Sticks and Stones...and Marzipan

 
"I thought I'd have an empty bed tonight."
 
"I don't like to go to bed angry." Florian lifted the covers and waited as Ray considered the implied invitation before finally stripping off his clothing and climbing onto the soft mattress. It was late and he was tired. Noir's errand had taken longer than planned and had netted a garnet pendant, but little else.
 
"So you're still angry about this afternoon?" Ray didn't really want to have this conversation but he knew he wouldn't sleep well until the matter was settled. "I wasn't talking about you."
 
"No, you were railing against Major Descoines and the rest of the aristocratic Parisian parasites. Which, by your definition, includes me." Florian thought for a moment and added, "And you. Noel too, I suppose, although he's a bit young to be considered a wastrel."
 
"You're taking the matter too seriously. I was just venting."
 
"Yes, at a group of people that includes all of my relations and peers. A group who don't deserve to be lumped together and dismissed as wastrels any more than you deserve to be regarded as a half-blooded mongrel unfit for your title."
 
The words weren't spoken as cruelly as when Ray had first overheard them at Major Descoines' party, but they cut deep anyway. He turned his head away slightly and avoided Florian's gaze.
 
"Don't turn away." Florian's light touch brought Ray back to him. "There will always be ignorance and cruelty, Ray. We don't have to condone it, or perpetuate it."
 
Florian had only recently become a victim of cruel rumors and speculation. He couldn't know what it was like to grow up as Ray had, doing whatever it took to survive, and being ridiculed and ostracized as a consequence. Ray had developed a thick skin because of it, but sometimes a barb got through.
 
"Laila made you scones for breakfast." Florian's change of topic was a welcome one, although Ray knew it was intended to remind him of the people whose opinions actually mattered. "Only one caught on fire this time and it didn't crack the tile when she dropped it."
 
"A success then." Ray turned fully towards Florian, his mood lightening. "I don't suppose we could slip out for an early breakfast?"
 
"Only if you want scones with jam for dinner. She and Noel bought strawberries at the market and she promised to show Noel how to make jam."
 
Ray groaned, remembering Laila's last attempt at jam making. He'd had to arrange an accident in the pantry to save them all from food poisoning.
 
"Cook is back in two days," Florian reminded him. “Perhaps we should reconsider a dinner invitation or two from those aristocratic Parisian parasites." Florian smiled tightly at the phrase before the smile changed to a grin. "Or…" He turned away, leaning over the edge of the bed and foraging for a moment before emerging triumphantly with a large wicker picnic hamper.
 
"Where did you get this?" Ray demanded as he lifted the lid to find an array of meats, cheeses and bread. There were even plates and silverware along with two bottles of a modest wine.
 
"The market." Florian's delighted grin told Ray that there was more to the story.
 
"How did you get this past Laila?"
 
"I didn't say I went to the market with Laila."
 
"You've lived in this house for nearly two years and still get lost going to the bookseller's three streets away." Ray's face was a study in skepticism.
 
"I didn't say I went to market alone. I just didn't go with Laila and Noel."
 
Ray's eyes narrowed as he considered the lavish assortment of foodstuffs in the basket, his mind working overtime to decide which of Florian's friends might be wanting to spend more time with him.
 
"Stop that," Florian said with a laugh as he reached into the basket and withdrew a small tin of marzipan. Ray made a face at the sight of Florian's favorite treat.
 
"Won't you at least try one?" Florian asked sweetly. "My companion in the market picked them especially for you." He opened the tin and held it out for Ray's inspection. Ray laughed at the sight of the offering, then shook his head in surrender and took one.
 
He didn't usually eat marzipan, but this time he'd make an exception – seeing as how Solomon had gone to the trouble of finding sweets in the shape of little black cats.
 
::end::
 

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