Chapter 22

THE SHOPPING DISTRICTwas crowded for Laurel's taste, but that was typical of the space. Couples on dates, groups of friends, and families with overexcited children came in droves to browse through the shops and restaurants. Pointedly ignoring them even as they squeezed by him at his corner table seat, again too close for his liking, he wondered where March was.

He'd been so excited to be invited, Laurel remembered. His eyes had lit up like a beacon, sparkling like someone had thrown a handful of gems up into the night sky and they'd hung there. He probably should have asked March to do something together sooner, but… Maybe it was a good thing he hadn't. He was sure that his pre-therapy self would have only ended up getting annoyed with the innocuous little noble and insulting him to his face or worse.

Strangely, though it would have taken hours of torture to get Laurel to admit it out loud, he was sort of looking forward to spending time with him, just the two of them. If only to get an idea of what March was like in an informal, casual setting, without Nero around.

"Laurel!" He recognized March's distinctive voice from across the court, as if he were always just slightly out of breath. It sounded soft, no matter the volume at which he projected it.

Raising a hand to wave him over, Laurel noted the two uniformed guards that hovered a few feet behind him. Close enough to spring into action if needed, but far enough that he (probably) didn't feel smothered. Noticing that Laurel's eyes had drifted to them, March glanced back self-consciously.

"Sorry about that," he apologized, blushing a bit. "After what happened last summer, Neroki really doesn't want me going out by myself."

Laurel gave a shrug, waving it off. He'd been friends with Nero long enough that he was no stranger to having royal guards hovering nearby.

"Doesn't bother me," he said honestly. "Where do you want to go first?"

"First?" March asked, rainbow gaze flickering around them at the large variety of shops and booths. "Oh, I don't know. I've never been anywhere like this before."

"Seriously?" Laurel asked, taken aback before remembering that March had grown up in a poor farming town. "Well, don't worry about it," he added, before the new royal could begin to feel self-conscious about his reaction. "We'll just walk around and if you see anything you want, we'll check it out. Okay?"

"Okay," March agreed, relieved to have the decision made for him. He was definitely more of a follower than a leader when it came to social situations.

As they strolled side-by-side through the crowded aisles, it was impossible to ignore the shocked excitement of the city residents at the sight of their crown prince's husband. If they weren't whispering about him, they were excitedly pointing and calling out his name, though the royal guards prevented anyone from actually being able to approach them.

"Sorry," March finally whispered. "I didn't realize everyone would recognize me."

"Get used to it, Mr. Cesari-Aracovin," Laurel said, rolling his eyes. "Now you know why Nero barely leaves the castle these days. Next time, wear a hat, and maybe a scarf. And some sunglasses."

"Oh, right," March acknowledged. "I'll do that." Then, when a woman with a large, expensive-looking camera appeared from around a corner in front of them, he grimaced. "Oh my god, she's taking our picture. That's so embarrassing."

"She probably works for a newspaper," Laurel said, wrinkling his nose in distaste. "They're going to write a story about you being here. Is this what the royal family is spending our tax dollars on?"

Blanching, March stopped dead in his tracks. "Oh, no! Maybe I shouldn't be here."

"I'm messing with you," Laurel scoffed, amazed. He'd worried about getting irritated by the innocent noble, but instead Laurel found himself already amused and kind of charmed by March's honest and naive reactions.

"Oh." Wringing his fingers together a bit, March let out a slightly relieved sigh. "I guess that would be silly. I just hate to think I'd make Neroki look bad."

"I wouldn't worry too much about that," Laurel assured him, grinning as memories played in his brain. "When Nero and the rest of us were still in school, we'd get swamped by photographers all the time. Nero would always say the dumbest stuff to confuse them, so the stories they wrote about him were always fake."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, one day he'd introduce Ingrid as his girlfriend, and the next day he'd say Ramor was his boyfriend. One day he'd say he was betrothed to some heiress in another kingdom, and then another day he'd say he was becoming a monk and taking a vow of celibacy. I think one time he told them he was getting some kind of wing surgery and going out to live with the dragons in the enclosure."

"God," March laughed a little, but shook his head in disbelief. "What an idiot."

"So I don't think you should worry too much about showing up in some newspaper story with your shirt wrinkled or something like that," Laurel finished. "If he was here, he'd probably tell us to kiss each other, just so they'd write some idiotic theory about us being in his harem or something."

"Kiss you?" March repeated, bewildered, as if Laurel had suggested he eat a slug off the floor.

Turning slowly to face him, Laurel gave him a dry look. "Well, damn, tell me how you really feel about me."

"No!" March exclaimed, realizing now how his reaction had looked. "I didn't mean because it's you or anything. I just…" Turning slightly pink, he groaned softly. "I've never kissed anyone but Neroki, so thinking about that feels strange to me."

