““Pretty face,’ said Laurent. Then his fingers dropped back to brush Aimeric’s jaw, tilting it up as though for a kiss. Aimeric made a choked sound in response to pain; the bruised flesh under Laurent’s fingers was white. ‘I bet you were a peach of a little boy. A pretty peach. How old were you when you fucked my uncle?’ Damen went still, everything in the tower went very still, as Laurent said, ‘Were you old enough to come?’ ‘Shut up,’ said Aimeric. ‘Did””