Chapter Twenty-Five – Whispers in the Alcove
Cracking Lukas's cypher had taken him long enough, but progress was still progress. Ali's knock on the door forced him to hide the notebook, but he needed to find a different place for his own translation. If anyone happened upon Lukas's secret diary – the only paragraph Lawrence had cracked made the notebook feel like one – they'd have a hard time figuring out what lay concealed between its pages.
"Just a moment," he said loudly, while stashing his findings under a stack of books on his desk. After a short moment of hesitation, he put the picture inside the pocket of his uniform jacket. The key to Lukas's code was safest with him.
"You took your sweet time," Ali scolded him once he finally got the door.
"What happened last night?" Lawrence asked. "You and your brother looked quite freaked out." Lukas's ghost still lingered in the room, his resigned words ringing in his mind, and Lawrence needed to shake it off so he could focus on the usual Veridien challenges.
"Didn't we tell you?" Ali narrowed his eyes, observing him closely. "Bad night, Larry? You look a little pale."
"You have some nerve to talk about last night," Lawrence said, picking up the gauntlet smoothly. "What trouble did you and Fifi get into?"
Ali's sour expression did little to impress him. "I shouldn't have called him that in front of you. You're like a dog with a bone sometimes."
Lawrence shrugged. "I have to be, remember? How much did you have to drink? You were barely making sense. That's why I didn't understand a thing about how you boys got in that terrible mess."
"It wasn't my fault!" Ali exclaimed, throwing his hands out in surrender. "Abe tripped over someone, and since he can't take someone cursing at him--"
"Ah, Abe. I thought you didn't like him."
Ali pursed his lips. He, too, was a bad liar. "Everybody calls him that, so it just comes naturally. Thing is," he continued, faster and faster, "Anton can't stand it. You know, people getting physical with his pal and all. He was the one to throw the first punch. It all… well, derailed from there."
Lawrence shook his head slowly. "What are they teaching you here? Anton throws punches, Bastien does the same, you and Fifi drink enough to smell like a whole distillery--"
"And you sleep with Bastien," Ali interrupted him.
"Is that really an infraction compared to what you boys get up to? By the way, you don't look too fresh yourself."
"Well, I did vomit quite a bit," Ali admitted. "I suppose my brother will lord it over me enough, so I don't need you to do the same."
"Truce then?" Lawrence offered. The faster he threw Ali off any scent regarding the ongoing investigation, the better. His partner, as well intentioned as he appeared to be, was still a civilian. In the light of his current findings regarding Lukas's notebook, Lawrence had every reason to believe that Lukas not only knew his killer, but he also had a premonition regarding his fate. Leaving aside the possibility that he was a superstitious person, that could very well mean that Lukas had feared for his life before the time of the murder.
"Truce," Ali agreed.
"What does the academy have in store for us? After breakfast, I mean. It is Sunday," Lawrence pointed out.
"What do you think? We must attend service," Ali replied.
"Really? I was under the impression the education system here was secular, not religious."
"Oh, it isn't like that. Outside our mandatory lessons, Veridien must instill in us, its students, the principles that guide it. And hopefully, us, once we're no longer here."
"Principles. Such as?"
Ali squared his shoulders then recited from memory. "Loyalty, discipline, determination. In other words, we will spend around three hours standing and listening to the biggest eggheads of the faculty reading obscure philosophical texts."
"What is the purpose of this… service?"
"Hush. We don't call it that."
"You called it that," Lawrence pointed out.
"Yes. Because I allow myself a certain degree of freedom when I'm around you. Let's call it by its real name. Brainwashing."
"Seriously? And do you allow yourself to call it that around who, exactly?" Lawrence teased his investigative partner.
Ali rolled his eyes. "Let's have breakfast. You will feel quite brainwashed after three hours of Veridien's finest instruction."
***
Lawrence felt more inclined to consider the 'service' imposed by the academy as an endurance test. During the second hour of standing without moving much, his legs were getting numb. After stealing glances at the other students, he developed the habit of shifting his weight from one foot to the other, as he noticed others doing.
Only a cathedral would demand the same dedication and respect, but what Lawrence was hearing didn't qualify to be called religious as far as the subjects expounded upon were concerned. Philosophical texts abounded, and the voices of the speakers carried over the large, vaulted room like the words of a priest. The manner of delivery made all the difference.
The light filtered inside from tall windows. After snowing for almost two days, the sun had returned. Together with the cadence of the professors handling the ceremony, the warm light made Lawrence feel as if honey flowed through his veins. In other words, even standing, he risked falling asleep. Ali had to elbow him a few times to prevent him from dozing off and making a fool of himself.
