Chapter One
Kalle
There are times when being able to talk with animals is a desirable and useful gift.
Now isn’t one of them.
All I’ve got is secondhand embarrassment and firsthand cringe.
Glancing up at the dark, pointed tips of the fresh-scented Sitka spruces that line the river, I rub my forehead, trying to stave off a headache.
Gods, why me?
A voice in my head that sounds suspiciously like my mother’s answers: Because understanding animals on this level is a rare gift. Instead of complaining, I should be grateful.
But she spends most of her time in the castle. Or maybe the animals treat her with more discretion than they do me. She forgets that I have to put up with absolute garbage like this the moment I leave the castle’s hallowed grounds. I clench my jaw and tune back in to what Roy’s saying as we walk along the river by Wakerobin Village.
“So, after fucking Marlo, I was banging Gisele,” the hare continues, “and she started kicking her feet all over the place. Just … thump, thump, thump. Totally got me off my rhythm, man. Er, Your Highness. I had to hurry up and fuck her fast so that I could come, you know?”
Pulling the hood back from my hair so he can see my narrowed eyes, I force a smile. The skin pulls tight at my scar. “Roy, are you familiar with the term ‘TMI’?”
Roy wrinkles his nose. “Yeah, yeah. I know. But I had to tell someone.”
Swiveling my head to our right, I pointedly study the crowded Blazingstar Inn, which has patrons spilling from its doors, drinking ale and enjoying the sunshine. Squirrels chitter and chase each other among stacks of firewood. I look back at Roy and raise my unmarred eyebrow.
Please take the hint.
“But I like you. And you’re the closest person I can actually talk to.”
Sigh.
“I wish I weren’t,” I mutter. “I’d be perfectly happy to pass off the job of being everyone’s confidant.”
Like that’s going to happen. Conversing with our animal subjects is part of my core royal duties.
And, okay, I do enjoy some of the blue jays’ gossip. And maybe the wisdom from the bears.
Still, I continue to glance at the rough wooden buildings surrounding us, clustered in the shade of the towering conifers: the inn, a few log cabins, a trading post, and a gathering hall with a steep, pointed roof. I wish I could find someone to use as an excuse to gracefully end this conversation. The members of my security team accompanying me don’t count.
They’re on duty, scanning for a variety of threats. Rumblings from the Fire Realm have us all on high alert. Despite our uneasy arrangement—and written contracts—with the other realm, they still like to remind us of their power. If we don’t finalize our alliance, will the fire queens cause another eruption? We’re still recovering from the last one, which was three years ago.
As I peer over the treetops at the silhouette of Mount Pátu looming in the east, my breath catches and my muscles tense. From here, the volcano appears dormant and benign, with snow on its peak and a wide base, but looks can be deceiving. I cock my head. Doesn’t seem like there’s any more volcanic activity than usual, but it’s hard to tell. There’s always steam coming out of the vents. And even a small lava flow can cause devastation that’s too much to bear. Bottom line: I don’t trust the Fire Realm.
With my eyes on the distant volcano, I don’t watch where I’m going. My boot knocks against a rock, and my faithful sword jostles on my hip, forcing me to return my attention to the trail. My scuffling makes my security gray fox, Hazel, turn to look at me, her ears pointing up.
“I’m fine,” I grouse. “Don’t mother-hen me.”
She nods and continues on, her tail swishing.
Right. Quit getting distracted. Lure someone over to save me—er, us—from Roy’s monologue.
But … no luck. I’m not getting out of spending the rest of my walk with an oversexed subject who lacks a filter. That sucks.
Sigh. Again.
“What’s wrong with lending an ear?” Roy asks.
I throw out my hands. “Nothing, it’s just that I know way too much about everyone’s sex life, digestive tract, and plans for murder. Trust me, I could stand to know much less than I do.”
Everyone expects cute forest animals to be cuddly and adorable, like their cartoon depictions in Snow White. They aren’t. They’re a bunch of degenerates. At least, a lot of them are. And those ones all tend to confide in me.
