“We just wanted to let you know.” The sorceress pours the princess some tea and sits back, accepting milk and two sugars from the famed warrior.
The famed warrior crosses on leg over the other muscular thigh and smiles wryly at the princess. “Not,” she explains cheerily, “that we aren’t thrilled to have you, of course.”
“Of course,” the hero rotates gently in the magical ropes he’s currently trussed up in. He sounds cautiously optimistic. “We’re thrilled.”
“Shut up, you.” The sorceress wiggles her finger and the hero rotates around until he stops facing away from the modest little tea party set up on the dais where the reception was going to be.
“I don’t mind,” the princess agrees amicably, topping off the warrior’s tea from the small ornate teapot before glancing back at the hero. “I mean I wish he would have mentioned.” She pointedly looks at the hero’s well formed derriere floating nearby, artfully not covered in magical ropes.
“Sorry,” the face on the other side of the hero-shaped cocoon murmurs.
“He really is a nice man,” the sorceress continues, “but we like to keep everyone on the same page before they get involved. You’re welcome to marry him. He may not want to be King though when your mother passes.”
“That is something to think about,” the princess agrees, sipping her tea thoughtfully and munching on a scone, taking in the warrior’s happy grin and the scar on her lip. Cataloguing the sorceress’s glowing eyes and the way her hair is blowing in a non-existent breeze.
“Right, in my case being married just means that I can shut down the rest of the company when they get too rowdy. I just have to say ‘I’m a married woman!’ and they all get shy like school girls!” The warrior throws back her head and laughs uproariously at the memory.
“I also don’t mind,” the sorceress rolls her eyes fondly at the warrior. “It solved the problem of men showing up to my enchanted mountain with their magical un-eviling penises.”
They share a good laugh over that.
“Well. I suppose I wanted a love match,” the princess admits ruefully, “but I also didn’t want to marry a spoiled rich boy.” She grimaces.
“Oh by all means marry him then.” The Warrior points to the hero, who is wriggling to try and rotate himself to look at them. “Bonus! You get me, my whole company and this fearsome thing!” The warrior gently pats the sorceress’s thigh and gives it a fond squeeze, winking at her.
“Dearest, please.” The sorceress tuts at her, though her hand fondly pats the warrior’s massive one. Then she turns back to the princess. “But yes, do marry him if you’d like. You also get access to my magic spells when you needs them, and also I run a book club for witches and sorceresses that meets on the new moon. We each bring a baked good magically imbued with a different effect and it’s a lot of good fun.”
“I brought weed brownies to it once,” the warrior stage-whispers to the princess. “Absolutely hilarious.”
The princess has stopped looking speculatively at her hero, eyes instead on the warrior’s hand on the sorceress’s thigh.
“Definitely a lot to think about,” she says more to herself.
But honestly she’s already made up her mind.