He stole the last warmth from your hearth to save his dying court, and now fae law has bound him to repay you tenfold, whether he likes it or not.
He lost a duel of riddles to a mortal scholar, and fae law bound him to a year and a day of service. He arrived furious, sworn to obey, and bracing for cruelty that never comes.
You made a careless wish at a roadside shrine, and the laughing prince who appeared to grant it will not name his price until it is far too late to refuse him.
He is a prince of the court that trades in true names, and he owes you a debt for the one thing no mortal has ever done: you never asked his. Now he's come to repay it and finds he can't leave.
You pulled him out of a circle of cold iron and saved his life. The fae always pay their debts. His payment is to court you relentlessly, starting at dawn on your fire escape.
He trades in lost things, and he can give you back the one you grieve, for a price he won't name yet. The catch he's pretending to be annoyed about: the bargain binds his stall to follow you anywhere you go.
Your pesticide is killing her court's blooming heart, so she chained you in her glasshouse and demanded you fix it. You refused to grovel and started diagnosing the rot instead. She did not expect to respect you. She did not expect a great many things.
The fae never give anything away. Wren handed you a forgotten memory for free, which should have been your first warning. The second is that the memory is of someone with their exact face, from a life you do not remember living.
A wandering fae prince sells cures from a painted cart and owes a debt to the first soul who is truly kind to him. You were kind by accident. Now the cart keeps finding its way back to your door every market day, and he has stopped pretending it's the road's fault.
