Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ The Charade ❯ Black Horse and the Cherry Tree ( Chapter 3 )

Chapter Three: Black Horse and the Cherry Tree

 

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1

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Flamma-regi, queen of Laedel, sat regally upon her velvet cushioned throne and stared down in distaste at the row of people lined up to greet her. They would step forward, bow, stammer out something moronic and boring, then amble away like a shaky chicken. She was not enjoying herself. And really, if all these citizens had come to see her, the least they could have done was dressed up… or bathed. But most of them looked like they had just stumbled out of the pub after being in a bar fight.

 

It was the same way every year, and the monotony was beginning to wear on her last nerve. When her husband, Cadavna-regna, had been alive, the peasants would flock to his feet, trip over themselves to stutter for his ears to hear, and not hers. But he was dead, and his poor, widowed wife was left with the duty of appeasing the filthy common folk. To say Flamma-regi was still bitter would be something of an understatement.

 

Even worse this year was that her very last, small comfort had been taken away from her. Traditionally, her son would sit at her side in his own throne. She could easily direct the people's attention to him when she grew fed up with listening to them, but Cerasus-dyn was not present now. He had contracted a horrible fever and was currently holed up in the royal family's private tent, in a space behind the stage, protected by the city guard. Inside it, several highly paid doctors fluttered around him like mother hens, doing their best to cure him in the swiftest way possible, so the queen would be happy. If she was happy, they kept their jobs. And their heads.

 

Every time a citizen came forward to pay homage to Flamma-regi, a footman would ask their name, and then announce it to the waiting queen. She never remembered the hundreds of names that were called, but that didn't faze her. She doubted she'd ever meet any of them ever again. Unless they were being accused and tried for treason.

 

“Calcifex, the… w-wizard!” shouted the manservant to Her Majesty, his voice wavering on the last word. This caught Flamma-regi's immediate attention.

 

Her steel gray eyes, skillfully able to strike fear into any paltry peasant, widened and settled on the man stepping up to the base of the stage. He was tall, but not overly so. His black hair matched her own dark locks so closely that it was almost as if they might have been related. Shining green eyes met hers, and in them she was unable to identify any fear or anxiety. Only… was that… amusement? A spark of irritation rose up to burn inside the interest that had been set aflame inside her mind.

 

“Hello, Your Grace. It's an honor,” the man called Calcifex said. He bowed low with a dramatic sweep of his arm. When he straightened up, he was smiling, and it was hard for the queen to deny that he looked positively handsome. But the barely veiled arrogance that was etched into his pretty face set her off. She gave him her most formidable scowl.

 

“Greetings, wizard. Please say your part, and be quick about it.” Her voice was sharp and cold, a sheet of freezing hail raining down around the people below. Several of them shivered.

 

“Ah, Your Majesty, you see, I am not of these parts. I come from a place rather distant from here. I only wished to have the pleasure of meeting you,” Calcifex told her. He spoke like they were long lost friends, and it continually angered and intrigued Flamma-regi, who had never met anyone, let alone a wizard, quite like the man at her feet. He continued to speak.

 

“But now that I've gotten here, I do find that I have a question. May I, Your Grace?”

 

The queen took a minute to come to her decision. She decided that listening to this conceited, beautiful man talk was better than what would come once he was done: an old man with a total of two teeth in his entire head was in line behind him.

 

“Very well. Make your inquiry.”

 

“My thanks, Your Grace. And now I wonder, why is the throne beside you empty? Is someone supposed to be filling it?” His last sentence was filled with suggestive tones, and his jade gaze promised things that no one dared to proposition Flamma-regi with.

 

Her Majesty found her blood boiling for two altogether separate reasons. A wild thought flickered into her brain and would not be banished. What if, she wondered. What if, what if, what if…

 

What if she were to indulge the far-too-forward wizard and take him to bed? She'd had absolutely no fun since Cadavna-regna had passed away. Though she would not have minded getting more than friendly with a couple of her servants, none were too clever. They would undoubtedly blab the stories of their secret liaisons with the queen to anyone who would listen. But this man… This… wizard, and that dangerous word fluttered seductively through her head, he could be the release she needed.

