He decided he couldn’t avoid calling on the man forever. So here he was. The double mahogany doors leading into the lavish private quarters of His Royal Highness were swept open by two dark-skinned men dressed in identical flowing emerald-green garbs bounds by thick, red sashes around their waists. The wigged butler in livery announced, “Viscount Banfield, Your Royal Highness.” The wigged butler moved backwards, head bent, until he exited through the doors. Derek’s jaw tightened as he strode against the gleaming white marble that the oil lamps and candelabras illuminated. A line of servants departed the large lapis lazuli colored receiving room. The doors behind him closed, leaving Derek to address the prince alone. He paused at seeing a very good-looking, dark-haired gentleman of deep olive skin tone. The man slowly rose from a chair to greet him, dressed in formal black attire, save a blue silk cravat and blue embroidered waistcoat that amplified the dark coat and trousers he wore.
