Fionn, my best friend of the last three hundred years and the second person I wholly trust in this kingdom, waits for me by the gates to the city. Leaning against a wall, his towering frame is instantly recognizable—at nearly seven feet tall, he stands a head above everyone in the courtyard, myself included. Fionn pulls his shoulder-length blonde hair into a knot at the base of his neck and scratches the scruffy beard he tries to keep neat but never quite manages, scowling at the other guards who gape at him. He spots me and prowls over, and everyone lingering near him practically trips over themselves trying to get out of his way.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks, bronze eyes looking down at me.

I clap him on the back, then say, loudly, “Yes, my friend. Thank you for agreeing to escort me through the city to shop for a gift for my fiancé. This close to the Forum meeting, we can’t be too careful.” My father has eyes and ears everywhere, so Fionn acts as my guard. As one of the greatest warriors in Velmaran history, it’s a good guise, but we both know I don’t need his protection.

The gate guards open the side door for us, and we step into the capital of Velmara. The city of Arnia sprawls across the entire southern peninsula. As a seaside capital, the people here are on the water nearly as much as they’re on land. The Floating Market, the city’s largest shopping district, is nestled in a cove and sits atop the water, held up by ancient magic. Fionn and I head there to meet with our contacts for updates on the recent shipments of thayar flower.

As we walk, evidence of my father’s effective propaganda machine is on full display. His eyes stare at me from drawings plastered across walls and buildings, with headlines like Golden King Heads to Forum of Royals typed in bold ink. My own image is also present, stories about the Shining Prince just as popular as those about the Golden King. Fionn chuckles when we see an advertisement for an exclusive interview with a fae female claiming to be my long-lost mate. The masses will believe anything—especially stories about mythical mates. At least a dozen females a month show up to the palace gates demanding to see me, claiming they suddenly feel a bond with me that hasn’t been seen in our world for millennia, if it ever existed at all. I always send Silene to them with a bag of gold, knowing only the most desperate would attempt anything like that.