 

With a well-disguised smile of triumph, Flamma-regi gazed down upon Calcifex. With her black hair combed back into an impossibly tight knot, accentuating her high, sharp cheekbones, the effect her stare had was quite impressive. People in the crowd cowered behind their neighbors, or swore under their breath. But Calcifex just stood there, hands clasped behind his back, grin in place on those horribly enticing, arrogant lips.

 

Flamma-regi was slightly ticked off that she couldn't rattle the man, but she persisted anyway. “This throne belongs to Cerasus-dyn,” she declared. “Unfortunately, he has fallen ill, and is unable to sit through the procession.”

 

Calcifex actually looked disappointed for a split second, but then he disposed of the feeling and replaced it with another smirk. “I see. Well, again, I offer my gratitude towards Your Grace, for putting up with my ignorance.” He took one more bow. “Good day to you, Your Majesty.”

 

The wizard pivoted and began to walk away. His dark head bobbed up and down as he weaved through the line, and Flamma-regi did not stop watching him until he was almost completely out of sight.

 

Then she extended one highly manicured hand and beckoned to the nearest guard. He was at her side in a moment, leaning down so she could whisper into his ear.

 

“Follow that man. Seize him and bring him back to the palace. If he struggles, tell him you're under the orders of Flamma-regi. Do you understand?”

 

The eager guard gave her the affirmative and leapt deftly off the platform.

 

“Y-your Grace?”

 

A wizened, shaking voice interrupted the queen's churning thoughts. She looked down, ire sunken into every pore of her skin, and saw that the next person in the queue had stepped forward. The toothless old codger. She almost, almost, forgot her manners and groaned in aggravation, but through a combination of rock-solid will and superior awareness of her rank, she managed to hold it in. She forced what was supposed to be a pleasant smile - and came out looking more like a disgusted grimace - and bade the elderly man to speak. He started babbling in a barely coherent tone, and Flamma-regi could feel a terrible headache blossoming behind her eyes.

 

`Dear gods,' she thought to herself. `This is not what I signed into… Not at all.'

 

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2

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Calcifex was in a relatively superb mood as he strolled down the main street away from the stage and the beautiful queen upon it. He had the distinct feeling that he had made a rather lasting impression on the woman; unless his usually reliable intuition was sending him false signals, he believed that he would be meeting again with her soon.

 

Perhaps sooner than anticipated.

 

“Hey, Cal, we're being followed.”

 

Calcifex glanced down at the pocket that housed Sidereus and then casually cast a look over his shoulder. Sure enough, a royal guard could be seen trailing him only a couple dozen yards away, and he appeared to be hastily shortening the gap.

 

“Hm. Well now, this could be interesting,” said the wizard, and he ducked into the next side street.

 

“Interesting? What do you-“

 

“Hush,” Calcifex warned the light spirit. “He's coming.”

 

Reluctantly, Sidereus stopped talking. A few short moments later, the sentinel rounded the corner of the alley and came face to face with his prey… Almost.

 

Calcifex was a considerable amount taller than he was, and the poor guard began wondering what he had gotten himself into as he was forced to crane his neck backwards to look the wizard in the eyes.

 

“Uh… You're, uhm…” The shorter man had to stop his attempts to talk and swallow slowly. He mentally braced himself and tried again. “Sir, you're being apprehended by the Official Protective Force of Laedel, under orders of Her Greatness, the m-magnificent Flamma-regi.” There. He made it almost all the way through his statement without stammering.

 

Calcifex didn't try to stop his amused smirk from surfacing. “Is that so? By all means then, let us not keep the queen waiting!”

 

The guard, whose named happened to be Wesli, which he had forgotten to mention in his apprehension proclamation, blinked several times in a surprised manner. Why did this man seem so eager to be under what was essentially arrest? Were all magic users so strange?

 

“Well,” Calcifex said impatiently. “Aren't you going to bind me or something?”

 

Wesli was effectively snapped out of his confused thoughts. “Oh, right!” he said smartly, whipping a length of black rope out of his belt. “Do not try to get away,” he cautioned as he was wrapping the cord around Calcifex's outstretched hands, although something told him that the warning was unnecessary. “I'll be forced to incapacitate you if you do.”

 

Calcifex laughed; he was surprised to hear such an intelligent word spoken by this obviously dimwitted specimen. Besides that, it was highly unlikely that any one of the city's fine soldiers could take him out. Unless they had some of their own magic at their disposal.

