Page 62 of An Enigma for the Lycan Crown Prince
I gaze at him. “No,” I mutter. “I don’t. Geneva just made it sound like I have one, because she is nice. But the fact is that with my father involved and with the council involved, I have to accept the beta my dad picked for all the reasons they emphasized… his name, his rank, his upbringing.”
“They don’t think I’m enough, huh?”
“No, they think your name isn’t enough,” I say, annoyed at the whole situation and that I can’t change how our world is run.
“Then, let's work our asses off,” Vincent says to my surprise. “For a future in which a young alpha like you has a choice.”
Vincent and I briefly nod at each other before we walk into a high-end French restaurant to meet Calvin. It doesn’t take melong to spot him; he oozes the power and confidence a lycan, with his standing and experience, should have.
He stands up when we approach him, bowing in front of us. “Prince Elden,” he says, “and Beta Vincent.”
“Dude!” Vincent exclaims. “He knows my name!”
“Of course.” Calvin looks up at us. “I did my research.”
We all sit down again. “And what did your research tell you?” Vincent asks.
“That you are an interesting young man with lots of promising talents,” Calvin says in a matter-of-fact tone.
I let my gaze wander over him. The picture didn’t do him justice. He is an attractive man and looks much more approachable than I thought he would. However, he comes off as slightly awkward and stiff and doesn’t smile much. He doesn’t sound mean, just neutral, but he seems to have very good manners and is very polite to both Vincent and me. One striking feature is his eyes; his pupils don’t dilate much, and he barely blinks.
Vincent keeps the conversation going and asks a lot of questions. To my surprise Calvin answers them all willingly. He can hold a conversation well and asks questions in return. I’m surprised, because in Samuel’s documents it said that one doctor evaluated him and even came up with a diagnosis. I’m by far no psychiatrist and I only did minimal research after reading Calvin’s file, but everything he does is close to perfect.
Maybe it’s his IQ. People with high IQs often struggle in other areas.
“Man, I wish I could read the menu,” Vincent says. “It’s all in French.”
“They should have an English one, too,” Calvin says.
“Do you come here a lot?” I ask him.
“It’s my first time here,” Calvin says. “Alpha Caelum suggested it. The place is too fancy for me.”
“I was about to say the same,” I chuckle.
“If it’s too fancy for you two, you can only imagine how I feel,” Vincent points out.
Calvin smiles as if he is relieved at our reaction. “I can help with the menu,” he offers.
“Finally, one of you offered and spared me the embarrassment of asking for an English menu.” Vincent sighs in relief.
With Vincent’s lighthearted comments, the tension around us lessens, and I find myself relaxing. Calvin probably won’t become my type of person, not like Vincent, but he is respectful and accommodating. He didn’t judge Vincent for his lower status, no snide comments, not even a hint about him not being royal.
As the waitress approaches us with our drinks, she stumbles, knocking our beverages over and spilling them over me and Calvin. She panics and starts apologizing. Calvin looks annoyed, but obviously tries to keep his cool while he grabs some tissues and hands them to me. “What about you?” I ask.
“You are clearly the priority, Pri-“
“Okay, okay,” Vincent jumps in, saving Calvin from saying anything that hints on who we are. He smiles dashingly at the waitress. “It can happen, please don’t worry. Could you find a place where these two young gentlemen can clean up?”
“Of course,” she stammers. “Please follow me.”
“Young gentlemen?” I ask him.
“I thought you would like that,” he grins.
“Let’s go,” I say to Calvin, following the waitress to the restrooms.
“It’s for the staff,” she says. “No one will come in to disturb you. I apologize once more.”
