Fionn and I continue to duck and weave through the throngs of fae and humans. They notice as I pass by, pointing and whispering, telling their companions whatever recent story or rumor they’ve heard about my exploits. Fionn’s looming presence is all that keeps them from swarming me. The people of Velmara know me as a fun-loving drunk, the Prince who has no interest in ruling and spends his days gambling, drinking, and flirting with women, despite being engaged to the most desired female in the entire kingdom. Of course they want to get close to that version of me. I play it up when I’m in public, the mask a protection from letting anyone, my father included, get too close to the real version of me.

As we pass by an open-air stand selling sweet treats, I lean over to pinch the bottom of the raven-haired shopkeeper, who I visit regularly to trade flirtatious barbs with. She lets out a flirty giggle and slaps me across the arm. I only wink at her as I keep walking, her laughs lost in the noise of the market. We pass another stall, this one selling various tinctures and ointments, run by a widower and his daughter. She’s as tall as I am, her long legs lean and golden. She doesn’t see me approach, wrapped up in restocking a shelf.

I lean in to whisper in her ear. “Hi, Kareena.” She jumps, nearly dropping the jar in her hand.

“Hawthorne! You can’t just sneak up on me like that,” she chides half-heartedly. I smirk, and she rolls her eyes flirtatiously. I wrap my arm around her waist and spin her in my arms as she laughs in protest, before setting her down and whispering in her ear again.

“Any news for me?” I ask, this time my voice low and serious. She shakes her head subtly, so I give her a kiss on the cheek and sweep away from the shop, Fionn on my heels. We continue in this way as we make our way through the Floating Market. I stop at each of my contacts’ shops, using my magnanimous charm as cover for my real mission—gathering information about my father’s and the noble’s movements. There’s little news for me today, only confirming my suspicions that with the upcoming Forum of Royals, my father is being extra careful about what might leak.

A gangly adolescent fae has the courage to approach us and hands me a thick trifold of parchment before quickly darting away as he calls out the topic of the missive. “The Witch Queen of Thayaria will be at the upcoming Forum. Read all about how the once prophecy-blessed Queen turned vile and became the phantom we all fear! Witch Queen news you don’t want to miss!” People swarm him, eager to get their hands on the government sponsored material.