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 anunder constructionsign.
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. Yourbrother 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.
