The kingdom was recognizably Linda’s hometown, at least. Just twisted beyond measure in more ways than she could count. Common architecture made way for grand, European designs. Immaculate stone-paved roads weaved about without a single car in sight. Bright, colorful trees peppered the scene like a painted-on forest.
Linda reclined deep into the luxurious patio chair, in what was her first chance to relax of the day. Before her was an exquisite balcony garden, a view of her new kingdom, and a small round table decorated with fine teas and desserts. Most importantly, she was alone.
She took the opportunity to adjust her mountain-sized breasts. The damned things were trying too hard to knock the teaware over.
She managed well as queen, somehow. The running around and bureaucracy wasn’t too different to being a paralegal, when you ignored the fancy dresses and jewel-encrusted everything. People were still people, laws were still laws, and paperwork was still paperwork.
…And, admittedly, it was nice to be taken seriously for once.
Linda finished all the major responsibilities with reasonable efficiency and convinced the young secretary to push the rest until tomorrow. Finding Jon was easy; an offhanded mention of how “I desire tea with my eldest daughter. Privately,” and all servants in a ten meter radius scrambled to give her just that.
Her frown deepened. Linda didn’t love how easy this all was. How everyone was so willing to please her. How egregiously, stupidly beautiful she’d become. The new reality was absurd, and… It felt like everything kept inviting her to stay—
“Hi,” Jon announced flatly upon arrival. Like Linda, Jon was stuck looking like this world’s idea of royalty. A distractingly angelic face with round cheeks and pouty lips, atop the sort of body reserved for girls in his weird Japanese comic books. Impossible curves and a borderline-offensive chest size, tightly wrapped in an over-expensive outfit. A decidedly uncomfortable experience, judging how he stumbled about.
“Good you see you too, kiddo,” Linda said. “You’re looking…”
“Tired? Haggard? Dead inside?” Jon asked, his attempt at sounding grumpy undermined by his new, singsong voice. “It’s my friggin’ wish. Being treated like a princess is a lot less whimsical than you’d expect. Mostly etiquette classes. And political lessons. Then more etiquette classes. Also, phones don’t exist here. That’s the worst part.”
He dropped onto the other cushiony chair, grabbed the nearest pastry (a large muffin swirled with buttercream) and tore into it. With his current appearance, this was adorable.
Look how she’s sitting! You would believe her to be a low-born commoner, not royalty at all!
Linda glanced down at her own body. It was, well, posing. Back straight, ample chest thrust out, toned legs bent just so. All without her meaning to.
…Another byproduct from her wish earlier.
And a second wish would do as much good. We can’t have Princess Jeanne sauntering about like some undignified brat!
Linda squashed away the impulse and focused on Jon. “Did you come up with a wish to fix all this?”
“A few. I just gotta reframe the original—‘being treated like a princess’ is different than ‘being a princess,’ right?”
Linda nodded.
“So I emphasize that distinction. See if I can redirect my wish into ‘Jon Gibson gets treated like royalty for a day,’ and we should be able to fix all this. Probably.”
Linda paused. “Probably?”
“Probably,” Jon said, his delicate features tensing slightly. “This is assuming I have only one wish to work around.”
“Ah.”
“Mom,” Jon said. “Did you make a wish earlier? You’ve been moving more… I dunno, ‘daintily’ than usual.”
Much, much too lax. Even as the princess, she shouldn’t speak to us so casually, said the voice.
“...Maybe,” said Linda.
“Mom.”
“Oh, don’t give me that,” said Linda. “What did you want, that I burn this kingdom to the ground? I had to do something!”
“No, I…” Jon pouted, and… God, Linda almost apologized. Something about her son’s new face made it so hard to be terse with him. Thankfully, Jon didn’t seem to notice. “Sorry. Again. Your day was probably even worse than mine. Just, what wish did you make? Maybe I can work around it too.”
Linda answered. Jon went white.
“To be a proper queen?” He repeated back. “Not be like a queen? Not have the skills of a queen?”—He took a sharp breath— “That’s… Gonna be annoying.”
Linda recognized that look of worry. Creased eyebrows, a barely-there frown, the way he fidgeted with his hands. Jon, looking less like himself than ever, showed fear the same way he always did.
God damnit, Linda was starting to feel it too.
Pathetic. We are royalty. We are in control.
Still, she attempted a reassuring smile. “But it’s possible?”
“Sure. We can reframe the idea of ‘queen.’” Jon wiped a bit of buttercream from his mouth. “Like, give the wish another definition. Say you're technically a queen because of some distant, long-forgotten ancestor in real life. That kinda thing.”
Linda sighed. This was good. Workable.
“ ‘Course, we need to make sure this works,” Jon said. “Can I have the stone back?”
“...Alright,” said Linda. “But be careful. Please. And know we’re having a serious discussion after you fix all this.”
“Yeah, sure, whatever” said Jon, meekly. “Stone? Please?”
Linda nodded. Then, she didn’t move.
“Mom?” Jon asked. “The rock?”
“I…” Her eyes widened. Mouth fell open. Manicured hands continued to rest calmly on her lap. “This isn’t…”
Linda’s body would not listen to her.
“Mom!”
“I’m not doing this!” Linda shot back. “Jon. It’s my body—it won’t give you the stone.”
“What? Why!?”
Because she’s too young, obviously, answered the voice. Only the queen should have something so powerful.
Ah. Fuck.
And no queen swears so liberally!
Linda stared at Jon, deadpan. “Because my goddamn wish is making me act like an idiot, kiddo. But it’s fine. Maybe I can fix it myself.”
Jon shook his head. “You sure? You just said—”
“That my wish is affecting me, yeah,” said Linda. “And I’m realizing I want to end that ASAP.”
She reached for the stone hidden between her breasts—her body relented, this time—and held it tight. “I wish…”
Whatever Jon just said. Easy. Her queenly lips clamped themselves shut.
A surge of panic. Linda tried once more.
“I. Wish…!”
Again, nothing. Her lips forced themselves into a pretty little frown.
“I said, I wish…!”
Linda forced harder. No breath, no stopping, only pushing forward. She nearly succeeded, when a slow, regal voice poured out instead.
“...That the princess behave in a manner befitting her position!”
