A knock came at my door once again. I rolled my eyes and sighed. Taking a deep breath I put on my best smile, though I fear it looked fake, and opened the door. There, in the mud and rain stood the king, a chariot and nearly a whole caravan behind him. The king was and odd sight at my cottage door, like a peacock in a pigsty. His long auburn hair was braided and hung over his right shoulder. His attire was clearly for riding but still was more ornate than any clothing that had ever touched my body. Leather riding boots, black breaches, a satin white tunic with a stunning green vest under a deep black cape. The green vest brought out the gold in his eyes nicely and made his auburn hair seem to catch fire, even on a dreary day. I had to admit he was a stunning sight. A small anxious man hover back and forth behind the king with an umbrella, trying to find the best position in which to keep the king dry. The king cleared his throat, waiting for me to bow I’m guessing by the way the man with the umbrella eye’s widened. I gave a half hearted bow, barely bending my back.

“Your Highness, to what do I owe the honor of your presence to my humble cottage this morning?”

The king took that as his invitation inside and breezed passed me, nearly knocking me over in the process. His cape dragged behind him tracking mud onto my newly cleaned floors. He turned and stood in front of my hearth, leaning on the mantle as if he were an old friend but also like he was posing for a royal painting. I had chosen this cottage specifically for it’s distance from the town and lack of ease to spot or get to from the main road. Yet here was the king himself, in my home.

“Have you considered my proposition with more...care, Miss Spectre?”

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my emotions and annoyance.

“Your Highness-“ the king held up his hand to silence me,

“Zephryn, please.” The butler cleared his throat and shook his head at me from behind the king.

“Majesty, I have already given you the answer to your...generous offer.”

“Tsk. Oh Aros’ beard. That wasn’t an answer. I won’t be put off Miss Spectre, and I really would prefer we use a first name basis...” he paused waiting for me to give my name but I left the silence grow until it was thick enough to slice with a butter knife. The king sighed.

“Miss Spectre, why must you vex me so? I’m not sure what more I can offer.”

“That’s precisely the issue, your Excellency. I want for nothing but solitude and autonomy , both of which your offer cannot give me.”

The king sighed dramatically. "Come, come woman. No one wants to be all alone out here in such a drafty old hut." He waved a hand at my home. I crossed my arms, growing impatient now.

"I do. It's the perfect distance from that noisy city of yours." I hoped to annoy the king but he seemed to be immune to my direct jabs. He continued undeterred.

“At the palace, you'll have your own chambers to live and work. You'll have access to the finest materials in which to craft potions and medicines. You'll have assistants, books, anything you can want in exchange for being the royal sorceress-" this time I interrupted

“At your every beck and call making potions and spells as weapons for your war? As I said before, No thank you."

I opened the door to usher them out. It was still raining, harder than before, to fit my sour mood. This time the handsome king scowled deeply.

"I'll find a way to entice you yet, Miss Spectre. You could be Lady Spectre High Scorceressof all Illium." I did not reply but bowed and waved a hand through the door. "Always a pleasure, Your Majesty."