“Why is it you again?” For the seventh time, Phoebe saw the King near her new home. Each time, she greeted him with the same question.
And each time, she got the same reply. “It’s my kingdom, why can’t I be here?”
This day, he told her of impending war. “Among my generals,” he added. “Defending against Hector is no problem if my generals were getting along with each other.”
“They’re not.” The King sighed. “Why is this happening now of all times, when Hector is only a couple months away?”
Phoebe sat on the grass, deep in thought. All the time she’d spent there, she had been wandering around like a stray cat, she hadn’t plotted her revenge. Hector, now, was the same emperor that had destroyed her land through his manipulative game of deception.
“Hector, huh,” she murmured.
“You know Hector?”
“Everybody knows him. Isn’t he famous?”
“He is.” He sighed again.
They sat in silence for a little while. Then, she said, “Hire me.”
“Hire me as your general.”
“It’s not just Hector. There will be other battles before he even comes in person. And aren’t you a woman?”
“Want to try me?” Out of nowhere, she whipped out a scythe. Burning red, just like her dress.
“You’ll die before Hector even arrives.”
“Try me then.”
“Are you ordering the King?” The seriousness was temporarily replaced by an absent-minded smile. “But alright, if you insist. Show me what you’re capable of.” Saying so, he drew his sword.
That night, she confirmed her suspicion of why the King would be alone.