Blake stared up at the taller boy as he was greeted. He could see the urge in the boy and felt in his own body. The noble wanted to hug the other, but it was very apparent that would not be alright. Perhaps the servants in this market would begin to gossip. After all, it would be simple for people to identify the boys. Blake with his trademark red Boivin hair would easily give away his identity. Dee with his mis-matched eyes would also be very obvious to gossipers who he was. In fact, it was probably already gossip that the squire and the Boivin boy were close friends. What gossip that would be all by itself. Blake was known for being slightly isolated in his friendships and never interacted with those lower than a noble. For him to spend his time with a squire, even if it was a noble squire, was out of character.
Frowning at Dee’s wink, Blake crossed his arms. He was glad to be rid of the flower, “She was just a peasant.” He wasn’t about to tell Dee that he had stolen the flower. Unconsciously, Blake moved closer to Dee when the hand rested upon his shoulder. He glanced down at his bleeding hand when it was taken up. A soft blush appeared on his cheeks. He almost pulled his hand away but it was let go before he could. Pressing his fingers against the bleeding wound, he pouted at Dee’s words. He didn’t like being equivocated with five-year old female hands. His anger was merely playful and his blush darkened when Dee whispered.
He glanced off to the side, looking at the market booths. Blake glanced down at a peasant selling rather poorly made necklaces. Looking back at Dee, his pout disappeared when the topic was changed. A soft giggle left his lips at the teenage-like joke. He hid the giggle behind his fingers. Blake nodded, affirming Dee’s words, “I know, they are, aren’t they? It’s really hideous, you know?” He moved closer to Dee, “My mother says she stopped living in the same room as my father because he refused to stop treating dirty peasants. She said that in effect, he’s become just as dirty.” The boy paused for a moment, wondering how Dee would react to such words against Galen. He hoped it would act in his own favor. Not allowing Dee to respond to it, he quickly moved the subject on. Grabbing onto Dee’s arm, he pulled the other closer. He went on his tiptoes a bit so that he could easily whisper in the other’s ear, “If you feel dirty from being here, we could go back to my house and I could clean you.” His voice was low and his tone alone made it very clear what he was implying.