Page 169 of The Prince of Broken Crowns

“Sounds good, Mads.” He sounds like he’s tolerating me.

I resist a heavy sigh and peer around while he orders for himself and then pays the barista. She takes his name, and it’s obvious she doesn’t know who he is, which makes me wonder if she’s from northside, or perhaps an out-of-towner. After that, we head over to a table and sit down to wait for our food.

My gaze travels around the bookshelves, and my mind floats back to when I saw Finn and Eli seemingly vanish through a wall.

“I wonder if this library has any secret passages,” I remark, partly joking.

But River has a serious expression as he rests his arms on the table and leans toward me. “There are actually rumors that it does, but I’ve never seen them or know anyone who’s seen them, so it could be merely a legend.”

“Oh.” I slant back in the chair. “I was actually joking, but now I’m intrigued. Should we go look for one?”

Confused amusement sparkles in River’s eyes. “You want to go look for a secret passage?”

“Sure. Why not?” I shrug and smile as I get to my feet. “We can do it while we wait for our food.”

River is beyond amused as he stands up and rounds the table. “Okay, lead the way.”

My smile widens as I start toward the closest row of bookshelves with River trailing closely behind me. I head toward the back wall where more bookshelves are. Once I reach the area, I grind to a stop and tap my finger against my bottom lip. “So, which one of these books do you think opens the secret passage?” I assess the selections then tug on a thick, leather-bound book.

Nothing happens, and I’m mildly disappointed.

“Did you really think that was going to work?” River teases me while gently bumping his shoulder against mine.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” To be honest, I didn’t, but it’s kind of fun pretending. Besides … “This place is huge, with a ton of books; who knows what secrets are hiding behind these walls.” I grin.

He mirrors my smile. “You want to tug on some more books then?”

“Oh, absolutely.” I’m partly joking, but I pull on the nearest book, anyway.

River does the same with his eyes on me. We do that a few more times, and nothing happens. But at least we’re smiling.

After we’re done, we collect a stack of books that may contain some answers to what exactly happened with the Everfords. By the time we’re stacking the books on our table, the barista is calling out River’s name.

“I’ll go get our food,” he tells me then walks over to the counter.

I watch him, biting on my bottom lip as I check out his ass. Then I shake my head and focus on the books because: what the heck is wrong with me? Have I lost my ability to have any self-control?

River returns a handful of minutes later and sets the coffees and sandwiches down. I have a book open and am skim-reading a page about how royals came to be. Sure, it doesn’t have anything to do with what we’re looking for, but it is interesting.

“Dude, did you know that the original royal families became wealthy because they killed a bunch of people?” I peer up at River as he takes a seat beside me. “I mean, it was a long time ago, but still, it’s kind of messed up.”

He unwraps his sandwich. “Will you think less of me if I say I already knew that?”

I shake my head. “No, you didn’t kill anyone. Besides, sometimes I think you don’t even like being a royal.” I direct my gaze back to the book but glance at him a moment later when I can feel him watching me. “What?”

“It’s nothing.” The way he’s staring at me, though, doesn’t appear to portray that it’s nothing.

“I feel like you’re lying to me, bro.” I keep my tone light so he knows I’m not upset. I’m simply stating a fact.

“It really is nothing.” He reaches for a book. “I was just thinking about how it seems like you’re the only person who really sees me.” He clears his throat as he grabs a book and opens it up in front of him.

I do the same, attempting not to think about how right he truly is, that out of all the people I’ve met, River is the one who seems to get me—a royal. I’m unsure how this happened.

Now I’m the one to clear my throat. “And vice versa.” I leave it at that and start reading again.

He does the same, seemingly on the same page as I am—not literally but metaphorically.

We remain quiet for a while, the sound of pages flipping filling up the air. We eat while we research and, every so often, when I reach for my coffee, he extends his hand toward his own, and our fingers brush. It happens so many times that it becomes comical, and I snort a laugh. River chuckles. Then, with a smile, he returns his focus back to the book.

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