Page 18 of Tech Prince Troubles
“I’m twenty-eight,” he replied with a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth. “But there’s no direct Niren-to-human age conversion. Our lifespan doesn’t compare. I’m a youngling in Niren culture.”
“Age is never straightforward. Anyway, birds. Do you have more?” I leaned closer, slowly, so as not to spook him. “Would you mind showing me some of your drawings?”
Adri clutched his tablet to his chest, flicking his eyes down… hesitant.
“It’s okay. I get it. Art is personal.” Quinn didn’t show us all their drawings, either.
“I’ve never…” He glanced up through his lashes, then down again.
I held my breath, trying not to fidget while he thought about it. The moment he shook his head and tilted the tablet, my whole body relaxed.
“No. I don’t mind…” For a moment, it seemed he was going to say more. Instead, he smiled—tentative, but genuine, gorgeous—and showed me his work.
He browsed through image after image of beautiful birds captured in motion; lifelike in grayscale. No colors needed. It drew my attention to our differences. His iridescent purple skin versus my weathered tan. My work-roughened hands versus the elegance of his long, tapered fingers. How fluidly they swiped across the screen as he turned to yet another piece of art.
Which was not just of a bird. “You drew our famed Bartholomew.”
Adri blinked, a slight frown furrowing his pale brows.
“The fountain.” As detailed as the rest of his drawings.
“There was a bird.”
I tried not to laugh at his matter-of-fact tone. “Yes.” Beautifulin flight, water dripping down one wing. But while it was obvious the bird got the majority of his attention, the water flow was just as precise. “It’s gorgeous.”
“Thank you.” His shoulders twitched, and twitched again, as if he was forcing himself to relax.
He didn’t take compliments well, did he? It almost made me pull back my words. Almost. “Layla would really love this one. Do you know the history of the fountain?”
Adri shook his head, grabbing his tablet tight as he glanced at the statue.
“Didn’t read the plaque?”
Another head shake.
“That’s Prince Bartholomew Renversé. Runaway royal. Founder of Princedelphia. Lover of hot beverages. This was his hotel, way back when.”
“He was a prince?” Adri’s voice did that dippy thing again. He was definitely surprised.
“Yeah. I don’t know the entire story. It was a long time ago, but rumors have it he married a barista.”
“Wow. A prince and a barista?”
There was a whole new resonance to Adri’s voice. But with the way he tensed, I couldn’t work out whether it was a negative or positive reaction. Maybe a bit of both. “Sounds like a fairytale, right?”
“Like a story? For children?”
“Yeah.” I let his“children”comment slide. It wasn’t as if I knew anything about Niren literature. Was there even such a thing? “Would you be willing to show it to Layla?”
Adri shook his head. “I’ve never… shared before.”
I thought about Quinn and how she loved drawing, but as much as I enjoyed talking about my kids, something was stopping me. What if I was misreading him? If he found it difficult to share his art with me, wouldhe think talking about my family was too personal, too friendly, when he was just here for work and coffee?
I leaned back while Adri browsed on. I wondered if I should ask him to stop, until I recognized our lake, and I couldn’t help but say, “So, you’ve ventured beyond the hotel.”
“Yes,” Adri replied, clutching the tablet. “I walked through the park, followed the river to this lake. There’s a bench with a good view. I went back the other way, but that wasn’t as enjoyable. Too close to the road. Too noisy.”
“Yeah, our city isn’t the quietest. Though it’s not so bad up here, is it?”
