They say a smile was worth a thousand words.

They were wrong.

My smile was worth more words than any tome could contain. And while the greatest scholars might one day hope to discern a fraction of the many nuances which went behind my lips curling upwards, none could truly understand the vast range of hidden meanings I communicated even while napping … usually resulting in a heap of rainbow macarons I needed to climb out from.

This time, however, there was little threat of that.

Because towards a wandering djinn with far too much time on her hands, the smile I offered left nothing for the imagination.

After all, it wasn’t macarons I wanted. At least not from her. It was a grovelling apology, untold amounts of compensation and whatever else I decided on the spot.

Thus, I smiled and waited.

Nothing else was required. For no matter how powerful a djinn’s magic was, little compared to the strength of a princess’s ire. That was a force no wish could repel.

And so … the maiden before me could only blink.

Her own smile faded. Her expression froze.

And then–

“Pfffffft.”

She burst out into laughter.

“Ahhahhahaha … ahahahahahahahaha … ahahahahha!!”

Clutching her stomach, she keeled over, trying and failing to hold back the amusement.

Where there was the faintest sheen of feigned politeness before, there was now only rabid chortling. The shameless guffaw of a full tavern rolled into one endless cackle. Loud, crass and bullish.

I was horrified.

Why, such crude, slovenly laughter at my expense!

… It was exactly the same way as how Coppelia did it! And if she wasn’t allowed to laugh at me in such a crude manner, then neither was anyone else!

“H-How dare you! This is no laughing matter! … And even if it was, certainly not like that!”

The djinn wasn’t listening.

Instead, she merely spluttered and coughed. The previously well-crafted face became creased with amusement as she expelled laughter with all the casual delight of a loitering vagabond who knew every emotion except remorse.

Fortunately, she could still learn.

“... Ahaha … hah … ugh, pain.“

The djinn grimaced as she straightened herself. Eventually.

“Actual pain, too. It’s been so long since I last felt such aching. And never this much from mere words. My apologies, dear customer, I mistook you for a simple girl wandering in the woods.”

“And I mistook you for a forest vagrant. I see you’re only a dancing leech instead.”

“I’m a dancer, yes, but not a leech. The Oasis of Dreams is a lovely experience. Just clearly not for you.” The djinn relaxed her smile, then flicked her wrist. “Yes, fine, I’m abusing a loophole to maintain my #1 ranking. But you of all people should understand what social status means.”

“Quite so. But unlike yourself, I’ve no need to hide in the middle of the desert to maintain my standing. I extort my peasants openly. It’s called taxes. And for kidnapping a princess, you’re now due to pay a contribution directly into my bottomless bag.”

I received only a snort in response.

Somehow, I preferred the rabid laughter.

“To threaten my Oasis of Dreams is amusing, dear customer. But to make demands of me is just brash.”

“Brash is laughter before I’ve explicitly called for it. But since few retain their wits before me, I can ignore the hysterics–just not a kidnapping with such a poorly tailored experience. To steal away a princess is the lifelong ambition of every ruffian better than yourself. To do it by chance is an insult.”

The djinn threatened a chortle.

Instead, she willed her lips together … just before adopting the same look my history tutor wore when I explained that lessons were cancelled because robbers had for some reason stolen every chalkboard in the Royal Villa.

“I shall take your words to heart,” she said, her tone between bored and bemused. “Sadly, complaints handling isn’t my forte. I must therefore advise you that expending a wish and then going about your day is far easier than arguing for the sake of pointless pride.”

“Please. Pride is the most important thing anyone can have. Without it, everyone might start loitering in a forest like a common roadside hoodlum. I can think of nothing worse.”

I held up my palm as the djinn opened her mouth, her face daring to wear a mild hint of indignation.

“–After all, there will eventually be someone who refuses to be coerced. So here is my advice. I suggest you point the way to the exit as well as a bag of suitable compensation. You might be a djinn. But I am a princess. And I grant my own wishes.”

I waited for a fingertip to point the way.

