Page 3 of Tech Prince Troubles (Runaway Prince Hotel #6)

Chapter Three

ADRI

under construction

T he sturdy wheels of my suitcase rolled easily across the concrete pavement as I walked from the bus station to the Renversé Plaza.

It hadn’t seemed far on the map, and it was a pleasant walk—if noisy with traffic—with glimpses of the sea in the distance.

If only people would stop staring at me.

Despite being the biggest producers of computer chips for over half a century, in human eyes, our people were still a novelty.

Which was why I’d worn a long-sleeved, hooded tunic to hide my markings and hair.

I guessed there weren’t many of us in Princedelphia—if any.

At least they kept their distance and replied kindly to my muttered, “Good mornings.”

The plaza bathed in sunlight. It was round, with a walkway lined with benches and a ring of wild grass on either side.

The gently trickling water from the concrete fountain did nothing to drown out the traffic.

The statue of a human stood fierce, a coffee pot in one hand and a cup in the other, an expression of bliss on his face.

It felt as out of place as I was. A pang of regret hissed through my system, and doubt hit me.

I turned toward the clouded sun—warm, but unfamiliar.

This was definitely not home. I could have sat on my balcony.

Instead, here I was, in a strange, noisy city because an attendant had handed me a card.

The hotel and surrounding buildings seemed a mixture of old and new, high and low.

Friendly. Inviting. Chaotic. I wasn’t sure what this hotel could offer me, but even if I stayed a week, it might give me time to breathe.

No forced smiles, no royal responsibilities, no spotlight, no biomancy, but anonymity—in as much as a Niren could be anonymous—and mundane life.

As I circled the plaza, a wonderfully dark coffee smell enveloped me. Café Magnifique. After the long journey and the bus, I deserved an espresso… and a free socket. Unlike humans, sleep didn’t replenish us the way energy did.

A young human barista wiped the counter as I entered, wearing a white T-shirt with the sleeves rolled up—arms covered in human markings called tattoos—and a black apron with leather straps. He seemed to start when he saw me, but hid it behind a smile.

“Good morning! Welcome to Café Magnifique. How can I help you?”

The clunky coffee machines hissed and hummed behind him. I approached the counter with care, not wanting to interrupt their work with my energetic presence. Machines connected to us the way pets connected to humans. Alive, but not communicating in the same language.

“Good morning. I’d like an espresso, please.”

Excited hisses welcomed my order. They’d sensed my presence and were eager to perform.

“To go or drink here?”

I considered it for a moment, but even old and clunky, the coffee machines sounded more welcoming than the street noise. “Here, please.”

“Is that all? We have some fresh pastries and Danishes on offer today. ”

“No, thank you.” The espresso was rich enough for my system.

He presented me with a card reader, drawing my eyes to the tattoos he presented so freely. “That’s three dollars.”

From a young age, we’d learned to use a fake debit card to hide that a touch of our fingers was all we needed to pay. Though I made sure to only use my in-system currency so as not to reveal my location.

He glanced at my fingers, but didn’t comment and didn’t ask. His smile appeared genuine. “Thank you. One espresso. Coming right up.” He turned to the nearest machine, which burst happily to life at his touch. It liked him.

These machines might not have run as polished as the refined systems I’d grown up with, but they still made me smile.

The rich, dark aroma of the espresso rose from the cup when he set it on the counter, filling my senses with anticipation.

There were tables near a large window facing the street, and booths overlooking the plaza.

The crema formed a perfect golden layer on top, shifting as I carried the cup to the corner booth.

It had space for my suitcase and an accessible free socket—one I could press my fingers to without drawing attention to myself. But first… coffee.

I let the dark liquid seep into my system with small sips, making it last; the heat was as much a pleasure as taste and scent. The lingering aftertaste was rich and full of flavor. It was a good espresso. I’d have to come here again.

It didn’t take long for me to top up my energy storage, but I wasn’t ready to go, so I stayed—until the crowd became too much and I was tired of being stared at.

Though he was serving another customer, the young human thanked me as I put the cup on the counter and wished me a nice day. I wished him the same and rolled my suitcase back into the sunlit plaza .

Enjoying the warmth on my skin, I crossed the walkway and entered the hotel. The lobby, carpeted in dark red, was as inviting and elegant as the pictures on their website had promised, and just as empty. Across the lobby, past the elevators, one corridor was blocked with an under construction sign.

I walked up toward the desk, looking at the vases lining the walls. What would people keep in them? Were there flowers that tall? I let the thought go. That was more my family’s side of the business—not mine.

A well-dressed, bald human stood behind the counter. What did the card say? Ask for Layla. Could this be Layla?

Unlike the barista, he didn’t blink, and his smile didn’t waver when I approached him. “Good morning and welcome to the Renversé Hotel. Do you have a reservation?”

“Good morning.” I swallowed, studying his nametag. Simon . Not Layla. Should I claim an appointment? Should I hand over the card? In the end, I did neither. “I was told to ask for Layla.”

