Page 10 of Prince of the Northwest Forest
Martin starts to nibble on a rhododendron, but I tsk. “That will give you indigestion.”
He sighs and moves back from the plant, his rack getting tangled in an overgrown ornamental fir. “Yes, Your Highness. We’ll wait for you.”
“Thanks.”
I push open the hotel door and step inside, then pull back my hood so I can scan the interior. Red carpet leads to a front desk. Large vases line the walls.
I stride to the desk. A kindly-looking woman with a round face and graying short dark brown hair turns to me. “May I help you?”
“I’m here …” I pause, not knowing how exactly to proceed. “I had heard that this hotel has certain arrangements available for, um, certain kinds of?—”
“Royalty?”
I incline my head. “Yes.”
“Do you have any identification?”
Firecats. “Actually …”
She smiles. “We can work with you if you don’t have it. What is your name?”
I clear my throat. “It’s Kalle.”
She gives me a look not unlike some my mother gives me—like she has no time for fools.
I’m doing my best to be subtle, but I get the feeling that I’m not going to be able to hide anything from this woman. So I murmur, “I’m Prince Kalle Hammarskjöld of the Northwest Forest, but I’d like to keep my identity on a need-to-know basis, if possible. At least for now.”
“Fair enough. And what brings you to the Renversé Hotel?”
Is there a reason to hide the truth from her? Not if I want her to help me. “I’m looking for my brother.”
“Who is your brother?” she asks.
“Mats. Or, rather, Prince Mats Hammarskjöld of the Northwest Forest.”
The woman lowers her voice. “Well,Kalle, no one has checked in by the name of Mats Hammarskjöld. Could you describe him?”
“He’s twenty. Slightly shorter than me, perhaps six feet tall and a little leaner. He’s got dark brown hair that’s shorter than mine,” I gesture to below my ears, “and dark brown eyes.”
“So he looks like you, only smaller?”
“Basically.”
“While a few people who match that description are staying here—dark hair, six foot, lean—none look like you.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Okay. I thank you for your time.” I hesitate. Should I just go back home or stick to the plan?
The woman studies me intently. “Would you like to take advantage of our room-and-board arrangements for runaway royals?”
“Oh, I’m not running away. Would I still be eligible?”
I want to stay. I want to experience life outside of the castle. I’ve left before, but never on my own. Never open-ended like this.
“Of course.” She starts clicking on a computer. “We have positions open in housekeeping, grounds maintenance, the laundry, bellhop?—”
“What does grounds maintenance require?” I ask.
“Mowing lawns, trimming shrubs, telling the gophers to take a hike …”
