Damen's face lit from within. "There will never be a shortage of those," he promised, and the hand around Laurent's shoulder traced the curve of his arm tenderly like he was touching Laurent's hand.

Now that they were alone again, he settled back into the comfortable snugness they'd achieved between them. Laurent's head on his shoulder felt indescribably right. It was as if the space there had been perfectly carved for his husband to lean against.

Damen couldn't hold back a grin. "Is that how you like to imagine me? I'd hate to destroy your fantasy." There was a glittering look in his eyes, as though it pleased him very much that Laurent might be thinking of him in such a primal state. "When I'm not beating my chest atop the cliffs of Atros, I like to ride out into the city, and farther when I can manage it; to be amongst my people, see how they live and what I might do to help. That was until...several months ago."

When his father was murdered, when he became King suddenly.

"Now, I'm afraid most of my reading is of the official sort. Legal documents, treaties, trade agreements, endless papers to sign." Damen stroked the inside of Laurent's elbow, thoughtful. "That, too, I would welcome a well-read husband's aid in handling."