King Alfred Burns the Cakes

This is one of the most hilarious legends I've ever heard. I've decided that I might possibly write a sequel to "Fara of Wessex," and incorporate this legend into it. Here is how it might go:

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Fara and Lilla continued to talk while cooking the cakes and almost didn’t hear the knocking at the door. It was a rainy night, and thunder drowned out much of the noise. Fara then suddenly stopped talking.
“Lilla, I think someone’s knocking at the door,” she said.
“If it was Brant or Elsin they would’ve just come right in,” replied Lilla, “So it must be someone else. I’ll go answer it while you keep watching the supper.”
She got up while Fara kept watching the cakes. Fara glanced at the door, hoping that it wasn’t her mistress coming to scold her. Lilla opened it, and outside stood a well-dressed man who was dripping wet. He whispered something that Fara could not hear to Lilla. Fara could not see his face because it was too dark outside, but Lilla turned to her and said:
“It’s one of the men who fled Chippenham, and he wants to spend the night. Should we let him?”
“I think we should,” replied Fara. Lilla then let the man in.
“I’ll go tell my husband that we’re having a guest tonight,” Lilla told the man, “Meanwhile, you can help Fara watch our supper cakes, which are cooking on the hot stones near the hearth. Don’t let them burn!”
The man looked a little confused, but nodded, and Lilla went outside. The man turned and looked at Fara, allowing her to see his face.
She gasped, and sprang instantly to her feet, recognizing the man immediately.
“My lord the king!” she cried. The man looked alarmed, and put his finger to his lips.
“Shhh!” he hushed her.
Fara had no idea why the great king of Wessex was here in Lilla’s humble cottage, but she didn’t dare ask. She bowed low before him, but he stopped her.
“No, none of that!” the king said, “No one can know, lest they might betray me to the Danes.”
Fara stopped. Alfred looked at the open door with nervousness.
“I’ll close it, Sire,” Fara offered. She went and closed the door. Alfred sighed and sat down on the trestle table’s bench.
“How did you recognize me?” he asked her. Fara then realized that he, of course, didn’t remember her.
“Well, Sire,” she began, “Seven years ago, when I was about sixteen, you saved my life two times. The first was when I didn’t know who you were and I had asked you about Elsin, who is now my husband. I was near starving, and you told someone to take care of me. The next time, I had run away from my master and you pardoned me. And… I never got to thank you, Sire.”
Alfred wrinkled his brow, seemingly trying to remember something. Then, he slowly nodded.
“I remember now,” he said, “That was when I had first become king.”
“Thank you for everything, Sire,” Fara said, “I wouldn’t be here today had it not been for you.”
“All I can say is, we definitely have a habit of bumping into each other,” Alfred exclaimed. Then he sighed.
Fara knew it was because he was thinking of a way to get his kingdom back from the Danes. Embarrassed for bothering him, she said nothing more and simply looked at the ground. She didn’t notice the smoke rising from the cakes, which had began to burn. Just then, the door opened, and Lilla came back inside. When she caught sight of the burned cakes, she screamed and ran to save her and Brant’s supper, but it was too late. The cakes were mere cinders, and they would be having no meal tonight.
Lilla turned to Alfred, who was staring at her in confusion. Apparently he didn’t realize that she was angry, very angry.
“This is all your fault!” Lilla screamed at Alfred, “You burned our supper! I thought I told you to watch the cakes!”
Lilla grabbed her broom and was prepared to whack the king on the head with it. Fara was alarmed at Lilla’s ignorance and could sit and watch no longer.
“Lilla, it’s alright!” Fara cried, “It’s not the ki… I mean, it’s not his fault! It’s mine. I should have been watching the cakes, not him.”
Lilla put down the broom, turned to Fara, and sighed.
“Well, maybe I’m overreacting a little bit,” she said, “But I’m certainly not going to let that useless good-for-nothing fool stay here tonight!”
“But you have to! You can’t leave him out in the rain! He’ll get wet!”
“I’m sure he’s gotten wet before. Mercy, what has gotten into you, Fara? You’re acting strange.”
“Strange? Who’s acting strange? Me? Certainly not me!”
“Forget it, good women,” Alfred intervened, “I’ll just have to spend the night outside or in your byre.”
At that, Fara nearly had a fit.
“Lilla, let him stay! I’m beseeching you!”
Lilla raised an eyebrow, and crossed her arms.
“I’m surprised if you haven’t fallen in love with him,” she muttered. Then, turning to Alfred, she said:
“Alright, you can stay for the night.”
Just then, Elsin and Brant came inside.
“Fara, we should be going back to the hall. Begilda will be angry that we’ve been gone so long,” Elsin said. Fara nodded.
“Alright, Elsin,” she said, “Let us go back, then.”
As Fara turned to leave, she looked at Alfred one last time. Then she slipped through the door and out into the rain.