You know what? Fuck this guy.

You can feel your Wizardly instincts telling you to sign the damn page, to let yourself get back to your idyllic life of research and hanging around super chill halflings. And you seriously consider doing just that. Dealing with all this royal shit seems like a big fucking hassle to you.

But that then you remember that little outline, back before you got turned into a spell-slinging hunk. What did it say? Something about having princely blood in your veins and falling in love? That didn't sound so bad to you. And after all, you answered that job offer to play a prince. What was the point of all this if you didn't at least try to be a goddamn prince?

Also, you kinda want a chance to chat up that elf chick. Before, she'd be way out of your league, but now with your rockin' bod, you might have a chance!

So you rebel against those instincts and take control. You wrench yourself out of the autopilot you were running on, grab the parchment this asshole was holding in front of you, hold it upright in your outstretched hand, and snap your fingers. The whole thing bursts into flames, and as you turn over your palm, nothing but cinders fall to the ground.

As Archie's face starts to turn a purpley red and swell with anger, you bend down a little to match his height, look him square in the eyes, take a deep breath, and whisper, "Fuck you."

You stood back up, rising to your full height, as a deathly silence falls over the three of you. But it only stays for a moment, as the elf, Trannelis, breaks it with a low chuckle. Well, at first. It doesn't take long for her giggle fit to pick up steam into a full belly laugh, until she's finally wheezing for breath, doubled over.

"AAARGH!" the defeated Archibald shouts, as he begins stomping backwards towards the carriage. Like, he's walking backwards while stomping the ground as hard as he could, gesticulating angrily at you the whole time. "YOU'LL REGRET THIS, YOU IMPETUOUS TWAT!"

What a fucking tool.

You just smile, doing your best impression of his smug prick face from a few moments before, as he violently swings the stagecoach door open. He takes a break from glaring at you to look over to Trannelis, who's still trying to recover from her fit. You move over to her to hold her by her side, to keep her shaking body from falling over. Oh god, even if she is laughing like a maniac, it's a little intimidating to be close to a woman that looked like her.

"AND YOU, MISS TRANNELIS! YOU ARE FIRED!" Archie finishes, as he jumps up in the stagecoach. The driver gives a little tip of his tricorne and whips the reigns, and a moment later they're heading off down the path, back the way they presumably came.

Trannelis' laughing fit eventually slows down, as her body shaking guffaws turn into nothing more than a small giggle, and sits down on the ground outside your cottage to recover. You kneel down next to her, partly because you're a little worried about her, and partly because you kinda just want to be close to her and stuff.

As she finishes, she looks up at you, still smiling. "I'm sorry, that wasn't very professional of me, Prince Crofton."

You shrug. "It's kind of my fault. You alright? I don't know if you heard Archie while you were laughing..."

She nods at you in response. "Yeah, I did. Can't say I'm too sad about it though. He wasn't the easiest boss to work for."

You sit down on the dirt next to her, both of your backs against your cottage door. "That's an understatement."

He snorted one last little laugh, and put her head back against the door and looked up at the sky. "And this was supposed to be an easy job. Track down the missing prince, get that little toad of a man to him, get back to the castle, and get paid."

This was incredible! Here was a beautiful woman talking to you for more than two seconds, and on top of that, she thought you were funny. Gotta play this one cool. "So, that's what you do then? You're a... tracker?"

She shrugged. "Not really. I've been taking odd jobs to make ends meet lately." She gestured at the stagecoach that was already cresting the last hill of Wayshire in the distance. "I'm pretty sure the Seneschal over there just hired me because I'm an elf."

You nodded, as you remembered something. A lot of people said the best trackers were elves, able to hear a twig snap from a mile away with their big pointy ears. I mean, sure, a lot of great rangers came from the Elven Territories, but it's a bit of an outdated stereotype at this point. Hey, thanks wizard brain!

She sighed. "Now I probably won't even have enough coin to get a ride back to the capital. I guess I'll have to walk." She winced a little at that, obviously not keen on the idea.

Wait, now she was going to be leaving? So soon? You barely had a chance to get to know her! Aaagh, think of something, quick!

"Well, umm, I've got to head that way anyway, what with the whole heir to the throne thing, and stuff. So, uh, how about I hire you?"

She looked at you, curiously. "Hire me? What for?"

Shit, shit! Think, wizard brain, think! "Well, I'm a prince, and I'll be walking the roads alone. Won't I need a bodyguard?"

She snorted. "Yeah, a bodyguard for a wizard. And how much would I get paid for this job, anyway?"

You were a little offended at that. You were trying to help, damnit! I mean, you weren't even sure if you had any money, what with your wallet being in your pants you didn't have anymore. Wait, hold the phone, you're a fucking prince! You're probably fucking loaded!

"You'll get paid when we get back to the castle, obviously. What, you don't think a prince-heir would have any cash?" You tried not to smile too smugly again, but it was hard.

She seemed to consider that a little more thoroughly. As she stands up, she says, "Yeah, alright, I'll escort the heir apparent back to his birthright. You've got a deal, my lord," and extends her hand out for you to shake.

You smiled in a charming way, at least you hope it came across charming, and took her hand in your grip. "You can just call me... uh... Crofton, I guess."

She smiled back at you. Jesus, she was gorgeous.

"And I'm Trannellis, but all my friends call me Nelly. At least they would, if I had any friends." Oh, and she's snarky. Maybe this prince thing wouldn't turn out so bad after all!