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"Laurent? What is -whatever are you doing?"
Laurent doesn't bother to look up at him, which stops Damen from freaking out too much. Although he is still standing at their bedroom's door in shock, his body half ready to start to his lover's rescue.
"I am trying to learn a thing," says Laurent, in all seriousness, like he is merely reading a book and Damen is intruding.
"You're doing that on purpose?"
He closes the door and steps forward to get a better view and, sure enough. Laurent sits cross-legged on their bed, looking entirely comfortable if only lost in concentration. Bounding his wrists together is a thick iron chain the likes of which are not even in use in the dungeons. Where did he even get that?
"I figured it could be useful."
"Chaining yourself is useful?" Damen repeated, because he didn't think he was following.
Laurent looked up to him briefly, with a look that said that their minds were not wired the same way and he sometimes forgot that too. He smiles almost apologetically.
"No, of course not. I'm learning to remove them."
He gives Damen a better look at his hands and let him admire the crude manacles closing tightly around his wrists. Damen frowns. It's not anything to make him feel any better to see the rough metal contrasting with the golden cuff on his wrist, but then he sees what seems to be a golden hair pin, decorated with a sapphire-winged butterfly, lodged in the lock. He can vaguely remember the pin being an expensive wedding gift from somebody important.
"I saw a street performer in Akielos removing bindings of various sorts recently, using only a needle," Laurent explained.
"And you just had to try that by yourself?"
"Well, the man would not give me his secret."
"You're the King."
"He didn't know that, in his defense. Just imagine how useful a trick it could be."
Damen shakes his head, disbelieving. He spends all of thirty seconds watching quietly as Laurent tries to twist the pin into the lock, seemingly to no avail.
"How long have you been at it?"
"Hm. An hour or so. I think. I'm sure I'll be done with it soon."
"That would be nice," Damen remarks. "The Vaskian ambassador arrived ten minutes ago. We have to be there to welcome here when she gets to the throne room."
"Oh."
He watches him struggle a little longer. Laurent seems intrigued, amazingly not annoyed, even if two minutes of watching him making no progress is enough to make Damen restless. He has his head cocked to the side in concentration. Damen loves seeing that cute, innocent side of Laurent, the one that learns card games and coin tricks and new languages and takes quiet, excessive pride in succeeding. It's coming out more, these days, now that things are calmer.
But the Vaskian ambassador will seriously not need that long to make it through the formalities.
"I don't want to interrupt you, but can't you do this any later? I really need you to be there for this", he insisted.
"It will be no more than a minute. Any time now. I'm sure I heard it clicking."
"Laurent?"
There is the smallest little hesitation in Laurent's face.
"You do have the keys to these, yes?"
"I will not need them, because I am going to succeed at this."
"Laurent."
"I thought it would feel more challenging this way."
"Laurent! We don't have the time to get a smith here to get this off of you!"
"I can definitely do this, though. I just need a minute- See, I think I caught something!"
His expression of triumph is short-lived. There is a metallic clang and then the butterfly is separated from the long part of the pin, which remains stuck in the lock.
They are both silent for a second. Laurent looks a little embarrassed. Damen just sort of looks at him in defeat.
"You could have picked any moment. Hired any locksmith or thief."
"Yes." At least he recognises it. Damen sighs.
"I don't speak their language, Laurent. I really need you in there. Maybe... Maybe I can stall?" He suggests weakly.
"There would be no greater offense to her," Laurent replies, which he already knows. Then he straightens up a little. "Well, ah. I'll just... Have to go like this."
Damen would ask if he is joking, but he knows he isn't. This is dangerous and catastrophic but he find himself nodding. He wonders if one day being a supportive husband will be the end of him. Until then, he'll be getting weird looks from everyone. Again.