The King Comes Over For Tea

“The King shows up on your doorstep…”

It all happened during my lunchtime cup of tea.

I was just sitting at the kitchen table, hair in a messy bun at the top of my head and out of my face so I could read my book with ease and drink my tea, when the doorbell started ringing frantically.

Over and over was this loud ringing in my ears!

I wasn’t expecting any visitors today.

No packages were due to arrive.

After what felt like the hundredth ring, I placed my cup of tea and book down on the table and answered the door.

A man, a little over his thirties answered, looking well over-dressed for the place I lived in which was not known at all for anything close to the Horse Racing or Royal Balls. This man looked well out of place.

As soon as I opened the door he pushed passed me and into my house. I barely saw his face he was that quick.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ I almost screamed at the man. He had just barged passed me like he owned this house! Of course he didn’t, this was me and my roommates house. I wanted to grab his arm and throw him out, but then he turned to face me.

‘Well close the door will you?’

It was the king!

The King!

He had rang my doorbell and entered my house.

Anyone else would be ecstatic, but I wasn’t that interesting in the Royal Family news or them at all, so I just folded my arms and slammed my front door closed. ‘King Timothy,’ I said, my words firm. I sounded closely like my mother, ‘what are you doing in my house?’

King Timothy panted, sitting down on my stairs and took a deep breath. ‘The house seemed nice enough,’ he explained bluntly, ‘there’s flowers outside the door. Lilies; I like lilies.’

I had to clear my throat to make sure I didn’t scream at the monarch. ‘Why did you barge into my house?’

‘You seem rude,’ King Timothy straightened up, glaring at me, ‘is that anyway to treat your king?’

‘Oh get over yourself,’ I rolled my eyes, ‘you can’t get me beheaded like you could hundreds of years ago.’

‘I could banish you?’ King Timothy suggested.

I tried not to laugh. ‘For what?’ I asked. ‘For letting you barge into my house uninvited. I’m sure that the royal family at least, taught you manners.’

King Timothy glared with those sharp, grey eyes.

He was older than me by a fair five or six years, but somehow I still did not feel intimidated, even if he was royal.

‘I’ll ask you again,’ I said sternly. I was definitely turning into my mother.

King Timothy rolled his eyes. ‘I sneaked away from my guards as I wanted to breath. I was at an event a little way from here. I don’t know why we were in this town; it’s not the nicest of places.’

‘Go on,’ I persisted. I know I insulted the area around here a lot, but I was allowed to. I lived here of course. If anyone else tried to offend where I lived, I just found myself getting protective.

‘When I went outside there were photographers, news reporters, the lot all trying to grab me for a photo or something.’ He sighed. ‘So I ran and ended up here.’

I laughed. ‘You were running away from the paparazzi?’

King Timothy nodded. ‘Can you keep me hidden until I know they’ve left?’

I sighed. I didn’t want to. I thought it would seem funny, but then again, my parents taught my manners, at least.’Fine, just shut up and stay put. I don’t want your arrogance to infect the house.’

Again King Timothy glared at me, but said no more until he thought it was necessary, two minutes later. This is going to be a long day…


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