 

With a newfound, but perhaps falsely placed, confidence, Wesli dragged Calcifex along by his ties with his head held high and his chest puffed out in a self-important manner. It soon became apparent to the captured wizard that he was not simply being led back to the queen's stage, but to a completely different destination.

 

“Where are you taking me?” he asked, earning a sneer from the guard.

 

“To the palace, of course.”

 

`Ah.'

 

“Hm, you know, you seem to be such a strapping young lad,” Calcifex said. “I wonder if you would happen to know why the queen has called upon me like this?”

 

This caused Wesli to scratch his chin in what appeared to be deep thought. “She didn't say… But it's her business, isn't it? Wouldn't be right for me to ask.”

 

“Yes, of course.”

 

It didn't take too much longer for the Palace of Laedel to become visible on the horizon. With its tall, bright white towers and monumental arches, it was quite the impressive sight. On top of each cone-shaped spire a golden emblem had been fixed: the insignia of the royal family. It was a seven pointed star, with a swirling, fancy `M' placed in its center.

 

“What does that stand for?” Calcifex inquired, nodding towards one of the shining decorations.

 

“Oh, that? Well, it's supposed to be the initial of Laedel's very first king. But there's all kinds of tales about it. Old myths, ya know? Some people say it stands for `murder,' or something off like that,” the guard answered, frowning.

 

“I see. And was Laedel's first king called Morcimus?”

 

Wesli's big, dumb brown eyes widened. “How'd you guess that?” he wondered, and Calcifex couldn't help but think that a good education was hard to come by in the city. He had met very few intelligent life forms so far.

 

“Oh, call it luck.”

 

The other man just nodded and kept pulling Calcifex towards the castle. The place's front gates were tall, swirling creations forged of iron and topped with dangerous looking spears. Two other sentinels swung the doors open after a word with Wesli, allowing the captive and his captor inside.

 

The grounds beyond the outer border were wonderfully extravagant. Gray cobblestone paths led to the entrance of the palace, and each one was lined with flowers that bloomed in all colors of the rainbow. Huge, ancient weeping willows grew in various places in the lush green lawn, and in the evening darkness, dozens of fireflies flitted about, glowing like miniature stars. Calcifex was oddly reminded of Sidereus, hidden away in his silver watch, and he smiled.

 

The front doors to the palace were made of heavy oak wood, and had been engraved with intricate patterns that dazzled the eye. After another order from Wesli, access into the enormous edifice was granted, and Calcifex finally got to set foot in the home of Flamma-regi.

 

The interior was easily as grand as the exterior, if not more so. Polished white marble floors threw back the reflection of anyone who walked upon them. The ivory stone walls had been generously decorated with colorful tapestries and masterful portraits of regal looking people, most likely the previous residents of the castle. Opposite the entrance was a pair of elegant staircases, each adorned with a banister carved from cherry timber. Calcifex glanced up and was greeted with a lovely view of a crystal and silver chandelier, fully lit by at least a hundred little candles and providing visibility throughout the room. The overall effect was really quite impressive.

 

“I'll be leaving you in the dungeons until the queen gets back and decides what to do with you,” Wesli informed the wizard.

 

As it turned out, the dungeons were substantially less appealing than the rest of the palace, and Calcifex was not exactly pleased with his temporary quarters. They consisted of one cramped, cold room made entirely of stone. There was only one way out, and that was through a tiny wooden door. Iron shackles hung off of one wall, but Wesli didn't put the wizard in those. He just left him standing in the middle of the cell, and locked the door behind him. There was no guard outside to watch over the place; apparently they forgot he could charm his way out.

 

“Probably placated by my commendable disposition,” Calcifex said to himself as he examined his undesirable surroundings.

 

“This could be bad,” Sidereus piped up. “I know what you're thinking, Cal, but maybe we really are prisoners here. You don't have any proof against that.”

 

“Don't be silly, Sid, of course I do.”

 

“Oh, yeah? What then?”

 

“Simple. It was the look in Flamma-regi's eyes. She thinks she's so mysterious, but take it from someone who knows façades: her expression was clear as a bell.” Calcifex resigned himself to sitting on the hard, chilly floor, as standing was becoming tiresome. “She wants me here, and not for a crime. Although we might be committing a few once we've gotten together again,” the man said, smirking wickedly.

