Page 77 of Heart of the High King
“Thanks.”
It only took her a couple of minutes to return with the paper, which he folded lengthwise and slid into the front pocket of his denim jacket. Out in the waiting room, he took a seat. The Office of the Emperor was too far of a distance for him to manage, so he had no choice but to call Dra’Kaedan. Rafe hated to ask for help, but he wasn’t supposed to teleport more than twice a day, so he was going to need his wheelchair to get to his appointment. Thankfully, the Grand Warlock was happy to assist him. Rafe explained where he needed to go, and Dra’Kaedan told him it would only take him a few minutes to change into his suit and crown. That was fine since Rafe still had to get to the Dérive teleportation area to meet them.
The Grand Warlock and the Grand Duke were already waiting for him when he arrived. Mortis loped over and got pets from both men as Rafe transferred into his wheelchair.
“I can send the walker to your room if you want,” Dra’Kaedan offered.
“I hope I’m born a sorcerer next time,” Rafe mused as his walker disappeared.
“What’s that in your pocket?” Brogan asked.
Rafe scowled. “I have a special diet. It’s a printout of my restrictions. I need to give it to Noirin and Kendrick.”
Brogan plucked it from his pocket and read as Rafe got his wheelchair into motion. “Why didn’t you tell them before? Has eating been making you sick?” he asked, walking just behind Rafe and Mortis with his mate.
“Kind of.”
“Like how bad?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m not going to be able to eat shit I like anymore.”
When they finally made it out of the hospital and to Council Headquarters, Rafe’s arms were burning, and he was exhausted. The fallen knights cheerfully got them through security without incident. Rafe’s luck ran out at the one manned by titled dragons, which was the last barrier between him and Their Majesties.
“Sir, where is your Draconis sash?”
“Your Grace, he’s not Draconis,” Brogan stated. “He’s D’Vaire.”
“That’s not what his identification card says, Your Grace.”
“Shit,” Brogan muttered, then turned back to the straight-faced duke. “His Highness hasn’t had time yet to take care of that; he’s a recent addition to the High Court.”
“Please ask His Highness to get that switched to make sure Mr. D’Vairedraconis doesn’t have future problems with security. He needs a sash as well, Your Grace.”
“Of course, we’ll take care of that as soon as we get home. Thank you, Your Grace.”
“Dammit, Aleksander,” Brogan groused quietly as they got into the elevator. Once they were out and Brogan explained the missing sash to yet another dragon, they finally made it to Niko’s desk. The Royal Duke-mate greeted them with a bright smile and came around to give them hugs, including Mortis, who licked the kind man’s face, which made Niko laugh.
“You guys can go on in,” Niko said after he picked up the phone and spoke to whoever was on the other end.
Rafe was exhausted, in pain, and didn’t particularly want to share his business with Dra’Kaedan and Brogan, but perhaps he could get them out after they greeted Their Majesties. When he slowly rolled his tired ass into the stunning office that housed their leaders, the royals were just as happy to see them as Niko had been, and Rafe was humbled by their enthusiasm.
“We got two calls from security for your missing sash and one for the incorrect identification card,” Damian stated. “What’s going on at D’Vaire?”
“I’m going to talk to Aleksander as soon as we get home. We’ll get it cleared it up,” Brogan promised.
“It’s unlike Aleksander to miss details,” Chrysander said. “Is he the reason I also got an angry call from Dr. Suricata?”
“No, that’s my fault. I didn’t tell anyone I had dietary restrictions,” Rafe responded.
“Let’s get this straightened out, okay? There’s no reason for you to be at D’Vaire now for over a week and have your identification card incorrect. As for your diet, you’ve got enough issues, don’t add to them, Rafe,” Chrysander said. “Now, what can we do for you?”
“I hate to ask this,” Rafe said to Dra’Kaedan and Brogan. “Can I speak to Their Majesties privately?”
“Absolutely,” Dra’Kaedan responded, hopping to his feet.
“You guys can wait in the conference room if you want,” Zane offered.
“Forget that, we’re going to hang out with your mate,” Dra’Kaedan said and the pair went into the attached workshop where Tiri ran his textile business.
