A/N: Another short one – just wanted to get something written tonight. Sorry for any errors, I can't keep my eyes open!

Dear Connor,

I'm so sorry that I missed your visit when you dropped by. Ember tells me you have finished your studies – congratulations! I always knew you could do it. You are smart, even if you don't realise just how much. I imagine it must have been a lot of hard work and book reading and study. I suppose it is a good thing to have something to focus on for a while. I'm sure your parents are proud, just like I am.

I wonder what task you are assigned to at the moment, and where. I really miss you, and I hope that you'll come back to New York again sometime soon. It's not the same without you. We have some new residents here, and each is unique in their own way. Hopefully you will get to meet them someday.

I hope that you are finding some enjoyment in your new job, as I've heard the work can be difficult. You deserve to be happy, and I hope you don't forget that.

I recently went on a trip to London – when you came here, in fact. It was nice to see the city again, as well as my old Institute. It holds good memories, as well as bad. Nothing that happened is the fault of the city, and I realise that I shouldn't be scared of it. Maybe I can show you it one day.

I hope to hear from you soon – please write back or visit, if you can!

From your faithful friend,

Steff

Kellan strolled through the Seelie markets, two guards trailing near him. He did not entirely see the need for them, but they assured him that the markets could get crowded and overwhelming, on occasion. There were many wares for sale, each one handmade and unique, from various weapons, to sweets and drinks to clothes, jewellery, ornaments and poultices. Many things caught his eye, and he enjoyed stopping to look. One stall had soft samples of silk on display, and he touched one briefly. He was keen to pick a gift for Ethos, although he didn't know what to choose. He wanted to pick something he knew Ethos would like, and hopefully something that he could use. Ethos was not easy to pick for, he decided, for he was not the type to want for much.

Stopping to talk to some stall keepers about their wares, he didn't realise that a crowd was starting to build around him, now that he'd been spotted. Turning back, he inhaled in surprise. A few of the braver ones tried to push gifts into his hands. One of the guards hurried to usher them away.

"Don't crowd around the Prince," she called out, making a shooing motion.

Shaking her head as she looked back at him, she sighed. "They should know better than this. They cannot even speak with you."

Kellan paused, surveying the fae that were there. They were all impure of blood, none with wings or other signs of purity. Some were even nymphs and other Seelie creatures. He felt a tenderness towards them, a calmness washing over him. "It's okay," he said, making a signal to the guard to urge her to stop. "They can come."

Some faeries tentatively approached him, bowing low in a sign of respect. One faerie girl offered him a glimmering jewel, murmuring something. Kellan could not understand it, although he tried, guessing that it was the language of the more common folk, which he had yet to learn.

"I do not have anything to give you in return," Kellan said, reluctant to take from them, even when it was offered. Another nymph tried to pass him a sash, and others battled to move closer. While he knew the Seelie didn't use currency, he did know that they often did trades. It did not seem fair, him taking from them and not giving, when he undoubtedly had more than they did. He wished he had thought to bring some things, but all he had on him was his sword, which was really only there for ceremonial purposes.

"It is fine," the male guard said, nodding to them. "They offer their gifts to you freely, and hope that you will accept."

"That is not a fair trade," he replied, although he was worried that he would seem rude if he didn't accept. Taking the jewel and the sash, he inclined his head, giving a thank you. The guards helped to take some of the other gifts, for he wouldn't have been able to hold them all. Many of those who were gathered murmured the same phrase, and Kellan looked over at the male guard.

"What are they saying?" he asked, curious. He hoped to soon learn the common Seelie tongue, so that he could understand better.

"They are calling you a name," the guard explained, glancing over at him. "Prince of Light."

Kellan hesitated, inhaling. "What does it mean?"

"I believe it is a term of endearment for you. It is not often that someone of your status would talk to them," he responded. "It is also a title of Saint Michael the Archangel."

Kellan knew of the angels of course, from his Shadowhunter days, and Michael the Archangel was said to be the leader of all angels. "I-… don't deserve such a name," he stammered, and he was touched to have their belief. "Although I am honoured by it."

The guard returned his gaze to the crowd. "Well, they believe you do."

Kellan's cheeks grew warm, and he made an effort to talk to everyone that he could. Perhaps he did not yet have the support of all of the older guards and higher fae, but he did have the hope and belief of those lower in status, and that was just as important to him. They were the ones he could relate to, and he sought to make their lives better in whatever way he could.

Maybe that was his calling.