Almost two weeks have passed since the builders first arrived. More than ten days of clamourous building and nights of sneakily farming.

Both fronts were taking on magnificent progress. Everyone was thrilled really. Well almost everyone.

"Mhm. You all seem to be taking your time. I had thought this would be done days ago." Philip asks, tailed by the largest group of soldiers the man in the forest had ever seen.

The builders who looked at him were a mix of fear stricken, and completely understanding.

Nonetheless all of them quickly gained a hop in their step. Hammering turned into a singular sound throughout the work site.

Half a minute after Philip had said the words, as he was sitting down, a group of builder began pulleying a large mill blade into place with a thick timber crane.

"Heave." One shouts.

"HO!" The rest on the ropes shout yanking with their whole might.

Philip at the table watching then turned to the man in the forest. "A leader must be able to motivate. A man’s greatest skill is the manipulation of manpower. You’d do well to learn that."

The man in the forest who sat opposite him couldn’t help but frown.

This Philip before him was far different than he had ever seen. No longer a man in thick black suit and coat. Now he wore fine flowing silks of deep purple and blue. Adorning his ten digits were a multitude of gems and rare metals. Half the continents artisans were represented on a single hand.

"Why are you acting so strange?" The man couldn’t help but ask.

Instantly Philip’s regal expression deflated as if pricked by a pin.

"Ah, it seems he has seen through your mask." A woman laughs stepping towards the two men.

"It’s his majesty’s own fault for setting his incognito persona so similar to his own natural demeanor." An armored Grant smirks through the shimmering helm. A golden sword swung from his hip as well as a reddish grey shield decorated with twin galloping horses.

Grant was almost unrecognizable, if not for the familiar voice the man would surely have thought him another person.

"Right, I should introduce you. This is my wife Caralyn."

"You can call me Cara." The woman kindly nods extending her hand to shake the man’s. "My husband speaks fondly of you."

"Ah, nice to meet you. Likewise I have no complaints towards Philip." The man agrees with a nod of his own. His way of phrasing was odd causing the woman to laugh but she inferred his meaning well enough.

After exchanging hands, Cara sat beside Philip comfortably adjusting her dress as she sat.

In a few words, Cara was indescribable.

A book would be needed to describe her. A page would be needed just to describe the arches of her lush golden eyelashes, chapters could be dedicated to the lines of her waist.

Truly a Queen amongst Queen’s. A beauty that even Philip’s suave looks couldn’t out-shadow.

In fact the entire group was shadowed by this Sun Goddess. The man, although a bit rough due to locale, was handsome but even his smooth green locks lacked the luster of this woman’s golden silk.

Either consciously or unconsciously the man eventually remembered his breath.

Philip, having seen this scene before countless times could only chuckle. Oddly he also felt a tinge of worry in his heart. Of course he trusted Cara, but he also recognized that the man in the forest had a certain ruggedness that Philip could never possess.

Glancing at his wife hesitantly he saw that she too was smirking.

No one could read King Philip quite like Queen Caralyn.

"It’s a bit early but how about lunch?" The man asks after the group had chat for a bit.

Philip instantly lit up at the suggestion and Caralyn too nodded in approval. It seems Philip had talked up the man’s cooking to no end.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Happily escaping the situation the man began cooking.

His equipment had steadily been advancing. Where once he cooked on stones over hot coals now he had a proper clay stove.

The builders, understanding that it would mean better food, had been more than happy to set aside an afternoon to construct it.

With the improved heat source the man could properly sear meat without fear of hot-spots or flare-ups. It also had the added benefit of storing most of his supplies. Even a nice cubby for his knife.

While simultaneously chopping away at a bundle of grasses the man began roasting onion-like slices. After a few minutes of heat they turned to a creamy caramel color and began emitting a fragrant scent. He quickly poured cup’s worth of wine in the pan and then added the herbs and meat.

Not forgetting the key ingredient he then carefully pinched a bundle of spice and sprinkled it above the three slices of meat.

"So that’s Roya?" Cara asks from amongst the group of spectators.

