(Requested)

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You're... you're a witch.

I suppose so.

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Making hot brown morning potions weren't really my forte, but it was something. I liked being a barista in the human kingdom, it was nice. The locals were very, very friendly and people would occasionally stop by just to see me. A little voice in my head always says it would be better if they actually bought something, but I say that its the thought that counts.

It was always my dream to cross the border and start my own little potion brewery. Just a few customers at first, and I thought nothing of it. I just loved doing what I did, regardless of the money. Soon, my business blossomed, and even the King's sons popped on by for a tart or potion. I've never personally met the king, however, and I think it would be best to keep it that way. I was whipping up some "white cloud foam" for the folks when the little bell hung on my door rang.

"Welcome!" I greeted as usual, not looking up. I was so busy whipping the clouds up I didn't realize the whole shop had gone silent. Finally, when I pushed out another order, I came face-to-face with the King himself. Harrow.

"Oh! Your majesty!" I bowed politely. "How may I serve you this fine morning?" He smiled at me, eyes gently creasing. I liked that smile.

"I'll just have one medium hot black morning potion. Hold the sugar and cream, thank you." I quickly scribbled the King's order onto a little cup and placed it next to the others, continuing with the line of orders. Someone elbowed me from behind the kitchen door and furiously whispered into my ear.

"That's the King's order! Aren't you going to do that first?" I simply shook my head and said my response loud enough for everyone to hear. Firmly, but calmly.

"If he truly is a King, he will respect his people and wait his turn. He will get his potion, but he will wait, like everyone else who have rights equal to his." Straight after, I went back to making orders and whipping up more edible clouds made of cream. After I pushed out a raspberry leaf potion, a molasses and cocoa ice with whipped clouds, and a mint leaf and blueberry iced leaf potion, the King's drink was next. I did my daily thing, and slid the cup over to the pick-up station.

"King Harrow." He grinned at me and winked, taking a sip from the cup. Humming in delight, he took another.

"Truly the best hot black morning potion I've ever had. I can't seem to get why people always get my order wrong." I laughed lightly and tilted my head in agreement.

"I get what you mean. There's clearly a difference. Maybe a little bit of magic." Harrow chuckled again and bid me farewell, to which I returned and went about my business. Taking orders and such. Once the shop had closed, which was early in the evening, I locked the door and headed back home. Home, of course, was my little hut in the woods.

I'd reached the small tree-covered abode and breathed in the fresh scent of mahogany, savoring the sickly scent of tree sap and berries. It smelled nice. Like spring. Being in the shop all day sniffing the beans I use for the hot brown morning potions wasn't pleasant, as my nose had gotten used to it and I could no longer smell the bitter yet enticing scent. I flopped down on my couch and read through my chores for the evening.

1. Pick berries and restock ingredients.

2. Feed the owls. You know they get peckish.

3. Check with Crow Master to see if there is any mail.

4. Practice spells. (Only underground! You blew up a tree last time!)

5. Eat fruit.

I sighed and closed the small leather-bound journal. Same routine every day. As always. Well, I'd better get to it. I spent the next few hours scavenging through the woods, picking herbs and berries, trying to find native fruits that I hadn't already owned. I'd picked a few wax pears for the owls to eat, fed them, checked the mail, and headed home.

The streets were bare, no signs of people anywhere. I hummed a little tune as I unrolled the curled up parchment I'd gotten from Crow Master. I picked open the ribbon and unraveled it, placing it into my pocket. Silk was pretty rare these days. I wonder who could have sent it. My eyes drifted down to the bottom of the sheet and I stopped dead in my tracks.

The king's seal. The wax emblem was stamped onto the bottom right corner of the letter, right next to King Harrow's signature. Am I in trouble? I scanned over the note, uncertainty boiling within me. I wasn't sure whether the note was regarding me, or the small remark I'd made earlier. I hope he wasn't mad.

Good evening,

I hope you're not too worried about my sudden appearance today in your shop. This letter isn't regarding any of those instances which happened in the afternoon, don't worry.

I breathed a sigh of relief, but kept reading, heart pounding in my ribcage.

The real reason I'm writing this now is to formally invite you to the castle for a cup of tea in the afternoon tomorrow, perhaps. If it's alright with you, I'd like to speak with you alone. In the case you do not feel safe in my presence, I will hire guards to escort you and stay with you in the situation I would be a potential danger to you.

Send a crow as soon as you can.

All the best,

King Harrow

I folded up the note and slipped it into my pocket. A sense of worry overcame me, and yet I was somehow elated and relieved that someone had figured out after this long of a time.

Hopefully the king doesn't see me as a danger.

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Dear King Harrow,

It would be an honor to join you for tea tomorrow afternoon. Regarding your offer of having guards following me around all day, to simply put it, I wouldn't like that very much. Your grace, it's overwhelming that you think so highly of me, but I promise I will be fine with you alone. There is no need for anyone to follow us anywhere, and hopefully you see to that. After all, we are just talking together, nothing more, nothing less.

Thank you for sending me a crow, your majesty. I will make sure to be on time.

Regards,

(Y/N) of the Braechen Woods

King Harrow hummed as he patiently waited for his guest, smiling amusedly at the response. So they do know what he was talking about. Figures. Only the best he could he expect from them.

A knock rang on the door with a brief sounding from the guards.

King Harrow, your guest has arrived.

He smiled.

Let them in.

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I calmly sat down and put my cloak beside me as Harrow waved the guards away, having them shut the door on their way out. He cleared his throat before beginning, taking out a couple of cups for us to drink from.

"I assume you know why you're here." I shrugged, making small gestures with my hands, lolling my head around, trying to form words with my mouth.

"Ehh... I suppose so. Pretty much." He chuckled and crossed his legs, adjusting the cuffs of his coat, priming and prettying them, making them neater, as a king always should.

"So, you're a witch, aren't you?"

"If you want to call me that, yes. I've found that the people of your kingdom aren't exactly the most accepting towards the creatures of Xadia." I chuckled, waving my hand towards the gold-rimmed porcelain cup, allowing it to float towards me. "Their prejudice against witches, from what I observe, is just jealousy, in my opinion. Even certain beings from Xadia aren't too fond of me either."

"And you're not an elf?" Harrow inquired, curiously observing my ears, checking to see any stray markings on my face. I shook my head and frowned, the tips of my mouth just slightly curving downwards.

"No, sadly not. I would be much happier if I were, though. Besides the fact that they're literally allergic to hot brown morning potions." Harrow's eyes widened, making a surprised face as he immediately set down his cup and plate. I smiled at his expression.

"You're kidding." I shook my head again, laughing while taking out my bag, flipping through my things until I brought out a flask of the stuff.

"No, sadly, your highness, I am not. I may do a lot of tricky things, but I do not lie. Especially to my valued customers." I poured him a cup and handed it to Harrow with two hands, then started to pour myself a cup, draining the rest of the mini-saucer. We both enjoyed the flavor of the brew, sighing as the potion slightly scorched both our tongues.

Harrow sighed and grinned.

"Truly divine. I can expect only the best from the best." My face flushed, waving my hands and smiling.

"You flatter me too much, King Harrow."

He laughed for what seemed like the billionth time this afternoon as we made small talk for the rest of the evening. Who knew being a witch could be this nice?