Page 4 of Randall (The Tenth Step #3)

Darvon

“Darvon?”

“Here, Sylvan.” Darvon poked his head out of his closet to look at the son of Sylvar—his mother’s seneschal—and his favorite cousin.

Maybe that was a stretch since Sylvan was his only cousin.

While Sylvar managed the queen, his eldest managed him.

Plus, Sylvan served as a personal guard, although Darvon felt it unnecessary…

He was pretty fine on his own with his magick.

“Jarrah has sent word… A note…”

Sylvan’s hesitant tone was so unusual that Darvon stopped picking out clothes and exited the closet to peer quizzically at him. “A note?” When offered a folded piece of paper, he snatched it up.

“He left without me?” Darvon fumed. “I’m going to kill him.”

“Your Highness!”

“Not literally, Sylvan.” He huffed. “He expects me to follow and join him at the castle. Wasn’t he banned after the incident?”

“Queen Guenevere sent word that it’s been lifted.”

“Why wasn’t I informed?” Darvon narrowed his eyes, frowning as Sylvan turned away in silence.

He crossed the room and sat in his favorite chair, balancing the note on his thigh before threading his fingers together as he stared out the window without taking in the view.

“A call for all bachelors and maidens from King Sulter, Jarrah’s ban lifted, and now he’s gone on ahead.

What does my brother know? Or perhaps the better question is: what is my brother up to? ”

Darvon’s gaze drifted again to take in Sylvan.

His seneschal stood by another window, his body stiffer than usual.

Most days, Sylvan was chatty, prodding Darvon to meetings, duties, exercise, what have you.

His continued silence unnerved Darvon. It was as if Sylvan knew a secret— “You know something. Look at me.”

Sylvan shook his head, his lips pressing together, refusing to look in Darvon’s direction.

Darvon chuckled as he pushed up from his chair and crossed to stand just behind his friend.

Resting his chin on Sylvan’s right shoulder, he gripped Sylvan’s left arm.

Born only a year or two apart, they’d grown up the best of friends, sometimes enemies, but always they found their way back to each other.

They’d experienced all their firsts together: first kiss, first explorations, first intimacies, but they knew they weren’t mates.

Someone else was out there waiting for them.

Still, they remained close, faithful to their long-standing friendship, so Darvon felt comfortable pushing.

“What did you overhear? What tidbit did your father drop?”

“Not my father.”

“My mother, then…” He slowly spun Sylvan around and held his shoulders. “What did she say?”

Unable to escape Darvon’s inquisition, Sylvan sighed. “Jarrah has met one of his mates.”

Mates? “One?”

With Sylvan’s nod, Darvon paced across the room. Mates. Not Fae mates either, otherwise Mother would have had the nuptials announced already. “Did she say who?”

“A wolf named Quinn, from Pack Valen to the south of us… and there’s a vampire, but I didn’t catch a name.” Sylvan hung his head, a faint blush on his cheeks.

Darvon laughed. Sylvan had a “thing” for bloodsuckers.

His cousin smiled sheepishly, knowing he’d been caught and waving off Darvon’s teasing.

He fell back into his chair. “Well, this puts a new spin on things. Since this ball is to pick husbands and wives for Their Highnesses, and the youngest prince carries Jarrah’s blood, I think we are in for more of an adventure than we originally thought. ”

Sylvan’s head snapped up, and he peered at Darvon. “We?”

Darvon steepled his fingers. “Oh, yes. We. Think of all the vampires you’ll get to meet in the High City.”

Sylvan tapped his lips. “When you put it that way… when do we leave?”

“Tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?” Startled, they turned to stare at Sylvar, standing in the doorway. Neither of them had heard the door open.

Darvon rubbed his forehead. So much for sneaking out. “We’re going after my brother.”

“I should hope so. Her Majesty is waiting to speak with you in the throne room.”

“Alright.” Darvon got up and headed out.

Sylvan followed, but his father stopped him with a hand on his chest. “I need a moment with my son.”

Darvon twisted his lips but nodded. “See he starts packing. I won’t be delayed.” He strode from his room, taking his first steps toward his future.