The Contest

That evening, during dinner with Hugh I put on a good show of being relaxed and happy about our forthcoming wedding. I noticed that he still looked extremely tired and strained and kept fidgeting around on his seat, as if he couldn’t settle, pushing his food aimlessly around his plate in a state of obvious agitation. Obsessed with the wedding plans, he kept insisting it should go ahead at the earliest opportunity.

I was now convinced that there was something seriously wrong with him, he seemed mentally unbalanced and tormented, and certainly not the person he was when he first came to stay at the palace. I was so bored by his repetitious rambling, that I quickly ended the conversation.

“Yes darling, I agree. There’s going to be a lot to do, but I’m sure it’s possible, I’ll tell my parents we want the wedding to go ahead in six weeks’ time.

He was ecstatic, and started leaping excitedly around the room.

“I think I need an early night,” I said, putting down my empty coffee cup on a side table and yawning loudly.

After kissing him goodnight, I just couldn’t resist the temptation. With fluttering eyelashes and a radiant smile plastered across my face, I added, “Before you know it I’ll be all yours.”

The quicker it happens, the sooner I can let him down and being my future with Scott, I thought, relieved and ready for retaliation!

The next day, my parents held an urgent meeting with all the palace staff. Mum opened her lap-tab and clicked on to the ‘wedding planner’ she had designed, detailing the many tasks to be completed in the short time available. She then allocated them individually to each member of staff, until she was satisfied that everyone knew exactly what they had to do. As always, she was extremely methodical and organised.

I had to endure the ordeal of a formal engagement photograph, smiling happily into the camera with Hugh. The official photograph was due to appear in the Cyber Chronicle that evening, along with a statement from the palace announcing the date for the wedding.

After lunch, I went to see Pen and we both agreed we should visit Vilelet together, to find out exactly what had gone wrong.

“Princess Eemay, how nice to see you again, I hope you have recovered. What can I do for you,” Vilelet asked, inviting us into her cluttered, filthy workshop.

“As you know, due to circumstances beyond my control, I was unable to collect the reversal spell personally and, Penny here, collected it on my behalf. The spell was administered following your exact instructions. You guaranteed that after thirty minutes, total reversal would take place, for which I paid your extortionate fee in cash. However, the little Spaniel, which we fully expected to be changed back into a handsome Prince, was actually transformed into an enormous German Shepherd! This error is totally unacceptable, so we came here today in the hope that you can provide an explanation, and a spell that will actually do what I paid you for.”

Vilelet struggled to maintain her composure. “Oh, I see,” she replied, shuffling nervously and avoiding eye contact.

“Just give me a few minutes,” she said. “There must be some mistake, I am meticulous about labelling.”

“I assure you Vilelet, there has been no mistake, your spell was administered to the letter.”

Her hefty frame waddled slowly over to a table littered with what looked like prescriptions waiting to be collected. She put on a pair of glasses, picked up each individual package and examined the labels intently. It was obvious she had made a mistake, and could not hide her embarrassment.

“It appears I gave you the wrong spell,” she admitted with reluctance, handing over another small package. “I must have misread the label, I do apologise but mistakes do happen, I am only human.”

“Lucky for you” I snarled, “I wish poor Scott could say the same!”

“I assure you this spell will bring about the required reversal.”

“Are you one hundred percent sure?” I pressed.

“Absolutely, without doubt,” she said with conviction.

“Get your eyes tested,” I retorted. “I must inform you that I will be contacting my solicitor immediately, to sue you for negligence, so see you in court.”

“Surely you don’t need to take such drastic action,” Vilelet responded, anxious that her reputation and business were at stake. “If I were to agree to a total refund of fees, would you reconsider?”

I deliberately took my time, appearing to consider her proposal at length.

“I will consider the matter closed but only if I am refunded in full, in cash, before I leave the premises.”

She looked hugely relieved and waddled off again returning with a wad of notes clutched in her filthy, fat hand, which she duly handed over.

Sitting at the same table, and counting the notes in exactly the same way that Vilelet had done during my previous visit, I smirked with satisfaction. “Everything seems to be in order,” I confirmed.

“Oh, one last point,” I said, suddenly remembering a question I needed to ask. “You were given a DNA sample, taken from Prince Mycroscott to culture the transformation spell. Can you tell me in what form this was provided?”

“I am sorry Princess Eemay, but this is confidential information that I simply cannot disclose.

“Very well Vilelet. It seems I have no choice but to contact my solicitor regarding your negligence after all,” I said, proceeding purposefully across the room towards the door.

“Wait a moment,” she ordered. “DNA can be extracted from a strand of hair, and that is all I am prepared to say.”

I left Vilelet’s workshop with a feeling of great relief and satisfaction. “Well at least I now have the correct spell, and my money back. Scott is safe, no-one is suspicious and he will soon be back with me in person.”

On my return I couldn’t wait to take the dogs out for their walk. I told Scott all about the mix up with the spells and of my intention to give him the correct one on the eve of my planned wedding to Hugh.

“Just as the wedding ceremony is about to start, you will make a surprise entrance, accuse Hugh of attempted murder, and of breaking the rules of The Contest, and then marry me there and then instead. What do you think?” I asked.

Scott stopped dead in his tracks and slumped down with a sort of stunned dog expression on his face. “Will you marry me Scott?” I asked.

He looked intently into my eyes, suddenly sprang up on to his hind legs, planted his huge paws on my shoulders, and barked.

“I’ll take that as a yes then shall I?”

He then proceeded to turn madly round and round in circles in a state of absolute joy and excitement.

“Oh, there’s one more thing I need to ask before I take you back. I found out from Vilelet that Hugh originally gave her a strand of your hair as a DNA sample for the spell. Did you meet up with Hugh, or may be bump into him before you were transformed into Icon?”

He barked twice in response.

Curious, I thought. Very curious!