precarious | Glowfic Constellation

Roxim is a pretty decent host as dragons go. He doesn't nag Milo about the speed at which he's doing his assigned chores and does not invite over his dragon friends to overtax Milo's cooking abilities. He is friendly and cheerful and nearsighted and persistently confused about Milo's gender.

When Roxim is out doing something, there are two visitors to his part of the caves, both of them princesses. "Hullo?" calls one of them, echoing in the halls. "We heard Roxim had a princess?"

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Milo has by this time come to a much better accord with his wardrobe, and is wearing clothes suitable for cleaning a kitchen in, which is what he was doing before they showed up. He makes his way to the entrance of Roxim's caves.

"I'm afraid you heard an inaccurate rumour," he says, giving each princess a small bow. "Prince Milo of Raxwell. Pleased to meet you. Roxim mistook me for a princess when I was out for a ride."

The princesses - both of whom are, in fact, princesses - peer at him.

"How peculiar," comments the taller one, a brunette; hers is the same voice that called out in his direction. "Well, I am Beryl of the kingdom of Querath, captive of the dragon Tharwex, and this is Chirailia of the Duchy of Otashire, captive of the dragon Nandgar."

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He smiles up at both of them.

"Hello, your highnesses. Did you want to come in for tea? I'm not the world's best cook but I do make a perfectly respectable pot of tea."

"Thank you," says Beryl. "We would like that."

"I've heard that Roxim can't see very well," says Chirailia, "so he could have been mixed up, but if you're a prince, why don't you just defeat him yourself and go home?"

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"I'm under a curse," he explains. "A particularly nasty one. I'll spare you the details, but it means I can't fight. This way to the kitchen."

He leads them there and puts the kettle on.

The princesses sit. "That's a pity," says Beryl sympathetically. "But if you're a prince is anybody going to rescue you? They couldn't reasonably expect your hand in marriage unless you have very forward-thinking parents."

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...Well, that would be one way to unite the crown of Raxwell...

Oh dear.

Banishing all thought of Duke Reko riding to his rescue (he probably still thinks of Milo as a kid anyway, and does he even like boys, Milo has not asked, Milo is still largely pretending not to like anyone), he gets out an appropriate number of teacups.

"I think once my parents find out I'm here they'll send a relative or something. They're not going to offer half the kingdom to a stranger for me, though, Raxwell has had enough trouble with that sort of thing already."

"Oh?" asks Chirailia politely.

"I suppose a relative would also work. Although my brother tried and he lost," says Beryl thoughtfully.

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"Have you not heard the story of the kingdom of Raxwell? Would you like to?"

"Please," nods Chirailia.

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"Well. Many years ago, Raxwell was a bigger kingdom, with a magic crown. Then one of my ancestors, the last King of Raxwell, offered half his kingdom and his daughter's hand in marriage to whichever hero could solve the problem he was having. Lot of rampaging monsters, nothing very unusual. A man named Ferdinand completed the task and claimed the reward, but the promised princess didn't like the look of him, so she ran away. Ferdinand was not amused. The king got a bit desperate, lacking any more spare daughters; he went out and found an orphan girl of an acceptable age with dreams of being a princess, adopted her on the spot, and presented her to Ferdinand. Whereupon, in protest of his insincerity, the crown of Raxwell promptly cracked in half."

The kettle boils. He pours the tea.

"Now there's Raxwell and Ferdinandia, both ruled by Dukes, because without a whole crown neither one can confirm a king. We've been trying to reunite the kingdom ever since Ferdinand died, but it hasn't been that many generations and nobody's managed it yet."

"Oh, what a curious situation," says Beryl. "What ever happened to the runaway princess?"

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"She moved in with a retired sorceress. Never married. The king went on a quest of his own to try to convince her to come back to Raxwell in case it fixed the crown, but she told him to go jump in a lake."

"Oh dear," titters Chirailia. "So I suppose you're hoping that one day your children and the children of whoever's ruling Ferdinandia will marry?"

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"That's the idea. But Duke Reko's not married and I'm only fifteen, so it might be a while before either of us has children." He shrugs. "Someday, I guess."

"Why is it particularly desirable to reunite them?" wonders Beryl. "Was the crown just that lovely all by itself?"

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"It was very pretty, and a lot of people think Ferdinandia is a silly name, and like the idea of being a kingdom better than the idea of being two duchies - and for me personally, my naming-day curse ends when the crown of Raxwell is made whole."

"Oh! How did that come about?" Beryl asks. "What an odd way to end a curse."

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"Raxwell has a wicked fairy who mostly doesn't bother anyone, but she was very annoyed that day."

"Maybe someone should defeat her. Would that help?"

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"Unfortunately, no. It's a strong curse with a perfectly legitimate ending condition; she couldn't break it even if she wanted to, and defeating her wouldn't do a thing."

"How annoying," sympathizes Chirailia. "I have a curse too but it's very minor. I think the faerie was running out of ideas."

"She's tone-deaf," explains Beryl.

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"That sounds slightly inconvenient for a princess. Sorry to hear it."