The Prince Bride - Chapters 18, 19 & 20 (FINAL)
By Missy Crystal

Prince Charles was heir to the throne. At his christening, three of the four fairy protectors of the Kingdom (the kind with wings and wands) appeared to give him the customary blessings for a future king. The fourth fairy sister, arriving late from partying all night with the elves, mistakenly believes the baby is a girl and gives her the blessing of being a happy bride. Can the fairy magic be undone? Will the prince grow up to be a queen of one kind or another? This is the LAST CHAPTER and it is a SPOILER. To enjoy the story, I strongly recommend that you read it from the beginning.

Chapter 18. The Royal Ball.

The morning after the reception, the palace staff began preparing for the royal ball. In deference to the princes, the hall was decorated with the flags of their respective kingdoms crossed with the flag of Trimontaine, symbolizing the prospective union. To avoid any appearance of favoritism, the series was repeated along each side of the balcony which overlooked the hall and discontinued over the dais where the royal family would be seated. On the dais were the elaborately carved and gilded throne for the King and lesser, although suitably ornate, thrones for the Queen, to be seated on his right, and the Princess, to be seated on his left. The tapers in dozens of candelabra and sconces brightly illuminated the room and the two massive fireplaces at the sides of the hall were kindled for warmth against the night air.

The guests were preparing as well. An army of hairdressers were coifing elaborate hairstyles for the ladies and tailors were stitching pulchritudinous women into their gowns with heavy thread to avoid the embarrassment of an avalanche of bosom and belly, should the lacing on their bodices fail in mid-dance. Their husbands and escorts were no less vain, enlisting a battalion of barbers to shear and shave them. When all were satisfied with their appearance, they embarked in a fleet of carriages, coaches and other conveyances to the palace, each vying to impress the princes, although to no avail, as royal guests were not to be introduced until after all of the others had arrived.

The princes were also readying themselves for the evening. Their valets dressed them impeccably and adorned them with jewel encrusted gold medals and medallions for those in uniform and elaborate gold and gemstone chains of state for those in civilian attire. Cautioned not to overlook even the smallest detail, upon the pain of a death too excruciating to consider, every inch of their attire was scrutinized, adjusted and readjusted. When no further preparation was possible, they left their rooms and were delivered to the hall by two Royal Guards. Their arrival was heralded and they were ushered to a position of honor at the foot of the dais.

The King, Queen and Princess waited to make their entrance, together with their escorts. Sir Reginald and Countess Marlyne had the honor of attending the King and Queen. Of course, Sir Ulrich and Lady Elisse, had the honor of attending Princess Charlene. Observing that Marlyne's and Elisse's gowns conspicuously displayed their maternity, the King jocularly remarked to his wife, "I hope that their condition is not contagious," to which she replied, "I believe that with time a woman develops immunity, but then I have not been exposed to the source recently." "Hrrmph," was the King's response to being bested at humor.

Asserting his royal prerogative, the King, disregarded his earlier directive and wore his dress military uniform.

"Really, Charlotte," King Henry argued over his wife's criticism of his decision, "this is Charlene's affair and, as it was at the reception, so too my attire will go unnoticed tonight. Besides, Prince Johanus and Prince Louis will be in their military uniforms and so it would make them feel welcome for me to wear mine. There! Is that not good reason and am I not the King?" he added in the event his rhetoric had not been persuasive.

"Yes, dear," Charlotte conceded, "indeed you are the King, although one might mistake you for a general in your uniform," she got in the last word, but to no avail.

The Queen and Princess Charlene were in the most exquisite matching ball gowns of the finest brocade with bodices embellished with gold and silver embroidery in an intricate floral design, each flower set with a sparkling gem, their long skirts ballooned out with multiple layers of white linen petticoats. The Queen's neck, wrists, fingers and ears were adorned by an array of fabulous crown jewels and sparkling gemstones dotted the snood covering hair. Neither the King nor Queen opted to wear their crowns, which were heavy and cumbersome, this being a social affair and not one of state. Princess Charlene chose a plain gold diadem to confirm her royalty, as the ball was in her honor. A delicate gold chain necklace with pearl drops adorned her neck and, with her matching earrings, she was a vision of understated elegance.

