Kings Rising (Captive Prince 3)

Damen needed to step forward, announce his presence, and stop this. He watched Laurent arrange himself against the wall.

Laurent said, ‘If you’re asking, did I fuck him, the answer is, yes.’

‘I think we both know you weren’t the one fucking him. You were on your back with your legs in the air. He hasn’t changed that much.’

Jokaste’s voice was as refined as her poise, as if the practice of high manners was not disturbed by either Laurent’s words or her own. Jokaste said, ‘The question is how much you liked it.’

Damen found himself with his hand on the wood beside the grate, listening as intently as he could for Laurent’s reply. He shifted position, trying to get a glimpse of Laurent’s face,

‘I see. We are going to trade stories? Shall I tell you my preferred position?’

‘I imagine it’s similar to mine.’

‘Confined?’ said Laurent.

It was her turn to pause. She used the time to peruse his features, as if sampling the quality of silk. Both she and Laurent looked utterly at ease. It was Damen whose heart was pounding.

She said, ‘Are you asking what it was like?’

Damen didn’t move, didn’t breathe. He knew Jokaste, knew the danger. He felt fixed to the spot, as Jokaste continued her study of Laurent’s face.

‘Laurent of Vere. They say you’re frigid. They say you rebuff all your suitors, that no man has been good enough to prise your legs apart. I believe you thought it would be brutish and physical, and maybe a part of you even wanted it that way. But you and I both know that Damen does not make love like that. He took you slowly. He kissed you until you started to want it.’

Laurent said, ‘Don’t stop on my account.’

‘You let him undress you. You let him put his hands on you. They say you hate Akielons, but you let one into your bed. You weren’t expecting what it felt like when he touched you. You weren’t expecting the weight of his body, how it felt to have his attention, to have him want you.’

‘You left out the part near the end, when it was so good I let myself forget what he’d done.’

‘Oh dear,’ said Jokaste. ‘That was the truth.’

Another pause.

‘It’s heady, isn’t it?’ said Jokaste. ‘He was born to be a king. He’s not a stand-in, or a second choice, like you are. He rules men just by breathing. When he walks into a room, he commands it. People love him. Like they loved your brother.’

‘My dead brother,’ said Laurent helpfully. ‘Shall we now do the part where I spread for my brother’s killer? You can describe it again.’

He couldn’t see Laurent’s face as he said it, though Laurent’s voice was easy, as was his elegant lean against the stone wall of the cell.

She said, ‘Is it difficult to ride with a man who is more of a king than you are?’

‘I wouldn’t let Kastor hear you call him a king.’

‘Or is that what you like about it? That Damen is what you’ll never be. That he has surety, self-belief, strength of conviction. Those are things that you yearn for. When he focuses it all on you, it makes you feel like you can do anything.’

Laurent said, ‘Now we are both telling the truth.’

The quality of this pause was different. Jokaste gazed back at Laurent.

‘Meniados is not going to defect from Kastor to Damianos,’ said Jokaste.

‘Why not?’ said Laurent.

‘Because when Meniados fled Karthas, I encouraged him to head straight to Kastor, who will kill him for leaving me alone here.’

Damen felt himself turn cold.

Jokaste said, ‘We now have dispensed with pleasantries. I am in possession of certain information. You will offer me clemency in exchange for what I know. There will be a series of negotiations, then, when we have decided on a mutually beneficial arrangement, I will return to Kastor in Ios. After all,’ said Jokaste, ‘that is why Damianos sent you here.’