket before nodding toward the stables. "It's in the back. Follow me."

He offered his arm to Laurent again with a gentlemanly bow, exaggerated, to seem the pinnacle of a prince.

He lead the way to the back of the stables where there was a cherry mare. She was snug in hay and surrounded by water and food; this one was in no state to ride, clearly, from the swell of her belly.

"This is Butternut," he explained, taking an apple from the basket to the side to offer it to her. Pleased, she huffed happily and stole it from his palm. "She's due to foal any day, now. I was hoping to give the foal to you. You could raise it, and eventually ride it, as your own. If you wanted." He wasn't sure how Laurent felt about it, but it was something he wanted to offer. And Butternut was a sweet, beautiful mare.

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