The Great Troll War

‘Anyone who reads What Prince Monthly would know that,’ said Princess Jocaminca in a sniffy tone, ‘it means nothing.’

‘Okay,’ said the Princess, who knew full well that there was no physical proof she was anyone but Laura Scrubb, a lowly servant, ‘let’s ramp this up a notch. You and I and Cheryl and Candice and Tabathini over there were together in I’m a Princess Get Me Out of Here two years ago. You were voted out of the palace in the first round because you refused Task One: shaking hands with a poor person without grimacing.’

‘That was never broadcast.’

‘No,’ said the Princess, ‘and neither was the round where Princess Stellerini threw a massive 3.2 Richter Scale tantrum when she was told to reduce her entourage to only six servants and wear the same dress twice. None of you even got to the round where you had to do ironing or sew a button on a shirt.’

‘Who won?’ I asked out of curiosity. The show had been a big ratings winner, more popular than ‘No Money but an Impressive Title, in which five princes of impecunious means but an impressive bloodline had to battle it out to win the hand of a Grade VII princess, the sort whose Kingdom is barely larger than a couple of football fields.11

‘Princess Organza of Midlandia,’ said the Princess, and they then set about talking about how awful she was, how she would soon lose her looks, how she had ‘certainly let herself go since the wedding’ and was also – shock horror – far too nice to her servants, something that ‘would only lead to ruin’.

‘I was there when Princess Shazine was bodyswapped by her mother the Queen and entrusted to me,’ I said, before the princessy trash-talk got them all too distracted, ‘and as Royal Mystician to the Court of the Kingdom of Snodd, I can vouch for her.’

‘Not conclusive,’ said Princess Jocaminca. ‘Besides, your “princess” currently has her finger up her nose.’

I looked at the Princess, who did indeed have her finger up her nose.

‘I think I’ve found an impressively large booga,’ said the Princess. ‘It’s been bothering me all morning.’

‘It was the bodyswapping,’ I explained hastily. ‘Some of Laura Scrubb’s personal habits came across with it. If she ever asks you to pull her finger, please don’t.’

‘Eugh,’ said Jocaminca.

It was time to play my trump card. I had wanted to keep it for the coronation, but the time was now. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small leather pouch that contained a gold signet ring with the seal of Snodd cut into turquoise, surrounded by oak leaves, a Dragon and a very small advert for Fizzi-Pop.12

‘Queen Mimosa gave me this in secret,’ I said, ‘for a moment such at this.’

I took the Princess’s hand and slid the heavy gold ring on her third finger. She stared at it for a moment, and tears welled up in her eyes. She looked at me and I nodded. Her mother had been an ex-sorceress herself, and likely had a premonition something bad was going to happen, and that bodyswapping her with a lowly maidservant was the only way by which the spirit of the royal bloodline could be preserved. I think Princess Jocaminca realised it too.

‘Your Royal Highness Crown Princess Shazine Blossom Hadridd Snodd,’ she said politely. ‘I humble myself in your presence and await your bidding.’

And she curtsied. As it turned out, the princesses who had signed up for the conference were all Grade II princesses of middling-sized Kingdoms, and none of them had the clout the Princess had – and they knew it. Say what you like about princesses, they know their place within the nation’s royalty.

‘I may have the body of a handmaiden,’ said the Princess, ‘with bandy legs, lank hair and several unsightly skin infections which will be dealt with as soon as the tests come back from the labs, but I have the mind and heart of an uncrowned queen, and I will not rest until the scourge of the Troll is vanquished from this land.’

And without waiting for a reply, she turned and set off for where the Sorcerer’s Conclave was being held: the ballroom of the hotel. I turned and followed her.

‘Did that sound queenly?’ she asked as we walked along the corridor to the ballroom.

‘Very,’ I replied. ‘I’d better start calling you “ma’am”.’

‘Only in public. When we’re alone I want you to call me “Shazza”, and look, for what you’ve done so far and will do in the future, I hereby make you a Knight of the Realm of Snodd.’

‘I’m honoured, of course, I think,’ I said, ‘but can girls actually be knights?’

‘They can if I say they can,’ she replied with a smile. ‘No point being the queen if you can’t make your own rules. Save me a place at the Conclave, would you? I’m bursting for a wee.’

And she hurried off towards the toilets.

‘Well,’ said Tiger once she had gone, ‘Sir Jennifer Strange, eh?’

‘I’m not sure it’s official without the sword stuff,’ I said, ‘but on reflection, I think I’d wear the label “orphan” with greater pride.’

‘Yeah,’ said Tiger, ‘me too.’

‘Quark,’ said the Quarkbeast.