 

“If it weren't for the fact that you're almost always right, I'd say your ego is blinding you. Then again, it just might be, because it's the size of an ox,” Sidereus offered. “I'll trust you this time, witchy, but remember-“

 

“'Be careful', yes, I know, Sid. Don't worry. I'm not going to get into any kind of trouble now, not when I have the opportunity to have some fun with that vixen.”

 

The light spirit had to roll his eyes. “I just don't know what you see in her.”

 

“Of course you don't; you're not human. I feel sorry for you, my friend. It must be torture, never experiencing the joys of sex.”

 

“Shows what you know. Spirits do have sex, just not like you disgusting mammals.”

 

“Is that so? Then, may I ask, have you ever been with a sweet little lady spirit?” Calcifex teased.

 

A snort came from the inner workings of the watch. “As if I'd tell you.”

 

“Ah, I see. That means `no'.”

 

“It does not!”

 

“Of course it does. You're obviously too embarrassed to say that you've never had any kind of intercourse-“

 

“Will you just shut up? That is not what I said, and I have done things. I just don't feel like sharing them with you.”

 

The wizard put on a pout. “Why not? I thought we were pals, Sid.”

 

“Hmmph. Whether or not we're pals has got nothing to do with it. You'll just pick fun at me all the time if I tell you about it, so I'm keeping my trap shut.”

 

“Tcch. Well that's not nice at all. I feel very betrayed, just so you know.”

 

“And I don't care,” replied Sidereus, trying to sound distant.

 

“You do so! Don't try to hide it from me, love. I can hear the concern in your voice!”

 

“What concern? I have no idea what you're talking about… And stop calling me that!”

 

“I will, if you admit it.”

 

“Admit what?”

 

“That you love me, Siddy.”

 

“As if, Calcifex.”

 

“Oh, come on. Say it. Sa-ay it. You know you want to!”

 

“Ugh, fine! Gods, all right. I do, okay?”

 

Calcifex grinned. “You do, what?”

 

Silence.

 

“Don't be shy, Sidereus! I won't laugh at you, promise!”

 

There was a general round of muttering on the spirit's end, then an exasperated reply. “… I love you. Are you happy now?”

 

For the first time in hours, Cal smiled, and there was no arrogance, mischief, or cruelty in it. Just pure glee, like that of a child who has everything he wants.

 

“Yes. And I love you, too.”

 

*****

3

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Flamma-regi and her sickly son, Cerasus-dyn, were finally on their way home, having finished their visit with the people of Laedel. The two of them were seated safely inside a horse-drawn carriage that was making a speedy voyage to their palace. The queen was anxious to see the wizard again, but she showed no outward signs of her excitement. The prince was far less enthusiastic about anything, except for being able to sleep in his big, comfortable bed. He coughed violently into his hand and cursed whatever had made him ill.

 

“You should not have gone riding in the rain that day,” Flamma-regi said to the boy. “It is your own fault you are in such a state.”

 

She was probably right, Cerasus-dyn thought. But he had no regrets about taking his beautiful chestnut mare out that particular evening. He had needed the relief that horseback riding always gave him, that having been a horribly stressful day. In all honestly, most of the unrest had been a direct result of his mother's constant criticism. It was true that in the sixteen years he'd been alive, he had grown rather used to her ongoing lectures about acting one way or another. But that didn't mean he'd ever really gotten to like them. Her unkind words were always enough to make him feel put out and inadequate. Cerasus-dyn couldn't recall one time when Flamma-regi had ever praised him. Even before Cadavna-regna had died, all she had to offer was scorn. His clothes were too wrinkled. His voice was too quiet. He wasn't smart enough. The list never ended. It was discouraging, to say the least.

 

“I'm just preparing you for when you become king,” she would tell him, but that never reassured the young prince.

 

“Go straight to your rooms when we get home, and do not get up until you're better, understand?” Flamma-regi said, bringing her son back to the present time at hand.

 

“Yes, Mother,” the prince said, sky blue eyes wistful. He sighed softly and leaned his head against the window of the carriage, letting his golden hair fall about his face.

 

“Good. I'll be sure to send a maid to look after you.”

 

Outside, the scenery shifted from the monotonous stretch of city houses to the welcoming sight of the palace's front yard. The queen's gray gaze was infiltrated with anticipation. Her prisoner was waiting for her inside. When the coach stopped moving, she climbed down and out of the thing herself, without bothering to wait for the driver to assist her. She was gone in an instant, disappearing into the castle without a single sentiment of concern for the boy she'd left behind.

