Dragons Aren't Real

The genie studied the contract of wishes:

  1. Dragons have never been real.
  2. Anyone I am engaged to will die the night before our wedding, unless they bring me a real dragon's corpse.
  3. I will have a husband before I grow old.

The genie brought out reading glasses, held the contract close to its face, glanced at the princess, then went back to studying. It mouthed something to itself, and moved its hand slightly as if manipulating various possibilities. The princess leaned against the wall and smirked.

The genie peered over the top of its reading glasses at the princess. "Are you, by any chance, a laywer?"

"Hah. If I had a nickel for every time I've been asked that."

"Are you perchance aiming at immortality?"

The princess smirked.

"Because, if you are, it would be much more direct to just ask for immortality, rather than this tied-up logic here. It would leave you with two additional wishes to boot."

The princess frowned. "Its says what I want it to say."

The genie rolled its eyes, shook its head, and raised its hands. "So be it. Abracadabra, alakazam etc etc etc. Your wishes are granted."

There was a boom and a cloud of purple haze filled the room. It cleared, leaving just the princess and the lamp. Sweetpea, the princess, picked up the lamp and rubbed it. Nothing happened. It appeared to be just a lamp again. She left it there on the floor of the cave and walked back out into the sunlight.


On the way back to the castle she was accosted by brigands. They took her jewelry and held a knife to her throat. "Aye, look at this pretty! Who wants to take her first?" asked one of the ruffians.

"Unhand me! I am the princess!"

"What if we just slit your throat?"

She smirked. "Go ahead."

The ruffian paused, uncertain. "Go ahead? What trick do you have up your sleeve?"

"I don't know," she said. "But I'm cursed. I will have a husband before I grow old, and I haven't had a husband, so slitting my throat won't work. I don't know how the curse will prevent it."

"But, if I slit your throat now, you won't ever grow old, right?'

The princess opened her mouth, froze, then looked panicked.

Around the bend came a bigger, older, uglier brigand. "All hail, King of Thieves!" said the first ruffian.

"Oh, this is a nice one. Saving her for me, are you?" asked the king.

"Oh no, she's a princess. She's above that, you see. You shouldn't deflower a princess, it wouldn't be proper."

"Seems awfully proper to me."

"No no ... here, I have an idea. I'll just marry you two first."

"WHAT?" asked the princess. "You can't do that! It's the curse again. Yes, I am to be married before I grow old. But anyone who is engaged to me will die the night before I am married. You'd be cursing yourself to die."

"No ... I don't see that." said the King of Thieves. "I'm not engaged to you, am I? It's not even my idea to marry you. Dumble here's the one insisting on it. And how could I possibly die yesterday? Go ahead, Dumble."

"Do you princess, um, what's your name?"

"Fibberblicket," said princess Sweetpea.

"Do you, whateveryournameis, take Simon Law, King of Thieves, as your lawfully wedded husband?"

"Nghhhgggg", said the princess, and Dumble clamped her mouth shut and forced her head to wiggle up and down.

"And do you, Simon Law, King of Thieves, take whatshername as your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," said the King.

"Then by the knife I have pressed to her throat, I now pronounce you Aaaaarghhhhh!"

An arrow pierced Dumble's throat. His eyes bugged out, he let go of the princess, held his bleeding throat, and collapsed.

A swarm of armed soldiers burst from the woods, and the remaining ruffians engaged them in a melee of knives, swords, and rapiers. The princess backed up, wove, dodged, and generally tried to escape, but she was surrounded by whirling metal. Grunts and sweat and blood filled the air. She ended up with her back pressed against a tree so she could just watch for danger ahead, not behind as well.


The soldiers eventually proved the superior force, with the ruffians melting into the woods. The soldier major dismounted from his horse, wiped the blood off his rapier, then fetched a funny-looking fruit from his satchel.

"Are you OK?" he asked, offering her the fruit. "Here, have something to eat, it'll calm your nerves."

"What is this?" asked the princess.

"Oh, it's from a tree I have growing on my property. It's not common around here, but I found it on my travels and liked it, so I brought it home. It's called dragon's corpse."

The princess choked. Juice dribbled out the corner of her mouth.

"Don't worry. It's true, there's another fruit that looks like it that is poisonous, called False Dragon's Corpse, but I assure you this is a real dragon's corpse. Totally harmless."

"Well!" said the princess. "I can tell you one thing. I am never going to marry you!"

"Marry me?" asked the major, amused. "That's awfully direct of you, don't you think?"

"I'm sorry," said the princess. "I'm just having a bad day."

"Well I'm happy to have been of service. Where were you off to, anyhow, walking through the woods alone like this?"

"I'm Princess Sweetpea. I'm going back to the castle. What I am doing out here is none of your business."

"The princess!" said the major, aghast. "Well. Well well well. Hm. I'm afraid I might have to end up marrying you anyhow."

The princess stared.

"You see, my father is king of the neighboring kingdom. My father and yours have arranged for me to marry you, to unite our kingdoms."

The princess stared.

"You could say, I suppose, that we are already engaged."

The princess closed her eyes and wrung her hands. She was going to go back to that cave, she was going to find that lamp, and she was going to beat it to pieces with a very large rock.

"Come, let us return to your past, and my future, home!" said the major.

Suddenly a blast of white flame engulfed the whole party. The major and all his soldiers screamed in agony as they bubbled and were burnt to a crisp. Sweetpea, however, was unharmed. The flames surrounded her, sure they were very hot, but somehow it didn't matter for her.


A dragon ambled into the clearing.

"Ah. I see you have been having a bad day, Sweetpea."

Princess Sweetpea stared in shock.

"Dragon's aren't real."

"Well of course not," said the dragon.

"But you're a dragon. You've got the wings, the scales, the snake eyes, you breathe fire, and I bet you're magical and immortal can change into a person too."

"Yes of course. I am all those things," said the dragon, changing into the old washerwoman Emma that Princess Sweetpea had known all her life. "Except, I'm not a dragon. Dragons are mythical. I'm a Saurian."

"What's the difference between a Saurian and a dragon?" asked Sweetpea.

"Dragons have this thing about hoarding gold," said Emma. "I'm not so constrained." Emma picked up Sweetpea's golden necklace from the ground, admired it, and stashed it in her pocket.

"How did I survive your fire?"

"You're my daughter. You're a Saurian and you always have been. I swapped you for the real princess at birth. I've been having her wash clothes all her life. Heh heh. She's got a knack for it, though, I must say."

"Ooooh, that friggin genie!!!" said Sweetpea.

"Your brother Fred," said Emma. "Such a joker."


This was in response to a prompt on reddit.com r/WritingPrompts, "A princess finds a genie and asks for three wishes, and ends up immortal instead. Her wishes? 1. Dragons have never been real. 2. Anyone she is engaged to will die the night before the wedding, unless they bring her a real dragon's corpse. 3. She will have a husband before she grows old."


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