The Beast was trying to make conversation now. Laurent felt only irritation at the monster's puppyish attempts to make friends. The first night's offenses had been neither forgiven nor forgotten.

"Riding," Laurent answered, studying the Beast with cold eyes. "Diplomatic relations. Swordplay."

At least he still has his horse. His knowledge of trade routes and crop yields isn't going to serve any purpose here. And he doubts the Beast wants to put a sword in his hand. He left his own in Vere. He was here as a sacrifice, not in an attempt to slay the Beast.