“You’re a princess!?” Grom asked seconds into the start of Ellen’s story as they sat in their typical booth.

  Unlike usual, there was a one-way silence barrier around them, preventing sound from entering or leaving but not cancelling all sound within.

  “Only technically,” Ellen said. “And that’s not the point.”

  “How is ‘only technically’ being a princess any different from being a princess,” Syril asked.

  “It’s complicated,” Ellen said.

  “Is you grandfather a king?” Syril asked.

  “I literally just told you that,” Ellen said.

  “Are you in the line of succession for his throne?” Syril asked.

  “Yes,” Ellen said, dragging out the word reluctantly. “But I’m never actually going to be the queen, so it doesn’t matter. Now do you want to hear why my cousin is the worst or not?”

  All were quiet, but then Bill rose his hand.

  “You don’t have to raise your hand,” Ellen said.

  “So… should I tell people I slept with a princess, or that I ‘technically’ slept with a princess? I don’t want to be dishonest about it.”

  “You should say you slept with a “technical princess,” Grom said.

  “No, that’s ridiculous; she’s not a royal tinker,” Syril said.

  “If you tell anyone any of those, I’ll let Newt eat your eyes in your sleep,” Ellen said.

  “Uh.... I suggest not letting Newt do that,” Grom said.

  “Why not?” Syril asked. “Besides the obvious reasons of course.”

  “Linar paid me to regrow the assassins’ eyes, but they didn’t come back right,” Grom said. “The man’s gone insane. He keeps seeing monsters everywhere.”

  “You used Cland’s power to heal the eyes of a criminal?” Bill asked.

  “If he didn’t want it done, he wouldn’t have let me do it,” Grom said, falling back to his favorite answer to Bill’s increasing insistent questions.

  “Alright,” Ellen said, standing. “I’m leaving.”

  “Wait!” Syril said. “We’ll listen, please, start over.”

  “Fine,” Ellen said, sitting back down. “But no more comments. I need to explain some background for this to all make sense.”

  She eyed the men, and when none of them spoke, she began again.

  ***

  Once upon a time there was a kingdom where the sun always shone, the skies were always blue, the rains always came, and the people were always happy. The court wizards saw to that. The king was not the best of kings, nor was he the worst. He cared about his people, but his ability to rule was… lacking.

  Despite his inadequacies, he excelled at the most important royal duty of all. Procreation.

  So skilled was he at the task, that his first attempt to produce an heir created two. Both were strong, healthy, and identical.

  As was the case with the royal births of twins, the first limb to exit the mother was marked with a ribbon, in case the baby retreated back into the womb. For if the wrong twin was named heir…. something horrible would almost certainly happen.

  Definitely.

  The birth went well, and the mother even survived. Merriment was had by all, and a celebration was held where all were invited. Well not all all, but all the important people.

  The king sent out invitations to all the nobles of his kingdom and the surrounding allies. Each who could attend brought a gift, and those that couldn’t sent their best wishes and coin.

  The celebration was grand, and all who came were awed by the grandeur on display. A procession was held, and each guest came to meet the children and bestow upon them their gifts.

  Gold, arms, armor and gems were given to the children, each gift more grand that the last. The dwarven lords brought with them precious minerals from the shores of the deep lava seas. The elves gifted bows made from the heartwood of their eldest tree, given freely by the tree itself. The halflings brought spirits for the party, and the promise to bring more once the boys were old enough to partake. The giants brought with them the largest boulder their chief could carry, and a very special place was set aside for it, right in the courtyard where they left it, as none could move it without the aid of magic, an act that would be offensive to the giant clans.

  When the representative of the Fey was about to give her gift, the magical lights illuminating the room went out, and a magical darkness filled the hall. When it faded, a woman, horned and winged, stood before them all.

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  The Fey Sorceress Malevolent, the mistress of all that was not good, had come.

  “Greetings,” she said, taking in the crowd, frozen in place by her magic. “Sorry for my late arrival, but it seems my invitation was lost in the mail. I swear, you eat one or two couriers and they simply stop coming.”

  She looked at the king and gave a menacing smile. Using each of her leathery wings, she lifted the babies.

  “While I received no invitation, I shall still nonetheless grant these two royal heirs a boon.”

  She began chanting, the babies rising into the air as her magics went to work on them.

  “Two are born, each with a name,

  Despite that they appear the same.

  One the heir and one the spare,

  Which is which? You will not know,

  This I swear.

  By my power they are one,

  And who is eldest shall be known by none!”

  “I give them this gift,” she said. “In all things these brothers will be matched, but in the end the true heir shall reveal himself through his deeds. On their twentieth birthday, they will fight to the death, and the most deserving will be king.”

