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Arles.
When the heart is willing, but the body objects
Laurent at five years old
Snow blanketed the palace grounds, as his highness, King Aleron stood before members of the Veretian court.
“Today marks a momentous occasion,” His voice carried across the gathered crowds who stood beneath high soaring tents of gold and blue.
“After forty years, we welcome the people of Delos back into our land, this week’s festivities signify an offering of peace…a celebration of—”
The king’s speech was interrupted by small, dry coughs emerging from beside him.
Aleron gazed down as light blue eyes looked up to meet his.
Laurent, his youngest son was merely five years old. Unfortunate for him he awoke this morning with a headache, which was proving to progress slowly into something worse.
His cheeks flushed a deep red as he brought his small palms up to cover his mouth. Father’s stern expression made him nervous as he subconsciously leaned into Queen Hennike’s side.
Aleron let out a breath as he looked to wife knowingly.
His mother smiled with ease as she brought a reassuring arm around Laurent’s shoulder, as the king continued on.
“…This is a new dawn for the reunification of two kingdoms, let the commemoration begin!”
The crowds roared with enthusiasm and began to trickled off as Aleron considered his son once more.
“I think it is best that you retire to your chambers…you look unwell.”
Laurent was now clutching at his mother’s hip, with a pouty expression well formed upon his face.
For a moment he remained silent and unmoving, still clinging onto Hennike as he felt a chill which pierced through his fur-lined coat, starting from the top of his head, running down to his spine. His teeth began to chatter slightly as he kept his eyes below him, inspecting his leather boots, which he found to fit way too tight.
“Laurent,”
Mother’s tone of warning compelled him to look up.
He huffed in defiance, with crossed arms he said,
“But our people do not get to see me enough…”
The king and queen held back their smiles as Laurent proceeded to walk right pass Aleron to stand before Auguste.
He reached for his big brother’s hand, ready to depart from the dais when Aleron said,
“No, Auguste must stay here…”
Laurent let go abruptly, stomping his feet, undignified, as tears begun to well in his eyes—a royal tantrum was well underway.
“But Father surely I can take him to his rooms, I’ll return in no time, it’s…”
“No, you are of age now, it is imperative you join not only in council meetings, but festivities such as these. It is rude to leave so abruptly, it’s your duty as prince, Auguste, you are my heir.”
Auguste looked to Laurent apologetically,
“But what of my duty? I’m also a prince, I am Laurent of Vere, I’m—” His declaration was cut short by an inevitable coughing fit which overtook his tiny body once more.
Aleron, despite his better judgement kneeled down slowly to face his youngest. With a firm hold on his shoulders, he said,
“Cub, it is important that you rest…”
Laurent’s pout deepened as Aleron took notice of how in addition to his cheeks, his nose and forehead were beginning to redden as well. Before Laurent could object any further, the king continued on,
“A prince knows when it is time to take a break…Besides, do you really want to be sick on your birthday?”
Laurent’s eyes lit up at this before saying,
“How many gifts did you get me this year, Father?”
Laurent felt mother’s gentle hand rest on the back of his head as the king let out a full, warm chuckle.
“Well, you will have to wait until next week, but you’ll only receive them if you cooperate with Paschal and get better, do you understand?”
Laurent considered this, biting over his lower lip as he gazed up to look between mother and Auguste.
Their expressions mirrored that of Aleron’s.
“Alright, I am ready to retire to my chambers.”
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Ios.
Hear me roar
Damianos, age eleven
Damen’s heart skipped with anticipation as he adjusted his stance.
He watched with a serious expression as Nikandros readied himself from across the distance.
“Prepare yourself, Damianos!” His best friend’s voice boomed as he scoffed at the use of his formal name.
“I’ll have you running pass the hills…”
A smile creeped upon the young prince’s face as he said,
“Enough talking and get on with it already! Or do you fear that your performance will only bruise your pride…”
Nik shot him a mischievous look as he extended his arm back, a quick flick of the wrist sent the ball flying through the sky impressively.
There was no time to think, only to run.
The grass beneath his sandals which grazed along his exposed legs tickled him slightly, as the smell of jasmine and delicate earth revitalized Damen’s lungs.
He kept his eye on the ball and watched as it soared high pass the tree line of the forest bordering the palace grounds, the area he was continuously instructed not to enter unescorted.
Damen pondered his next move.
On one hand, if Theomedes found out, he would be upset. Most likely Damen would get his play privileges with Nik retracted for a while and school lessons would certainly be doubled.
