Laurent made no move toward the vase, but neither did he make any move toward Damen. He stood just as he was and, though little shown on his face, Damen could see the tense of his shoulders beneath his coat, the hard edge of his jaw and sharp of his eye.

'Aimeric,' he echoed, the name not one he had thought upon in many, many months. His memories of the boy's appearance were rather vague, but his position amongst Laurent's men, he remembered well. 'He's the one I advised you to watch,' he said then, recalling a long-ago conversation. 'I was worried about his affect on the other men.'

Still frowning, he tipped his head then, eyes still locked on Laurent. How this had anything to do with the shattered vase, Damen couldn't guess. 'Why?'