 

The guard, Wesli, was in the main hall to meet her. He saluted in the traditional fashion before informing her that the wizard had been stowed in the dungeons.

 

“Bring him to my parlor, and be hasty about it,” she ordered. The command was questionable, but Wesli didn't dare say anything against it. He took the only course of reasonable action and did what he was told.

 

Calcifex was sitting casually in his cell. His demeanor lacked any of the worry or terror that most captives possessed. He was truly an odd man.

 

“Come on, wizard,” Wesli said in his best manly voice. “You're to be moved now.”

 

Cal wasted no time in standing up and allowing himself to be led out of the dungeons. He was forced to ascend two sets of stairs, finally stopping on the third floor of the palace. From there the guard brought him down a series of hallways of all sizes and colors. Eventually, they came to a halt before a set of doors that was painted gold. Wesli knocked once, and a distinctly feminine voice answered.

 

“Enter.”

 

Calcifex knew instantly that the queen was inside, so he assumed a charming disposition and waited while the doors swung open. Flamma-regi was indeed on the other side of the threshold. The room that was revealed resembled some sort of gothic tea room; the walls and rugs were black, and all the fixtures a crimson color that could have been actual blood. Her Majesty was lounging comfortably in an ebony velvet armchair. If not for her alabaster skin, she might have faded into the backdrop of the room, for the gown she had changed into was of the darkest shade imaginable. The only light in the space was a small group of red candles that were burning on a table in front of the queen. The entire setting was in stark contrast to the rest of the castle, which was cheery and bright.

 

“This is quite the décor you've got here, Your Grace,” said Calcifex with a smile, who had no objections to the shadowy atmosphere.

 

“Do you like it, wizard?” the woman asked, one perfectly sculpted brow raised. “Most of my guests find it… dreary.”

 

“They have no taste, then.”

 

Flamma-regi displayed the closest thing to a grin that anyone had seen from her all day. Suddenly she seemed to notice that her guest was still bound tight, and his escort was still present.

 

“Untie him,” she instructed, tone firm once more. Wesli moved to obey, and soon Calcifex was free. He rubbed his slightly reddened wrists.

 

“Now leave us be,” Flamma-regi told the guard. The man nodded and left in a rush. When he was finally gone, she turned her lovely face to Cal and proceeded to appraise him silently. In spite of being treated like common scum for the past couple of hours, he had managed to retain his enchanting appeal. His clothes were faintly wrinkled and his hair a little mussed, but that lent him a roguish appearance that, Flamma-regi had to admit, made him all the more enticing.

 

“Why don't you take a seat?” The queen waved her hand at the black chair to her right. Grateful to have a soft place to settle down at last, Calcifex took her advice and sat.

 

“Thank you very much for your hospitality,” he told Flamma-regi. “I appreciate it,” he added, completely sincere.

 

“Yes, you are quite welcome. And I do believe you said your name was Calcifex?”

 

“That's correct.”

 

“Well, Sir Calcifex, I will not waste any more of our precious time with pleasantries. Allow me to be frank, if you would.”

 

Cal doubted if he had any choice as to whether or not he wanted the woman to be frank, so he just indicated that she should go on with her statement.

 

“I will admit, at great personal risk to my own pride and honor, that you have… Shall I say… Piqued my interest? Yes. That sounds appropriate.” At that point, Flamma-regi pierced Calcifex under her stony gaze and would not look away. “I am a widow, my dear man, and it is a lonely life I live. Any kind of relationship with another person that cannot be defined as innocent is forbidden to me.”

 

The conversation was quickly drawing the wizard in. Everything he had predicted about the icy queen was proving true. And the way she presented the situation was incredibly enjoyable, he decided.

 

“Therefore,” the woman went on. “What I am about to propose to you cannot be repeated to anyone at any time or any place. Do you follow, wizard?”

 

Calcifex supposed that her reversion to his more formal title was an indication that the discussion had become very serious.

 

He nodded once, never breaking eye contact with the queen. “I understand completely, Your Majesty.”

 

There was an instant of silence while Flamma-regi considered the validity behind his words. There was a chord of honesty in them, so she accepted the declaration.

