"Spend time amongst the smallfolk."

That's what his father, Prince Maekar, had ordered him to do. Egg was more than happy to run off and act a fool with the peasant children, and Daeron was drunk off his arse somewhere. But Aerion found it ridiculous. Why should he waste time with cheap street performers and tasteless food?

He'd planned on slipping away to the training grounds when a flash of red caught his eye. A woman was standing off to the side, a bucket for spare coins in front of her. And in her hands was a sizeable dragon puppet. Each scale was carved and painted with precision, both wings papery enough to truly catch the breeze.

It was exactly the artistic tribute his House deserved.

The meager crowd vanished as soon as Aerion stepped up. Commoners scrambled out of his line of sight and left the poor girl standing there alone. Once he was close, Aerion kicked over the mostly empty change bucket.

"Their filthy coins are beneath you," he said, voice icy and calm. But there was a hungry fire in his indigo eyes as he looked her over. "You are much more suited for... bigger employment."

He jerked his head, the meaning clear. She would come with him or he'd take her himself.