Hector Gantelet believed in some things in the depths of his soul. He believed that Yvette Moreau was a beautiful woman who should be sheltered and preserved in her innocence. He believed that his family and everyone who was in the upper classes were better then the poor diseased scum who lived in the lower town. He was convinced that Damien was an insufferable prat.
The first time he met Damien, he had introduced himself as a Gantelet and asked who Damien was. Damien had said something snide that made Yvette giggle, so Hector had to punch him. And then Damien ran away and Hector was scolded for picking a fight.
It still rankled.
Hector and Damien both went into the army. Hector proceded to make good friends with people in Intelligence and attempted to make friends with an eye toward promotion. Damien attempted to memorize the names of his men.
Damien was eventually posted at some dusty little embassy and reports came back that he was doing an excellent job. His men, supposedly, loved him. Eventually, Hector was sent to the same post. Damien was still cheerfull and snide and his troops acted like he was making miracles when he produced a twelve pack of beer.
Hector would mutter about Damien with the guys from Intelligence, and they would complain about their various problems. Then, he heard something shocking.
Yvette was suspected for being a terrorist. Some rebel was captured and babbled while under drugs that Yvette and some soldier friend were doing things against the government. Hector knew that Yvette would never do anything illegal. Never. She was too fair and pure and delicate.
The only soldier friends that Yvette had was Damien. And himself.
Hector decided to protect Yvette by forging a bit of proof. Proof of what he already knew.
It was simplicity itself to get Damien arrested.
Now, if he'd only stop seeing Damien in the streets - that damn smile and the facial scar - that damn cheerfull laugh -