When all were assembled, the trumpets signaled the beginning of the royal processional. The band joined in as the King and Queen, flanked by Sir Reginald and Countess Marlyne, and the Princess, with Sir Ulrich and Elisse at her side, entered the hall. The royal family slowly walked to the dais and seated themselves, their coterie stepping aside and joining the guests, bowing and curtseying in deference. With a nod of recognition from the King and an upward movement of his hand, all rose. Upon that cue, the band began the first dance. The King extended his arm to his wife and they took the floor. He bowed, she curtseyed, they joined hands and gracefully moved to the music. When the dance ended, all applauded. The King reclaimed his wife's arm and the couple returned to the dais.

The next dance was for the Princess and posed an unanticipated dilemma. When the music began, each of the princes approached and claimed her. The King judiciously solved the problem by calling for a bowl.

"Your Highnesses," he addressed the princes, "I believe each of you wears a ring different enough in appearance that you may recognize it among others. If you would place it in this bowl, the Princess will draw one out and he who owns the ring, will have the dance. We will proceed through two sets of six dances, as I too shall throw in my ring, for I am not yet ready to relinquish my daughter's hand."

Although the princes understood the gist, the Princess translated for them and each removed a ring and placed it in the bowl. The Princess closed her eyes and reached in, drawing a signet with the coat of arms of Crinthos. Prince Louis was delighted to have the first dance and led the Princess out onto the floor. The band began to play and the couple moved gracefully through the steps. The other princes, appearing to be politely waiting their turn, were wishfully imagining a humiliating misstep that would send their rival sprawling. No such misfortune occurred and when the music ended, Prince Louis returned the Princess to her throne. She continued drawing rings until each prince had had a turn, the King claiming the third round. The rings were then replaced in the bowl and a second round was drawn, although the King withdrew from the contest. As the tower bell tolled twelve, the remaining ring belonged to Prince Johanus, the other princes envying him the last dance. The King and Queen then bid the Court a goodnight and, accompanied by the Princess and their attendants, retired as they had entered. Upon their exit the guests departed and the royal orchestra congratulated themselves that none had suffered a fatal wound by their conductor.

"Well?" Elisse eagerly asked the Princess as she helped her undress.

"A hole in the ground from which water is drawn, I do believe," the Princess teased her.

Disregarding the Princess' attempt at evasion, Elisse asked more specifically, "have you chosen?"

She shook her head disconsolately.

"The magic has failed me, Elisse, or else I have not understood that which it would have me do. There must be something more, but I am at a loss to discover it. Have you no advice for me?"

"My father once asked me to bring him a skein of white thread. I searched the shop high and low, but could not find it. Returning, I admitted my failure and looking down it was before me on the table. All along I only needed to reach out my hand. Sometimes we make difficult that which is simple."

The Princess broke into a smile.

"You know the answer, Princess?" Elisse asked excitedly.

"No, not yet, but I know the question. Come Merry," she called to the puppy, "it is time for us to sleep. Goodnight dear Elisse," she happily dismissed her companion.

Chapter 19. The Happy Bride.

Early the next morning Princess Charlene hurried to her parents' apartment.

"Well, Charlene, which one of the princes has won your hand?" the King inquired. "I wager it is the dashing Prince Johanus," he answered his own question.

"No father, it is not Prince Johanus."

"Prince Louis?"

"No, father, it is not Prince Louis."

"Of course not, Henry, really," the Queen interceded, "it is the charming Prince Nehlsen."

"No mother, it is not Prince Nehlsen?"

"Prince Wolfric?"

"No, mother, it is not Prince Wolfric either.

Then it is Prince Ayndrew!" the King exclaimed elatedly, by process of elimination. "Congratulations, Charlene. I am sure you two will be very happy together."

"No, father."

"I am losing my patience, Charlene. You must choose one or I shall choose for you," the King threatened

"Henry, wait," the Queen pleaded. "Charlene is sensible and so let us hear her out. Why can you not choose?"

"Mother, would you deceive father?"

"Charlene, of course not, it is unthinkable."

"And so neither shall I deceive my husband."

It took the King and Queen a moment to comprehend the meaning of the Princess' scruple.

"Even if you told them," the Queen reasoned, "they would not believe you."