Instead of listening to the boring lectures on the day's syllabus, he chose to examine the others, as much as he could do since all the students stood aligned like obedient little soldiers. The occasional cough was glossed over, but no one dared disturb the solemnity of the ritual.
From where he stood, Lawrence could only glimpse the back of Bastien's head. He had to press his lips together hard not to laugh when he noticed that the Sun King had opted for wearing a turtleneck underneath his uniform. That meant that certain marks left by a certain someone needed to be concealed.
Ali must have been wrong about Lukas not having loved Bastien much. After all, he had entrusted the key of his secret writings to him, even if only as a symbolic gesture. If he thought about it, Lawrence could now interpret the way Lukas stared at Bastien differently now. He must have kept Bastien in his sights because of how important the informal leader of the Golden Circle was to him.
The photograph could burn a hole in his pocket. That reminded Lawrence that he needed to find a place for it, as well, because the chambermaids would stumble upon it otherwise.
Hopefully, there were no other activities planned for today. Lawrence wanted to return to Lukas's notebook and peruse it at length.
Of course, that was only one part of the problem. Ali was already pulling at his sleeve. "We should check that book for clues," his partner whispered. "I failed to find any, but maybe you'll be luckier."
"We'll see," Lawrence whispered back.
The Geometry of Power had fallen in importance, given the nature of his recent findings. But he had to string his partner along and maybe bore him so badly that Ali would give up on this investigating business and treat it as mere entertainment.
It was finally over, it seemed. The students murmured thanks in Latin, and Lawrence followed their example.
"Well, that was quite the experience," he commented. "Any other torture planned for today?" he asked Ali.
"No, thank heavens, in case they do exist, although any Veridien student you might ask would beg to differ," Ali replied. "That means that you'll spend the day with me."
"All right," Lawrence agreed. "You don't mind if I check on Bastien quickly first, right?"
Ali waved. "Go, lover boy," he said in the husky tone of a forties' movie heroine. "I need a word with my brother, too."
What that word might be, Lawrence wondered briefly but gave up. Not knowing everything that happened around him would certainly allow him more free time to focus on his investigation. So far, the lack of it had been his main challenge here, at Veridien.
***
He noticed Bastien climbing toward his quarters with Anton in tow. If he wanted to catch the Sun King by himself, he needed to wait until Anton bid his goodbye. Hopefully, they hadn't planned a long meeting together. After last night, Lawrence felt a deep, imperious need to watch Bastien's eyes. He wouldn't admit outright the reason why he cared about such a useless, romantic endeavor. He could, at least to some extent, lie to himself that it wasn't about how he wanted to compare the look on Bastien's face with that from the photograph in his pocket.
Luck appeared to be on his side. Bastien and Anton stopped on the intermediate landing, choosing a small recess in the wall to lean against the smooth stone and finish their conversation.
Lawrence walked quickly but noiselessly and hid under the stairs. What prompted him to behave like a chambermaid in love with gossip was a tad difficult to explain. He was, rudely so, eavesdropping.
"You are exaggerating, is what I'm saying," Anton said. He sounded reproachful, even if restrained.
"I can't understand why you treat this as if I'm sacrificing myself," Bastien replied.
They weren't talking loudly, but their whispers carried well from their alcove to the place where Lawrence stood hidden.
"Aren't you? You behave as if you need to hide. From me."
"I hope you don't expect me to air my laundry in your presence. Red, you know me better than that."
"Your behavior borders on being brazen. Herr Becker will notice eventually."
"Is it wrong to enjoy pleasure? I haven't had it in so long," Bastien complained.
"Pleasure?" Anton sounded contemptuous. "This isn't about you enjoying pleasure."
"Thank you for reminding me. My being miserable suits you better, then?"
"Is he such a good fuck?"
Lawrence had to admit that he was waiting for Bastien's reply with interest.
"Don't be crass, Red. Maybe it is a little more than pleasure."
Anton snorted audibly. Lawrence could picture his sneer. It somehow fit his handsome face now that he was young, but his sour attitude might make him age prematurely. Someone should warn him; someone with a better heart than him, of course.
"What else is there to have when someone like him is involved? He is not even that handsome."
Lawrence had to bite his bottom lip to keep a chuckle in. Jealousy wasn't a particularly good look on His Dark Eminence.
"I don't know," Bastien said breezily. "I'm tired of perfection and gourmet dishes. I want to eat bread."
"And sausage, I bet," Anton retorted.
Lawrence bit his fist now. Veridien should work harder on brainwashing these young men because they didn't yield enough.
