Prince of Fire

Chapter 13

Laurent had had enough. Shoving Lord Lovell's wishes into the dirt and trampling them gave him little satisfaction- far less than he imagined. He ought to be beaming, skipping up and down the marble hallways with glee, merrily exclaiming his victory.

Instead, he sulked away from his father's office, tracking his steps back to his tower. Every instant he felt as though someone was watching him. His every step and breath, he felt the phantom touch of eyes between his shoulder blades, but when he glanced behind him, scanning even the darkest shadows, he saw nothing.

This is ridiculous, he told himself. You are being paranoid.

But how could he not be? Just the night before he raced away from the library, fearing for his life as some darkness followed in his steps. And the night before he was running away from some great monster who wore the face of the love of his life who had been dead for nearly a year.

When Laurent saw the door to his tower, he stopped dead in his tracks. What would he do in there all alone? Cath left when he did, gone to attend her duties as a courtier in the palace- whatever they were. Other than her, no one was entitled to enter his rooms without his permission... But he had no one to invite-

Caiden, standing guard before the door, grinned when he saw Laurent. He looked a little lost in his silver armour, shining as though it was new. Like Laurent, the boy was tall and lean rather than muscular, and failed to fill out the breastplate hanging over his grey undershirt. Despite it, he stood with the same assuredness every guard did, one hand resting on the pommel of the sword sheathed at his hip. But that lopsided grin... That was Caiden through and through.

Laurent grabbed him by the arm and dragged him back the way he came- toward the guards' quarters.

"Whoa!" Caiden stumbled after him, his arms flailing for balance. "Where are we going, Fire Boy?"

Laurent fought down the instinct to choke him. The first time Caiden used the nickname given to him by Victoria, Laurent nearly set the boy on fire. The only thing keeping him back was the light that sparked in his darkened heart at hearing the name he adored. Not that Caiden reminded him of Victoria in any way.

"Training," he grunted, releasing Caiden's arms.

As soon as he did so, Caiden stopped. "But I'm on duty."

"Not anymore."

He still did not move, glancing nervously between Laurent and his vacated spot. "If the King finds out, he will fire me, throw me out onto the streets."

"I will not let that happen," Laurent promised. "If anyone is getting punished for this, it will be myself."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Please, Caiden."

Shock passed over Caiden's face, gone in an instant. Laurent rarely ever used that word. As a prince, he did not need to; people did not dare refuse his wishes and orders. But this time, he was not commanding Caiden as a prince, he was asking him for a favor as a friend.

He must have realized it, too, for he nodded. "Alright. Let's get going, then."

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The training room was empty at this hour. Laurent deliberately chose one of the smaller ones where he knew not many guards trained.

Weapons of all sorts hung from the walls, stacked up in the corner, strewn about the floor: swords, fighting knives, daggers, bows and arrows, spears, lances, and even a katana here and there. The curve of a blade, the shape of a pommel, the sharpness of a bow... Laurent found it all fascinating, the display of weapons an art in its own beauty.