"They would," the King continued, "think it a ruse to send them away for some political purpose. Your honesty would do no good, Charlene."

"You are right mother. You too father," the Princess agreed. They would not take my word. They must see for themselves."

"What," the King raged, "absolutely not! I will not allow my daughter's modesty to be compromised and so dishonor our family and our Kingdom."

"Your son, Henry," the Queen reminded him. "Dishonesty or dishonor, choose the lesser."

The King shook his head.

"I cannot, Charlotte."

Turning to the Princess, he looked at her lovingly and said with a sigh of resignation, "Charlene, you are my child. Son or daughter, both or neither, it makes no difference. I love you. Follow your heart and be happy."

"My heart directs me to give a hug to my father," the Princess responded, moving to embrace him.

The Queen dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief.

Once her affection was bestowed, the Princess hurried to her apartment. Going to her writing desk and taking up a quill, she penned a note: HRH Princess Charlene requests your presence in the main salon at noon of this day. Folding the paper, she sealed the flaps and addressed it, then wrote another and another, until all of the princes had been invited. Calling for a messenger, she handed him the notes to deliver. The princess then set about preparing herself for the meeting.

At the appointed time, the princes arrived. Princess Charlene, making sure that she was there in advance to insure civility, greeted them. All were nervous with anticipation, believing that she was to announce her decision, eyeing their rivals and plotting by what means they might do away with them without being detected as they waited for her announcement.

"My dear princes, I am not yet ready to choose," Princess Charlene began in Trimontese with the expectation that all of them would comprehend her simple statement and so be reassured. "I would like to know you better and for you to know me. Therefore, I shall spend an evening with each of you in turn. I assure you that first, last or in between matters not. All of you will be given the same consideration and so I have decided to follow the sequence in which you arrived. Prince Johanus will call on me at the tolling of seven tonight. Is there anyone who does not understand what I have said?" she asked in each of their languages for confirmation. None responded. "The pleasure of your company is sufficient. Please bring me no tokens of your affection," she concluded.

Over the next five nights Princess Charlene entertained the princes. On the following morning, she again met with the King and Queen. They eagerly awaited her decision, encouraged by the Princess's beaming countenance that whatever difficulty she had making a choice had been resolved.

"Good morning mother. Good morning father," the Princess greeted them cheerfully.

"Good morning Charlene," they both greeted her expectantly.

They waited and finally the King's patience expired.

"Do not keep us in suspense, Charlene. Tell us which one you have chosen."

"I cannot father."

"You cannot tell us? What nonsense is this, Charlene?" the King demanded.

"I cannot tell you which one," the Princess qualified her reply.

"Your prince has asked you not to reveal it until he formally asks the King for your hand," the Queen suggested.

"No mother, it is not a secret. The answer to father's question is that I cannot choose one," the Princess reiterated.

Turning to his wife, the King complained, "Charlotte, this is what we get for indulging her all these years. I will not tolerate such disobedience."

"I do not think that Charlene is being disobedient, dear," the Queen responded calmly. "It is not in her nature. We have waited this long, a few more minutes will not make any difference. Give her the opportunity to explain," she wisely counseled.

The King nodded his assent.

"I choose them all," the Princess informed her parents.

It took the King a moment to comprehend what he had just heard and then his face turned dark with rage. Rising up, he pointed his finger and admonished the Princess.

"No woman can have five husbands. It is not legal. It is not moral. It is not," he paused in his tirade, "it is not possible. I will not permit it; the princes will not accept it; and their fathers will not recognize it." The consequence of such a proposal suddenly struck him and his eyes went wide. "You have not, you have not, you have not," he sputtered, "you have not told the princes, have you? They will return to their Kingdoms to report that our royal blood is tainted with lunacy. What of the enchantment then, Charlene? No Prince will have you and so you have doomed yourself and our Kingdom. Tell me that you have not spoken of this to any but us," the King implored her.

"I have spoken to my princes and all have agreed to wed me, father," the Princess replied.

"What! No. It cannot be. Charlotte, your daughter has disgraced herself and our Kingdom by accepting five proposals." The King fell back into his chair in dismay, holding his head in his hands.

"My daughter, Henry? As I recall, you had an equal part in her conception," she reminded him. "Nor yet is it time to despair. The magic circumvented your efforts to undo it and there is no reason to believe that it would allow itself to be defeated by Charlene's whimsy."