While he couldn't laugh, Bastien did. His laughter was free and healthy, resonating between the old walls, giving them new life.
"We can't all remain chaste the way you do, Red."
Anton berated him in a low voice, so Lawrence couldn't make out his words, but eventually His Dark Eminence joined his king, laughing as well.
He withdrew further into the shadows as Anton walked down the stairs, his gait easy and unbothered. So, they were all aware of Bastien's involvement with the new transfer. Not only were their interactions sanctioned; they were planned.
Lawrence couldn't say he was surprised. The reason for it, at least for now, was not evident. It gave him the breath of fresh air he needed to clear his head of Bastien's allure.
He waited for some time, to make sure Anton didn't return, and climbed the stairs to Bastien's room.
"Lawrence," Bastien said, offering him his most charming smile. "What a nice surprise."
Lawrence didn't hesitate to push Bastien into the room and catch his face in his palms so they could kiss. Granted, Bastien must have said the truth about this being more than pleasure, because there was no hesitation on his part, either.
He pushed the door closed with his foot and guided Bastien toward the bed. Though he doubted that Bastien would be in the mood for sausage again after getting plenty of the dish last night, he needed to secure the continuation of the relationship developing between them.
Lies. All lies, of course. Had governments using attractive females to extract information from the enemy ever wondered or worried that their spies might develop feelings for their targets? Lawrence was nothing like a femme fatale, and he didn't find the term suitable for Bastien, either, but they were both sliding down a slippery slope, while each of them wanted to obtain something from the other.
In his case, he wanted the truth. He couldn't speak for Bastien.
But the king's mouth tasted sweet, and his firm hands elicited the most delicious sensations across Lawrence's scalp as they moved slowly.
"You look a little flushed," Lawrence said, pressing Bastien down on the bed.
"You are giving me quite the exercise," Bastien replied.
"And what exercise would that be?"
"An exercise in restraint. Despite my body protesting, other parts of me definitely desire your invasion more than ever."
"Invasion, huh? I like the way you phrase that. But I'm not your enemy." He had to lay that out in the open and let the Sun King do with it whatever he wished.
"What a strange thing to say. Your being an outsider doesn't make you the enemy, knight-errant."
"What does it make me, then?"
Bastien smiled and dropped his eyelashes coquettishly. "Temptation, mainly. The forbidden fruit if you will."
"What kind of fruit am I? Please don't say banana."
The laughter that erupted from that royal throat had the role of a magic incantation. Lawrence seized the turtleneck with his teeth and dragged it down so he could sneak in and suck at Bastien's skin.
"You'll leave me bruised," Bastien complained breathlessly. "I'm already getting looks of disapproval."
"I think you enjoy getting them."
"True," Bastien agreed. "Pain that offers pleasure. There is something about it, isn't there?"
Lawrence hummed in agreement and took Bastien's lips again. Pleasure was a good thing; it was one of the things that made life worth living, so he didn't find it complicated to accept the statement. Only he was swimming in dark waters now, and Bastien's words echoed in his brain. A bit more than pleasure. If it was true for him, as well, what was he supposed to do with that excess once he left this place?
"I'll be trapped with Ali all day long," he said in an apologetic tone, making his forehead touch Bastien's. "I hope you didn't count on me for your Sunday entertainment."
"Oh, I didn't," Bastien said slyly. "And we'll meet later. There is another Sunday tradition at Veridien that you must be introduced to."
Lawrence grunted as Bastien grabbed his ass suddenly. He had strong fingers, but that wasn't it. Simply put, he hadn't even considered that Bastien would be interested in flipping the roles, so to speak. Was that daring touch about such desires?
As unmanly as that was, it gave him a slight trepidation to even think of the possibility.
He'd cross that bridge if they ever reached it. Denying Bastien a personal demand of that nature would require skill, without a doubt. Lawrence didn't plan on losing to a man in that manner, no matter how attractive.
If Bastien also preferred the dominant role, despite his speech on desiring humiliation, that put things in perspective. Every little detail he discovered was meant to help Lawrence in his investigation.
Sexual preferences and whatnot had to have their place as pieces of the larger puzzle, he decided.
Bastien surprised him by flipping him on his back and riding on top of him, making their crotches touch. His eyes were shining, and he looked happy. If it was all an act, it was a pretty good act. But Lawrence tended to believe that Bastien would make the kind of spy who'd enjoy his secret missions involving seducing unaware targets.
"What if I refuse to grant your freedom?"
"I might become the happiest prisoner alive," Lawrence replied in kind, pushing upward to enjoy more of the friction between their bodies. "Ali, however, might become upset. With you more than with me."
