Prince Of Stone - A Captive Prince Fanfiction

V. A Feast of Strife

Dinner was a tense affair. Damen didn't know what he'd been expecting, but there was obvious enmity between Laurent and his uncle. Nicaise didn't seen affected, but Laurent's shoulders and posture were more tense even than when Damen had stumbled into him on the subway.

He noticed with interest that Laurent was not wearing the sapphire earring, despite so vehemently insisting on its return over text earlier that day.

"So," said the Regent when the plates were cleared away. During the course of the meal, Nicaise--sitting to Damen's right--had nearly stabbed Damen's hand with his fork, and by the third near-miss, Damen was beginning to think it wasn't an accident.

"How long has Laurent been keeping you a secret, Damianos?" the Regent continued, oblivious at how close Damen had come to being impaled by a salad fork.

Across the table, Laurent nearly choked on his drink. Water, Damen noted with interest, even though everyone else at the table--Nicaise included--was drinking wine.

"Uncle." Laurent protested. "I hardly think--"

"Laurent. I was speaking to our guest."

Laurent's hand clenched around his water glass as the Regent continued. "It's not like my nephew to invite others to our family dinners. Or befriend them, for that matter. I wonder what drew him to you?"

Damen swallowed. "We met through school," he said, repeating what he'd told Nicaise earlier. "It's been a pleasure getting to know him." This, he found with surprise, was not a lie. Laurent had been short with him, rude even, but even still Damen was drawn towards him.

"Have you fucked him yet?" Nicaise asked disinterestedly, examining his nails.

Damen nearly dropped the pitcher of wine he'd been about to pour. To his surprise, it was The Regent, and not Laurent, who spoke next.

"Language, Nicaise." The Regent said in admonishment. But his eyes lingered on Damen, a new spark of interest behind his gaze that hadn't been there before.

Damen cleared his throat. "I should get going, but thank you for the dinner, Monsieur le Roi. It was a great honour to meet you, especially after your generous scholarship offer."

Laurent's expression turned stony. "Scholarship?" He asked coldly, eyes flicking towards The Regent.

"Yes, didn't Damianos tell you? He's received a full bursary for his graduate program in Military History. Given his . . . Association with Auguste, I thought it a sporting way to show there remains no ill will between us."

Laurent's expression turned guarded. Inscrutable.

As if sensing the growing tension, The Regent rose. "Damianos, perhaps you could join me in the kitchen? I could use some help with the dishes."

"We have servants for that," Nicaise said. "You promised to--"

"Quiet, pet." The Regent commanded, and Nicaise fell silent. "Damianos?" He asked, expectantly.

Damen wavered. Laurent was obviously upset, though for what Damen didn't know. And he could hardly refuse The Regent his request.

He gathered an armful of dishes from the table and followed The Regent's suit-clad back as he made for the elevator. They rode down a level, where the doors opened on a huge industrial-sized kitchen.

The Regent turned to him the moment they stepped out onto the kitchen floor.

"Have you slept with my nephew?" He asked, point-blank.

Damen regarded him levelly. "Do I look like I have a death wish?"

The Regent chuckled. "Perhaps not. But all the same. I think we could be very useful to one another, Damianos. I could ensure your success--and subsequent successful career placement--in exchange for your loyalty. Laurent is a troubled young man. I would appreciate it ever so much if you were to watch over him. Let me know if you notice him . . . Having trouble."

"You want me to spy on Laurent." Damen said plainly.

"Call it what you like. As the Dean of Vere University, I'm sure it's no surprise I carry some sway amongst the faculty."

"I hope I'm capable of ensuring my own success, Monsieur le Roi. Meaning no disrespect." Damen's arms were growing heavy with the dishes that weight him down. It was with a small measure if realization that he saw The Regent's own hands were empty.

Setting the dishes in a nearby counter, he said, "If you have no need of my aid in doing the dishes, I think Nicaise wanted your attention," Damen said.

"Very well, Damianos. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again soon."

The Regent pressed a button on the intercom on the wall. "Laurent? Vient ici tout de suite, nephew."

The elevator dinged, opening to reveal Laurent. An emptied white wine bottle dangled from his fingers, which he swiftly disguised from view as The Regent looked up.

"Maybe you could show me the door, Laurent?" Damen asked him.

When The Regent said nothing, Laurent demurred, "Very well."

Once they were alone in the elevator, Laurent whirled on him.

"You take liberties. I did not give you permission to use my name." He was trembling, and his throat bobbed with the obvious effort of biting back more words.

"Why are you angry?" Damen asked, at a loss.

"He gave you a scholarship. He wanted you here, at the university. I just don't understand why, unless . . ." His gaze came to rest on Damen.

"Unless?"

"He intended to use you against me, somehow. But the joke's on him. I intend to use you to my own advantage."

Damen felt his cheeks flush at the words, though he knew Laurent's meaning.

"Be honest," Laurent said. "Did he make a deal with you?"

"He tried."

Laurent merely clocked a brow. The collar of his white silk button-down shirt had come slightly askew. Damen was very aware of the smell of chardonnay on Laurent's breath.

"I didn't accept." Damen said after a moment. "And I thought you didn't drink."

Laurent eyed him as the elevator came to a halt on the main floor. "Goodbye, Damianos. I'm sure I'll find a use for you. But for now, get out of my sight."

Damen didn't argue.