Turning to the Princess, the Queen asked her, "tell us please how you have come to this conclusion."

"Mother, you have yourself answered your question," she replied enigmatically.

"I'm sorry, Charlene, I do not understand."

"When father first released me to your care, you took me to the palace library. In making up for the education which was denied me when I was being raised as a boy, I read the royal history of our Kingdom. No mention was made of their queens, except as mothers. Is that not then the role which a queen most fulfill above all others and, if I cannot provide an heir to the throne, how then can I be a queen? That was why I needed to reveal my true nature. The question each prince was asked when we were together was would he marry me knowing that I cannot conceive a child?"

"I had expected that it was the magic's intention for only one of the princes to accept me as his bride and so the choice would be made for me. To my surprise and delight, by their love for me, all would abdicate and, by my love for them, I could not countenance it. Would the magic be so cruel as to taunt me with five princes who love me and who I love, but cannot wed? A broken heart cannot be the good result promised. So I reasoned that, if not one or none, then it must be all. Now do you understand how you have answered your own question, mother?"

"I do," the Queen acknowledged.

"Although the princes may all want to wed you, Charlene, what makes you think that they would share you?" the King questioned.

"Father," the Princess explained, "it came to me that I can wed my princes and, as our marriage cannot be consummated, they are released from their vows to take a queen who can provide them with an heir. They have all agreed to this arrangement and to return each year on our anniversary to visit and sit in council for the common good, as all are bound by my love. Five husbands shall make me the happiest bride in all the world.

The King and Queen both sat in stunned silence. Although it would seem to be impossible, neither could deny that the magic had fulfilled the enchantment in its own way. The King, concerned about the deterioration of relations with the kingdoms of the unsuccessful suitors, instead gained five alliances and so too did the princes' fathers, ameliorating their disappointment. The Queen, recalling the premonition of Countess Marlyne, that nothing was promised as to the Princess having a happy marriage or being a happy wife, remarked to herself that, although she would have both for but a night, it was a fair exchange for a happy bride. The Princess' parents looked at each other and nodded their agreement.

"Charlene," the King lovingly consented, "you have our blessing."

Upon the word 'blessing', there was the sound of tinkling bells, a soft white glow and fairy appeared.

"Bingo," she said.

Chapter 20. A Fairy's Tale.

"Mistress Buttercup, it is a pleasure to see you," the King greeted her politely, but with trepidation, remembering that it was her mistaken blessing that turned the prince into a princess and also concerned by the timing of her return. "Are your sisters to visit us as well and is 'Bingo' a means of summoning them?"

"No, King Henry, I am on my own and 'Bingo' is not a spell. It is the name of a game and also called out when a person completes their card and wins the prize. It will be a real money maker for the Church someday.

"Mistress Buttercup," the Princess elatedly added her greeting on learning of the fairy's identity, "I am so pleased that you have come so that I might thank you."

"You are most welcome, Princess, although I do believe your parents might have a different view of my blessing gone awry, for which deception I must apologize."

"Deception, Mistress Buttercup," the King asked incredulously, "how so and for what purpose, if I may inquire without offense."

"None taken, your Highness. It is not in our nature for fairies to lie, but things are not always as they are perceived. Did it not strike you as odd that a fairy would not be able to hold her wine? It was an academy award performance."

"I am sorry, Mistress Buttercup," the King apologized, "but I know not of the capacity of fairies for intoxicating beverages and what academy has bestowed an award on you for blessing the prince?"

Buttercup whacked herself in the forehead with her right hand, causing her antennae to vibrate, and made a face.

"Never mind, it's not important. The point is that the blessing was not made by mistake. It only appeared so. That is why you are owed an apology."

Recalling all of the tribulations that the blessing caused, the Queen entreated the fairy, "why would you do such a thing, Buttercup. Have we given some offense to you or your kind?"

"No, Queen Charlotte, to the contrary, it is because of a good deed performed by King Henry's ancestor and the fact that my sisters don't know when to leave well enough alone."

The King and Queen listened attentively as Buttercup continued with her explanation.

