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Eve explores her fantasies with the help of a hot teacher.

An enchantress was one born with magic in the blood, almost always female, capable of twisting minds and senses to her desire without any of the limitations or need for schooling that the wizards of the Arcane required.

Garn shook his head slowly, and chose his words carefully. "An enchantress? Bah, they're worse than witches. But no, old friend, I ain't heard of one near here. Now, we did have a witch nearby, but she done up and died years ago."

The words were clearly not what Rufus wished to hear. "Prince Cantrol rides with me," the statement stirred another round of murmurs and alarm from the growing crowds. "He has been tasked with finding this enchantress, and turning her to our cause."

The old smith snorted and shook his head, "Even if you could find one, those hell spawn vixens are more trouble than they're worth."

"Worth it or not, it must be done. Squire George still holds these lands, does he not?" The rider turned his gaze toward the distant manor, which rose on a hill at the edge of the forests that bordered the village meadows. The crumbling stone structure was clearly in disrepair, even from that distant observation.

"Yeah, I guess you could call it that. Keeps mostly to himself since his wife passed. He just sends his daughter down to see to the taxes from time to time."

Rufus nodded, then turned his dark eyes toward the radiant Jenrea, who still stood within the yard of the Tepid Toad. His gaze lingered upon her in surprise, but not long enough to really worry Hafred. "You there, girl. Tell your master to have his best rooms prepared. The Prince will require lodging for himself and seven men."

The raven haired beauty hesitated just a moment, then beamed a radiant smile up to the lord. "Might have to double up, if that's alright, milord?"

Another curt nod was offered in response, "See to it then." And with that, Rufus spurred his horse onward, to ride back toward the oncoming retinue.

Hafred watched Jenrea disappear back into the inn, and caught her gaze just before she disappeared through the doorframe. The shy smile she shot him sent another blush across his soot smudged skin, before he averted his gaze. He hustled to catch up to Garn, as the old man had already turned back toward the forge.

"Prince Cantrol," Hafred spoke breathlessly, "here, in Ingley."

The old man shot him a withering look. "Don't go getting no ideas, boy. Your place is here, with hammer in hand. Then maybe someday with a pretty innkeeper's daughter and a slew of children, hmm?" He of course saw straight through Hafred's fancy.

"I doubt Jenrea has any interest in me," the apprentice shot back, though his own words made him feel more dejected. "But if I could impress the Prince's guard, that would be status, a name-"

"A home far away from your girl, days spent doing nothing but polishing armor and long hours standing around looking tough, with nothing to break up the monotony. Trust me, boy, the grass ain't always greener." Even as he spoke, old Garn picked up the spearhead he had been working on, and began to polish it once more.

Not yet ready to resume his own work, Hafred leaned against one of the workbenches. A thought then dawned upon him. "You know that man. Lord Rufus, who is he?"

Garn couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Black Dog Rufus, the Prince's bodyguard. Of course, when I knew him he was just a boy coming up through the ranks of the King's Men. Had talent, that one, and wit enough to keep his head."

Hafred thought there was far more to the story than his master was letting on, but pressing the issue was unnecessary. It was enough for his ambitions that old Garn knew the Lord Rufus. "Master?" He ventured, "Could you at least introduce me to him?"

"What, Rufus? You really want to try to become one of the King's Men? It's not like the old days, boy. They aren't so hard up for people that they often look beyond noble circles."

"I can fight well enough, you know that."

Garn nodded.

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