Legs crossed, apple in hand, Pretty heard the soldiers coming. She’d known they were coming for a while now, but she stayed because that was what Destiny asked. Looking out at the sun setting, the wooden doors to her empty room busted open, soldiers stormed into her room, making way for the king.

“You pathetic soothsayer, your predictions were wrong!”

“Oh, but au contraire, Your Majesty,” Pretty said with a smile. “You may have lived till now, but the day is not over yet.” His eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign that she could planning a murder. After a while, nothing happened and the king laughed.

“Now you shall burn witch!” He took out his knife and threw it at her neck. In a flash, the knife hit the apple that Pretty raised.

Pretty moved her hands around the knife. Suddenly, as the sun was beginning to fade away Pretty, in blue smoke, appeared in front of the king and stabbed his heart.

“Such a pity,” she said and suddenly disappeared in blue fire, on to find the next king: Arthur.