"You know of King Harold and his knights. How they died to save our woods from a dragon and how we fairies have forever after blessed his house. Well, I warned my sisters. I told them not to mess with the dragon. She must be removed they insisted. Why? Leave her alone and eventually she will get bored and go squat someplace else. The elves just built some really sweet condos at Oak Hill Park. We can move in there. They have hot and cold running wine and Jacuzzi's.

"What type of magical device is a Jacuzzi, Mistress Buttercup," the King inquired, provoking a glare from the Queen for interrupting the story.

"A Jacuzzi, you know, umm, a container filled with hot water, like what they do laundry in, but bigger. You sit in it to wash yourself and it blows bubbles up your … . Never mind, it's not important."

Buttercup paused to gather her thoughts and resumed her explanation.

"Would my stubborn sisters listen to me? No. Well, we cannot use our magic on other magical creatures, so they enlisted King Harold. Don't worry Buttercup, we mean no harm to the dragon. Once confronted, she will move on and all will be well. What mushroom have you girls been eating? Dragons have really nasty dispositions on their good days. They're a half ton of plated armor with teeth like daggers, razor sharp claws and really, really obnoxious breath. Nor were my sisters aware that it was a she dragon with a bad case of PMS.

The King, Queen and Princess looked blankly at Buttercup.

"You known, PMS, premature molting of scales, so she was in no mood to be rousted. Instead of politely departing, she decided to invite King Harold and his knights for lunch and they were the main course. It was no contest. Iron suits are the wrong sort of protection against a creature that breathes fire. It took about ten seconds to heat and serve. We just made up that business about there being a battle to honor King Harold's memory."

"How then did the dragon die, Mistress Buttercup," the King asked.

"Well, dragons are gluttons and they eat their victims whole, cows, sheep, horses, people. Mostly they're digestible, a bone or two, a hoof or horn to crunch, but a king and a dozen knights in full armor and their horses in battle dress gave her a terminal upset stomach. Served her right.

"That is indeed unfortunate, Mistress Buttercup," the King sympathized, "but what does that have to do with the prince becoming a princess?"

"Keep you tights on, I'm getting to that. Does he ever keep his mouth shut?" she asked, turning to Queen Charlotte.

Queen Charlotte shrugged noncommittally.

"Did you know that when a beast dies everything lets go?" Buttercup continued. "So we had a rotting reptile, a puddle of pee and a pile of poo on our hands, so to speak. Oh, and our magic doesn't work on other magic creatures or their waste products, dead or alive. Nice going sisters. Not only was there the smelly remains of the dragon cluttering up our woods, but their stupid plan had also left your Kingdom without a ruler and most of its knights gone. So we had to make a pledge to protect King Harold's realm and we've been babysitting his family ever since. Don't get me wrong, it's no big deal showing up every now and then to pop a blessing, but a problem has come up that requires us to put an end to it."

Buttercup surveyed the King, Queen and Princess to make sure they were paying attention.

"Over time, time longer than those of your world can imagine, our arcane scientist have been studying the lessening of our powers. It has been traced to the absorption of magic by your world, as sand soaks up water. At the last GLBT conference, oh, you would not know. G for the giants and large creatures, trolls, ogres and their kin; L for the little folk, pixies, brownies, leprechauns, they do not inhabit these parts, and others small enough to fit under a toadstool; B for the beasts, like dragons and unicorns; and T for the traditional magic folk, fairies, elves and gnomes to name a few. At the conference, it was decided that the only way to save our world was to seal it off from yours, but the promise my sisters made to be the protectors of your Kingdom means that we cannot depart. I'd gladly strangle them and put an end to it, as I was not in on the original deal, but magic creatures cannot do harm to others of their kind."

Buttercup looked up and said into the air, "just kidding, love ya," and then continued. "To solve the problem, we created this plan to turn the prince into a princess. Actually, it was my plan and it’s a doozy, umm, it's a really good one. Queen Charlotte, I know you have thought ill of us for depriving you of your baby and for that I apologize, but it was necessary for him to learn to be a boy before he became a girl. That training in the manly rather than the domestic arts has served her well, I believe."

"I was indeed angry with your kind, Mistress Buttercup, of that I make no pretense, but I have more than been recompensed by the joy the Princess has brought me."

