Vortigan is an arrogant prat

“Excuse me, milord,” Lady Antoinette said as she knocked gently on the door of Vortigan’s chambers.

“Go away!” Vortigan yelled. “I have no time for you.”

Antoinette looked surprised but continued further inside. “Sir, I’d like to discuss your claim to make me queen,” Antoinette said.

Vortigan scoffed. “I’ll never make a filthy little hag like you queen. I don’t know where you ever got an idea like that,” he sneered.

Antoinette gasped. “But you said…”

“I lied,” Vortigan said. “I was in public. I couldn’t have my image tainted by rejecting a girl. But I have no actual interest. You look like a fat pig stuffed with an apple. Maybe I should cook you and serve you for dinner. I bet no one would notice.”

Antoinette’s face contorted into anger. She glared at Vortigan. She waved her hand and suddenly her appearance changed. Her gown turned into a black robe with a cloak with a long robe along with her hair. Her eyes went from green to purple. Her skin paled until it was paper white. A large staff formed in her hand that appeared snake like. “I am Morgana and you have made a grave mistake,” she said. “I’ve been watching you closely, Vortigan, and you disappoint me. You are not fit to rule. You hardly qualify for a prince.”

“Buzz off. You don’t scare me,” Vortigan scoffed.

Morgana glared. “You will learn your lesson… hmm which curse to use on you…”