Again, the knocks started again. He breathed erratically for a few seconds before stumbling up.

It'll be okay. He just probably wants to... fire me in person. Oh no...

He took in a deep breath and held it, “Ooookay, oooookay,” came the squeaky word to try and reassure himself. Then yanked the door open. Once more, the king's eyes went wide with surprise. “Hi. I'm – I am so sorry. You see, I thought you might be – my – my landlady.”

He heard a squeak to his right. Irritated by the familiar sound, he glared over to the landlady standing next to him. She noticed she was spotted and waved broadly at the king.

“Hello!” She shuffled over. “I was just wondering what kind of person might be visiting my resident introverted, uh, resident.” She chuckled at the king, before looking at the young man. “You know your rent is due.”

His glare continued at her. “And you know I'm paid tomorrow, Mrs. Kowalski.” He waved his had at her to move away. He stepped to the side and gestured his arms into the apartment. “Please, uh... Do come in.”

Wide-eyed and still looking confused, the king stepped forward and into the dim little apartment.

“Uh, would your... friends,” he eyed the knights. “Like to come in as well?”

“No, they'll be fine outside for a few minutes.” The king stated, standing in the kitchen.

“Oooookay.” Came the high pitched unconfident sound out of him as he shut the door. “Well uh,” he pointed to the tiny galley kitchen. “This is the, uh the kitchen. And there's uh, well there's no dining room.” He chuckled nervously as he pointed to the coffee table and the small sofa. Across from them was a bookshelf full of books, and then a glass door leading outside to the back yard. Lined in front of it were a row of various indoor plants, one tall enough to reach the ceiling. “I mostly just uh, eat on the floor, at the table...” He suddenly felt very ashamed that his coffee table was so small and covered in books. “And uh,” he pointed down the hall to the right between the kitchen and the living room. “Back there's just the bathroom, a closet, and the bedroom. Nothing... fancy. Please uhm... Have a seat.”

The king stepped into the dim room. He noticed a few lamps, all turned off, and that the only light was coming from outside. Although it was a bright day, it was still like a cave inside. He noticed the blazer on the ground as he stepped toward the sofa. But he didn't comment and instead, simply just moved and politely sat down in the middle of the sofa.

“So, uh... Uhm... What... What can I do for you, my King?” He asked almost afraid as he softly stepped toward the sofa with his hands clasped together.

“Before that. I brought you these.” The king held up the small bouquet of flowers to the young man.

“For... me?” He asked reservedly as he took the flowers. His posture relaxed as he recognized the flowers. One was growing on the far side of the room and struggling to live. “Chamomile and vanilla flowers.”

“Yes.” The king nodded with a kind smile. “I believe their soft smell might compliment yours.”

“Uh.... Right.” He nodded and shuffled back to the kitchen. “Thank you.”

The king watched quietly as the young man fumbled around. He heard the muttering of “I don't have a vase” and “none of my cups are tall enough.” The flowers ended up precariously balanced in the tallest cup the young man had with some cool water at the base for them.

Then he returned to the king's line of sight. “What, uhm. So, what are you doing here – I mean – sorry, my King. How can I be of service?”

“I simply wish to continue our negotiations from earlier.” He stated rather effortlessly. “I still need an alpha, and you seem perfect.”

His jaw fell open and his shoulders slumped. His brows furrowed as he stepped to stand across from the king on the other side of the coffee table. “My King, look – I realize that it was rude of me to walk out on you earlier, but – if you're,” he gathered his courage, “If you're just here to evict me, or fire me from my job, just get it over with. I don't want a long drawn out punishment.”

The king's face relaxed as he himself became confused. “You misunderstand me. I am here, simply, to continue the talk. I hold no desires to end you current employment.”

“You'd have to end my employment if you want me to become your –” He stopped himself before saying something rude, and instead took in a deep breath.

“What are all these books?”

“My... My hobby.” He said in a soft weak voice. “Just like Mrs. Kowalski said – I'm an introvert. I don't – I don't hang out with people. I read instead.”

“And this is how you adventure out into the world?” The king asked, picking up the top book. He turned it over to skim the back's description. It appeared to be about a haunted house.

“Well, sort of. Not really.” He reached to snatch the book away but stopped himself. “I've got books about flowers, and ghosts, and this one is about a spider and a horse and scorpion, and it's just...” He felt himself starting to become excited, but then remembered that books were fiction. They were boring. The air in his lungs trailed off and he looked toward the light of the door. “Anyway.... My King,” he sighed pointing around him. “Now do you see? I have nothing, my King. Nothing to offer you. I lead a very mundane, indoor life.”

“I'd like to hear about it.” Stated the king as he noticed the spine of the book in his hand was thoroughly broken.

He sighed. “That's... my favorite book. I must've read it about fifty times.”

“So I can see.” Smiled the king.

He gestured around him, feeling himself start to panic again. “I do mundane things at work – tedious little things – and then I come home and read – sometimes I listen to a music program on the radio or something – and then I fall asleep – sometimes I don't even make it to the bed.” He shook his head. “Look, my King. We are firmly at a standstill. These negotiations cannot go on.”

The king lowered the book and placed it back onto the stack. “I fail to see why not.”