Shaking his head a bit, Laurel blew out a breath. "I knew you were a virgin, but jeez. I bet Nero really gets a charge out of that, huh? Staking his claim on being your one and only forever and all that."

Still obviously embarrassed by the conversation, but determined to have a normal friendship for once in his life, March cleared his throat, facing straight ahead as he answered. "I guess he does."

"Okay, so tell me something honestly. That all-white getup you wore for the wedding. Did you guys seriously wait until you were married, or was that for show?"

With Laurel's curious gaze on him, March's back stiffened as his chin jerked up. "It's traditional to wear white when one is marrying the crown prince or princess."

"In other words," Laurel started, a lopsided grin shaping his mouth as he spoke, "You totally let Nero tap you before the wedding." Messing with March was more fun than he'd thought it would be.

Staring up at the ceiling now, March cocked a hand on his hip. Even though he was embarrassed, he couldn't help but smile. "We were engaged already, so…"

"Wow," Laurel drew the word out, shaking his head. "He really corrupted you, didn't he?"

"I am not corrupted," March argued, though he could feel hysterical giggles threatening to rise up and bubble out of him at the blonde's comically shocked expression. "I was engaged and in love."

"Uh-huh," Laurel agreed, grinning. "I'll be the judge of that. How many times did you do it before the wedding? Ballpark figure."

"Oh god," March groaned, covering his face. He felt Laurel's hand nudging at his shoulder to guide him in the direction of a shop the sorcerer apparently wanted to go to. "How should I know that? I didn't keep count."

"Make a guess."

"Well… I mean… The wedding took six months to plan, so it's not as if we finished it quickly or anything."

"Wonderful justification."

"I'm not!" March denied, biting down on his lower lip to keep from laughing. He'd never had a conversation like this before, had never talked about anything so delicate with anyone but Neroki or his younger brother, Myca. He hadn't known what to expect from the sorcerer in terms of a friendship, but already he was having more fun than he'd ever thought. "I really don't know."

"Six months is 180 days."

"So… I don't know, maybe 200." The figure seemed insane to say out loud, but there was no denying that they'd rarely gone a day without some kind of sexual contact, often more than once a day.

Blinking in shock, Laurel waited to see if he would retract the statement. When he didn't, the blonde let out a bark of laughter. "It's worse than I thought. No wonder he struts around even more now. You gave him the biggest ego boost of a lifetime, turning a puritan prude into a nymphomaniac."

"Please don't tell anyone," March pleaded, squeezing his eyes closed, though his face still held an adorable grin. "I would die."

"Your secret's safe with me, Your Highness," Laurel promised him, still snickering a bit. "Come on, let's try on some new clothes. I need shopping therapy right now."

"Because Ash is gone?" March guessed, eyeing him with a bit of sympathy. He could totally understand Laurel's unhappiness. He didn't know what he would have done if he'd been forced to go back to his hometown of Kesmos and away from Neroki at the end of their little courting trial.

"Something like that," Laurel said, surprised to hear himself admit it. He didn't usually open up to anyone but a select few. Ingrid, Cedar, and now Ash. But March's sincerity was so palpable, it was hard to feel mistrustful or bitter. He couldn't believe how much he'd hated the genuine little noble when they'd first met.

After cruising through several shops with high-end clothing and accessories, a book shop, and booths with expensive little trinkets, they settled back into the center of everything, surrounded by places to eat. The pair of guards sat at a nearby table, watching them closely but otherwise not interfering or interrupting.

"I'm going to get a drink. You want anything?" Laurel asked, nodding toward a small but busy coffee shop.

"Whatever you're having is fine," March said, reaching into his pocket. "I wouldn't know what's good, anyway."

"Keep your money," Laurel said, shaking his head. "I'm the one who asked you out, so you can pay next time."

"Oh," March answered, opalescent eyes widening at the implication that the sorcerer would want to hang out with him again. Turning pink, his silky lashes fluttered down as he glanced away. "Thank you, Laurel."

"No problem," he answered, though in his mind he now understood with even more clarity why a selfish asshole like Nero had decided to take the plunge and put a permanent halt on his comfortable bachelor lifestyle. Who the hell could ever say no to a face like that?

He waited in line and placed their orders, impatiently tapping his foot as he watched a teenager make their drinks. It would have been finished a lot faster if the boy had stopped glancing over his shoulder to stare with a pathetically horny, dopey sort of grin on his face, Laurel thought, but kept the observation to himself.

When he brought the drinks back to their table, plopping one in front of March, the noble's eyes widened in mild horror at the mountain of whipped cream and chocolate drizzled over the top.

"What?" Laurel asked. "You like sweets, right? I saw you wolf down that piece of cake at your wedding, so don't even lie."

"So many empty calories," March sighed, using a little spoon to push the cream around.

Smirking a little, Laurel rolled his eyes. "Oh, live a little."

