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Padding down the steps, I stop on the first floor and knock on Victoriana’s door. She doesn’t answer, so I fire off a quick text telling her I’m going out. I try to be a responsible roommate when I’m here. Then I head down the back stairs, stopping on the bottom step to slide my shoes on and grab my jacket. Unlike the formal front hall, this entrance looks like a typical—if spacious—Freiberg entry, with a bench, hooks for coats, and a shelf for shoes.
The weekly tours don’t come back here—they’re restricted to the formal rooms on the ground floor, the chapel, and the tower.
It takes about ten minutes to walk across the palace grounds and out to the closest F-bahn stop, but the evening is clear and cool, with a faint whiff of burning leaves. Grateful I grabbed the jacket, I zip it up and descend the station stairs. My Tico card lets me travel incognito. Freiberg residents can get an app on their phones—which I have—that serves the same function, but since it’s tied to my SIM, it tells the merchant who I am. I plan on using this outing as an opportunity to prove to the Grand Duchess how useless I am as a spy, but since I have way more integrity than common sense, concealing my identity as much as possible will make this a fair trial.
I have no doubt Andela would tell me to use all the tools at my disposal, which in this case would mean making my identity obvious. In fact, if the Grand Duchess had asked her to spy, she’d probably show up wearing a tiara and have a bodyguard in tow, to blow any cover she might have. Or she’d go the other direction, dyeing her hair, wearing glasses, and finding some unsavory friends to hang with. Andela loves subterfuge almost as much as she loves poking at our aunt.
I jump off the train at the city center, tap my card against the barrier to exit the station, then take the steps two at a time. A few slower-moving people glance in my direction, but no one points and exclaims. So far so good. I’ve been out of the country for most of a year, so hopefully I can blend in. As a junior royal, I’m known, but I’ve never been stalked or mobbed. And I definitely don’t need a bodyguard in town.
The pub Hans chose is busy, and when I check my texts, I see the Katerschmaus is one of the three Andela recommended to me. Trust Hans to find the hot spots immediately. Luckily, my hometown hasn’t adopted a trendy New York style yet—there’s no line or bouncer at the door. A few people stand on the street, talking and drinking, but Hans isn’t with them.
Threading my way between the patrons, I slip through the open front door and down four steps. I duck under the arch, although there’s plenty of headroom. The low-ceilinged basement feels shorter than it really is. Tables crowd most of the room, and a long bar runs the full length. Tall shelves hold dozens of glittering bottles in front of a dark mirrored surface. Three bartenders pull pints and mix drinks. Braided onions, herbs, and dried flowers hang from a heavy beam over the bar, and the small windows at the front have a lattice that gives the place a cozy, faux-medieval feel. The scents of fried food and beer add to the ambiance.
I spot Hans at a table near the back of the room and wave to catch his attention, then head for the bar. After a short wait, I catch the bartender’s eye, raise two fingers, and point at the tap. Finally, armed with two half-liter mugs of the pub’s house ale, I make my way through the crowd to my supposedly heartbroken friend.
Hans doesn’t appear to be upset at all. “Teo!” He grins at me and gestures to the three women with him. “This is Suzie and Odette. And Andi, of course.”
I hand over the mug, then kiss my sister’s cheek as I take a seat. “Sorry, I would have brought drinks for all of you—I thought Hans was solo.”
Andela laughs, her musical chuckle turning heads and bringing involuntary smiles to faces. It’s always been this way. Andela is the charming one. A guy at the next table pushes back his chair as if he’s coming to talk to her. I give him the big brother stink-eye, and he sinks back into his seat.
“You don’t know Hans very well if you think he’d be alone for long.” Andela takes my beer and downs an impressive draught.
“Fair point.” I wrest my beverage from my sister’s grip and gulp some myself before it disappears completely. “I’ll get a round, then, shall I? What’s everyone drinking?”
After wading back to the bar and ordering four more beers—I know from past experience that mine will be long gone when I return—I turn to survey the crowd. A familiar blue and purple head catches my attention. “Eva?”
She spins, searching, then spots me and waves. Holding up a finger, she turns back, then makes her way through the crowd toward me with another woman in tow. “Teo! How are you? This is Lina, my housemate.” She turns and drags the young woman closer.
A short, pretty girl with thick blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes smiles and thrusts out a hand. “Teo! How nice to meet you!” Her gaze sharpens, and recognition sharpens her features.
Apparently, I haven’t been out of the press long enough. I give a tiny head shake, and my eyes dart to the back of Eva’s head. I need to tell her who I am before someone else does. Lina seems to get the message because she frowns but doesn’t say anything else.
I squeeze her hand a little and smile. “Likewise. Would you like to join us? We have a table.”
Eva looks up. “We? Oh, I forget you’re a local. You probably have tons of friends here.” She wrinkles her nose at me, then turns to Lina. “Teo’s an old friend from home.”
Lina’s gaze darts from Eva to me and back. “Really? From the States?”
“He’s from here, originally. But he’s been coming to Rotheberg since we were little.” Eva holds a hand out at waist height. “His family has a Christmas ornament export company.”
“Feltz?” Lina hazards.
“You’ve heard of them?” She laughs and turns to me. “I didn’t know you were famous, Teo.”
I open and close my mouth, trying to figure out how to answer that. Luckily, the bartender chooses this moment to plunk the last beer onto the bar. I pull out my Tico card, then glance at the two women. “Would you like a beer?” When they nod, I hand the card to the guy and put up my thumb and index finger. “Two more, please.”
The girls help me carry the drinks back to the table, and we do another round of introductions. Lina’s eyes grow wide when she sees Andela, but she snaps her lips closed and gives the princess a jerky nod.
My sister introduces herself as Andi—the nickname she uses when we’re in Oregon. We didn’t consciously set out to deceive anyone, but Americans love nicknames, and all four of us acquired them within days of landing in the Rotheberg schools. I’m sure they helped keep our true identities secret. In Rotheberg, I’m just the eldest of the Feltz kids. How do you tell someone you’ve known almost since you were in grade school that you’re actually royalty?
My phone buzzes.
Hans:
I told Andi you’re incognito.
I send a thumbs-up back to him and a nod of thanks.
