King Ethelred usually considered himself the prepared and organised sort, but for the return of his daughter , and the consecutive personality difference , he found himself quite unready, or at least unable to understand.

First of all she was running round in no jewellery whatsoever, which by itself would be something of a shock. Then she had come out armed, at a sensible hour, and dressed in practical attire. Then as if to add even more confusion to the mix when he had sought to give her an excuse as to why the jewel she so ardently sought she had said the one line that was unthinkable.

“Don’t worry about it Father, who needs a shiny rock?” At that the king had nearly had a heart attack, and was now consulting with the royal magicians to ensure she wasn’t a shapeshifter.

Melvin the court sorcerer quickly set up countermeasures, only to reach a shocking revelation, he could handle demons, monsters, ghouls, and ghosts. But according to his scrying this really was the crown princess, (and nobody handled the crown princess.)

King Ethelred sat by a window, peering down at his daughter, desperately training, and could not help but wonder what had gotten into her.

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Of course what had gotten into her, as we all know was a rather energetic frog, who had come to the realisation these hand things were pretty damn useful, and for once she was big enough not to be a snack. The result of this was generations upon generations of froggy grudges coalescing into an amphibian with attitude, armed, and angry.

The guards stood well back as she trained, until her arms (still felt weird to her that these were apparently her arms for now) felt like noodles. Rested awhile , then picked Choppy back up and started all over again. Eventually Rosalind managed to coax her into a more sedate activity, specifically the library. Lasting all of ten minutes before Mibbet felt like her head would explode.

It was apparently basic maths, but numbers were far too abstract to begin with, so Rosalind had settled for explaining using the old abstract how many apples formula. This however just confused Mibbet further. I mean if you have ten flies never mind how many you give away (and who gives away perfectly good flies). Your biggest concern is keeping the little buggers from flying away before you can eat a single one of them.

They’re fast, and they fly. Rosalind tried swapping it out for slugs, only to get a revolted shudder from Mibbet. Along with the suggestion that she get rid of them all as quickly as possible. To say Mibbet was not a fan of slug was like saying the frozen north may be a little bit nippy.

She tried again this time even going as far as to design theoretical a containment facility for the flies, only for Mibbet to become distracted by the prospect of farming flies, even going as far as to study the different types (looking for the tastiest ones to farm of course.) if she ever got back to her normal body this could be the start of an amphibian agricultural advancement.

Moving swiftly on Rosalind swapped onto the subject of physics, and finally managed to hold Mibbets attention for longer than five seconds straight, by encouraging her to work on theoretical fly cages, and ways they could be produced by the admittedly limited production capability of frogs.

That all came crashing down with the call for lunch of course.

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Mibbet stared at the bowl in a mix of horror, shock, and disgusted outrage. How dare they serve her this........ In front of her sat a large helping of the chefs finest cuisses de grenouille.

Mibbet felt her rage bubbling over, what did they think she was? A cannibal? At her order the royal chef was rapidly ousted from his kitchen and dragged in front of her, she looked absolutely furious.

Chef Grand Cwisinne bowed low, wringing his hat in his hands nervously. as the Princess glowered at him for a moment. “What do you call this?”

“Cuisses de grenouille.” Replied the Chef.

“Spread the word, the next chef who brings this dish anywhere near me will find themselves with less legs than these poor frogs. from this day forward cuisses de grenouille (She practically spat the name) will never be served within this kingdom.”

“Understood your highness.” The head chef bowed low. “may I ask the reason for this ruling?“

Mibbet desperately thought as she tried to cook up a reason. (Not that she needed one according to Rosalind, her name was enough). But eventually something she had seen in the books popped into her mind. She remembered the tastiest flies were the ones with a needle nose, and books mentioning them making humans sick.

“Frogs serve a vital purpose within the kingdom” Mibbet bluffed, pulling out practically every idea she could from every little toe rag who had tried to manipulate Rosalind over the years. (Unsuccessfully of course). “They feed on mosquitoes, mosquitoes that carry diseases that could infect my subjects. Mosquitoes breed really, really fast, and frogs are our best defense. Now if you want to die of some horrible disease like the disgusting malearea then that’s your choice. But I really don’t suggest it, and to stop it we need frogs. So frog is not on the menu.”

Even though she didn’t have to explain really, that seemed to satisfy him. He dashed off as soon as he was dismissed and headed back to the kitchen. Eventually a new dish was brought forward and presented before her.

She uncovered the dish, only to be confronted by a steaming bowl of fresh ESCARGOT.