Welcome to Fae Cafe (High Court of the Coffee Bean Book 1)

The Prince stood at the top of the hill with his arms folded watching Shayne and Dranian bound down on a human sled, their pompom hats bouncing along with them. Kate’s raspy laugh flooded the hill as she reached the top after a painfully slow climb. She was out of breath, her fair cheeks were flushed, and she was smiling wide enough to bloom fresh flowers right here in the human realm snow.

And only the sky deities knew how adorable she looked in that wretched hat.

Cress cleared his throat and looked back at Shayne whipping a ball of snow into Dranian’s face below.

“Aren’t you going to try it, Cress?” Kate asked, panting. She wobbled on her feet over the uneven snow as she tried to reach him. It was all Cress could do to keep himself from grabbing her to carry her around for the rest of the day before she lost her footing and broke all her little fragile human bones.

“Absolutely not,” he announced. “This is a game for immature childlings.”

Kate licked damp snow from her lips as she smiled.

Oh, sky deities, have mercy. Cress could not look away.

She tugged him toward her sled. “Just try it once,” she begged. “Please? You won’t regret it.”

Cress yanked his arm back. “Absolutely not.”

“Cress.”

Why did she have to say his name like that?

A foot came against his back, and Cress was shoved forward. He whipped around to glare at Mor. The curly-haired fairy winked.

“How insufferable,” Cress muttered as he marched toward the sled after all. “I’ll try it only one time.”

He sat down on the wooden board and was about to inch forward when Kate climbed on in front of him, shoving his legs out of the way. His faeborn heart punched against her back, though he doubted she could feel it.

Mor appeared like a cursed nightmare that wouldn’t rest. He pushed against Cress’s shoulders, and the sled tipped forward. Cress’s royal eyes widened as the wooden board picked up speed.

He screamed a little.

They slammed into the snow at the bottom and tumbled off. The sled spun away, and Cress sprang to his elbows so he wouldn’t crush Kate when he landed on her. Kate was laughing too hard to realize. He blinked down at her smiling mouth. He wanted to kiss her when she laughed this way. He wanted to so severely, he almost did it.

He released the breath he was holding and moved to climb off.

Sledding had been a bad idea. Him being anywhere near her for the next week until the human Yule celebration was a terribly bad, faeborn-cursed idea.

He stilled when Kate grabbed the sides of his face and planted her lips on his in a light kiss. It was just one, brief, dreadful second. But it sent the human realm spinning.

“Stop that,” he whispered, turning his gaze cold so she would see how serious he was.

Kate’s smile widened. “I don’t want to.”

“You’re making this difficult for both of us, Human.”

“That’s the idea.”

There was a mark of seriousness in her tone.

“Gross!” Kate’s-brother-Greyson shouted from a few feet away. “Save it for when I’m not around, you two.” A snowball smacked Cress’s back, and Cress looked over to find Kate’s-brother-Greyson and the two humans with him snorting laughs.

Kate reached for a handful of snow and packed it into a ball. “You’re my boyfriend; call it official or don’t. But I’m going to make it difficult for you right until the end,” she promised.

“Why?” he asked.

“It’s the only chance I have left to make you change your mind about giving yourself to that black-haired creep. Now move aside so I can pelt my brother with snow.”

Cress rolled off, releasing Kate to hurtle the snow pocket at the humans. He watched her as he stood, only partially aware of the humans shouting something back.

Kate scrambled over and ducked behind him as three snowballs splashed against his chest. She peeked around his arm. “What are you doing?!” she shouted at him. “Fight back!”

Cress settled his turquoise gaze on the humans. He dropped to scoop a measurable amount of snow and clenched it tight in his fist until it was as solid as rock.

The battle raged for over an hour. After being washed with snow and delivering wrathful catapults of ice pellets to his enemies, Cress marched up the hill, allowing Kate to ride down with Lily. Shayne and Dranian—who had ducked behind a drift for cover when the fight began—held the fairy side of the war on their own.

Cress reached the hilltop and paused to rest. A minute later, he walked up behind Mor, planted his foot against the assassin’s back, and shoved him forward. Cress flashed a delicious smile when a powdered-faced Mor stopped rolling at the bottom of the hill and looked up at him with a snarl.

The crackling in the café’s fireplace at night reminded Cress of the Hall of Silver. He watched the dull flames lick up the logs from where he sat in a plush chair. They were just flames. It was just fire. There was nothing hidden within it, no lure or whispers left by noble fairies playing mad games.