"The Princess shares your good heart, Queen Charlotte, a quality that too serves her well for sure, and your forgiveness is gratefully accepted, but we have one parting gift to bestow, for you shall yet have a baby to care for."

Queen Charlotte and the King both gave Buttercup a startled look."

"Oh, no," she laughed, "you are to be its grandmother. It is the Princess who shall give birth to a son."

Buttercup turned to give the King a nasty look as he was about to speak.

"Okay, Hank," she challenged him, "you were about to say that the Princess is really a boy, so she can't have a baby, right?"

The King slid back on his throne.

"Let's get this straight. You see the little feelers up here?" She pointed to the antennae on top of her head poking through her pinkish hair. "They're useless, but really cute, don't you think?" Before he could agree, she continued, "and you see the little pointy ears and the wings, which I haven't any idea why we have, because we levitate, and the sparkly dress."

Buttercup paused, looked over her shoulder and asked rhetorically, "do you think this dress makes my butt look big, Charlotte? I mean what do little green goblins, whose women are about as attractive as the south end of a donkey going north, know about haute couture anyway? And do you know how embarrassing it is having a bunch of horny ogres looking up to catch a peek at your twat when you fly around? Hmm, then again… . Where was I? Oh, yeah."

Buttercup returned to berating King Henry.

"See the wand, the one that turns know-it-all kings into little green frogs?" Buttercup traced an arc in the air and little sparkles appeared. "Actually Charlotte," Buttercup digressed, "having a frog for a husband isn't such a bad thing. They're really portable. You can stick them in your pocket. Do your dresses have pockets? Well, an apron, whatever. And they have really long, flexible tongues, if you get my drift. What do you say?"

Buttercup winked at the Queen.

"Thank you kindly, Mistress Buttercup," the Queen played along, "but I have become accustomed to my husband in his present form and would prefer he remain so."

"As you wish, Queen Charlotte. So, umm, oh yeah, right. When a fairy says someone is going to have a baby, then you better start buying diapers. Got it?" she chided the King, who remained cowed.

"Here's the drill," she told Princess Charlene. "On your wedding nights," Buttercup paused and again looked up and spoke into the air. "You hear that Petunia, 'wedding nights', plural. You hooked that little servant girl up with just one sissy prince."

Buttercup turned to the King and Queen.

"Heh, heh, sorry, it’s a fairy thing. We tend to be a mite competitive." She looked up and made a rude gesture. "Heh, heh, well more than a mite."

Returning to Princess Charlene, Buttercup instructed her, "on your wedding nights, you're going to have to spit the first load from each of your husbands into the magic receptacle. After that, Sweetie, you're good to swallow."

Buttercup once again turned to the King and Queen, both of whom were blushing.

"What? Like you two never. Oh, yeah, King I'm-Smarter-Than-The Fairies had to make love to his pillow for a dozen years. We told him, don't mess with the magic, it always causes problems, but no, he wouldn't listen. Actually we knew he wouldn't, men never listen. I don't know what it is with them. I mean like last week I had a date with this troll." Buttercup gave Queen Charlotte a big grin. "They're hairy, they're smelly, they're ugly, they're dumb as rocks, but whoever said size doesn't matter never dated one. They can go all night too. Okay, so we're wandering around the enchanted woods looking for his cousin's cave. He grows these really groovy psychedelic mushrooms. Whoa. Anyway, after an hour I say to him, we're lost. No, he says, I know where we are. Okay, I say, where are we? It's right over the next hill, he insists. Finally I say to him, ask a wood nymph. No, they're dumb. Yeah, not like you dung for brains I wanted to say, but the bigger the creature the more sensitive, go figure. A crying troll is really pathetic and having damp fur makes them smell even worse. Anyway, I finally get directions from a wood nymph and by the time we arrived, all the best hors d'oeuvres were gone."

Buttercup paused to regain her concentration during which Princess Charlene observed, "the magic receptacle seems to be absent, Mistress Buttercup."

"Oh, yeah, right, sorry."

Buttercup took her wand, made a circle in the air, it turned black, as if it were a hole, she reached in, rummaged around and out came a crystal globe encased in an intricate web of gold filigree with a short neck and an elaborate gold stopper in the shape of two swans with their slender necks entwined to make a heart by which ring it could be drawn out. The globe had a soft bluish glow denoting its magic nature. Buttercup handed it to the Princess.