Ugh.
On the other hand, if he returned across the field to Nikandros now, without successfully retrieving the ball, Nik would surely gloat in his face and Damianos simply could not have that.
Damen made the resolve to enter the forest, what Father didn’t know won’t hurt him.
Nikandros cries of warning not to enter grew faint as he stepped over the finely manicured hedges of lavender. Damen then found himself at the end of a jagged dirt pathway, leading out to a small clearing.
The faint sound of birdsong and the slow gliding of monarch butterflies created an essence of ethereal peace. The dark green of the leaves of age-old trees towering high above, created much needed shade from the sun’s rays.
He wasn’t sure what all the fuss was about in regard to this forest, from his vantage nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Damen had just turned eleven years of age and he no longer adhered to the superstition which was recounted to him as a young child that these grounds were supposedly enchanted. He was clever enough to piece together that it was a ploy created by Father and Kastor, to keep him safe and near the palace.
He recalled that he was here to retrieve the ball, now if only he could identify where to start searching.
After walking around aimlessly for several moments, Damen spotted something orange gleaming from the tall branches of a far off cedar.
Damen beamed with pride that he found it, but he was no fool, that tree was far too tall to climb on his own.
He pondered through his options and figured that the best way was to shake the branches so that the ball would surely fall out.
With a boisterous roar he used all his might, slamming his body hard against the trunk, Damen winced from the immediate onset of pain.
Clutching his arm, he frowned because the wretched tree, most importantly the ball, barely moved.
It would be unwise to repeat such attempts again, his shoulder would most likely bruise and he didn’t want to raise Father’s suspicions.
He considered his surroundings in contemplation before his eyes landed on a well-sized branch, sprawled near his feet.
Perfect…he thought, lifting it with ease. With a firm grasp he positioning himself adequately in order to poke at the ball.
He took several steps back to achieve a better angle, before he could register what was happening, Damen tripped and began tumbling backward.
So consumed with the mechanisms of retrieving that damned ball, he hadn’t noticed that he was standing dangerously at the edge of small cliff, which was concealed by a variation of precarious shrubs.
With adrenaline coursing through his veins, Damen yelled out in panic as he rolled against rough rock and moss, hitting the ground, several feet below with a thud.
Disoriented and confused, the young prince remained still, laying on his back, staring up the summer sky—the sudden sunlight which contrasted the shade from the forest was jarring.
After a few moments, Damen stood to his feet, groaning in pain, his knees and elbows were bleeding, he surely would need to spin some sort of story when he returned home.
His injuries became a secondary thought as he got a better look at his surroundings. Damen realized that the forest he fell from was elevated just slightly above the paved winding road where he now stood.
Damen marvelled in awe, he was under the assumption that he knew the palace of Ios and its bordering zones inside and out, yet he had never encountered this area before.
His thoughts were then interrupted by strange, faint sounds emerging from a distance.
It was probably best that Damen find a way to climb back up from where he descended and return to Nikandros where he would be safe, but the young prince’s curiosity got the better of him, and follow the noise, he did.
After a few moments of walking, upon turning a corner, he encountered two massive wagons with horses tightly secured, strangely, there were no riders.
Damen maintained a safe distance as the noise appeared clearer now, it sounded as if animals were somehow crying from inside the wagons.
After further inspection, he realized that the cloths of crimson which covered the boxes were embellished with the unmistakable lion of gold.
These were royal, Akielon cargo.
Swallowing down his fear, he made his way closer to the wagons, he attempted to bid his hands to stop shaking as he lifted the covering carefully.
Damen yelped when he felt tiny paws graze against his hand.
He then noticed two men, who appeared to be the riders, approaching from a distance. Before Damen could speak, he observed the familiar way their eyes widened in reverence, as they lowered themselves considerably toward the ground.
Murmurs of Exalted were proclaimed as Damen felt himself flush.
He was of course accustomed to people prostrating themselves before him, but this sort of reaction was usually exclusively directed toward Father.
Just as the young prince was about to indicate for the two men to rise, a commanding, undeniable voice boomed from directly behind him.
“Cyrus, Elias, it is a pleasure to see you…”
Damen froze before he willed himself to turn, slowly.
Theomedes’ arms were crossed as he glanced briefly at Damianos before continuing to speak,
“Please, rise.”
Damen was shuffling his feet as he looked back at the men, feigning distraction from Father's intimidating gaze.
