Page 41 of Crown of Steel

There are no iron bars here.

Dad calls me useless, swears that my mother will throw me back into my old life any time now, and I know I can just hang up, knowing that he can’t get to me. I know that. But I don’t feel it. It’s engraved in my past—that inked cross meant to make me remember. Degradation. Punishment.

No freedom.

When he hangs up on me, raging and frustrated, we still officially have two more minutes. I know he can still call me back later, he sometimes does, and perhaps that’s why I feel even more vulnerable, and agitated. My earlier state of elation is long gone. The corridor is too narrow, the paintings too close, with faces, so many of them, watching me, taunting me.

I need to get out.

Out.

When I practically stumble into someone, I flinch. It’s Dominique, and he eyes me cautiously. “Hey, Régis, are you alright?”

Rubbing my eyes, I grumble, “Yes, I’m fine. A little tired.Happy that the weekend has begun.” The lie rolls easily off my tongue. “If you don’t mind, I really want to—”

“I think you should come down with me.” He eyes our dorm, then looks back at me. “Let’s grab a drink in the canteen, yeah?”

“Sorry, I’m just going to lounge a bit.” I slip past him and grab my keys from my pocket.

“Régis, come on.” He’s followed me back to our dorm. Trepidation wins from my earlier enthusiasm, and in kicks the claustrophobia. My thoughts tumble.

“Régis!”

“Espèce de merde.”

The door bursts open and bangs against the wall, making me freeze on the threshold. All gazes turn to me.

Lounging on both couches are the twins. Louis is still in his football gear, long, muscled legs unfurled as he occupies the entirety of the sofa. Arthur’s on the other one, his laptop and books lying next to him, his arms crossed behind his head and his legs pulled up against his chest. Next to them, on one of velvet armchairs, sits Gaël, crossed legged, inspecting different kinds of oils from a shipping box. Soft music is playing, but I can’t hear what it is since blood is pumping so loudly in my ears. Their chatter dies on the spot.

“There he is,” Louis exclaims, a little too cheerful. “Our little, lost s-bro. We were just talking about you.” He taps his foot on the seat of the couch. “Haven’t seen you for ages. Come and sit with us. After all, the weekend has begun.” He wiggles his brows, and something pangs in my chest. It’s tonight’s events.

Behind me Dominique enters the room, and by the sound of it, Maxime’s right on his tail, as he babbles enigmatically with his bright voice.

Louis seems pleased with himself when I amble my way toward his couch, but at least he has the decency to pull away his feet so I can sit. Lithe as a cat he climbs off his seat and peddles toward the kitchen. “Finally all together. Now there’s areason to celebrate.” He reaches for the fridge and takes out a bottle of champagne. I recognize the label immediately.

“I didn’t know you’d be the kind of guy who enjoys celebrations with a cheap bottle of drink,” I mutter bitterly, remembering that comment all too well.

A short silence follows, in which Louis looks genuinely flabbergasted. Gaël snickers and I feel a nerve tick in my jaw, but refuse to look away. It isn’t until Arthur snorts out a laugh that I’m seriously caught off guard. My trepidation returns in full force. I think…I think I made a wrong move.

I catch him winking at Gaël, who spreads his arms to welcome Dominique who swipes the tiny bottles of oil from Gaël’s lap and straddles his sculpted thighs. Our gazes meet—his cheeks flush, probably from this public display of affection, matching my own awkwardness from being caught staring in the first place. But then he smiles at me, and it breaks the tension. For some inexplicable reason it feels like a heavy weight is taken off of my deflating shoulders and I can breathe. I don’t know if it’s because of him, or because of Maxime who has a natural gift of being so casual. So…nice. Even as he inspects the bottle of champagne with a suspicious frown. “Uhm, I wouldn’t call a 2010 Rothschild cheap.”

Licking my lips, I decide to keep it quiet for now. Which is the right thing to do, because Louis swaggers back, another bottle in his hands.

“It's a private joke, my man.” He winks at me, looking amused. “A family joke. Right, Régis?”

“Sure,” I grumble, and that causes another wave of laughter, that even…yeah, even makesmesmile. Though I still wonder if he’s fucking with me.

”There we go.” Louis opens both bottles in two rapid pops. “Since we can’t walk on one leg.” He offers me a glass, but right when I want to take it, he pulls it back. “Or do you prefer drinking straight from the source?” He laughs at his own joke,but before I can come up with a snarky answer, he hands the glass over. “Just kidding.”

“You’re awfully funny tonight, Louis.” Maxime joins me on the couch. He has already exchanged his school uniform for a more casual look of sweats and a hoodie.

“I know. It’s because I’m happy we’re all together.” Someone switches on some music and I watch as Louis walks around the room, topping up glasses as he offers a casual reply or joke here and there. I’m still unsure if he’s messing with me.

From what I’ve begun to understand, people often can’t tell the twins apart. It’s true that they have an identical build and physical appearance. They even have a similar swagger and overall confident way they carry themselves. They’re devilishly smug with their dark, twinkling eyes and lush, full lips. When I first met them, I wasn’t sure who was who, though that changed rapidly. The difference, for me, is in the air. Louis gives off this electricity, waves of snapping energy. He demands attention. Arthur, however, radiates a soothing balm edged in darkness. There’s a false sense of softness tinged with a promise of challenge. When I’m around Louis, I feel like he might trick me, but he is otherwise innocent. I definitely don’t feel attracted to him. When I’m around Arthur though, a sensation finds its way around me, blanketing me with arousal and desire.

“Jo says that the football team will finally play in the local competitions this year?” Maxime asks.

Louis smiles. “We will be. It has been ages since we were out there, but with some good new players, Coach believes we have what it takes to make regional again. We don’t really have what it takes, but most of the guys are not that ambitious anyway. We just want to play.”

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