 

“Excellent. Follow me.”

 

Calcifex had no choice but to follow the queen's lead and stand up. Once she was positive that he was coming along after her, she guided the wizard to a pair of black doors. She twisted one silver handle and the doors opened, exposing a sheer silver curtain.

 

“What happens in this room must never be spoken of, Sir Calcifex,” said the queen in a low, reverent voice.

 

Then she pulled the drapes aside, and there was light.

 

*****

4

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It didn't take Calcifex long to learn that sleeping with Flamma-regi did not merit an invitation to treat her informally. He once made the mistake of calling her by her name only, without the title, during a particularly exhilarating shagging session, only to be rewarded with her refusal to go any further. The woman simply pushed him off her, rolled over, and ordered him to leave for the rest of the night. Frustrated and terribly unsatisfied, Calcifex had retreated into a nearby bathroom and done something he had vowed never to do… He took care of his excitement himself.

 

In any other circumstances, he would have simply sought out one of the maids and seduced her. But with Flamma-regi as a lover, things became complicated. The queen, as it turned out, was very picky, and flat-out forbid him from sleeping with anyone besides her.

 

“As long as you're here,” she said, “You will stay committed to me, and me only. No arguments. I will not carry on an affair with the entire population of Laedel.”

 

On top of that, it was made inescapably clear that Calcifex would be staying until the end of the Morcimus Faire. And though Flamma-regi's conditions were arguably strict, the wizard didn't mind too much. After all, as long as he followed all the rules, he got to bed the magnificent woman every night, and do as he pleased in the daylight hours.

 

Sidereus, for the most part, was happy with the arrangements. Calcifex had been given a set of rooms all his own, where no one was allowed to go, including the palace staff, unless they were called there. The light spirit was free to live outside his pocket watch all day. The fact that all the flames in Cal's room were fed by royal oil, and thus tasted absolutely heavenly, was a big plus as well.

 

All in all, palace life was treating the pair very nicely.

 

But everything unflawed must some day face a time for ruin. Disruption came in the form of a slender young prince.

 

The moment Calcifex laid eyes on Cerasus-dyn, he was hopelessly ensnared. The boy was beautiful: a golden angel that radiated all things divine.

 

“I've got to have him,” the wizard confided in Sidereus one afternoon, almost a week after he'd arrived at the castle. The two of them were relaxing in Calcifex's bed. “He's exquisite!”

 

“He's off limits, Cal,” the spirit reminded his daydreaming friend.

 

“I know, and that just makes me want him more!”

 

“I'm surprised, you know. He doesn't seem like your type. He's too… Innocent.”

 

Calcifex sat up, bracing his weight on his elbows and facing Sid. “Ah, but that's the exact reason I'm so drawn to him. It's the truly naïve ones that make the best partners, Sidereus. They're eager to please, and so responsive!”

 

“But that doesn't change the fact that you're not supposed to go near him.”

 

“Well, yes. But… There are always ways around that, my friend.”

 

Sidereus smiled a little. Calcifex was so excited; it was hard not to be endeared by his attitude. “Okay, so assuming you somehow manage to keep a secret like that from Flamma, how can you even be sure that he'll want you? Maybe he won't be interested.”

 

“Tsk, tsk, Sid. I thought you had more faith in me than that. Trust me; I can definitely get him to be interested. A good fondling could sway even the strongest resolve.”

 

The spirit gave up. Calcifex was impossible to reason with when he got like this. “If you say so, Cal. I still stand by what I said before, though. If Flamma catches you, she'll have you killed, and you know that. I mean, just failing to follow her orders is one thing. But fucking her son? She'll have your head for that.”

 

Calcifex, far from being daunted by the queen's threat, threw his dark head back and laughed. It was a merry sound, and it made Sidereus sigh in defeat. Maybe it was foolish confidence, brought on by the euphoria of excellent sex and the joys of high living, but Cal was feeling oddly invincible. Nothing could touch him.

 

“Don't you worry about my head, Sid,” the wizard said, eyes twinkling happily. “Flamma would have to catch me before she could execute me, and there's no chance of that happening!”

 

 

*******

 

Disclaimer: This story consists purely of fiction and is a product of the author's imagination. Any person/place/thing/event contained within that has any similarities to something or someone in real life is completely coincidental.

 

Constructive criticism always welcome.