Prince Of Stone - A Captive Prince Fanfiction

III. A Tenuous Pact

"Explain to me again why you can't just drop me at school this morning?" Nicaise said.

"I have an errand to run before my lectures start," Laurent said distractedly.

He stood before a mirror adjusting his cashmere scarf. His wool coat, so dark blue it was almost black, was done up all the way to his throat. He had swept his hair back as usual, giving him what he hoped was a sophisticated, unapproachable air. He turned to his adopted brother. "How do I look?"

Nicaise rolled his eyes. He was thirteen and had about as much respect for Laurent as a languid cat. "Looking at you is distasteful," he sneered.

"And this is why you're walking to school today. This attitude of yours." Laurent gave himself a final once-over before spinning on the heel of his designer ankle boots to face Nicaise, who was pouting surlily.

"For someone who wants me to attend class so badly," Nicaise said, "You certainly could make a better effort to get me there. Say, by driving me."

Laurent waved his protests aside. "School is important, I shouldn't have to keep telling you. Besides, as I said, I can't drop you off this morning. I'll see you tonight. What do you want me to get us for dinner?"

Nicaise shook his head, brown curls bobbing. "We have dinner with Uncle tonight, remember?"

Laurent repressed a shudder and ground his teeth as he said, "How could I forget. Now come on, off to school with you. High school won't wait for you."

He felt a muscle working in his jaw as he adjusted his scarf once more. He felt bare at the mention of his uncle, The Regent. Dean of L'université de Vere. Laurent imagined the scarf as a sort of defence, shielding him from the gazes of the people he would pass that day. It was as much a defence as the look of perpetual disdain he had carefully cultivated to keep others at a distance. They couldn't hurt you if they couldn't get close enough to.

But Damianos had.

~

Thirty minutes and one traffic jam later, Laurent pulled his vintage car up to the gates of the main university campus. As he put the car into park and opened the door to get out, some idiot zipped past on a motorcycle, nearly taking off the door.

In a rage, Laurent slid out of the car with what he hoped was a measure of immaculate grace. Slamming the door behind him, Laurent shouldered his briefcase and yelled over the roar of the motorcycle's engine. "Imbécile! Allez vous faire foutre!"

A few feet ahead, the motorcycle stopped. The engine cut off, and the rider turned, removing his helmet. "Désolé!" He shouted, before he saw who he was addressing. Damianos' eyes met Laurent's and grew wide. "You!"

"You got my text," Laurent said, barely restraining himself from adding, and had you friend stalk my instagram page. It was better he kept his knowledge of it to himself, for now. All the more fuel for a later fire. "Where's my earring?" Laurent was still standing next to his car, determined to get this over with as quickly as possible.

Damianos did not seem to share his attitude. "What's the hurry?" He sauntered forward, rummaging in the pocket of his leather jacket (which he wore layered over an Akielon frat hoodie, Laurent noted with a note of derision).

When he had come to stand mere feet away from Laurent, he said, "You know, I thought you looked familiar on the train the other day. Are you an instagram model or something? Because-"

Laurent cut in. "Don't toy with me. I know who you are, Damianos. You're the reason my brother lost his scholarship. The reason his arm will never be the same."

Damianos ducked his head, looking truly repentant. "And I'm sorry for it. But it was three years ago. Can't we move past it and be friends? . . . Why don't we go grab a drink?"

Laurent glanced at his watch. "It's seven a.m. Unlike you, I have places to be," he said coolly. "And I don't drink."

Damianos shrugged. "Then coffee, maybe? A buddy of mine, Erasmus, works at the campus coffeeshop-"

"I will say this only once," Laurent said, enunciating carefully. "I would never have coffee with the likes of you." He sneered a little, adding, "I doubt you could tell the difference between an americano and an espresso."

"A coffee snob, I see." Damianos seemed determined not to let Laurent's rejection shake him. "Well, here's your earring. I guess-"

Laurent's phone buzzed in his pocket. He drew it out, glanced at the screen, and barely restrained himself from dashing the phone against the pavement and grinding it beneath the heel of his boot.

"Everything okay?" Damianos asked in response to Laurent's scowl. As if he actually cared for Laurent's answer.

Laurent ignored him, his eyes skimming the words of his uncle's message. His name on Laurent's screen, that small act of invasion, was enough to make his stomach plummet. When he finished reading, his hands were shaking. He glanced up, surprised to see Damianos still standing there.

Laurent said, "Join me for dinner tonight." The words surprised him. They had left his lips almost before he had given them thought, and by the looks of it, Damianos too was taken aback by Laurent's abrupt mood shift.

"I-sure! where-" Damianos stuttered.

"My uncle's penthouse. I'll text you the address. 8 pm." Laurent was already turning to his car when he remembered the earring.

His eyes flicked back to Damianos. God, he was tall. Towering a good two heads above Laurent. It was no wonder he'd been so successful as a wrestler.

"One last thing." Laurent held out his hand, palm up. Damianos stared at it a moment before understanding. He dropped the earring into the cup of Laurent's leather driving gloves.

"Until tonight," Damianos said, something like a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Laurent said, "Don't be late."

He did not say, do not make me face him alone.