Page 15 of Heart of the High King
“Do you think you may grow bored cooking for such a small crowd when you had plans for life in restaurants?” Worth asked.
“Right now, I can’t imagine it, but there’s nothing that says I can’t open one. I can hire an executive chef and still be here with Noir. But I have to say, I don’t have any complaints living in this big magical bubble, and I’m not looking for anything beyond the house for now.”
“We’re here for you if you want to look into doing that,” Aleksander assured him. “We can help with resources or contacts. Whatever you need.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go and help Noir get lunch started.”
Once Kendrick left the office, Worth grinned. “He practically skipped out of here. So lovely to see a man so in love with his mate. And with our exquisite and strong-hearted Noir.”
“If there was ever going to be a queen of D’Vaire, she’s it,” Aleksander confessed.
Brogan’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “There will be a queen of D’Vaire. High Queen D’Vaire or D’Vairedraconis, depending on her race. Your mate.”
Surprised at himself for saying something so telling, Aleksander deflected immediately. “As I’m reminded constantly, I never leave the house, and the likelihood of another mate knocking on the door is slim to none. I might not ever find my other half.”
Worth rolled his eyes dramatically. “I’ve all the faith in the world we’ll both find our mates. Don’t turn into a sad sack on me, Aleksander. My overly caffeinated self can’t handle it.”
∞∞∞
“I still don’t understand why I’m going with you,” Rafferty complained, climbing out of the car. Neil peeled away from the curb so fast, Rafferty barely got the door closed before he took off.
“I already explained it a million times, Paunchy, so leave off,” Sullivan retorted. They walked toward a sign for a magical teleportation area owned by the druidic company, Dérive.
“Kendrick and I don’t know each other.”
Sullivan glared but Rafferty stopped him on the sidewalk. “You aren’t there for Kendrick. I’m going to make nice with our brother while you find a way to get friendly with the High King. And try to not be yourself, okay?”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“Just that there. All you do is scowl, ask questions, and complain. Be nice. Be cordial. Pretend he’s a woman you want to seduce and get to know him.”
“This is a stupid plan.”
“I’m still the first duke, so watch your mouth. Rafferty, remain calm. All will be well, you’ll see. Make a new friend. Use the knowledge you’ve learned, and give our king an ally so our court can prosper. If you fail, you’re letting all of us down. Now come on, we need to get a move on.”
Not sure how he was going to make an ally, but knowing he’d never refuse an order or do anything to embarrass Court Kestle or its king, Rafferty followed his brother up to the door and purposefully relaxed his facial muscles so he wasn’t glowering. They went up to a desk, and Sullivan spoke to the woman manning it while Rafferty gave himself a pep talk so he could manage the task already overwhelming him. A door swung open and a man a couple of inches shorter than Rafferty strode to them with a device in his hands.
“Hello, Your Graces, I’m Filbert. If you’ll hand me your identification cards, I can take you to the Dérive station in Arizona.”
“If you know who we are, why do you need our cards? Duke Sullivan just checked us in at the desk.”
Sullivan elbowed Rafferty in the ribs as he handed Filbert his card.
“We have to scan every person we teleport in case they don’t arrive at the correct destination when the spell is cast,” Filbert explained.
“I’m sorry, what?” Sullivan asked.
Filbert grinned. “Just a little druid humor. It’s for recordkeeping purposes only, I promise.”
“Give him your card, Rafferty.”
Yanking it from his wallet, Rafferty did as he was told. “Thanks,” he muttered once Filbert returned it.
“I thought I heard somewhere that you druids all had plant names or something,” Sullivan said. “Isn’t that what you told me, Rafferty?”
“Many modern druids, is what I read,” Rafferty explained quietly.
“Follow me,” Filbert coaxed, and they walked into a large area with a slightly padded floor. “It’s a great tradition, and Filbert is a plant. It’s another name for the American hazelnut tree. Ready to go?”