“Well, you should be happy the way you are,” Roy says cheerfully. “You’d miss it if you couldn’t talk with everyone.”
I crouch to pat his head and scratch behind his ears. “I suppose. I’ll stop complaining.” I straighten up, and my hood slips forward again to cover most of my face, exactly how I like it. I don’t need to be reminded of how I failed—not that I can remember all the details. Still, I’m doubly aware of my defeat, since my parents now insist on security accompanying me, even within our territory.
While I didn’t ask for a play-by-play of Roy’s sexual conquests, it’s my own fault that I was available to lend an ear. Taking advantage of a rare cloudless day, I’d escaped the castle after an early dinner to go out hiking. Sometimes royal duty is just too oppressive.
Especially when there’s going to be a wedding in a few short weeks.
We continue along the unpaved trail beside the Dorricott River, the water silver in the evening sun. People gather on the bank to dip their feet in the cold eddies and lazy straightaways. A group of deer graze in a meadow on the other side. When I spy some wild mint growing, I pluck a leaf and pop it into my mouth. Yum.
Roy opens his mouth to say something … more sex, surely … but another subject—Orla, a young human girl about seven or eight years old—skips over to us from the inn, an earnest look on her face. Martin, my security Roosevelt elk, and Hazel raise their heads and straighten their postures. I almost kick them. “Sheesh, guys,” I mutter, “She’s just a kid. You know her. She’s no threat.”
“We can’t be too careful,” Hazel insists, but she and Martin relax when the girl follows royal protocol and bows.
Before I reply to Hazel, Orla says, “Hello, Prince Kalle!” She’s lost a few front teeth, so “Prince” comes out with a slight lisp, but she pronounces my name correctly: Call-Eh.
I nod at her.
She sets her hands on her knees and peers down at Roy. “And what a cute bunny you have with you!”
I can’t help it. I snort and do my best to make it sound like a chuckle. If people only knew what assholes some of these woodland creatures are …
Roy sits still, letting her admire him. His little pink nose twitches a few times, and he blinks, his black-tufted ears pricked up. His coat is soft and fluffy, currently a rusty brown with white undertones, and he even has a few brown freckles on his face.
Such an asshole.
And he’s not a bunny. “He’s a snowshoe hare,” I correct.
“Sorry, Your Highness.” Orla shifts her weight, her skirts brushing the tops of her boots.
“Did you have something to say?” I ask.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
I sweep a hand out. “You may proceed.”
“I was sent by my daddy.” One of my parents’ assistants. “The king and queen want you to return to the castle at once. They said it was, um, urgent.”
My stomach sinks. Why didn’t the birds already inform me? I press my fist to my mouth and listen intently. No woodpeckers or jays are talking about palace business. That’s strange.
Unless my parents told them to keep it quiet.
A wave of foreboding rolls over me. I lift my chin, shaking off the sensation. “I will do so immediately.”
I thank Orla and say goodbye to her and to Roy, and my guards and I take off at a quick pace.
We go around a bend in the river, and Huckleberry Castle comes into view, about a half mile away. The stone-and-wood edifice blends into the granite mountains that are the backdrop to our realm, the Northwest Forest. As we get closer, more details become apparent. Intricate carvings made by local craftspeople, most in a swirling leaf pattern, frame the doorways. A hammer-and-shield design is carved into the heavy wooden doors.
Hulking American black bears guard the entrances, and I nod to acknowledge their presence as I rush through with Hazel and Martin.
Live evergreen trees stand inside the grand entry hall, their branches extending through the roof to the sky. Stained-glass windows let in filtered light in jewel tones. Our feet pass over perfectly cut, smooth river stones that pave the floor.
When I burst into the throne room, my parents are not on their redwood thrones. They’re pacing. Neither of my brothers is present, either, although the royal advisors, both human and animal, are gathered to the side by the heavy velvet tapestries.
“What’s the matter?” I ask, stiffening and going still. I narrow my eyes. Which again tugs at my scar.
