It isn’t every day that the Crown Prince of Kremnos would play with the likes of children, would he?

His hair is gathered gently behind his ears, loosely braided in soft spirals. Small, careful hands have woven fresh blossoms between the strands—snow-petaled hyacinths, starlilies, pale forget-me-nots still kissed with morning dew. He sits beneath the shade of a blossoming tree, surrounded by the youngest children of Kremnos. Their laughter echoes like wind chimes, delicate and sweet, as they proudly show him another flower.

And Mydei—Mydeimos smiles.