  Then, she vanished, leaving the babies in their bassinets almost exactly as she’d found them. At her departure, the freezing spell failed, and the King and Queen ran to inspect their children. Before, the babies had worn different outfits, with the first born wearing a golden bracelet to mark him as heir. But both now wore bracelets of silver, and their clothing was the same.

  They checked the infants over for marks. The younger had been born with a birthmark on his shoulder in the shape of a crescent moon. The birthmark had changed, and both had a new mark—the crescent moon had been split in half; each side rotated to appear as the horns of the sorcerous.

  The court wizard tried to divine which was the heir, but the spell that made them the same made it impossible to divine and none could break it or the curse. The fairy offered her aid, but it was rejected, as their gifts were never free.

  The king tried everything to break the curse. The kiss of their parents did nothing, for that was the closest to true love’s kiss that could be had. Animals were sacrificed, wizards, witches, and clerics were called, but none of it worked. Ideas were floated. Put the boys to sleep until after their twentieth birthday? Lock them in separate towers? Turn them to immortal beasts that could not murder each other if they tried? Whether due to believed feasibility or attainability, all ideas were rejected, though none without fierce debate.

  Eventually the king relented and called back for the fairy. With a flash she appeared, a gorgeous woman adorned in a gown of blue crystal.

  “I cannot break the curse,” she said, “But I can change it. No longer will death mark the heir but devotion. On their twentieth birthday, both will find their true love. Whichever brother is faithful will be the heir, and the other will serve him as a loyal supporter.”

  “And what will be the cost of this?” the king asked.

  “The first born of the faithless will be mine,” she said.

  The king didn’t hesitate for a moment, taking the deal. The yet unborn child of the back-up heir had no value in his eyes and was an easy price to pay for the life of his sons.

  The fey performed her magics and told the king she would return to collect her payment.

  Despite his rapid agreement, the king still feared the curse had not been broken. In his infinite wisdom he thought that they couldn’t kill a brother they didn’t know existed. The king arranged for each son to be fostered in neighboring kingdoms, knowing themselves to be royal princes, but not knowing that they had a brother.

  The plan was doomed to fail. For those that seek to subvert destiny only make themselves the agents of its inevitability.

  The two princes grew up not knowing of each other. Each fell in love with a lady of their foster court. After their twentieth birthdays passed without a killing, they were called home. Their loves each requested to follow, but their permission was denied. The princes each vowed to return for them, but neither maiden would wait.

  Each snuck out of their golden prisons and travelled to Aldonia in the guise of a peasant. When they arrived in the city, they snuck into the palace to find their princes.

  The curse of the sorcerous was powerful indeed, for each brother was so equally matched, they both fell in love with sisters as alike as they.

  The maidens, you see, were identical twins, similarly separated by a king trying to outwit a deal with the fey.

  Their particular deal guaranteed both would marry a king, but that each would cheat on theirs with the other’s betrothed. If this was to come to pass, the child of any such union would be given to the fey.

  So, as each sister got back to the castle, they encountered the prince who they thought was theirs. After such a separation, their reunions were urgent and intimate. Each had thought they’d found their true love but had in fact found the love of their unknown sibling. They didn’t even realize what they’d done as both sisters fled in the night lest they be found in the morning.

  The princes arranged for their maidens—though the term no longer applied to either—to sneak into the throne room at the time of their reunion with their father the king. There was a dramatic and emotional reveal as both princes learned they had a brother, and at the sight of the pair, each sister ran from the crowd, only to see their own unknown twin across from them.

  There was much furor, but in the end, it was settled with joy and happiness at the reunion of families. Rejoicing that his sons had each found love, the king performed a grand double wedding and all was well until nine months later when the princesses went into labor, each having daughters at the same time down to the second.

  The fey emissary arrived, just as the infants were handed to their mothers.

  “I shall take those children, born out of wedlock and betrayal,” she said to the king that stood between his granddaughters and the fairy.

  All denied the betrayal, though were silent about the wedlock bit. All claimed to be loyal, but the fairy proved through magic—and the court wizards verified—that the father of each girl was the husband of the other sister. Both princes were deemed faithless, and both princesses had born children out of infidelity.

  The daughters were taken, their lives doubly bargained away by their royal grandfathers on both sides, and the king was left with two heirs once more.

  Distraught at their losses, the princes bonded over their grief. Both declared that they would be corulers, and the first-born male of either would be the heir to their joint rule.

  And so it was that the two princes became kings and ushered their kingdom into further prosperity. Prosperity not enforced by a wizard’s staff, as both kings were not only caring, but capable rulers.

  ?