Bring Me Edelweiss (Five Points Stories Book 2)

by Kyle Baxter

  A loud buzzing sound broke the spell.

  Freddie jerked back, out of his arms. “Oh, come on!” The loud buzzing continued in a rhythm.

  “What is that?” Joel asked.

  “That is Luc, downstairs, hanging on the bell. It’s his subtle way of letting me know the party is over. I guess they do need me tonight.” Freddie sank down on the sofa and picked up his glass of Pinot. “I’m sorry.”

  Joel joined him and put a hand on his knee. “Why are you sorry?”

  “I hoped to spend the night with you.” Freddie playfully bumped into him. He lifted the remote and pressed a button. “Fecking world has to intrude.”

  Joel took a swig of his wine as the TV hummed to life. The stereo system, and really everything, was all state of the art. Freddie turned the channel to a public news outlet with English closed-captioning.

  A blond man spoke in German as Joel read the English translation: Reports are coming in of a behind-the-scenes crisis at the castle. Rumors were flying before, but now, anonymous reports have surfaced, saying that the crown prince’s health is in question and that he plans to remove himself from the line of succession . . .

  Freddie turned the audio down and put his head in his hands. “Scheiße, I knew something was wrong—I told you I haven’t seen Karl or my parents yet?”

  “Is that unusual?”

  “Very. I expected them to meet me at the train and make a production out of it.” Freddie pulled his phone out of one of his pockets. “I turned it off when I picked you up today. Force of habit from the service and I didn’t want the storm of messages from Luc to interrupt us all day. I never worried about such things when I was deployed. And look, there it is: a torrent of texts and phone calls . . . Scheiße, or as you say, ‘shit shit shit.’” Scanning through them, he deleted most, then sent out a message.

  Frederick reached up and ran his hand over Joel’s face. “Thank you, Joey. This was a great day. Best I’ve had in . . . forever.” He gave Joel another kiss, quick and chaste. “And the best kiss.”

  “Yeah.” Joel let out a long breath. A prince just kissed me! I . . . I want to call everyone I know. “Me too. I mean, it really was the best day. Thank you. The kissing will do—for now.”

  One of Freddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh really?”

  “Yes, we may have to practice.” Joel waggled his eyebrows.

  “God, you’re a little shit sometimes,” the prince said, but his eyes glittered with amusement. He gave Joel another quick kiss before pulling away and standing up. “Let’s go, before Luc buzzes again. I have to drop you off at the hotel and get to the castle.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Back in Your Head

  As Joel walked through the double doors of the hotel, he clocked the doormen watching him with wide eyes. I guess they don’t see the royal limo very often, much less twice in one day. Freddie was quiet the entire ride from the apartment. Whatever happened was clearly serious. Were the reports on the TV broadcast true? What was so wrong with Freddie’s brother that this was being contemplated? It was scary.

  Freddie rarely brought up his family; they’d only known each other for a few days. Joel couldn’t guess how he must be feeling. He decided a glass of wine and a nice portion of Wiener Schnitzel was in order and made a beeline to the hotel restaurant.

  Finding an open table, he sat himself as per local custom. He deliberately faced away from the television at the bar so he could decompress for a moment.

  After the server took his order, she brought him a bottle of stilles Wasser and a glass of wine. He took a long drink and a deep breath. He shook his hands out; he’d been clenching them and didn’t realize it.

  Putting his hands up to his temples, he rubbed them. This is bonkers! He spent the day with the prince of a sovereign nation and just ran away from paparazzi. And that kiss! It was wonderful—and deep. It gave him tingles and even made his head swim. I kissed a prince! What is my life?

  Craving some normalcy, he pulled out his cell phone. Scrolling through the notifications, he sipped the Riesling. There were texts from Larry and a call from Five Points but no voicemail. Hmm, what’s going on there? It was surprising to hear from them at all. There was a system; important calls got a voicemail, nonessential ones did not. But . . .

  It was only noon in New York City, so he dialed their number first. “Enrico, what’s up?” he asked when his friend picked up.

