The Hero’s Guide to Saving Your Kingdom. Christopher Healy

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      Here’s what a typical day for Liam might be like: Breakfast; foil a burglary; lunch; rescue lost children from ferocious wolves; serve as guest of honor at ribbon-cutting ceremony for new blacksmith shop; dinner; carry frail grandmother from burning building; healthy snack; bed.

      Of course, Liam never realized it was all unnecessary, that he could have lolled about in a hammock all day, sipping juice from a coconut, and his people still would have idolized him—which was fortunate, because Liam’s reputation as a hero meant everything to him.

      The one time Liam wasn’t around to stop a crime—when the legendary Sword of Erinthia, a priceless heirloom, was stolen from its display case in the royal museum—he prepared himself for the worst. He assumed the unending stream of praise and admiration would quickly dry up, so he gathered the citizenry to apologize to them all publicly. He was shocked to see that people arrived carrying signs that read, WE HEART LIAM. Somebody had even carved a butter sculpture of him. Seriously, they didn’t care about the heroics.

      At least, they didn’t until the Sleeping Beauty incident. If Liam hadn’t come to the rescue there, the royal wedding would have been at risk. When an evil fairy put Princess Briar Rose—and all the people of Avondell—under a spell that would have kept them asleep for a hundred years, you’d better believe the people of Erinthia wanted Liam to head over there and save the day. Which he did, of course.

      Liam tracked down the bad fairy, snuck up on her, and held her by the wings until she revealed that kissing Briar Rose would break the curse. Once he had the information he needed, Liam nobly released his foe. The fairy repaid this kindness by transforming herself into an enormous toothy demon and trying to bite Liam’s head off. After a long-drawn-out battle featuring backflips, body slams, karate chops, and even a few good horse kicks, he won the day by running the fairy-beast through with his sword.

      One quick peck on the lips later, Briar Rose and her entire kingdom were eyes-open and celebrating.

      The weeks that followed were among the happiest of Liam’s life. He was treated to parties and processions in both kingdoms, and a seemingly endless stream of awards and gifts. The only sore spot came when minstrels began spreading “The Tale of the Sleeping Beauty” far and wide. Liam had never been much of a fan of Erinthia’s royal songsmith, Tyrese the Tuneful—the man seemed too obsessed with singing about bad guys (“The Ballad of the Bandit King,” “The Giant Goes A-Smashing,” “The Bandit King Rides Again,” etc.) to bother writing songs about any of Liam’s heroic exploits. And now that he finally had, he managed to leave Liam’s name out of the story entirely. The prince was seriously irked but took solace in all the adoration he got from his hometown crowd.

      After the hullabaloo finally died down, it occurred to Liam that he had never really spoken to Briar Rose other than to say, “Good morning. You can consider yourself rescued.” He was curious to know more about her. So he did something extremely rare: He sent her a note. Even more shocking, he suggested they meet. In person. Two people from different kingdoms—who are engaged to be married—seeing and talking to each other. Crazy, I know.

      Liam sent a message suggesting that he and Briar meet in the Avondellian royal gardens and spend some getting-to-know-you time together. He was surprised when the princess’s reply came back reading, “What’s to learn? I know your name. I know where you live. Just be there on the wedding day.”

      Liam decided to try again. His messenger returned to Avondell with a new note in which Liam eloquently and passionately explained why it was so important for him and Briar to truly know and understand each other before they got married. This time the response was slightly more positive: “Whatever.”

      And so they met. Back when Liam had first seen the sleeping Briar Rose, he thought she was, indeed, a beauty (which made the whole kissing part somewhat easier). With pale white cheeks and thick, auburn curls that surrounded her head like an enormous, poufy halo, the princess had appeared soft and sweet, almost angelic. But as Liam walked into the rose garden that day and saw Briar standing with her hands on her hips, her brows arched, and her lips twisted into a tight knot, he was taken aback. Something seemed much harsher about her. Liam tried to overlook it and approached her with a gentlemanly bow.

      “Thanks for meeting with me,” he said. “With the wedding only a few days away, I’m looking forward to getting to know the real you.”

      Catching him completely off guard, Briar put both hands against his chest and pushed him down onto a nearby bench. “Listen up, hero,” she barked. “Don’t think that just because you offed some witch, you can take charge here.”

      “She was a fairy, not a witch,” he said, stunned by Briar’s forcefulness. “And I’m not sure what you’re upset about.”

      “I know you’ve got a pretty high opinion of yourself,” Briar said. “But that’s not going to fly with me. My parents raised me to be a proper princess. That means I get what I want, when I want it. In this marriage, you work for me.”

      Liam was flabbergasted. “I work for the people,” he said. “I offer my services wherever I’m needed.”

      “The people! Ha!” Briar snorted, whipping her impressive mane of curly hair. “The people are here to shine my tiaras and cook my puddings. I had to spend my entire childhood in hiding because of that stupid witch—”

      “Fairy.”