Thinking about my scar makes me grind my teeth.
My parents turn to me. My mother’s eyes are puffy, and she wipes at her nose.
“Your brother is missing,” my father answers, his voice flat.
I don’t have to ask which brother. Einar is too young to pull shit like Mats does. Coldness seeps through my core. “Again?”
My mother nods.
My heartbeat races. That’s why they didn’t tell the animal communication system—my parents fear unnecessary gossip.
This is one of many areas in which we differ. I think getting the word out is a good thing. The animals can help.
“Did he leave a note?” I ask.
“No,” my father says, and clears his throat.
“Did someone take him?”
My father’s face is grim. “We don’t know.”
“Is this just Mats being Mats? He’s done this before.” My boot taps on the polished floor.
Father just looks at me.
I throw up my hands. “All right, I get it. What do you know?”
Firecats. That was on the rude side. Before I can open my mouth to apologize, my father says, “He didn’t appear for breakfast or lunch. His bed was not slept in. We think he snuck out last night.”
I must’ve missed all of this because I was out learning about Roy’s sex life. I mean, performing princely responsibilities. “No one saw him?”
“Not that we know of.”
Double firecats. I should’ve been paying more attention to Mats. Instead, I’ve been all in my own feelings about duty and annoyances.
“What about …”
“The wedding?” my mother finishes.
“Yes, that.”
She exchanges a long look with my father. “I just hope he’s okay,” she finally says.
What aren’t they telling me? We are ceding portions of the forest to the Fire Realm in exchange for Eleanor’s dowry, which is a significant sum of fire gold, along with written assurances that the Fire Realm will not use its volcanoes to destroy our lands. My parents told me that there’s a looming cutoff date to join the two realms, although I’ve never understood when, specifically, that is, or why there’s a deadline at all.
“Do you want me to try to find him? Do you think he went to visit Princess Eleanor? I can take a trip to the Fire Realm—”
“No. That is not a good idea,” Mother says.
I poke my tongue into my cheek.
Mother holds her chin high. “We need to approach that realm from a position of strength. We can’t let them know he is missing except as a last resort. That would be a diplomatic disaster on so many levels.”
“We still need to talk with them,” I insist. “Eleanor deserves to know. Especially if the wedding isn’t going to go forward.”
“It will go forward,” my father says. “There will be a union between our realms.”
It was originally supposed to be me marrying Eleanor, until Mats volunteered to take my place. So it’s pretty clear what my father means—and I’m not delighted at that idea. I must find Mats.
My mother tilts her head. “We will send a contingent there to do reconnaissance. We do not want to alert the fire queens that anything is wrong.”
“Well, where do you think he went, then? Icedonia?”
“I doubt it,” Father says. “And we need to not alert them that there is a problem, either. We need to proceed with more … discretion.”
“Where else could Mats be?” I ask. “The Naga Kingdom? The Coral Kingdom? There’s no way he went to the—”
“Fae Realm?” Mother says.
We all wince. The advisors glance over at us, more than a few of the humans registering concern. The muskrat in charge of diplomacy flips his tail, his hair bristling.
“Mats would never be that foolish,” my father says.
He’d better not be that foolish.
Time passes differently in the Fae Realm. What feels like just a few moments there can be days in other realms. But Mats knows better than to deal with the fae. When he’s gone missing before, he’s always turned up relatively quickly.
Just … this time, he has a deadline.
“Perhaps we’re overthinking this,” I say. “Maybe he only went to Princedelphia.” The coastal Oregon city is a relatively short distance from the southern border of our realm, where we are now. “He could have checked into the Renversé Hotel. It’s infamous for being a crossroads for royalty on the run. Word gets around. I saw a flyer a week ago on the side of the Blazingstar Inn that said something like ‘Need to RUN away? Try the Renversé Hotel! Located near Café Magnifique.’ If I saw it, maybe Mats did, too.”