  “Hey, Joel, sorry to bother you on vacation,” Enrico said. Joel was glad to hear his friendly voice.

  “It’s not a problem. I’m at dinner. What’s going on?” Joel nodded at the server as she dropped off the bread he’d ordered. It didn’t automatically come with the meal, and that took some getting used to.

  “I just wanted to warn you there was a hiccup and your vacation check will be delayed a couple of days,” Enrico said. There was the sound of shuffling papers in the background.

  “Oh yeah? What happened?”

  “Someone,” Enrico said, pointedly indicating a person in the office with him, “didn’t do payroll correctly.”

  “Really?” Joel’s face scrunched up. “Sheryl’s usually more on top of it than that.”

  “Yes, she is. This is Alex’s fault,” Enrico said, more to the person with him.

  “What is Alex doing there?” Joel asked incredulously. Alex was still involved with the business but usually only came into town to help with the big parties.

  “Oh, there was a family emergency and Sheryl drove down to help out for a while.”

  He popped a piece of Brötchen in his mouth. “Is she okay?”

  “Her mother had a fall, hurt her ankle.” Enrico’s tone was so off-handed that he relaxed. It wasn’t serious. “She’s taking some time off to help her.”

  “How is it having Alex back?” Joel remembered that Alex and Enrico were great friends.

  “It’s so nice, and he brought his other half and their kid—we’re all going to dinner tonight,” Enrico said, and Joel heard voices in the background. “Alex wants to know how Etreustein is.”

  How do I begin? Joel wondered. “Uhm, complicated.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, first my arrival was delayed—” Joel started. There was a beep; someone was calling in.

  “That’s my other line, sorry,” Enrico grumbled.

  “Not a problem. You’re at work,” Joel said. “I’ll talk to you when I get back.”

  “Ciao, bella,” Enrico said.

  “More like auf wiedersehen,” Joel corrected. “Italy is the week after next.”

  Enrico laughed. “I’ll do better next time. Have a great vacation.”

  “Thank you, have a good time with Alex.” Joel set the phone aside as his dinner came. He ate his meal in peace, his phone on mute and the news behind him. His mind raced.

  I miss Freddie. It was silly. In one sense, he barely knew the man, but it was true. You just saw him! He tried to reassure himself over and over. It’s okay.

  When he was with Freddie, it all seemed perfectly normal, rational. But now, sitting in the Sonne Hotel, he realized how insane it was. It was all just so much. Definitely an acre!

  And more, there was a nagging sensation along the back of his neck. Something about it all, Freddie, his life, and everything about that, struck him. This might be all we get, him and me.

  That frightened him, but as concerned as he was about whatever was going on with Freddie at the castle . . . At the castle! The afternoon at the shelter was a revelation. He loved his job at Five Points, but today, working beside Frau Müller, he felt useful and needed. This was it; this was what he was looking for. He was happy helping those people. I’m going back.

  ❖

  “There you are!” came his father’s booming voice as Joel wiped his mouth on his napkin, finishing his meal. The big man slid in the chair opposite him, beer in hand. “How did it go? Your afternoon at the soup kitchen with the errant prince?”

  Joel stared at him. “How did you kno
w . . . ?”

  Dad tilted his head and, giving him a sharp eye, gestured behind Joel toward the TV at the bar. Joel turned to see dim television footage of two men running down an alley.

  He twisted back around to his father. “So?”

  “Son, I went to enough of your track meets to recognize your run. And I know that was the prince and that you left here with him.”

  Turning back to the TV, Joel watched as the news reran the clip. Yeah, it was obviously his long, loping stride. Ugh, I don’t like this. I hope they don’t find out it’s me.

  “You have, shall we say, a distinctive gait.” Dad winked at him.

  “I really do.” Joel pushed his plate away, and the server stepped in and cleared it. He looked back to the television and cringed. I don’t even know how to deal with this. I’m on TV, running beside a prince I kissed. Me.

  His father leaned forward, his voice lowering to a whisper. “And did you talk to the prince?”

  “All day.” Joel looked away from him.

