The Eye of Zoltar

‘Our daughter needs to be taught a lesson,’ said the Queen, ‘for the good of the Kingdom.’

‘There are other ways to punish her,’ said the King, ‘and in this matter I will be firm. Return my daughter this instant!’

‘Yes,’ howled the Princess, ‘and I promise never to pour weedkiller in the moat again – I’ll even restock the ornamental fish with my own servant’s pocket money!’

‘That was you?’ said the King, turning on her suddenly. ‘My prized collection of rare and wonderful koi carp, all stone dead at a stroke? I had my fish-keeper stripped of all honours and sent to work in the refineries – and you said nothing?’

He turned to his wife and gave a short bow.

‘I suppose it might be for the best,’ he said wearily.

‘What?!?’ yelled the Princess.

‘Right,’ said the Queen, clapping her hands. ‘Miss Strange, I am entrusting you with our daughter’s further education. I hope she will learn something from the experience of having and being less than nothing.’

‘I won’t go,’ said the Princess. ‘I shan’t be made to wear old clothes and eat nothing but potatoes and scratchings and have to share toilets with other people and have no servants. I shall savagely bite anyone who tries to take me away.’

‘Then we shall have you muzzled and sent back to the orphanage,’ said the Queen, ‘and they will allocate you work in the refineries. It’s either that or going quietly with Miss Strange.’

These words seemed to have an effect upon her, and the Princess calmed down.

‘I shall hate you for ever, Mother,’ she said quietly.

‘You will thank me,’ the Queen replied evenly, ‘and the Kingdom shall thank both your father and me for delivering them a just and wise ruler when we die.’

The Princess said nothing. It was the servant-now-princess who spoke next.

‘This is a very beautiful room, like,’ she said. ‘I’d not really noticed before what with not being allowed to raise my eyes from the floor and all. Is that a painting of a great battle?’

‘That one?’ said the King, always eager to show off his knowledge. ‘It is of one of our ancestor’s greatest triumph against the Snowdonian Welsh. The odds were astounding: five thousand against six. It was a hard, hand-to-hand battle over two days with every inch won in blood and sinew, but thank Snodd we were victorious. Despite everything, we were impressed by the fighting spirit of the Welsh – those six certainly put up a terrific fight.’

‘Look after her, won’t you?’ said the Queen in a more concerned tone. ‘I trust in your judgement to educate my daughter, and whatever happens, you will not find the Kingdom or myself ungrateful. Bring her back in a month or two and I will restore their minds to the correct bodies. Protect her, Miss Strange, but don’t cosset her. The future of the Kingdom may very well be in your hands.’

The Princess quietened down after a while as she realised her mother meant it, and we were shown from the hall.

‘No one is curtsying me,’ she said in a kind of shocked wonderment as we walked unobserved down a bustling corridor in the palace. ‘Is that what being common is like?’

‘It’s a small part of what being common is like,’ I told her.

‘Do you think that horrible servant will get my body pregnant?’ she asked as we trotted down the steps. ‘I’ve heard about you girl orphans having no morals and having babies for fun and selling them to buy bicycles and fashion accessories and onions and stuff.’

‘We think of nothing else,’ I said with a smile.

Tiger and the Quarkbeast were still playing chess when we got back to the car.

‘Who’s she?’ said Tiger as we walked up.

‘Guess.’

‘From the look of her,’ said Tiger, ‘an orphan servant, probably bought for indentured servitude within the palace and used for menial scrubbing duties or worse. Here,’ he added, fishing in his pocket, ‘I’ve got some nougat somewhere I was keeping for emergencies – and you look as though you could do with a bit of energy.’

He handed her the nougat, which was mildly dusty from where it had sat in Tiger’s pocket. The Princess ignored it, and him.

‘I smell of dog poo, carbolic soap and mildew,’ she said, sniffing a sleeve of her maid’s uniform in disgust, ‘and I can feel a bogey in my left nostril. Remove it for me, boy.’

‘Holy cow!’ said Tiger. ‘It’s the Princess.’

‘How did you know that?’ asked the Princess.

‘Wild stab in the dark.’

‘Hold your tongue!’ said the Princess.

‘Hold it yourself,’ said Tiger, sticking out his tongue.

‘I dislike that ginger nitwit already,’ said the Princess. ‘I’m going to start a list of people who have annoyed me so they can be duly punished when I am back in my own body.’ She rummaged in her pockets for a piece of paper and a stub of pencil. ‘So, nitwit: name?’

‘Tiger … Spartacus.’

‘Spart-a-cus,’ said the Princess, writing it down carefully.

‘If anyone finds out you’re the Princess,’ I said after having a worrisome thought, ‘I’d give it about an hour before we have to fight off bandits, cut-throats and agents of foreign powers. For now, you’ll take the handmaiden’s name. What is it, by the way?’