BreadCrumb Trail (The Yellow Hoods, #2): Steampunk meets Fairy Tale by Adam Dreece Page A

Maucher
     
    Nikolas removed his thick crimson coat and hung it up on the first of the café’s coat hooks, as he’d done many times over the years. He looked at the red coat Isabella had made for him, remembering the last time they’d come to Deuxième Chance together. Isabella always thought the café’s name, “second chance,” applied as much to the two of them—having a life away from what seemed destined—as it did to the original owners.
    From the outside there was nothing remarkable about the Deuxième Chance. It was no more easily noticeable nor any bigger or smaller than the average Mineau café, but it had been Isabella’s favorite for some reason. 
    It had wide, honey-colored wooden floor planks, and white walls decorated with bits of town memorabilia and paintings of the founders and their family through the ages. It didn’t feel like a formal establishment, but rather like you were visiting a close friend and were in their parlor. 
    “Good morning, Monsieur Klaus. Did you have a merry Solstice? You looked at home on that stage,” said the current owner as he came out of the back to greet the day’s first customer.
    Nikolas made an uneasy face. “I don’t like stages and whatnot, Jerome, but I do like making people happy, and bringing them together. I was honored to have Mineau invite me.”
    “You did a great job. May I offer you tea?” he asked. Jerome’s father had taken the business over from Jerome’s grandfather, and now Jerome owned it.
    “Yes, please,” replied Nikolas. “Oh—would you mind putting this behind the counter until I ask for it? It’s important.”
    “No problem,” said Jerome, accepting the brass tube from Nikolas.
    Suddenly, it dawned on Nikolas that the café shouldn’t be open. “Wait, Jerome—shouldn’t you be closed, and having breakfast with family?”
    Jerome lined up the glasses and mugs on the counter. “Oh, I did have family breakfast. There’s only me and my aunt, and the sick man she’s taking care of. But, I know my customers—they’ll have had enough of their families and will want to go somewhere to have a nice drink, a tasty treat, and some peace and tranquility. Then, they’ll return to face family some more. It is, honestly, one of my busiest days of the year.” He looked at the clock on the wall. “They’ll start arriving in an hour or two.” He looked at it more closely. “I better wind it up—I suspect it’s running a bit slow.”
    Nikolas appreciated Jerome’s business savvy. “Good for you. Your grandfather would be proud.”
    Just then, with a burst of frigid air, a tall, regal-looking woman walked in and shut the door behind her. She leaned her silver cane against the wall and removed her white fur coat and hat. She looked around for someone to hand them to. Jerome swiftly came over to accept them.
    “Thank you,” she said mechanically, retrieving her cane.
    “Nikolas,” said the woman in a sharp, eastern kingdoms accent, “It’s good to see you. It’s been a couple of years since we last met. Was it in Marduchi?” She disliked speaking Frelish, but Nikolas always insisted that they speak the local language wherever they met—if possible.
    Nikolas rose, held the woman’s purple-gloved hand, and gave her a kiss on each cheek. “Anna, it is good to see you. I think it was in Parduchi, to the south of Marduchi.”
    Anna paused, not liking to be corrected, yet she didn’t care for small talk, either. “Ah, yes. Olive and orange trees—I remember.” She looked Nikolas over, up and down. “You’re keeping well.”
    Nikolas smiled politely. “Thank you. And you, too. Please, have a seat,” he said, gesturing to one of the tables.
    Anna sat down and glanced around. “You always choose this place when you meet in Mineau. Why is that?”
    Nikolas turned toward Jerome, who was behind the counter, and asked, “Jerome, a cup of Ernst Myers tea for the madame, please?”
    Jerome stopped. “Um, did you say Ernst