Darren patted the man's arm cheerfully. "It's okay, Benny, just tell me if Blayne has already been down here." He strode forward and snaked two peeled oranges from a large bowl on the counter.
"You put them back – those are for my marmalade!" The cook strode forward and snatched the fruit back with a huff. I smiled to myself. The man might be a servant but he was particular about his craft, even around the prince. "And, yes, your insufferable brother has already been down here twice asking if any of us have seen you. He's in quite a tiff, that one, raging about my kitchens and putting everyone in distress even though we have double the food to cook now that the apprentices are here. I told him you were probably with that mutt, he didn't seem too happy about it – and I can see from where you've just come that I was indeed correct."
Darren grinned. "We just missed him."
"Well, he's set to check the training grounds next so you've bought yourself a half hour before he returns."
"Thanks, Benny."
"Thank me by telling me who this young lady is. I must say I like her looks a lot better than that Priscilla who is always insulting my scones."
"This is Ryiah." Darren held my hand tight. "She is – well, let's just say there will be some big changes before I leave."
The man clapped his hands excitedly. "Does this mean…?"
"Don't say anything to the others, don't even think it," Darren warned. "I need to speak with Father first. If he hears a rumor, it will destroy any chance I have of convincing him and you will be stuck with Priscilla forever."
The man drew two fingers across his lips, indicating he would keep silent. "The day that horror can't dictate my scones will be the day I take a wife."
Darren snorted in disbelief. "Well, Ryiah and I had better be off so we don't catch Blayne in one of his moods."
"When is he not? It was nice to meet you, Lady Ryiah. I can tell you that anyone who takes Miss No-More-Raisins-In-My-Scones' place is a welcome addition to my kitchen. Especially such a pretty redheaded one as yourself."
I looked away shyly and Darren elbowed Benedict. "Enough flirting with the lady."
The cook winked at me. "Ohhh, I think he's jealous. Good, you'll need to keep this one on his toes – he gets too sure of himself if there is no one to challenge him."
Darren's gaze slid to me and he grinned. "Oh, she challenges me all right. Since the day we met."
I felt myself blushing from head to toe.
"Until we meet next time, Benny?"
The cook nodded and Darren led me through the back of the servants' hall to the fourth floor of the palace.
"Ryiah?" Darren had just asked me a question.
I startled. "Huh?"
"I said, did you want to see the Council's chamber? Usually it's off limits but I know they are in the war chambers with the commanders and my father right now-"
"Of course I do!" I squealed.
Darren raised both brows, trying to hide a grin. "If I knew I could get that response, I would have done this a lot sooner." He led me down a narrow corridor to the right, and up another flight of stairs past stained windows and powerful tapestries of previous kings. We must have walked another ten minutes before we finally found ourselves in front of an elaborate set of doors, stained black with metal engravings that stated, "Council of Magic: Official Chambers" and then in smaller writing, "Do not interrupt – meetings are by appointment only, please see Artemis to schedule."
"Who's Artemis?"
"One of the palace scribes. She's not a particularly cheerful woman. I wouldn't recommend sitting next to her at any of the dinners if you can help it." He grinned, opening the door slowly to tease me. "Are you ready for-"
"You have no right to enter this chamber! What are your names? Explain yourself at once!"
Darren's hand froze on the door. His face lost all of its color. I peeked over his shoulder and spotted the Three Colored Robes and King Lucius, along with a group of what look liked the king's advisors standing around a map of Jerar and its surrounding territories. Two guards strode forward and Darren swore under his breath. "Run."
The two of us took off, racing down the hall, ducking into random passages as Darren led us on in a mad dash to avoid the two men chasing us. Darren kept changing stairwells and halls so quickly I lost track of where we were.
"Almost – just a little bit further!" Darren turned down a wider hall than the rest. Gold, real gold sconces lit the passage and there was a lush rug padding our steps. I followed, clutching my ribs – I had forgotten how much faster Darren could run; my heart felt like it was about to explode from my racing pulse…
"In here!" The prince turned a key and then yanked me into the room behind him. He threw off his cloak and the wig and tossed them into a trunk at the foot of the bed. At that same moment there was a loud knock on the door. The guards had arrived.
I ducked behind the doorframe and Darren swung open the handle with a bored expression.
"Your highness."
"What is it?"