"He won't dwell on it," Bastien replied. He leaned over Lawrence, catching his wrists and pressing them against the bed. His slow inhalations had to be part of his arsenal of seduction because they made Lawrence's skin break into goosebumps. "You are so handsome."
Handsome like bread? Lawrence didn't dare to ask. But he didn't mind being bread as far as he remained Bastien's current favorite dish.
And sausage. He needed a reminder, because Bastien didn't hesitate to rub against him until his arousal bordered on painful.
A strong, imperious knock made them jump away from each other. Lawrence was quick to straighten his clothes, while Bastien ran his hands through his hair and pulled his turtleneck higher on his way to the door.
Lawrence walked over to Bastien's CD collection and pretended to be absorbed by perusing it.
"Herr Becker, what an unexpected honor," Bastien said loudly enough to warn Lawrence of the identity of his visitor.
Lawrence moved slowly and at an angle so that he remained obscured from view. If they were lucky enough, the gatekeeper wouldn't walk in.
"The Rector is expecting you for your weekly appointment." Herr Becker seemed to pause for effect. "You didn't forget about it, hopefully, Bastien."
Lawrence reined in an unpleasant jolt with difficulty. He didn't like the way Herr Becker said the Sun King's given name. It was ridiculous and illogical to have such a reaction; but it had an imperious quality that triggered an even stronger response than seeing the stern housemaster molesting Bastien would have.
"Of course," Bastien said solicitously. "I will be there. And no, I will not keep our dear Rector waiting. Now, if you don't mind, I will have to get ready--"
"How are you these days, Bastien? Rumor has it you are seeking the new transfer's acquaintance quite fervently."
"Kindness is a virtue," Bastien replied, his voice lowered.
Strange. Lawrence would have sworn that simple sentence sounded like a threat. Bastien was keeping the door only partially open so Herr Becker couldn't peek into his room and notice the unwanted visitor.
Unwanted by the faculty alone, of course.
"Appearances are important," Herr Becker commented, his voice sharp like an icicle. "Do not forget your place, Bastien. Expectations are high. Do not taint… your pedigree with such involvements."
"Veridien is a lonely place," Bastien said. "Friendships, as fleeting as they may be, are helpful to blunt the edge of a solitary existence."
"You have more friends than you care to have," Herr Becker insisted.
"Friends by design," Bastien shot back.
Lawrence ran a hand over his mouth to hide his grin.
"Everyone you ever met and you will ever meet in this life will seek to secure advantages from their association with you. The young Garth is no exception."
"That may be," Bastien replied. "But simple people offer simple exchanges. It is refreshing for someone like me to have someone like him around."
"Be careful. We will not always turn a blind eye. Your education is important."
"More important than myself?"
"Yes. You will understand later, and you'll be looking fondly back at the years you spent at Veridien."
"Thoughts of the future make many of us nostalgic prematurely, don't they?"
"Goodbye, Bastien. The Rector is expecting you within the hour."
"Farewell, Herr Becker." Bastien closed the door slowly. "And may you kindly rot in hell," he added through his teeth.
His face was all a smile again, as he turned to face Lawrence. Then, his expression changed yet again.
"Please, tell me you don't hate it that I called you simple."
Lawrence snorted. "I'd rather be simple than under Herr Becker's thumb. What was that all about? What does the Rector want with you?"
Bastien shrugged, and his beautiful eyes lost focus for a moment. "Ali made you aware of my unpleasant nickname. Rose Bud."
"Ali's an irreverent prick when he puts his mind to it."
"He isn't the one who gave it to me."
Lawrence puckered his lips and smacked them loudly. "Ali lied to me. Who would've thought? But if he didn't… don't tell me. Was it our dear Rector?"
"Precisely. He believes he must nurture our potential. It is his noble life's goal. Veridien's former pupils are rulers and shapers of the world. I must be no exception."
"Why Rose Bud, though? Too personal, in my opinion."
"Oh, don't think of it as a pet name. Each generation must have its Rose Bud. That is, in the Rector's language, the one student with the greatest potential that can only be realized under the most precise and purposeful supervision. This time, the unlucky recipient of such honor happens to be me."
"He's giving you private tutoring?"
"Yes," Bastien replied after a short moment of hesitation. "I'll go see if Herr Becker is still lurking around. Next time, hide in the bathroom. He never looks there."
"Oh, so there will be a next time," Lawrence said, quirking his lips in a teasing smile.
"Of course, my dear knight-errant." Bastien angled his head to steal a kiss. "Would you have it otherwise?"
The simplest answer was 'no'. Lawrence made the kiss deepen by pressing his lips hard against Bastien's generous mouth.
TBC