"King of Eldoria?" I muttered, scrolling through yet another news article on my phone. "This is getting ridiculous."
The screen showed an exaggerated account of my confrontation with the Thornton Family, complete with absurd claims that I'd forced Conrad Thornton to kowtow nine times and swear loyalty with a blood oath.
Eamon Greene glanced over from the passenger seat. "The public loves a good story, sir. And you've given them plenty to talk about."
I tossed the phone aside with a sigh. "I didn't ask for any of this attention."
"Fame rarely asks permission before arriving," Eamon replied philosophically.
We were driving toward White City, leaving behind the whispers and pointed fingers that had followed me everywhere in Havenwood since my confrontation with the Thorntons. What should have been a private matter had somehow leaked to the public, with each retelling growing more fantastical than the last.
