Back at home, changed into his pajyamas, the young man laid on his sofa. “Oh my gosh, I so just got myself fired! He'll get me evicted! Why did I have to rattle on like that? I was so rude!” He had his eyes shut tight as he wailed. Like a child he slammed his fists against the sofa on either side of him while shaking back and forth. “I just left like that – without permission! I really didn't mean to leave before he said I could – I was already out of the palace before I realized it!”

He yelped as the force of shaking around caused him to tumble onto the floor face first. He landed hard on his left shoulder. He groaned and felt like he was a pile of goo. “What if I offended him and he sends me into exile?”

A soft knock at his front door sounded into the silence of the tiny apartment. It continued rattling off for five solid seconds before stopping.

The young man eyed the door without moving from his graceful position on the floor, then shut his eyes. It's probably Mrs. Kowalski bothering me about the rent.

After a few seconds more, the same knocking pattern happened again, before again falling silent after five seconds.

Groaning, the young man pushed himself up. He grabbed the edge of coffee table covered in books, and the sofa's side, as he climbed up. He grumbled and fumbled about. His suit was a crinkled mess now. His tie hanging on the edge of the sofa and the blazer on the floor next to it. He'd undone the top few buttons of his shirt before sulking onto the sofa.

As soon as the knocking started again, he called at the door. “Yes, I'm coming. Mrs. Kowalski, I told you,” he reached the door and pulled it open inward. “I get paid tomorrow and I'll be able to.” His eyes lost focus on the bright light of outside. In the cool air of the midday, a light breeze, he immediately recognized the tall familiar figure of the King standing at his door with his hand still raised from having knocked it. Just over his shoulder, were two knights also dressed in moderately plain clothes.

Plain being a choice of words lightly used. The king was dressed in a plain suit, khaki pants, and dark blue blazer, with a pale cream shirt underneath. It was plain, and yet very fashionable. His hair looked a bit fluffier from the wind.

The king had wide eyes, apparently not expected the door to open in such a way.

Just as he recognized the long dark lashes, and the dark red wood color of the king's eyes, did he snap into a panic, and slammed the door shut. He slammed his back against it and felt his chest grow tight as he started to hyperventilate.

“Well.” The king blinked confused. “That was unexpected.” He mumbled.

“Holy crap. I just slammed the door in the king's face.” The young man felt all of the color drain from his face, at the same time as he felt the heat of a blush invade his cheeks intense enough to start a migraine.