“Ah, of course, hold on a moment.” He consulted the screen in front of him.

I let out a breath as he picked up the phone, and after a brief conversation, pointed to a seating area overlooking the plaza. “Please take a seat. She’ll be right with you.”

She . I’d have to remember that. “Thank you.”

He gave me a polite nod and turned back to his screen.

I rolled my suitcase to the nearest table and stared out over the plaza. Nerves scritched across my system, but I pushed them down. I was here now.

A human in a dark button-up blouse with rolled-up sleeves approached me and sat opposite me with a friendly smile and keen eyes.

Her graying hair was cut short, and she had a round human face—what humans called weathered.

Min-Oliver had explained it showed the long, interesting life a human had led.

“Adri Linari. It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you. Your brother had quite the lavish engagement party last night, didn’t he? And here you are. Fresh off the night bus.”

“How…?” Would the attendant have told her? And if she knew, did my mins? I glanced around, but Simon was typing away on his computer, and there was no one else in the lobby.

Layla’s smile widened. “Oh, don’t worry, kid. This isn’t a trap. No one gave me your name—I just make it a point to stay informed. A Niren arriving in our city doesn’t go unnoticed.”

Kid . Not Highness. Not Prince. It was… strangely refreshing. “You are Layla?” I slid the card out of my pocket and handed it to her.

She turned it over a few times, then nodded. “Layla Fischer, owner of the Renversé Hotel. Let’s take this into my office.”

I followed her, my system running hot trying to figure out how she knew who I was.

Not just that I was Niren, but that she knew my name.

I didn’t get a malicious vibe from her; the opposite—her energy seemed amiable.

The hotel’s energy, though glitchy, echoed that.

Yet, I couldn’t help but feel hesitant as I joined her in her office.

The dark wood suited her. It reflected a grounding presence and the same friendly energy as the lobby. Layla pointed me toward an old desk scattered with papers, a computer, and a steaming mug.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I interrupted you at your work.”

I couldn’t quite decipher the look in her eyes, but I felt like I was being scolded by Min-Tess—one of those very human expressions he was fond of.

“Nothing that can’t wait. Go on, sit down. Can I get you anything?”

“I had an espresso at the café across the plaza.”

“Café Magnifique, yes. They do make a great espresso—even on Sam’s days off.”

I had no idea who Sam was—I hadn’t paid attention to the barista’s name tag—but Layla’s comment made me want to try a Sam-made espresso.

“Right. Adri Linari of Niralen. You’ve come seeking refuge. A taste of normal human life, maybe? Time away from the demands of royal life?”

Her words—spoken as though royalty seeking a place to stay was a common occurrence—settled over me like my weighted blanket. Refuge. Respite. It sounded like everything I needed. “Yes.”

“Good. Our west wing is under construction right now. We’re restoring it to its original state and upgrading to the latest technical specs. We could really use a Niren tech mage to sort out some glitches our IT team has been struggling with. So, in exchange for a room?—”

Exchange ? I tried to ignore the way my system surged at the mention of glitches. “You want me to work for you?”

“Yes. Those are the rules. I can’t offer you a room for free. That’s not how this works.”

“I can pay for a room.” I hadn’t come here to work, even if it sounded intriguing.

“That’s sweet. But I’d rather you didn’t leave a trail. It prevents me from providing you the anonymity you seek.”

I wanted to protest, but Layla was right. There was a limit to how many traces I could hide from my family, even when I used my secured account. But a job for a room? Was that what I wanted? “What would my hours be?” If I still had time to draw, to just be… then perhaps it would be worth it.

“You’d be working nights. Nine to ten-hour shifts. We’re under a time constraint, so I can’t promise you many nights off. But I’m always open to negotiations.”

Nights were quiet. Nights meant fewer stares. “And if I accept?”

“You can stay here as long as you like. Your secret is safe with me. I do have one more rule. It’s non-negotiable.

Should your family—or anyone—come stirring up trouble, you’re out.

Protecting my hotel, my guests, and my staff is my priority.

I will not sacrifice them for a runaway prince. Is that understood?”

I’d met enough dignitaries to understand the kind of troubles she might have dealt with, and while I didn’t expect anything on that scale from my family, they did have unlimited access to the hotel’s energy system.

I nodded. “Yes. If they create a disruption, I will leave the hotel willingly. I won’t put anyone in danger. ”

“Good. So. What do you think? Do we have a deal?”

A room in exchange for work in a human IT team seemed fair enough. And those glitches had piqued my interest. “Yes. Yes, we do.”

“Welcome to the Renversé Hotel, Adri.” She winked.

“Your room is booked under A. Jones, should you lose your key. Though… I have a feeling that won’t be a problem for you.

” She rummaged in a drawer and handed me a flyer about a local organization, the Princedelphia Vocational Center.

“And if you’re eager to spend money, we’re hosting a charity masquerade ball on Labor Day. ”