  The older man took a deep gulp of his beer and wiped his mustache and mouth with his hand. “I assumed that, but did you talk about business?”

  “Oh, no. I meant to get around to it tonight, but something intruded.” He gestured with his thumb to the TV. In truth, he forgot about his father’s business. Being with Freddie was distracting; everything else just fell away. The prince was the sun, shining bright and soaking up all of Joel’s attention.

  “I saw. Lots of rumors flying.” Dad leaned back in the chair and sat his pilsner glass down. “Are you okay?”

  “Me? Yeah. Why?” Joel’s voice sounded defensive. Why am I defensive?

  “You like him,” Dad said as he massaged his palm with his thumb.

  “Who? The prince?” Joel fidgeted and looked down at his hands.

  “Boy, I’m not an idiot.” His father’s eyes flashed. “We don’t talk about this stuff, but I can tell when you like someone.”

  “I guess.” Joel waved a hand in the air, trying to be nonchalant. He almost never talked about his love life with his family, much less his father. “I mean, he is a real Prince Charming and all, but it’s not real. It’s just . . .” He couldn’t finish the thought; he didn’t know what to say. All his feelings were so jumbled up. With Freddie, it all seemed so clear and right, but back in the real world, the doubts crept in. “I like him, I do, but I just met him.”

  After a long moment, his father nodded. “Well, get some rest. Your sister wants you to hit the slopes with her tomorrow.”

  Joel groaned.

  Dad started softly, “I know you want to see him. I get it. But if the rumors are true, I think he’ll be plenty busy tomorrow.” He bobbed his head toward the TV. “You can always see him tomorrow night. And, well, this is a family vacation. You have to spend some time with us.”

  “But you’re the one who told me to cozy up to him.”

  His father’s eyes glinted with amusement. “I also told you I could tell when you liked someone, right?”

  Joel sat up in surprise. “Yeah, you did. Wait, you’re saying that’s why you asked me to get to know him?”

  “I’m saying maybe. I thought we could kill two birds with one stone. You could hang out with a guy you like, and maybe I could get an into the royal family and not just the assistant to the minister of the interior.” His dad got up from the table. “And maybe this dumb old Mexican isn’t so dumb.”

  “You’re not Mexican, Dad. You’re from New Iberia.” Joel put his head in his hands.

  “I’m of Mexican descent.” The older man patted his back as he left the table and exited the restaurant.

  Joel ordered another glass of wine and turned his chair around to watch the news. There was a video from the party last night. Most of it from outside the castle when Freddie first arrived. A red carpet of sorts.

  Prince Frederick got out of the limo, stopped on the front steps, and turned for the photographers. He could be a movie star with his fitted suit and perfect hair. It looked almost blond in that light—did they give him highlights? He smiled and looked appropriately red-carpet bashful, but Joel knew that was real. Frederick’s tall friend Denis appeared by his side, along with Julia in the killer dress.

  Then they reran the video of their escape through the alley. How is this my life now? How is any of this real?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Changes

  The car pulled through the gatehouse, past a line of waiting reporters, and came around to the back of the castle keep. Luc opened the door for Freddie and followed him up the stairs and into the building. Inside, he found his mother coming down the long hall to greet him.

  Tall for a woman her age, she was appropriately regal-looking in her signature ivory-colored suit and her short, layered hair. Was it gray, or was it blonde? He assumed that was the point of the expertly blended ash-toned hue. She looked ageless.

  Rushing to meet her, Freddie then pulled her into a tight embrace. “It is so good to see you, Mutter. Where have you all been? I got back and your secretary told me you were out of the country. What is going on?”

  “Oh, Frederick, we’ve missed you so much.” She hugged him tight and kissed his cheek. “We were at Heidelberg University Hospital. We had appointments and details to consider. We expected you sooner,” she gently chided him. Her voice was strained, and she looked drawn. Not her usual determined self at all.

  “Heidelberg University?” He stepped back. Why did they go there? Something was wrong. “Are the rumors true? Is Karl really sick?”

  She took his arm and led him down the hall to his father’s office in the east wing. “Yes, it’s true, unfortunately. He’s been sick for a while.”

