It was late in the afternoon when the farmer, Jeb, entered the local tavern. After hours of back-aching work, he could finally rest. He sat down in his favorite seat at the bar and ordered his usual: an ale and a bowl of soup. Although it was cheap, it was familiar, and Jeb had decided long ago that it was better than the fancy and expensive food most people now enjoyed.

Just as he began his simple meal, the door swung wide open and a strange man walked through it. His clothes were an assortment of colors. His shirt was bright red, pants were worn out yellow,  and shoes were a curious mixture of blue and purple. Jeb immediately decided the traveler was not someone he would like to meet. 

Of course, right after he thought this, the terribly dressed man walked toward him, taking the seat next to Jeb. The traveler looked around and ordered a wine from the bartender.

Then, he turned to Jeb and said, “Good evening. I’ve been going around the countryside, spreading the news. Have you heard of it?” 

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Wearily, Jeb responded, “No.”

“Really?” After waiting a moment, the man continued, “I’m surprised it hasn’t reached this village yet, even though it is quite small.”

“Sadly, not small enough for you to skip it,” the tired farmer muttered.

“What did you say? Never mind, it doesn't matter."

"So, what happened is," the traveler leaned in close and continued, "the prince tried to kill the king. I know, right. Isn't it insane!”

“And, why does this matter to me,” asked Jeb. 

“Well, how could it not matter? It’s the King!”

“I really don’t care about the King and whatever happens to him. I just want to sit here and eat my meal in peace, which you interrupted.”

“Yes, yes, yes, sorry about that, but I had to share the news with someone!”

“Share it to Mason, the bartender, he’ll listen to you, even though he won’t care either.”

“Does no one in this place care about the King,” the traveler bemoaned.

Jeb did not respond.