He wears a graphic t and jeans. In winter he ads a jackets. He's always clean shaven and has a high vis jacket.

He grows poppies. He's leaning to make painkillers. His mum had a chronic pain problem and he's trying to replicate the drugs that will keep him painfree if he ever starts to exhibit the same problems.

I was about to mention that series!

"Your an idiot Margy."

"Shut it."

"I will not. What was it Mother used to say. ALWAYS do the background research. ALWAYS. If you had then you wouldn't be saddled with a baby."

Margy looked over at the crib, and the child within. As with all these bargains, she could not harm the child. He gurgled, wrapped in fine blankets but otherwise unadorned. Not even a day old and his mother, though tearful, had given him up. After all, they already had an heir.

A FEMALE Heir.

She should have realized that something was up was they had agreed to give up their first born son so readily.

And now her darling sister Henny was reminding her how once again her laziness had bitten her in the backside.

"So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know." She stood and went to the crib. The child was red of hair and green of eye. She knew already he would grow to be handsome. She sighed heavily and turned away from the babe, instead looking over at the pile of letters.

In that pile were requests for her help. Farmers wanting to trade their best cattle for a good harvest. Lords wishing for the strength to defeat enemies. Royals in need of-

"I've got the best Idea."

Henny didn't like the smile on her sisters face. Sometimes it led to a good and lucrative ideas. Mostly it led to trouble.

"I use that enchanted basket. The one that freezes whatever inside? I mostly use it to keep the bread fresh, but I've kept a chicken in there for a whole month with no issues."

"You can't put the baby in there."

"Oh, I can and will." Margy said and grabbed the letter she needed.

"The Good Lord and Lady of Griffinths Island want a child. They don't care how or where from, just so long as it looks like them and can be bought to them in nine months and passed off as theirs's!"

Griffinths Island? Isn't that the place where the first born of each generation is crowned."

"Yes. I give them the kid, they get to rule the Island in it's stead until he comes of age. If he gets discovered, it's not their fault their child was replaced by a Witch, is it. Happens all the time. And becuase the Childs already royal blood..."

Henny's eyes lit up, "He will pass any lineage test. Oh, that is clever. That may actually work. What are they offering you in return?"

"First choice of the royal vaults once their in charge, 10% of the Pryth root harvest and all the MerCow eggs I want."

Before Henny could say anything, Margy had thrown the bread from the basket and put the child within.

X X X X X X X

Nine months later and Margy had given the child a dunk in cowl after birth, and delivered him to the New Queen of Griffinths. She'd take one look at the child and smiled like it was her child. Even the king was satisfied.

"We're not bad people. It's just my Younger brother is nearly 29, and he still whose and acts like a man of 14. He cannot be trusted with the kingdom should be knocking up some unfortunate girl. That's how our Cousins wound up in a treaty with the Frathmites. No, we'll raise this lad to be a responsible leader."

Margy didn't really care beyond the fact that these two wouldn't hurt the brat, mean she wouldn't have to worry about keeping her end of the treatment clause up. There was a protection spell to warn her should he grow ill or at risk, but beyond that she wanted nothing to do with him.

She left within the hour with several bag of very expensive Pryth root and a sack full of eggs.

X X 17 YEARS LATER X X

Henny stood on her sisters now grand doorstep and waited. When a servant finally opened the door she rushed in, carrying the paper with her.

Her sister lay in bed and was not pleased to be woken. The paper that was unceremoniously thrown on her bed read the headline

' GREAT QUEEN ASTHERTIC TO BEGIN SEARCH FOR HUSBAND. '

"And why are you showing me this?"

"Guess whose sending their King for consideration?"

"Shit."