Laurence walked forward along the long palace corridor. It was semi-dark, after sunset, his way lit by small lanterns hanging on the walls. Despite this, he could clearly see how the bright walls were covered with detailed decorations, making the usual passage from room to room seem like a journey through a place filled with splendor and prosperity. In fact, it was like that - royal palaces were always supposed to show superiority over ordinary, gray inhabitants and intimidate those who set foot in them.

Lawrence quickened his pace, the quiet sound of his bare feet echoing through the empty corridor. In his hand he held a sketchbook he hadn't drawn in today. He couldn't, not after hearing from the servants that his husband had returned to the country. He didn't know him well - they'd been engaged as children for political reasons and had seen each other literally three times. The first introduction and betrothal when he was about eight, remembering they didn't get along. His fiancé hadn't been interested in nature or poetry, preferring swordplay and guard training over paying attention to him.

He stopped in front of the chamber door and bit his lip. All this time, this had been his chamber - his safe place to hide - but that had been taken from him. When he entered now, the man would already be there. No longer his safe haven, now it was the chamber of the future king and his husband. Taking a deep breath, the prince pushed open the door and entered.