"Easy for you to say. You're tall, so you actually have somewhere for your weight to go. If I gain a pound, it's going to show all over me." Still, despite his protests, March sucked up a good mouthful before swallowing, eyes widening a bit as he processed the sugary flavor.

"The one good thing about being tall," Laurel sighed, taking a sip from his drink as well. "I'll kill you if you ever tell anyone this, but I've always wished my build was more like yours, or my dad's. You're so… delicate looking. Guys must love that." He'd always dreamed of meeting a man that would feel protective over him.

"Me?" March answered, genuinely surprised. "But you're so gorgeous, Laurel. You're like one of those perfect male models that everyone is jealous over."

"Thanks," Laurel answered, brows furrowing a bit. "It's stupid, and I shouldn't care what idiot men like, but it's always been a little awkward when guys get intimidated by my height."

"Ash doesn't," March pointed out as he tapped his straw against his lips. "I bet there's not a single thing he would even consider changing about you."

"He told you that?" Laurel asked, mildly embarrassed by the completely true observation.

"He doesn't have to," March said. "It's obvious in the way you guys stare at each other. He's completely in love with you."

Choking a bit on his drink, Laurel pulled away from his straw so he could suck in air.

"Oh!" March realized, looking sheepish for a moment. "Sorry, I guess I shouldn't say that, right? If he hasn't said it to you yet? Or maybe he has?" He questioned, brows furrowing together in worry.

"No," Laurel denied, feeling a bit queasy now. "I mean, we've known each other for like, a month and a half. That would be insane."

March gave a shrug, looking unfazed. "I don't think it's so crazy. When you know, you know."

"Of course you would say that. You and Nero got engaged after, like, 10 minutes."

Flushing again, March shook his head, though it seemed the exaggeration didn't displease him. "I guess to other people it did seem fast. I honestly didn't know he would propose to me. I never expected him to do that."

"Was it romantic," Laurel wondered. "Or did he do it with his dick out?"

"It was romantic," March answered, nearly sighing at the memory. Then glancing back up at Laurel, he looked a little shy before continuing. "I, um, convinced him then, to…"

"To?" Laurel prompted, eyebrow raised.

"Well," March started, clearing his throat. "I mean it was my idea… Doing it the first time. He tried talking me out of it, but I… I insisted," he finished, turning pink.

Shaking his head, Laurel could only stare for a moment in shock, though he found the idea funny. "Even more ultra-corrupted than I thought. You might be hopeless."

"I might be," March agreed, though he didn't look particularly ashamed.

"But if he tried turning you down first, that's pretty solid proof that he… Oh, my god." Laurel's original thought trailed off, and his eyes widened as he spied a particular person making his way through the now thinning crowd.

"What?" March asked in surprise, watching as Laurel gathered some of the bags filled with their purchases and placed them in front of himself to hide his face. "What's wrong?"

"It's this guy, I don't want him to see me."

"Who?"

"He's engaged to my ex," Laurel explained. "We had this weird moment and… I just don't want him coming up to us."

"Which one is he?" March wondered, subtly glancing around.

"Black hair, blue jacket."

"Oh, I see him," March said, tilting his head. "He must be clumsy."

"Clumsy?" Laurel echoed, confused. He couldn't remember a single thing about Avi that he could have interpreted as clumsy.

"Well, how else would you hurt both your hands like that?" March asked, looking a bit bewildered.

"What?!" Laurel snapped out, raising his head up over the shopping bags to get a look for himself. Sure enough, Avi had a splint wrapped around his index, middle, and ring finger on both hands. He definitely hadn't had those at the café, and it hadn't even been a week since then. Laurel felt himself pale, his heart pounding.

Had Malory done that to him? Had Avi asked Malory about the things he'd mentioned to him at the coffee shop? He remembered very clearly the reactions Malory would have when he suspected Laurel of ever telling anyone the violent things that happened between them. Even though Avi had denied it, had Malory gotten angry about it anyway? He remembered all too well being punished for things that had only happened in the older male's mind.

"Laurel?" March asked hesitantly, completely unnerved by the horrified expression in the sorcerer's eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I… I have to go, I'm sorry. I'm not feeling well."

"I can take you home," March offered, eyes wide as the blonde male gathered up the bags that contained his purchases.

"No, I'll grab a public carriage. Sorry," he apologized quickly. Completely on instinct, he laid a hand on March's shoulder. "I had fun. Seriously. We should do this more."

"O-okay, sure. Are you sure you don't want me to come with you? You don't look so good."

"I'm fine," he lied, before turning on his heel and hightailing it out of there before he puked.

Watching as Laurel disappeared through the large glass doors of the building and out onto the street, March felt the hulking presence of the two muscled guards move to either side of him from their spot a table away.

"Are you ready to go, Your Highness?" One of them asked. Nodding slowly, March watched as they gathered up his bags, carrying them for him. With his bottom lip sucked in between his teeth, he hoped Neroki would have some answers that would help explain Laurel's terrifying reaction.