For such a busy corner of the Otherworld, everyone respected personal space. We’d tackled nearly an entire section of the settlement and I’d only felt the odd stray shoulder bump. They never seemed malicious either, and weren’t ever followed by a glare or curse as they would’ve been in the human realm. Creatures were rushing around, but they didn’t use it as an excuse to be rude. Whether because of enhanced perception or ingrained politeness, they possessed a heightened sense of spatial awareness that most humans lacked. No doubt it was the reason I enjoyed myself so much. I wasn’t drowning in too much, too close, too tight, and I didn’t feel like a bother just for existing.

Cair being very obviously a prince may have been somewhat to thank for the distance, too. Not out of fear, but respect. It wasn’t hard to notice creatures swerving at the sight of his white hair, giving a slight dip of their heads as we walked by, and offering their most sincere smiles. The people loved Cair, that much was clear, and I felt a sense of pride walking beside him. He treated his people fairly, maintaining his poise and grace without shunning their blessings or looking down his nose at them as I knew some Fae would. He would make a great king—firm and composed, yet kind.

Even if, deep down, I knew it wasn’t what he wanted.

“Over here a moment, sweetheart,” Cair said to me before gently tugging my hand.

I followed him through the masses to a small shop named Tally’s, nestled between two other buildings, one pink and one yellow. An older monster—a satyr, I recognized from a book I’d read back at the palace library—sat under the shop’s awning, a table in front of him laden with a spread of intricately decorated Fae pastries and cakes. My mouth watered. They looked delicious.

“Your Highness,” the satyr greeted, both hands clutching the top of his walking stick as he shifted as if to stand. “Forgive me, I’m not as spritely as I used to be.”

Cair raised a hand. “No need to get up, Ivar,” he said, and the guy, Ivar, bowed his head before relaxing in his chair again. He set his stick off to the side.

“One hundred years, and you still remember this old fool’s name.”