Page 5 of Prince of the Northwest Forest
Where do you go when you disappear, Mats?
I look longingly at my books. Should I bring a favorite, or is that too much to carry? I bite my lip, then select a spicyCinderellaretelling set in space.
A knock sounds at my door, and I look up to see my youngest brother, Einar. He must be done with his sword-fighting lesson. “Hey,” I say. “How are you?”
“Where are you going?” Einar demands, rather than answering me. His dark hair is overgrown, and he’s wearing a linen shirt and tan breeches with boots.
“I’m going to Princedelphia. Mats is missing. Do you know where he went?”
Einar shakes his head so fast that it makes me suspicious. I stare at him, but he doesn’t back down. Maybe he doesn’t know more than he’s letting on.
Although if I find out Mats actually did go to the Fae Realm …
I’ll just wait and ask around at the hotel. If he’s gone outside the Northwest Forest—which is likely, since no one here has mentioned that they’ve seen him—the people there might be more likely to know his location.
“All right,” I say, ruffling Einar’s hair. He huffs and backs away. At sixteen, he doesn’t want to be considered a kid, but it’s hard not to still think of him that way. “Have fun while I’m gone. Protect Mother and Father.”
He nods. “I will.”
Risteárd, my sleek North American beaver assistant, enters in a rush, his broad tail flat against the rug. He adjusts his glasses and glances around anxiously. “Are you prepared for your outing, Your Highness?”
I glance around. “I think so. I’m not sure.”
“I will worry about you.” If he could wring his hands, he would.
Einar smiles at him. “Kalle can do anything, Ris. You know that.”
“His Royal Highness is quite competent, this is true,” Risteárd says with a sigh.
“Still, I appreciate your concern,” I say.
He bows low. “We will be happy to bring you anything you need, Your Highness. Just send a woodpecker. Or whatever bird you can find.”
“I will.” I fix the hood of my cloak over my head, ensure my sword is properly strapped to my side, and sling my satchel over my shoulder. After giving Einar a quick hug, I walk out to the entry hall. I signal to Hazel and Martin, who come and join me.
It’s time to find my brother.
Chapter Two
JUSTICE
It’s the late afternoon lull in Café Magnifique. I’m almost done for the day, so I’d better make myself useful and leave the place tidier than I found it. Mom always says to do that.
I weave around the worn wooden tables, wiping them down with a sanitizing rag and pushing in the mismatched chairs. The air smells like coffee—delish—and a few groups of college kids are studying off to the side. Edison bulbs glow from the ceiling.
I should refill this empty napkin dispenser … and that one, too. Okay, and that one. I pile the metal boxes in my arms and give the area a once-over.
Looks better.
I glance at my best friend, Daryl, who’s standing by the cash register. Behind him hangs a chalkboard listing the menu items—mostly drinks, with some pastries and lighter fare. His dark brown eyes are gazing off into the middle distance. All the customers have been served, so he’s not ignoring anyone.
I clamp my lips together, biting back a smile, walk over to the counter, and set down the dispensers.
He doesn’t move, so I assume he’s still staring at … something. Pretty sure it’s not the café tables I just cleaned. Soit’s more like he’s staring at someone. Probably the handsome guy wearing green walking outside. A guy I’ve seen before.
I come closer and clear my throat right behind Daryl, and he startles, spinning around to glare at me with a hand on his hip. He runs a hand through his short dark hair and huffs. “Dude, what’s your problem?”
I wiggle my eyebrows at him and say in a singsong voice, “A little birdie told me that you have a crush.”
