No matter how much the staff did not reflect the Second Prince, his station was much higher than theirs so they did not dare disobey. Even though the cooks muttered beneath their breath, the light meal was served on a cart and the ingredients were given to Zane.
Sobering potions did not need much skill or technique to make. If not for the banquet and the extremely busy kitchen, Zane would have asked for a little privacy and ten minutes to make the potion. He had to make do.
When he returned to the Prince's room, it was over thirty minutes since he left. The prince was reclining on an ornate, cushioned chair with a frown on his face. He clutched a goblet of mead, his royal attire was disheveled and he had an air of languor, not to mention the stench of wine that enveloped his being.
He looked up at Zane and an irritated expression flashed in his eyes, "You are late.
Where in the name of the gods have you been?"
