Chapter Text
“Voici mon cousin, Eric. Eric, voici mon amant…”
“Belle dame, Eric Løvenskiold-” The Norwegian Nobleman said, as if his younger, and one and a half inch shorter cousin hadn't offered you his name already. “C'est un plaisir pour moi de vous rencontrer.” (It is a pleasure for me to meet you.)
You pulled back your hand when he bent to kiss it instead of simply shaking it. Eric’s eyebrow quirked at your clear message, total disinterest in his charm. His eyes turned to Vincent and he asked-
“Er du så usikker at du må gjemme leken din på kjøkkenet sammen med resten av midnattssnacksen din?” (Are you so insecure that you have to hide your toy in the kitchen with the rest of your midnight snacks)
After a few moments of keeping a straight face, you burst into laughter, Vincent did too. Both of you cackling at Eric's covert insult. It was very clear he had no idea who you were. It made you feel like you could breathe easily.
“Oh! I’m no snack. And if I haven't worn him out before midnight…” You playfully looked over your lover with a heated gaze. “I guess it's only fair for him to use me like his personal toy.-”
Eric had a renewed interest in you, and who you were to his on again off again rival.
“-And, the next time you're feeling insecure, feel like you need to speak in a different language to talk behind my back while looking me in my face- don't. Say it to my face. My lover gets a lot more stabby when I'm insulted, but you don't have to worry about that with me. I subscribe to a philosophy summarized in that ancient Viking text, correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe this is a direct quote- "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but whips and chains excite me.” End quote” Eric grinned deviously then leaned closer to his cousin to stage whisper-
“I like her.” To which you sighed and answered in a perfect deadpan-
“Oh joy. I can die happy.” Vincent growled something under his breath. Something in French about how tempting you were, then caught you around your waist. You dutifully climbed him like a tree to close the height gap between you. His kisses were unhurried, his touch bold, unbothered by the presence of his cousin and other members of staff in the kitchen.
You were in a starry eyed daze when he finally pulled away.
“I’ll have what he's having.” Your joy was disguised with the withering glare you pinned on Eric. Vincent sighed dramatically
“Once again, Eric has made my day shit just by living.”
“I won't keep him past midnight.” Eric reassured you, making Vincent scoff as he told him-
“You over estimate my tolerance for you, cousin.”
“Well, go on. Tell me about her.”
“She is a free woman, not a active membership. She killed a few people, all non-members, she needs to stay hidden from the outside world, but isn't made for the inside, while completely capable-” He paused to consider his words. “-her heart, she is still somehow pure. Even so, Father would have approved of her. And not in the way you do.” Vincent quickly added, causing both men to chuckle. “She was on the streets at eleven. Got a good enough false identity to open her own bakery at seventeen. Another kill caused her to go off grid two years after she came to France. Working here was the perfect place between worlds. She doesn't give a damn who I am, we have nothing the other wants or needs materialistically. It is unlike anything I have ever experienced. I would go so far as to call it love."
“No active membership?”
“A legacy, a parent or parental relative had some small trust. Enough to be-”
“-But not enough to be something.”
Eric finished for Vincent.
Both of their fathers had made them earn everything. While Eric's father tended to take his “pound of flesh” from his son regularly, Vincent was sent to live with one of his father's mistresses when he was 7. Away from privilege and the influence of his mother's side of his family. Then he was sent to something like a recruitment camp for street kids when he was 13.
Eric was treated with mental, emotional and physical cruelty, but grew up in wealth. Vincent wasn't abused outright, instead, he was forced to prove himself worthy of recognition even before he was separated from his family.
In their youth, their names had meant nothing more than raised eyebrows and a place to stay if they had a gold coin to pay.
Vincent got his partial inheritance from his grandfather at twenty one, the first time he had been home since he was seven. Soon after his grooming for the position of Marquis began.
In the time since, they had formed a frenemy sibling like rivalry.
Eric poured more of the aquavit he had brought with him in equal amounts for himself and Vincent before he responded.
“It is difficult to find someone with shared life experiences that will not threaten your own standing within our world. When is she due?” Vincent chuckled, possibly in agreement.
“This is why we were always such good opponents, you know me so well.”
“Deflection.” The younger man shrugged with a happy twinkle in his eye as he tossed back his drink. “If she isn't pregnant… it must be quite serious. You're testing the idea of her out on me.”
Vincent was positively grinning as he shook his head.
“She is it, the family's respect, acceptance, I don't care. Would it be a different story for any other woman or man? Yes, but not her. She is everything to me. I'm going to marry her. So take care, I will kill you or anyone else who would try to interfere with that.” Eric was impressed.
“So you love her, does she love you?” Vincent looked skeptical at his distant cousin’s assessment of his affection, while he pretended to think the other man's question over.
“I think we will love each other very deeply one day.”
“You hopeless, romantic, fool.”