“…Have I not told you time and time again, you are not to enter the bordering forest unescorted.”
As he was about to respond with animated apologies, distant pubescent cries could be heard from a high distance.
“Damen! Curse you, Damen!”
Damianos gaped as he watched Nikandros emerge frantically into view, at the top of the small cliff close to where they stood.
They locked eyes briefly as Nik glared.
He watched as his best friend pondered his options.
The way down was not necessarily unmanageable in terms of height, the problem being it was undeniably steep.
Damen noticed the exact moment where Nik made the resolve to clutch onto the slanted high branches and attempt to descend gracefully.
He bit back a laugh as he watched Nik stop, half way down, quivering due to the distance.
After hearing Father make a sound akin to disappointment and frustration, he watched as the Theomedes approached the cliff slowly, extending a steady arm to Nikandros, who was quite evidently beet red.
Reluctantly, Nik jumped into the arms of King, as he was lowered to the ground successfully.
Flushed with embarrassment, Nikandros bowed before saying,
“Thank you, Exalted.”
Damen watched as Nik and Father made their way to where he stood.
“It is unsafe to be here alone,” Theomedes said to Damen. “And it is undignified to fear such heights…” he regarded Nikandros.
The two boys remained silent as Theomedes looked to Cyrus and Elias.
“Let’s see them, then.”
The men bowed slightly once more before each made their way before the wagons, simultaneously removing the coverings which graced them both.
Damen and Nik gasped in shock when cages, filled with lions came into view.
They found themselves slightly cowering behind Theomedes.
The king’s fond disposition upon laying eyes on the animals altered when he turned behind him.
“Now why are you two hiding like you have something to fear,”
Damianos and his best friend shifted uneasily as they looked to the ferocious cats.
After a brief moment of silence Damen asked,
“What do you plan to do with them, Father…”
Theomedes’ austere expression softened, just slightly, as he clapped Damen’s shoulder.
“We will train them to protect our borders, we will also bring them to foreign meetings and festivities as a symbol of our power and strength…”
Damen watched as Nik, with his arms clasped loosely behind his back, approached the cage with the small cubs cautiously.
Grabbing a stick from off the ground, Nik extended it slowly through the grates as a cub who sat close to the corner latched onto it, as the others made loud, admittedly endearing noise, akin to the sound of excited kittens.
Nikandros was growing amused.
Damen was now intrigued and about to join his friend when he noticed Father considering him seriously.
The young prince reluctantly met Theomedes’ gaze.
The king pointed to the striking gold pendant, the lion pin which held his regal cape in place before saying,
“The lion represents not only our family, but all of Akielos…”
Damen nodded as he looked to his Father with pure reverence.
“You are my son, my pride and joy…I want you to remember, always, just like the lion, you too are mighty and brave.”
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Arles.
Bedtime tales for a lovely birthday
Laurent meets Calliope for the first time
“Tell me the story again, Mother, this time use the ogre voice!”
Laurent and Hennike were curled up beneath silk sheets as the queen held open a large book filled with ancient folktales alongside intricate illustrations.
“Very well…”
Just as the queen was about to recount the tale of the princess and the beast once more, a knock came from the door.
“Come in,”
Laurent beamed with excitement as Auguste walked in with a rather large object in hand, it appeared to be a crate of some sort, covered with festive blue birthday cloth.
A few paces behind was Aleron, whose smile made Laurent feel safe, an expression reserved only for his family.
Flinging the covers off and climbing down from his bed, Laurent’s bare feet felt cold against the marble floor as he made his way to Father and his big brother.
“What is it?” He asked with glee.
Auguste lowered the cage, placing it gently on the floor.
“Go on, remove the covering…” Said Aleron.
Tiny hands reached for the cloth, drawing it off swiftly with a whoosh as Laurent gasped, taking a step back.
It was a tiny…kitten.
He looked between Father and Auguste.
“So, what do you think?” Auguste asked without bothering to hide his excitement as he crouched down, sitting cross legged beside his now six year old baby brother.
Laurent inspected the tiny creature slowly before saying,
“But there are many cats and dogs roaming outside the palace, what makes this one so special?”
Auguste made a choked sound as Hennike’s fingered tapped against the wooden bed post. Laurent looked up to find mother regarding him with raised brows.
“But I am grateful…”
Aleron unlocked the crate, reaching in carefully as he brought the small, grey-haired creature into his arms.