Hope blooms in my mother’s eyes. “Perhaps. Although I don’t know why going somewhere with more human interaction would help with his … issues.”
I rub my jaw. “Maybe he just needed to escape from the castle for a while. That’s why the hotel is so popular, I think. He is getting married, and that’s a big deal. Want me to go and check?”
“I doubt Mats will turn up there,” Mother says. “And even if he does, I imagine he would stay in his room, not wanting to be around anyone.”
My throat aches when I think about my poor middle brother. He just can’t catch a break.
“So I’ll stay a few days.” I bite my lip, a thrill running through me despite my concern about Mats. “Someone there is sure to have seen him. It’s where all the royals go. I’ve always wanted to find out more about that place. I could even get one of the jobs they’re so famous for.”
Mother waves a hand. “I’m sure you can pay for a hotel room—”
“Of course, but if I’m trying not to raise suspicion,” I start, maintaining steady eye contact with Father. He gives me a slight nod, and a jolt passes through my body. Maybe I can finally get away and do something on my own, without oversight from the palace. Or, at least, with just a minimal entourage. “To be subtle, I should take part in the arrangement that they advertise. Let me do this. Let me try to find him.”
My father looks to my mother. “What do you say, Beatrice?”
“Kalle shouldn’t have to go,” she insists. She pinches the skin at her throat, and her gaze flits about the room.
I lean my hip against her throne. “No. But I want to.”
Mats isn’t the only one who wants to escape. I look at my parents pleadingly. I hate begging, but they don’t know how oppressive this place is.
Mother nods, and I exhale. “Then go, with our blessing. Bring your security with you. We will send for you if we find him.”
I glance outside. “I should go before the sun sets.” This time of year, near the solstice, the sun stays high in the sky until fairly late, but it’s perhaps two hours’ walk from here to the hotel, which is located at the edge of the woods. Not so far that I truly need to stay there overnight, but … it’s a good excuse to have extra freedom for a few days.
My mother kisses my cheek. “I hope you find him,” she whispers fervently.
“So do I,” I say.
My father shakes my hand. “Keep in good contact. Send word if you hear anything.”
“Yes, Father.”
Mats has done this before, which is why they’re not completely panicking. But that doesn’t stop them from worrying about him. Maybe he didn’t simply get lost in his head. Maybe something really did happen to him.
I grab a quick meal in the kitchen, then return to my quarters, where I pull out a satchel and begin to select clothing for the journey.
How many days should I plan for? I have no idea. I throw in a bit of everything and hope that the hotel has a laundry service.
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 spicy Cinderella retelling 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.
About Prince of the Northwest Forest:
If the forest prince is straight, why does it seem like he wants to kiss me? And will I end up regretting it if I let him?
I spend my mornings working as a barista and my afternoons hiking in the woods trying to find a way into the realm of the fae. Those tricksters stole something from me, and I want it back.
Then I meet Prince Kalle, who has a wicked scar on his face, a sword at his hip, and the rare ability to talk to animals. We form an easy friendship, in part because he’s searching the woods for something, too: his missing brother.
Kalle is tall, dark, handsome, kind, and not into men. I tell myself to smother my budding attraction to him, which is especially difficult to do when our quest has us sharing a very small tent.
Am I just imagining that he’s sending me mixed signals?
Regardless, I need to leave him alone. If Kalle doesn’t find his brother, he’ll have to marry the princess of a rival realm to save his forest from destruction. But losing him might destroy my heart.
Is there any way Kalle won’t have to choose between saving his land and subjects … and me?
Prince of the Northwest Forest is a lower-angst, spicy, male/male urban fantasy romance. Prince Kalle and commoner Justice trek through snowy woods wearing hooded cloaks and carrying lanterns … and maybe falling in love along the way. Expect cute animal sidekicks, cozy visits to the cottagecore homes of wood nymphs, firecat attacks, and revealed secrets. It’s book four of the Runaway Prince Hotel shared world series, where magical royals find love over a cup of coffee. HEA guaranteed.