It never arrived. Only a raised eyebrow and a final snort of the day.

“I am a djinn,” she declared, floating a little higher for the sake of it. “I can become ethereal, invisible, air. Only the most powerful of magic may move me. And I do not invite mages to be my customers. What threats will you make other than to my stomach, wandering princess, before you inevitably wish yourself away once the sandcrawlers wake for a midday snack?”

It was a question which expected no reply.

After all, djinn were as shameless as they were elusive. The utter lack of concern on her face spoke as loudly as the mist swirling beneath her hips, ready to take her away at a moment’s notice.

But I wasn’t making a threat. I was making a promise.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Thus–

I peered around, identified the greatest pile of cushions … and then duly sat myself down.

“Very well, then. I shall stay.”

The djinn stared at me as I brushed the sand from the side of my boots.

“Excuse me?”

“My congratulations. You shall now play host to a princess.”

“You desire to experience the Oasis of Dreams, then … ?”

“Indeed, I do. I’ve been needlessly dismissive. The sparkle of the pond is truly mesmerising. I shall therefore experience it today, tomorrow and for all the days thereafter. This will now be my permanent residence. Thank you for inviting me to live in your abode.”

The djinn’s mouth suddenly widened.

“I am not inviting you to live here … and neither are the sandcrawlers. I mentioned them, yes? Several times?”

“You did, yes. And I’m certain they’ll make fine pets.”

“Sandcrawlers are not pets. They’re massive, burrowing monstrosities whose appetites cannot be quenched even by consuming the very ground. They’re voracious and utterly without mercy.”

“Wonderful. I look forward to taming them. Given their description, I expect they’ll do a wonderful job in ensuring that any unwanted guests remain at arm’s length.”

“Yes. Like customers who overstay. Which they will do since they’re very hungry.”

“Well, then why not ring a bell and summon them immediately?”

A blink met my suggestion.

“Excuse me?”

“To leave them hungry is needlessly cruel. I see your table is as sparse as your manners, but we can at least offer them some coconuts. By all means, please invite the sandcrawlers. I’m certain you’re on good enough terms with them by now, given that they clearly leave your tent alone.”

I waited for the djinn to whistle, clap her hands or tap her heels.

She didn’t. And so I feigned a gasp, fluttering my eyelashes for effect.

“Ah, what’s this? Could it possibly be that despite kidnapping innocents like a common hoodlum, you don’t actually intend for your victims to die? Perhaps there’s a rule or two about that? Or maybe the blood stains would simply be an awful distraction for when the next princess comes along to judge this sandy wasteland you call a paradise?”

“It’s not a wasteland,” said the djinn at once. “It’s practically a hammock. One in great demand. And so every customer is only allowed to stay for their allotted time slot.”

“My, I had no idea that actually indulging in your pond would be an inconvenience. So rejoice–I’m going to stay here. Forever. And each time a peasant comes along, I’ll ensure that every wish you extort will also include a scathing review until you’re doomed to irrelevance amongst your social circle.”

“That’s ridiculous. You cannot possibly be threatening to stay forever just to spite me.”

I offered a warm smile in response.

The djinn stared, her eyes narrowing as she leaned slightly forwards.

“... My gods,” she whispered after a moment. “You actually are.”

A look of utter disbelief met me.

I hardly saw why.

After all–to be a paragon of truth was to be a princess.

Ohhohohoohoho!

Indeed, here it was!

My most powerful, ultimate ability!

… [Princess Obstinacy]!

“I can spend endless days within the comfort of my bedroom,” I proudly declared. “And while a tent in the middle of nowhere hardly compares, the fact remains that I will not be daunted and never extorted. So rest assured–while the world ebbs and flows and your rivals overtake your standing, I will be right here, enjoying every moment until you break. So let us see who moves first. I am patient. Are you?”

The djinn looked indignant.

The wind swirling beneath her heightened. And for a moment, it almost looked like she was going to accept my heartfelt challenge.

“Ugh. Humans.”

