"What? August left? Where?" Sylvian asked with a frown.
The servant shook his head. "His Highness departed at dawn, Your Highness. I was not informed of his destination."
He was carrying a large wicker basket laden with freshly folded bedsheets and heavy drapes, and after answering, he bowed before continuing down the corridor.
Sylvian watched him leave, his expression thoughtful. He had intended to see August before departing for the capital, but now he wondered where his half-brother could have gone so early in the morning.
Still pondering the matter, Sylvian walked farther down the corridor and stepped into the open loggia overlooking the manicured gardens. He rested his hands against the stone balustrade and gazed across the grounds.
"Where could he have gone so early?" he murmured.
A soft clearing of a throat interrupted his thoughts.
Sylvian turned and found Louis standing a few paces away, his hands folded respectfully before him.
"Greetings, Prince Sylvian."