Indeed the group had instantly moved once the man began cooking.

Initially he had planned to ignore it completely but it ended up being impossible after the strange question was asked.

‘Roya?’

"Mhm, Indeed. If you think the chefs in our kitchen are impressive just wait." Philip nods without taking his eye off his personally dibbed steak. "If you think they cook good Roya there then your mind is about to be blown."

"Eh… Excuse me." The man asks glancing up from the stove towards the group. "What do you mean Roya?"

"Right! You wouldn’t have heard." Philip spouts in shock. "It’s the name that dishes made with your spice are being called."

"…?" The man replied silently with a cock of his eyebrow.

"Mhm, this steak, soups, stews, even kebabs; they’d all be called Roya. It’s slang that the food sellers came up with to indicate they sell the real deal." Philip elaborates, using the explanation as an excuse to drift closer to the stove.

"Right." Cara adds, following in his footsteps both literally and figuratively. "I’ve heard it’s short for Royal. Rumor says this spice used to be only sold to Noble's and Kings but now its found its way into the commoner market."

Cara, now dangerously close to the sizzling steaks explains with a laugh. She seemed to be well aware of the distance the rumors lay from the truth.

The man didn’t mind much what the spice was called. The rumor was interesting to him though. He couldn’t help wondering what these food sellers peddled.

Indeed the man didn’t have much of a naming sense so he wouldn’t whine about the naming rights being stolen from him. For instance, when he refereed to the wide tree’s by his self proclaimed name the builders looked at him like he was crazy. Stone wood tree’s were henceforth Ever-wood's.

Again the man didn’t mind. If the flower is to be called Roya so be it. He wouldn’t let it bother him.

In the back of his mind he was happy he hadn’t named the forest he lived within.

Yet still the man felt like something was missing.

Loading the plates and forgetting the previous thought the man stepped back towards the table with King and Queen in tow.

The smell of the glistening steaks had the builders looking from afar enviously, but impressively they didn’t slow from their increased pace.

The two, now children at their parents table, sat looking at the meal with doe eyes. The spice had that ability. In the same way a dash of salt can balance any flavor, Roya seemed to bring the best from any meat.

On a firm cut it would tenderize, on a loose cut it would cement. It fulfilled the needs in its environment. In fact, unknown to the man in the forest, experiments were already being done to bring the spice into the dessert market. Even bakers were attempting to exchange it for flour, or roll it in between risings.

But it would be long before those experiments would be fruitful.

"Amazing!" Philip says with a fork still hanging from his lips, unbecoming of his regal gowned image.

"...I…" Cara begins to say with a tear welling in her eye. "Why does this taste so much like mother’s?"

Philip lightly puts an arm around his wife drawing her close and emitting a tender smile. "It’s because the man in the forest and her share a secret ingredient."

"No… There is no way mother used…"

"I don’t mean Roya," Philip smiles turning to the man in the forest seated across from him. "It’s heart. It’s in all the dishes he makes. He may even use it in more abundance."

"I see." Cara says wiping her eye’s with a handkerchief, and then mouth with a napkin. "Indeed, What were your words dear? Something like ‘food that makes you feel as if you could conquer the world’."

"Ah! I was talking in jest at that time."

"No I completely understand your highness." Grant nods cutting into his steak heartily. "The food brings vigor to my old bones!"

"Aren’t you in your early thirties? And where did you come from?"

"Even just for lunch it’s extremely filling. A single serving could probably feed a man for a day. A pot could probably feed an army." A builder pipes in from the side with a vigorous nod of his own.

Another, as if hiding in a nearby shrub, adds his own take. "I think after eating it, I might confess to Mishene."

"You can’t confess to my wife…"

"Bu…"

Philip suddenly realizing the situation turns to the builders with his motivating face on. "Why don’t I hear…"

"We finished." Dave says holding out a blueprint with a large check mark written atop it. "Could we request an early lunch?"

"See! Motivation." Philip says growing a grin and turning back to the man who sat across from him. "Ah… but I suppose you might actually have a better grasp on it than me."