"Once you have filled it with your husbands'spe...," she paused and looked over her shoulder at the King and Queen, "specimen," she gave a little cough of derision, "turn the stopper three times to the right. It's not magic, it just seals it tight so the stuff inside doesn't come pouring out. Then recite the magic words: Star light, star bright… no, those are the wrong ones, that's for puppets into boys, we want boys into girls, okay, ummm, magic vessel in my hand, turn into a woman's gland. Eww, that's awful. I stink at rhymes. Actually, you don't need to say anything. The receptacle does it all, but it would have been a nice touch. We fairies love drama."

"Umm," Buttercup paused to once more collect her thoughts. "Okay, after you seal up the receptacle, shake it well. It will splice the genetic material, umm, put together the stuff inside, and your son, it's glowing blue, she confirmed, so it's a baby boy bottle, will have the best characteristics of his fathers. That night, take it to bed with you and hold it to you stomach. When you wake up in the morning, you will be preggo with all the trimmings, back pain, swollen ankles, barf your guts up, mood swings, cravings, wouldn't want you to miss out on the joys of maternity. In nine months you will deliver a bouncing baby prince. Your husbands will return to attend his birth, so that you won't miss the traditional opportunity to curse them out when the contractions hit and so that they can witness that it is your child."

Once again Buttercup looked up. "How about that Petunia? Glass footwear and vegetable transportation is so passé. We're talking about recombinant DNA and transmorphogenesis. High tech stuff. Heh, heh, sorry folks. That Petunia, always bragging, thinks she's such-a-much. Hah," Buttercup spoke back to the air, "no way, Petunia, this is one for the Gnomish Book of Records."

"Mistress Buttercup," the King ventured cautiously, "I wish not to provoke you, but please, the plan is of your devising. Why did the Prince need to become a Princess for it to succeed?"

Since fairies were all female, at least the kinds with wings and wands, they were natural feminists and so enjoyed asserting themselves over men, the King being no exception, but Buttercup, having had enough fun at his expense, relented.

"Your Highness, it is a fair question," she said deferentially to his surprise. "A woman by her nature is capable of conception. Although each Prince may be sure of his own abstention when alone with her, he could have no such confidence in the restraint of the others and none would believe that a child born of multiple unions is not the natural progeny of one. Therefore, for her husbands to have no doubt that the Princess remained a virgin on her wedding nights and that her child was theirs, conceived by magic, she could not be a woman."

Buttercup turned to the Princess and said familiarly, "It is for that reason, Charlene, that after your son's birth you shall have one day to nurse him. I would not deprive you of the most tender time of motherhood. Then the transformation will reverse and you will be as you were. By confirmation of that change when you have your annual conjugal visits, the princes will be assured that they were not duped by some clever masquerade. Unfortunately, with the change your breasts will once again become only decorative accessories. However, your son's godmothers-to-be, Elisse and Marlyne, are conveniently pregnant and will have plenty of milk to spare. As to the legitimacy of your child, the rumor was started upon your arrival that Prince Charles had been sent to Dalmacia. You will retire for one month, a period of recovery you may enjoy after five wedding nights in a row. It will be rumored that the King has decided that it would be more propitious if you were to wed Prince Charles and so the King has sent you to him in Dalmacia, his condition still requiring him to remain, but you returning pregnant. Your son will be accepted as the son of Prince Charles, the rightful heir to the Trimontaine throne, although your husbands will know better, but have no reason to dispute his claim.

"Thank you, Mistress Buttercup, and, if it does not try your patience, might you also explain how this plan of your devising relieves you and your sisters of your promise?"

"Another good question, King Henry," she replied to his relief. "Although the Princess will be her son's birth mother, having not contributed to his conception, her child will not be of King Harold's blood. So his house ends, the onus is lifted and we may depart. We are sorry, but there is no other way, although in consolation we offer you this. The dawning of a new age of peace and harmony for your Kingdom and all of the others, presided over by Charlene's son on his accession to King Harold's throne, and so it will last for ten generations, one hundred years. Beyond that, our magic's influence fails and with it the memory of our existence fades. Only tales of fairies will remain, but our legacy is that all shall have the same ending.

And they lived happily every after.