“She is different, because she officially belongs to you,”
The king laid down the feline sapling onto the floor as she looked to Laurent before scurrying timidly back into the cage.
Laurent frowned, why did this kitten appear to fear him?
“From now on, things will be a bit different, cub, I am sixteen years old now and my responsibilities will keep me much more busy…” Auguste’s voice was warm, even and true.
“Taking care of Calliope will teach you how to be a responsible prince too,” Hennike’s voice was calm but stern.
Feigning interest, Laurent looked at the kitten, whose paws were now covering her eyes.
“Since it’s my birthday, can I have some more sweets, Father?”
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Ios.
Defying expectations
Damianos protecting Maximus
Damen stood outside the gates as he watched the now two year old cubs roam the grounds freely.
It had been nearly a year since Father brought the lions into the palace and their progress with training to be guard and show animals had proven to be remarkable, with the exception of one, whom Damen chose to name, Maximus.
Damen noticed early on that Maximus was peculiar. To start, he was far smaller in stature in compared to the others and he spooked, far too easily.
From the moment the cubs were released from the cages, Damen recalled Maximus trembling and whining with fear in the far corner of wagon.
After gentle coaxing, Damen managed to get him out as Theomedes glared with disapproval.
The young prince now watched with fondness as the sweet cub was off by himself at the edge of the lions’ pen, considerably distanced from the rest of the pack. Sprawled out on his back, Damen took notice of a butterfly resting peacefully on his gentle paw.
Damen heard familiar footsteps approaching from beside him as he regarded Father with a small bow.
Cyrus, the trainer made his way over mumbling his honorific as Theomedes asked about their overall progress.
Damen began to zone out of the conversation, considering Maximus with a warm heart when Father’s next words sent his stomach into twists.
“I think it best we get rid of that rut over there, that creature is proving to be useless…”
Damen’s turned swiftly to see the king glaring at Maximus with disdain.
Just as Damianos was about to passionately object, Hypermenestra, Father’s mistress made her way to his side.
“My darling…” Theomedes said leaning in for a chaste kiss.
“I was just saying how I think it is time we discard of that cowardly cub in the corner, he’s been nothing but a—”
“But you can’t!” Damen interrupted impertinently as Hypermenestra and Theomedes looked to him in shock.
“I beg your pardon?” the king’s voice rose with anger.
“My apologies, Father, I ask you please to reconsider, Maximus may not fit the mould, but it is simply not fair to give up on him so early on…”
Theomedes exhaled as he looked to the cub, who was now dosing off to sleep, while the rest of the lot vehemently followed the other trainer’s instructions. He wasn’t helping his own case at all.
“My king, leave that poor animal be, Damianos is right, perhaps he just needs more time…”
Damen looked to Hypermenestra gratefully as he attempted not to flinch when she reached out to cup a gentle hand to cup his face.
It wasn’t necessarily that he disliked Hypermestra, but more so that it was made clear from the early days of his childhood with just about everyone around him, that she was not his legitimate mother.
Regardless, Damen now extended genuine thanks because soon enough Father relented, saying,
“Fine, but if I do not see progress in the coming months and all he proves to be is a large house cat, boy, he is your responsibility—I will not hesitate to have his head if he causes any problems…”
Damen held back his relief as it would be improper to start jumping up and down like a toddler.
From a distance he saw Kastor approaching.
He watched silently as he gave Hypermestra a kiss on the cheek, as Father clapped his arm affectionately.
“What’s going on here?”
“Great news, big brother, I am allowed to keep Maximus!”
Kastor frowned slightly before regarding the sleeping sweetheart.
Bringing his arms slowly around Damen into a bear hug, playfully he nudged the young prince’s head before saying,
“Out of all the promising cubs before us, why is it that you fixate on the weakling who fears his own shadow?”
After some struggle Damen laughed as he released himself from Kastor’s strong grip.
It was a king’s duty to protect those who could not defend themselves, even at twelve years of age, this Damianos knew.
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Kesus.
10 years later
A meeting between friends
Damianos of Akielos, 21 yrs — Laurent of Vere, 16 yrs
The journey would take just around two weeks.
Akielos was all the way to the south, and though Laurent had no general qualms against the ocean, boarding a ship, and remaining there for days on end was not necessarily his idea of appealing.
Laurent wasn’t even sure why needed to go in the first place.
As he was reminded well throughout his childhood, Auguste was Father’s first heir, he was going to be king and thus his presence was most paramount for this occasion.
