“It was with a shock that he felt the touch of Laurent's fingers against the back of his wrist. [...] Laurent was shifting the fabric of his sleeve, sliding it back slightly to reveal the gold underneath, until the wrist cuff he had asked the blacksmith to leave on was exposed between them. 'Sentiment?' said Laurent.'Something like that.'Their eyes met and he could feel each beat of his heart. A few seconds of silence, a space that lengthened, until Laurent spoke.'You should give me the other.”

“I'm sorry," said Damen.Laurent gave him a strange look. "Whywould you apologise to me?"He couldn't answer. Not with the truth.He said, "I didn't understand what beingKing meant to you.""What's that?""An end to fighting."Laurent's expression changed, the subtlesignifiers of shock imperfectlyrepressed, and Damen felt it in his ownbody, a new pull in his chest at the lookin Laurent's dark eyes.”

“Damen said, with helpless honesty, "Laurent, I am your slave."The words laid him open, truth exposed in the space between them. He wanted to prove it, as though, inarticulate, he could make up for what divided them. He was aware of the shallowness of Laurent's breath, it matched his own; they were breathing each other's air.He reached out, watching for any hesitation in Laurent's eyes. The touch he offered was accepted as it had not been last time, fingers gentle on Laurent's jaw, thumb passing over his cheekbone, soft. Laurent's controlled body was hard with tension, his rapid pulse urgent for flight, but he closed his eyes in the last seconds before it happened. Damen's palm slid over Laurent's warm nape; slowly, very slowly, making his height an offering, not a threat, Damen leaned in and kissed Laurent on the mouth.The kiss was barely a suggestion of itself, with no yielding of the rigidity in Laurent, but the first kiss became a second, after a fraction of parting in which Damen felt the flicker of Laurent's shallow breathing against his own lips.It felt, in all the lies between them, as if this was the only true thing. It didn't matter that he was leaving tomorrow. He felt remade with the desire to give Laurent this: to give him all he would allow, and to ask for nothing, this careful threshold something to be savoured because it was all Laurent would let himself have.”

“He wasn't sure how it would be, butwhen Laurent saw who was beside him,he smiled, the expression alittle shy but completely genuine.Damen, who hadn't been expecting it,felt the single painful beat of his heart.He'd never thought Laurent could looklike that at anyone.”

“To Laurent, in the same voice, he said, 'Calm down.'Laurent said, 'I wasn't finished.''Finished what?' Reducing every man in the room? Jord isn't any kind of match for you in this mood, and you know it. Calm down.'Laurent gave him the kind of look a swordsman gives as he decides whether or not to slice his unarmed enemy in half.”

“Laurent wasn't loved. Laurent wasn't liked. Even among his own men, who would follow him off a cliff, there was the unequivocal consensus that Laurent was, as Orlant had once described him, a cast iron bitch, that it was a very bad idea to get on his bad side, and that as for his good side, he didn't have one.”

“I want you," said Damen."You've had me," said Laurent. "Twice.I can still feel the . . . sensation of it."Laurent shifted, just so. Damen buriedhis face in Laurent's neck and groaned,and there was laughter too, andsomething akin to happiness that hurt asit pushed at the inside of his chest."Stop it. You will not be able to walk,"said Damen."I'd welcome the chance to walk," saidLaurent. "I have to ride a horse.”