Instead … she simply rolled her eyes.

“I offer a healing salve for your, frankly, awful existences. And all I receive in return is either suspicion or outright hostility. Well, be glad that I truly am a benevolent djinn and not one of my more carnivorous cousins. So fine. Have it your way. I’ve no desire to be inefficient. Keep your wish and enjoy whatever calamity comes about from having it. It is of no concern to me.”

Poof.

All of a sudden, a glowing, magical doorway with a mirror-like surface appeared beside my stack of cushions.

The sight of a beautiful green forest comforted my eyes at once. And also Apple’s nose … followed by his jaws as he proceeded to try and eat my exit.

He was shooed away a moment later by Coppelia, who showing all the grace of a handmaiden, stuck her face against the other side of the doorway. Her cheek squished against an invisible window, her large turquoise eyes blinking with curiosity as she tapped away with a fingertip.

Why she would stick her face in first and only poke afterwards, I wasn’t certain.

Still, I nodded.

Home awaited.

Hence–I rose from my stack of cushions, then offered a grateful smile along with my response.

“No.”

The djinn stared at me.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not leaving.”

“What do you mean you’re not leaving? The exit is right here. Look. I’m pointing at it.”

I held out my palm.

“Compensation,” I duly said.

A look of utter horror met me.

That was a good start. But she could do more.

“You cannot be serious.”

“Ohohohohoho.” I raised my other hand to my lips, barely covering my smile. “Why, I’m always serious. Especially when it comes to paying me for my time.”

“What compensation could you possibly want?” said the djinn, looking unreasonably aghast. “I have no money!”

“What do you mean no money? You’re a djinn. People plead for wealth all the time.”

“Yes, but we can’t just conjure gold crowns. Technically, all we do is summon it from elsewhere.”

“Then summon it from Granholtz. I’ll even be specific. The safe nearest the bedroom at the top of the White Citadel. It’s possible a woman is sleeping atop it. If so, you can summon her as well. But not here. Somewhere further out in the desert will do.”

“I can’t do that. My powers only transcend those of mortal magic when empowered by a wish.”

Ugh. These djinn.

They were floating nobility. They promised the world, but when it came to their taxes, they suddenly had nothing.

“Fine. You may offer me what you have on hand. Or rather, your arm. I see you’ve some gold bracelets on you.”

“I cannot give you these!” said the djinn, her mouth widening with a huff. “This is part of my dancing attire! And it’s worth more than you could possibly imagine!”

I clapped my hands in delight.

“My, is that so? … Then I’ll take your bracelets plus everything else you have. I see several rings of middling quality, a necklace of tourmaline beads and a pair of jade ear hoops. They’ll do for a start. Otherwise, I can also remain here and allow you to enjoy my smile until the end of time.”

The djinn wrinkled her nose in a way which could make goblins gasp.

For a moment, she did nothing but thoroughly compromise her beautiful façade. After all, she knew that my forever presence and all the sweets she’d need to feed me was a joy that a djinn whose roadside mischief hardly deserved.

Then, she slipped off her various pieces of jewellery with nothing more than a roll of her eyes.

She lightly flung them towards me. All fell slightly short.

“You have little idea how threatening that is,” she said, already flicking her wrist at me. “Now go, before you ruin my next appointment. Be glad that I’ll only treat this as a business expense.”

I offered a curtsey while scooping up the taxes into my bottomless pouch.

“Thank you. You’re correct. This has been a healing experience.”

The djinn paused for a moment. A puff of air left her nostrils.

“You’re most welcome,” she said, arms crossing as she turned away, one part stoic professionalism and one part indignant. “And remember–Amissa the Benevolent. Be certain to leave a good review.”

She waited, adamantly looking anywhere but me.

At least until I still wasn’t leaving.

“... Why aren’t you gone?”

“I’m not done yet.”

“What do you mean you’re not done yet? What more do you want? Sand?”

I pointed outside while wearing the smile she’d be missing.

“Please give me some coconuts.”