Despite his objections of coming, Father would hear none of it, the entire family needed to be seen as Aleron prepared to enter an alliance with King Theomedes.
From what Laurent gathered, Tensions in Vask were getting worse by the moment. King Aleron feared that they would get the idea of allying themselves with Patras in order to wage war against Vere.
After continuous correspondence with King Theomedes, it was agreed upon that Vere would aid them in their dispute against Patras, who had much to be angry about, as it was no secret that the Akielon king had a reputation of being ruthless, overtaking several islands off Patras’ coasts.
It was perfect really.
Two bordering nations aiding each other against potential harm—but still, Laurent wondered why he himself needed to leave the comforts of Vere.
The sleeping arrangements were as pleasant as could be for a voyage ship.
Of course the royal household were given the Great Cabins to retire to, with their retinue far below deck.
The slow swaying of the ship was proving to be quite relaxing as Laurent closed his eyes, ready to dose off to sleep when he heard the guards voices from outside the room.
“Look, a cat!”
The sound of footsteps on creaking floorboards could be heard as another voice said,
“Calliope, how on earth did you get here?”
Laurent moved off of the bed, making his way for the door.
He opened it to find Jord holding his beloved feline in his arms, stroking her neck before bringing her up to pepper kisses on the top of her head.
Laurent mused as Jord flushed.
Oh Calliope.
Since being gifted to Laurent for his sixth birthday, the cat had proven to be everything Hennike intended, and more.
Indeed Auguste became less available to play with Laurent, while Father was busy with, well, ruling a kingdom. The queen had her own duties to attend to, thus Laurent was often left to himself.
Unlike Auguste who was thrived on the high energy and the company of many, Laurent much preferred his own solitude.
The perfect day for him consisted having a book in hand with some sort of tea to drink, most importantly with Calliope curled up by his side.
“It seems she is only fond of you and I, Jord.”
The guard’s blushing did not cease as he handed the cat over to Laurent.
It was true, Calliope was a feisty little thing who often kept to herself with the exception of the younger Prince of Vere and Jord, of all people.
Laurent stroked her tail slowly as he regarded her,
“Sneaky girl, had I known you wanted to come I would have had the servants prepare your food, it’s okay, you can share my meals…”
* * *
The heat was the very first thing Laurent noticed as they stepped out on the deck, upon finally reaching Akielos.
Standing side by side with Auguste, next to Mother and Father, Laurent watched as King Theomedes approached the docks wearing what appeared to be a red curtain draped around his muscular body. The cape he wore moved slightly with the wind as he stood before Aleron, lifting his right palm as a customary greeting in their culture.
Laurent maintained a disposition of ease as he was regarded after Auguste.
He was still very much distracted by the clothing or rather the lack thereof, by Theomedes, furthermore his entire retinue.
This was absolutely scandalizing, him and Mother would no doubt share words of gossip on their attire later when they were alone.
Though it was strange, it made sense he supposed. The weather here was nothing like the mild summers he experienced in Vere—truth be told his tight laced pants and long sleeved shirt were already proving to feel suffocating while in this new land.
“I do see, Kastor…” Aleron’s voice remained neutral.
You mean bastard,
Laurent thought.
Theomedes was heady for allowing him to be present while greeting them, if Father ever found out about the women Auguste had been copulating with, let alone producing a bastard before he got married?
Unimaginable.
The gods would be the only ones able to cease Aleron’s wrath.
“But where is your son, Damianos?” Father scanned the crowd gracefully before saying, “Or am I just not recognizing the man he has become, it has been far to long since your last visit…”
Theomedes sighed, clapping his hands together before saying, with slight embarrassment,
“Unfortunately he has been held up in Ios, but never worry, he will join us for the festival in a few days time.”
Laurent was begin to sweat and was eager to change out of his restrictive garments, thankfully the formalities were no longer prolonged with Theomedes finally saying,
“Come, let us go inside, you all must be exhausted.”
* * *
It had been around four days since arriving and Laurent didn’t know what to make of Kesus.
On one hand, despite their scandalous attire and embracing of bastards, there was a certain free spirited quality about the Akielon people that Laurent appreciated.
Though Vere was his home, and his family his world—the ongoing treacheries lurking within Aleron’s inner circle was stressful to navigate, Laurent felt it and unlike Auguste, he wasn’t even going to be king.
