• The man sighed as he graced his royal sight upon the witch's . . . prospects. His eye twitched involuntarily at the word "prospects" -- she probably gathered them in the slums just to mock him so! (It wouldn't be surprising, considering that his popularity was at an all-time low). Two were males, however -- proper, hardy males. He liked that. It was the girl that was a problem.

    The girl, unlike most, wore simple clothing in his presense. Her eyes were closed, and her hands were gripped to her white dress. Her light blonde hair (it was pratically white, for God's sake) wasn't the oddest thing -- it was her manners that appauled him the most.

    The other two men were kneeling deeply at his feet, but the girl was not. There wasn't even a curtsy emmiting from her.

    The man dared to glance sideways at the witch. As creepy as she was, as old and ugly, she was the wisest person in the land, as well as the most respected. If she choose the heir to his throne, then his popularity would immensely skyrocket! However, a puny girl as a canidate? There was no way he would consider --

    The woman harshly glared at him. She knew what he was thinking, and the glare demanded fair judgement for the girl and the men.

    Finally, the king cleared his throat.

    "I will interview you all one at a time," he anounced in what he considered his best commanding (and certianly kingly) voice yet. "First, the man in leather."

    The girl rose her head in intrest as the other man bowed and walked away. The girl then hurriedly followed, eyes still closed.

    The king smiled upon the man. He was clearly a hunter, like himself, despite the obvious poverty. Surely, he would have the best answers to his questions.

    "What's your name, son?"

    The man lifted his head a tad, answering, "Leroy McGullen, your Highness."

    The king nodded approvingly. A nice answer -- a good name and proper addressing.

    "What are your skills, boy?"

    "Hunting, your Highness -- I specialize in bucks."

    The king smiled. He himself hunted deer.

    "What would you do if you one day ruled the kingdom, Leroy?"

    Leroy allowed a smile. "I would punish all that infuriated you, your Highness, and make our country the strongest."

    Again, the king nodded. He agreed with his answer -- after all, it was how he himself would answer. The boy was also quite loyal.

    "You may go," the king finally stated. "Bring in the other man, as well."

    Leroy bowed at the throne and left as ordered. A few minutes later, the second man walked in and knelt at the throne.

    "What is your name, son?"

    The man continued to glance at the floor while answering, "'Tis Priest Gregory, my lord."

    The king was a tad surprised but did not show it. Calling him a lord meant that he was higher that God himself -- it was the highest complement that any mortal man could recieve, and one that he surely deserved.

    "I shall not ask what your skills are -- you being a priest is enough. What shall you do for the kingdom, Priest Gregory, if you one day rule?"

    "I would make all see the ways of God, my lord," answered the priest. "The kingdom would suffer no internal conflict or strife, and we could set our sights on new land for our peaceful kingdom."

    The king pondered this. This preist had the same idea that the hunter (he had already forgotten his name) had, but it was a better execution. He would be the next heir.

    "Very well," the king finally announced. "Send in the girl as you leave -- I want a word with her."

    The preist nodded a, "Yes, my lord," and left. A few minutes later, the girl slowly walked into the room, escorted by one of the gaurds. The gaurd left soon after the girl said a word of thanks.

    The king examined the girl once more. She was not bowing again.

    "Bow, girl," the king commanded.

    The girl was surprised.

    "Bow, sir?"

    The king flinched as he heard "sir". The other men were better at titles than her, as well as pure and simple manners.

    "Yes, girl -- I am king, and you must bow."

    The girl thought about this.

    "Why do people bow at your feet, sir?" she finally asked.

    The man raised an eyebrow, veins now bulging out here and there.

    "You puny, pathetic, hapless girl--" he spat out the words as if they were acid "-- it does not matter why you bow, but only that you do!"

    The girl flinched at this, obviously not expecting the answer she got. She tried a curtsy and looked down on the floor.

    The king nodded to himself. That was better. She didn't stand a chance against the preist, but with the witch watching him, the king had to give the girl an equal shot.

    "What is your name, girl?"

    "Abigale, sir."

    The king frowned. He disliked that name now.

    "What, if any, are your skills?"

    "I dance, sir."

    The king was a bit stunned by this. "You dance, girl? With your eyes shut, I presume, as you have your eyes shut even now?"

    The girl nodded. "I do, sir."

    The king was curious, despite his hatred towards the girl.

    "Dance for me, then."

    The girl glanced around.

    "Is this a clear room, sir? With no pillars?"

    The king emitted a, "Yes."

    The girl then began to dance.

    If no one knew that she was but a commener, a passer-by would have mistaken her as one of the best dancers in the world. Her white hair and dress whipped around care-free as the girl, with her eyes still shut, twirlled and spun in a full and beautiful circle, simular to the moon, as she then stopped in the exact same place and position she started.

    The king was agape, to say the least, but quickly gained his composure -- he had an interview to complete.

    "What will you bring to the kingdom, Abigale?"

    The girl thought for a moment. "Well, I believe that I would first open up a democracy -- let the people have some say. Then, I would try to decrease our national debt, if they elected me with ballots and such."

    The king was wide-eyed as the witch beside him started to laugh with glee. This girl . . . Abigale . . . would ruin all the precious work he -- no, the whole royal family had set up! Was she mad?

    "Mad? No," the witch answered, "just blind."

    The king looked at the witch, then Abigale.

    "Open your eyes," he commanded.

    The girl shook her head. "I should not, sir -- it would frighten you."

    The king believed that he had little to fear.

    "Open them, I say!"

    The girl slowly nodded and opened her eyes to reveal white.

    "She's blind, so she sees more than the other two boys," the witch explained. "Abigale here does not care about fancy wars and the like -- she only hears about news through no filter. She's my only real candidate for the position as your heir -- the first two lads were to show you the difference."

    The man was appauled.

    "I won't go for this . . . this evil scheme!"

    The girl, closing her eyes again, turned towards the witch, knowing her relative location by her voice.

    "Can I leave, Grandmother?" Abigale asked. "He's starting to erupt."

    "Of course, my dear," the witch responded. "I think he gets the idea why he's so frowned apon now."

    The witch pulled Abigale alongside her as the two left the hall before the king desided to behead them.