Although on a cliff, the cabin was warm with table lamps illuminating its interior. There were all sorts of lamps with varying colors, some of them even shaped as crying faces. As Robert saw Arthur staring at them, he chuckled before throwing some clothes over them.
"A man picks up the oddest habits on his travels, but fate wanted me to love lamps, because all my wives loved them," said the middle-aged man as he navigated between the furniture while gesturing for Arthur to follow. "Please consider this as your home."
"You are very kind, sir," said Arthur, making Robert trip over something and fall down. As he hurried to help him stand, Robert found himself waving his hand frantically, his face flushed.
"Don't call me sir, my king. Your status is far above mine," said the old man as he cleaned up the scattered seeds on the ground, shoveling them with his hand. Arthur raised a finger, and the seeds all flew back into the bag on their own. Robert stared with an awestruck expression.
