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Shockingly, Laurent found Nicaise in the training arena, practicing against a wooden post.
A rare occurrence, seeing as these days Nicaise much preferred studying topography and arts to training. Damen dragged him off to the arena at least once a week anyway.
“That won’t make for very good practice,” Laurent called. “Have a spar with me.”
Nicaise turned in surprise. Despite the years that had passed, Nicaise hadn’t changed much. He’d had a growth spurt sometime in the past year, and the baby fat had faded from his face to give way to a sharper jaw and cheekbones, but the childish slyness of his blue eyes had not changed; his hair still lay atop his head in messy curls.
It was probably why, in some ways, Laurent still saw him as a child.
“I don’t actually like getting run into the ground at swordpoint.” Nicaise raised his hands. “How was your trip?”
“I’m touched that you’d ask. The city was busy as always.”
The look in Nicaise’s eyes was suddenly alight with mischief. “Laurent, me and the rest of the kingdom know that you and Damen ran off to the summer palace for a holiday fuck, you don’t have to hide it.”
Try as he might, there was no stopping the heat that rose to his cheeks at that comment. “Is that so?”
Nicaise laughed. “No, but thanks for the confirmation, Your Highness.”
Laurent rolled his eyes and drew his sword. “Spar with me. You probably haven’t had any real practice in months.”
“What do I get for agreeing to get beaten up, then?” Despite his own words, Nicaise was already in a combative stance, sword held aloft to match Laurent’s, watching him warily.
“Oh, besides the practice?” Laurent considered. “If you last more than a minute, I’ll return the sapphire earrings I won from you.” With that, he swung.
“I could already buy those if I wanted to,” said Nicaise, dodging around him, “and no one ever beats you but Damen!” Their swords clanged. Nicaise had improved. His attack forced Laurent onto the defense. Nicaise had improved quite a bit. “You’re getting old, Highness!”
Laurent’s riposte drove him back, towards the center of the field; they danced each other as they always did. But Nicaise had figured out long ago Laurent’s particular liking for using the entire arena as a weapon, and he tried too hard not to let Laurent move freely, keeping the fight to one corner of the field.
A nice strategy, in theory. It didn’t matter. Laurent had long since figured out Nicaise’s weaknesses as well as Nicaise had Laurent’s. A final missed parry caused a crucial misstep; Nicaise’s sword was driven out of his hands and a few feet away from him.
“Too old, is it?”
Nicaise swore at him. Colorfully.
“That was at least three minutes,” said Laurent, smiling.
“Don’t sound too shocked,” laughed Nicaise.
It was— good, to see Nicaise like that; smiling, not out of spite or because of his own cunning, but open, honest, genuine. It had taken a good three years to get here.
(For Laurent, it had taken even longer.)
“You don't have to look so smug, Your Highness, you always win anyway,” Nicaise rolled his eyes. “What are you smirking at?”
I'm just grateful, Laurent thought. "Nothing and everything," he said. As promised, Laurent dug up a pair of sapphire earrings from the inner pocket of his jacket and tossed them into the air, which Nicaise caught deftly.
A laugh, as airy and light as it had ever been; though of course his voice was deeper now. “What, you just carry this with you everywhere?”
They remind me of you, Laurent didn’t say, watching the boy— the young man— in front of him. “Call it a good luck charm. But it’s wasted in my jewelry box, really. Much better off with you.”
“I don’t really need them,” Nicaise said, dangling the earrings from his fingers, but he didn’t give them back, merely observing the glimmer of them in the afternoon sun. “I don’t often—”
He trailed off. Nicaise was a member of Laurent’s court now, but he still bought jewelry and adornments he liked for himself. There was one particularly memorable event where Nicaise had swept into a celebratory feast wearing silver paint above his eyes. That had caused a fair bit of gossip among the courtiers and even the councillors, but then, gossip about him was something Nicaise had quickly grown used to. Sometimes Laurent thought that Nicaise owned his past better than Laurent ever did.
But it was true that Nicaise had long since grown out of the jewelry the Regent had once given him. The jewelry Nicaise liked most and wore most nowadays were a silver ring Laurent had given him on his fifteenth year, and a signet ring he kept on a bronze chain. Signs of how far he'd come.
The sapphires were, like the abandoned palace at Arles— more of a fort than a palace, now— a remnant. Something from a different life.
“It— reminds me of... of him,” Nicaise said. He looked startled at himself, after saying it.
Him. “You don’t actually have to keep it,” Laurent said, too quickly. He held out his hand. Nicaise considered it.
“I could just throw it away.”
“You could.” It would be well-deserved.
Nicaise glanced at him. “No, it’d be a waste of money. You’d be a terrible influence if you let me.”
“You could give it away,” Laurent shrugged. “Have it sold.”
“Or I could have it melted down,” Nicaise said, the cheer returning to his voice. “Turn it into a pendant.”
Laurent snorted. “A real good luck charm.”
Nicaise grinned. “Exactly.”
“Hm. Well,” Laurent said, “I know a jeweler.”