[Closed Post: Baklava]

[timebethine]

Laertes delights in the many spices of the Mansion's kitchens--he lost several hours one evening just opening every bottle and smelling it, acquainting himself with the differences between cardamom and allspice, sage and bay. Today, he is intent upon celebrating those spices with a baklava recipe he's found, and so he's roped Sagramore into serving as his sous-chef. While Laertes prepares the dough to laminate, he sets Sagramore to chopping nuts up finely. "This recipe saith walnuts," he says, "but another hath pistachios, and a third one walnuts and almonds mixed."

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[timebethine]

Laertes laughs and levers up a piece for himself, letting syrup run down his fingers. He bites into it. "Well," he says around a mouthful of baklava, "At least it's not too soft."

[sagramore]

Sagramore laughs. "It came out very well. It's supposed to be like this. A mess of a thing."

[timebethine]

"I begin to suspect thou likest a mess," Laertes teases.

[sagramore]

"Thou wilt have all my secrets from me, sir."

[timebethine]

"Here's one for today--what was thy favorite food, when thou wert a child?"

[sagramore]

"In Hungary we have a plant called paprika. The fruit is made into a powder and put in very nearly everything." The mansion deigns not to translate paprika, which is helpful, since it's just Hungarian for pepper. "When she could get away with it, my nurse would make me something called halászlé, which is a soup with a great deal of paprika in it. It's spicy."

[timebethine]

"I'll learn to make it," Laertes promises. "And thou wilt school me until it tastes as fine as thou rememberest."

[sagramore]

He laughs again. "And thee? What did Laertes like as a child?"

[timebethine]

Laertes laughs, a touch self-conscious. "Marchpane," he says. "Honey cake with apricot jam--even sweet, thick cream."

[sagramore]

"Sweets to the sweet," he teases.

[timebethine]

Laertes bumps his elbow. "And spice to what? The hot?"

[sagramore]

"Christ have mercy. I did invite that, and even so it offends me." Just to be sure Laertes knows he's joking, he presses a quick kiss to his temple.

[timebethine]

"I deserve it," says Laertes solemnly, but he can't quell the mirth in his eyes. "What thinkest thou? Should we keep our bounty for ourselves, or share it with our friends?"

[sagramore]

"With Lady Tress at least. And Nina."

[timebethine]

"And Queen Janet, and Claudius--and Jasin?"

[sagramore]

"Didst thou meet Jasin?" his mouth tugging into a smile that is fonder than he realizes.

[timebethine]

"Ay, we played together. He's very kind, but ..." Laertes searches a moment for the word "... distant," he decides at last. "As though he sees all the world at a remove."

[sagramore]

"Hmm." His expression is soft, and he says, "He doesn't seem so removed to me. But he is kind."

[timebethine]

"Is he one of thy lovers?" Laertes asks.

[sagramore]

Sagramore considers. He's so used to keeping the joys of his lovers to himself, but he's trusted Laertes with a thousand other things already and Laertes has never done anything that might damage that trust in any particular. As well he thinks Laertes is observant enough to have worked out the truth it already.

So he says, "Aye. Nearly as long as thee, though I knew him longer."

[timebethine]

"Hast thou others here?" Himself, Claudius, and Jasin makes three; when he'd arrived here, that would have seemed like a prodigious number of lovers.

[sagramore]

"Thou wilt tell no one, and none of them," he says, although he already knows what Laertes is going to say; it still bears saying.

[timebethine]

"My lips are sealed; thou hast the key of them."

[sagramore]

That promise made, a grin overtakes him, boyish in its delight. "Queen Janet."

[timebethine]

"Queen Janet!" he says, a whispered shout; his eyes are bright with glee. "Thou art a braver man than I."