When he was just ten years old, Cress had listened to the call of a fire for the first time. He’d wandered over with pure childling curiosity and found himself sticking his hand into the flames.

Nobles in the castle had erupted with laughter when he realized and tore his hand back out. It was the last party he ever went to by choice. Every gathering Cress had attended since then, he’d been forced to go to at Queene Levress’s command.

Cress was curious of the savage death the Queene would deal him when he returned to the North. She had done merciless things to fairies who’d betrayed her far less than Cress had.

“Mor,” Cress said, and Mor glanced up from where he read his recipe book by firelight in the opposite chair. “I need you to do something important for me.”

Mor pressed down a page corner and closed the book. “What do you have in mind?”

“On midnight of the human Christmas Eve, I want you to steal my memories of this place. And I want you to deliver me to Bonswick,” Cress said. “I’ll write myself a letter before then and sign it with my own fairy blood. Give me the letter once you wipe my memory clean, and don’t follow me back across the gate.”

Mor thought about it. “No,” he said.

“I’m asking as your Prince. And your friend.”

The curly-haired fairy folded his arms.

“I trust you more than anyone,” Cress said. “I know I’ll do whatever you tell me to, even if I can’t remember why.”

Mor’s brown-silver eyes flickered. “You’re assuming I’ll let you go back to the North High Court.”

“Yes.” Cress glanced back at the rippling flames. “I am.”

Mor worked his jaw. “You fool,” he whispered. “I can’t honour that bargain you made with him.”

“Careful,” Cress warned. “I’m still a prince even if I’m to die, so do not call me names. And promise me you’ll do as I ask.” When Mor said nothing in return, Cress added, “I went after the Queene alone, so I’ll face the punishment alone. Promise me, Mor.”

Mor adjusted himself on his seat. After a moment, his broad shoulders dropped, and he twisted the recipe book back and forth so the paperback spine cracked.

“If I go back with my memories, Levress will use a Shadow Fairy to look into my head and she’ll know I’m lying about you all being dead. Promise me, in return for you stealing my memories before. This is how you can make it right with me.”

The crackling fire logs seemed to grow louder in the quiet café. But finally, Mor dropped his silver-laced gaze to the floor. “I promise, Your Highness,” he said, almost too quiet to hear.

Without another word, he got up and left for the stairs.

A minute or two sailed by before Cress spoke again. “I know you’re listening,” he said into the café’s shadows.

Shayne sauntered from the hallway and plunked down in the open seat Mor had left behind. “Well, that wasn’t dramatic,” he remarked. “I expected him to at least throw a faeborn punch.”

“Mor is simply accepting my fate. Going quiet is his way.” Cress leaned his head against the backrest of the chair and closed his eyes.

“I’ve been thinking,” Shayne said.

“How horrifying.”

“We’ve been trying for days to come up with a way to undo that bargain with no luck. Accepting our failure to save you is one thing, Cress, but the Dark will come back for Kate once you leave. I’ll do my best to protect her, but you saw how fast things turned around in the cathedral yard.”

Cress sighed. “I have one last option with Kate Kole. I’ll send her far away from here where no fairy can find her. You must all leave with her. Establish a coffee tavern like this one,” he twirled his finger around in the air, “somewhere else.”

“How will you get her to do that, Cress? Are you going to utter her real name?” Shayne guessed. “It seems rather cruel of you to enslave her now, but maybe it’s best.”

“I told her I wouldn’t enslave her. Which is why I’ll try one last time to enchant her with a kiss before the day of Yule celebration comes. And then I’ll kindly ask her to leave this human city.”

Shayne was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees when Cress opened his eyes. The fairy dragged a hand through his silken white hair. “Why enchant her instead of simply enslaving her? Only enslaving her will guarantee she obeys,” he said.

“She’ll forgive me if she’s enchanted. She won’t if she’s enslaved,” Cress said. “By the time her enchantment wears off, she’ll be long gone and can continue her happy life somewhere else.”

Shayne tapped a finger against his knee as he thought about that. “Make sure the kiss lands right this time, Cress. Make sure she can’t pull away when you roll the enchantment off your lips. She likes you now, so it might actually work.”

Cress swallowed and glanced at the fire one last time. “Yes. I think it will,” he said.