  He put his hand over hers. “Why did no one tell me?”

  “There was no need until recently. You were deployed, and he was in treatment.” His mother patted his arm. “We didn’t call for you until this latest MRI, and we were sure we had to.”

  Frederick slowed. “An MRI? What is he in treatment for?” His stomach tightened.

  Mama stopped and looked him right in the eye. She always was the one they sent to give bad news, like when they sent him away. “He was diagnosed with primary progressive multiple sclerosis seven years ago.”

  Seven years? He stopped in place. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Oh, Frederick, when you left, you made it perfectly clear you wanted nothing to do with us.” Her mouth set into a firm line, but her eyes were sad.

  “That’s not how it was,” Freddie protested. “I just wanted to live my own life.”

  “And we respected your wishes.” She took his hand and led him toward the office. “Besides, there was no need to tell you. He was in treatment and doing very well. His symptoms didn’t start to progress until two years ago.”

  He walked with her into the room, and his jaw dropped. Sitting in a wheelchair was his older brother Karl. A male aide hovered beside him. Karl, always so tall and strong. Such a robust man. Now he looked weak and small. Frederick rushed forward, took a knee, and embraced him.

  “Karl.” Tears stung his eyes.

  “Frederick, my little prince, it’s so good to see you.” Karl kissed his cheek and hugged him as tightly as possible.

  Freddie felt his brother’s hands trembling. “I am so sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “Well, it wasn’t exactly the kind of thing we wanted to talk about on the phone,” his father, King Leopold, said. “It would have gotten out. It is good to see you, boy.” He came around his desk to shake Frederick’s hand.

  “How . . . how bad is it?” Frederick looked back to his brother. “Mama said your symptoms are progressing?”

  “Yes, it started gradually with minor problems. I was tripping on curbs and when going upstairs. Nothing serious, right? And I was in treatment. It was manageable. But two years ago, I started needing a cane now and again. After Alois died, it got worse.” Karl took a deep breath and gathered himself. “Though the MS isn’t active per se, it is pro
gressing. It is a chronic disease, and I am slowly becoming more and more disabled.”

  It was like a knife in Frederick’s gut. He put a hand on Karl’s shoulder and squeezed. “I am so sorry.” This was terrible. Wasn’t Alley’s death enough? What more did they have to suffer? Frederick’s voice cracked as he asked, “What can I do to help?”

  “I know you do not want this life.” Karl gestured around the room. “But we had to call you home. If Alois hadn’t—”

  A sob from his mother broke the spell. She turned away and stepped to the window. His father followed and put his arms around her.

  Freddie started, “I’m not sure I understand. What does Alois’s death have to do with this?” His eyes darted around the room, searching everyone’s faces. He felt trapped and his hands shook. What is this about?

  “He knew. Alois was prepared for this eventuality.” Karl gave him a firm look. “We had a plan in place.”

  “I don’t understand. What eventuality?” Frederick asked, a feeling of dread creeping up inside him.

  Father walked back to his desk and sat on the corner. “Karl feels—we all feel, given everything—that it’s best if he stepped down. We’ll make the announcement in the morning at a press conference. Frederick, you’ll now be the crown prince.”

  “I . . .” Frederick stammered. No no no. He turned back to Karl. “Is that necessary? I mean, surely you can still lead a full life.”

  “More or less.” Karl bobbed his head. “I walk well enough most days. But others I need a cane after a few hours, and some days it’s easier to save my strength altogether.” He gestured to the wheelchair.

  “That’s why you haven’t been seen in public very often,” Freddie said. It made sense suddenly. The family was always concerned with what they showed the public. They had to be.

  “Yes, appearance is everything,” Karl said as if reading his mind. “I save my strength for the meetings I absolutely have to be seen at. And that’s the problem, Frederick. A king has to lead from a position of strength, especially with the coming challenges. Russia is knocking on the door of Eastern Europe again, Britain left the EU, and NATO is not what is was. And a king who grows more and more disabled every year is hardly leading from a position of strength. We owe our people more than that, don’t you think?”