By contrast, based on attending dinner and listening in on conversations between Father and King Theomedes and observing his interactions with high-brow Akielons, it became clear that they thought, furthermore, operated on the premise of right is right and wrong is wrong, a sentiment far different from the Veretian way.
Though he found it endearing, Laurent could identify the downfalls of such ways of thought.
Luckily for him, political matters were out of his hands. As Father’s second heir, the only thing he had to worry about was not dying before Auguste’s ascension, or getting some woman pregnant, two scenarios he was fairly certain to be successful at.
Laurent found himself roaming the palace of Kesus alone, admiring the simple architecture consisting mainly of marble and soaring pillars of white.
The colonnade Laurent walked through felt cooler than the other areas which he had come from. A lovely breeze rustled his hair as the sweet smell of roses grew strong.
Everything was jarringly ordinary in comparison to the severe ostentation of home, but in a way, it was so…peaceful.
That peace was cut short however, when he glanced over through the innate columns to his right to find Calliope sprawled upon the finely trimmed grass, cleaning her paw, with her back faced toward a fucking lion.
His heart began to race as he looked around him in panic hoping to identify a guard, servant or damn near anyone who could help him rescue his sweet girl.
Infuriatingly, there was not a single soul around to help—Despite his terror, Laurent made the resolve to save Calliope all on his own.
Absolute barbarians
He cursed all of Akielos under his breath as he stepped courageously off the marble floor, onto the garden grounds.
Scanning the expanse quickly, he took notice of a crate filled with an array of metal tools housed conveniently by his side.
Clutching a well-sized spearhead through sweaty palms, he looked to the wretched creature who about a few yards away, terrifyingly, he was being considered, in turn.
Laurent was moments away from losing his nerve, ready to drop the weapon and run to call for help instead, when the cursed lion began to approach his incessantly disinterested cat.
With courage from the gods, Laurent lifted the spearhead high above as he charged, at full force, toward the wretched lion.
A commanding voice echoed across the grounds,
“Stop!”
Still gripped with fear-induced adrenaline, Laurent’s head flicked toward the sound.
Before he could register what was happening, a tall Akielon, who had an undeniably striking resemblance to King Theomedes stalked across the garden.
Snatching the stick right out of Laurent’s hands, he had the gall to say,
“What on earth do you think you’re doing?”
Feeling like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest, he looked behind him, pointing frantically to Calliope and the beast as he said,
“Unless you’re fucking blind, my cat is about to be eaten by that foul creature, now give me that spearhead or else…”
Laurent was surprised by his own icy tone.
“Or else what,” Damianos said, before foolishly approaching Calliope only after throwing the spearhead to the side.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed? Oh, please, Damianos, be careful! I—”
Laurent’s words were cut short when he noticed the brute petting the larger of the two cats.
“Maximus, did you make a new a friend?” His voice was unnervingly endearing as he reached a hand out for Calliope, who of against her usual nature, of course accepted his touch.
Damianos' warm smile faded slowly as he looked to Laurent with brows raised.
“You mean to tell me, that creature is your...pet?”
Rising slowly from where was crouched down, Damianos straightened his posture, crossing his arms.
Laurent took notice of how he infuriatingly tall this man was.
“Indeed, and I assume the grey one is yours?”
For the first time in a very long while, Laurent was too stunned to speak.
Still weary he averted his gaze, keeping an eye on Calliope and Maximus...who was very clearly more afraid of his sweet girl.
Damianos seemed to take notice of his apprehension, Laurent tensed when he felt a large hand rest on his shoulder.
“I promise, he wouldn’t hurt a fly…You wouldn’t believe it, but he barely eats meat,”
Laurent was too focused on the fact that his hand felt annoyingly warm. He cursed himself inwardly as he felt his face flush, Damianos smirked, finally pulling away.
Laurent turned his head, denying the heir to Akielos his face. He attempted to steady his breathing as he kept his eyes on Calliope.
‘You know my name…”
Laurent’s arms were crossed, and with his back faced to Damianos he managed to respond with,
“Don’t flatter yourself, your resemblance to your father is uncanny…”
His breath hitched slightly when he took notice of Maximus rising on all fours, opening his mouth to...begin licking the top of Calliope’s head. His grey little sapling seemed to be enjoying it far too much.
He turned to face Damianos whose brown curls and warm eyes were beginning doing strange things to Laurent’s stomach.
“Well, Laurent, it seems like our pets are becoming the best of friends, I’ve already said hello to your brother, I’d love to get to know you as well.”