The last goblin screamed briefly, and fell to the floor. Alban stood and stared at its body, before sheathing his sword and sitting down, exhausted. The battle against the goblins had lasted for over an hour and, though all of the villainous creatures were dead, he didn’t consider it a victory. Three of his men had died as well. Though they had been by name his servants, they had also been his friends, and he felt more than a little responsible for their deaths. Still, they all knew that this quest would be a dangerous one, and they had been lucky in getting this far in the first place.

Now only three of them remained. Alban’s close friend, Turas, whom he had known since childhood; his squire, Shardon, only seventeen years of age; and himself, Alban, twenty-three years of age, prince of the Elgonite kingdom, oldest son of king Mildar, and thus heir to the kingship. His father, though old, was still very much full of life, and the prince expected it would be some time indeed before he himself ascended the throne. But he was in no way eager to become king: in fact, he considered it a trying job, and he would prefer a life of leisure over the demanding life of a ruler any day.

Having already completed his tutoring, Alban began to go on a series of adventures, ‘missions’ or ‘quests’, as he called them. These were mostly concerned with hunting some or other legendary beast, infiltrating and looting bandit lairs, and other similar feats of boldness. He had learnt much about combat and bravery during these quests, and had come to depend greatly on the help of his circle of friends, who all enjoyed a bit of action as much as he did. But this particular expedition was quite a different one, proving much harder than any of them suspected, and Alban wondered if it would be worth it in the end.

They were now in the lands of the Vandanians, a race of giants who were, thankfully, long extinct. But their castles remained, though they were now infested with goblins and other nasty creatures, and many of them were rumoured to contain vast amounts of treasure. This particular castle seemed in an especially good condition, with much of the giants’ furniture and other utensils still remaining, no doubt because it was so difficult to reach. And, as it was told in legends, there sleeps, deep within an inner chamber, a wondrously beautiful princess, captured long ago by the giants, and put under a curse which only true love’s kiss can break.

Alban used to dismiss such fairytale legends as being just that, but, since he had begun his travels outside his father’s kingdom, he had indeed seen many strange and wonderful sights, and he soon decided to investigate each of these rumours, to see if some truth did not perhaps lie behind them.

But, to return to the present, they had still found nothing but a horde of goblins, which had put up a terrific fight, and now they had lost three of their party. Alban hoped there were no more unpleasant surprises lying ahead, as they had come too far to turn back. He looked at Turas, who gave him a slight nod, and, after saying farewell to their fallen companions, the three of them headed on. They passed through vast hallways and rooms, covered in dust but still in an immaculate condition. Many rooms were even sealed by enormous doors, and into these they could not go.

Eventually, after almost two hours of walking, and encountering no more enemies, they reached a room that was even bigger than any of the others. From wall to wall it must have been a quarter of a mile across. The floor of this room was perfectly smooth, with hardly any dust on it. It was also completely empty, except for a small glimmer of light in the centre. As the three adventurers approached this mysterious light, they saw clearly what it was, and their mouths dropped in astonishment.

There, lying on a sumptuous bed, encircled by beautiful glass lamps which were still burning, was a girl. She seemed frozen in time, not moving even a tiny bit. Alban was struck immediately by her beauty: he had been intimate with quite a few girls before, but none of them had had such a great effect on him as this slumbering princess. She seemed to be nearly his height in length, clad in a royal gown of purple and rose, with her hands folded across her chest. Her hair was long and golden, and seemed to glow in the lamplight. Her face was young and beautiful, apparently untouched by all that had happened through the years. The prince stared at her in wonder, then turned around and saw that his companions were looking at him expectantly.

“Well?” said Turas, shrugging his shoulders. “What are you waiting for?”

Alban stared at him for a moment, then began to laugh.

“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed. “Does this not seem a bit…easy to you, at all? I mean, who’s to say she isn’t some kind of trap, an illusion or something, meant to lure us closer so that we can then be captured?”

“Well, if you don’t want her,” said Turas, taking a step forward, “I’ll be happy to give it a go…”

“Alright, alright!” said Alban, still laughing. “I was just being cautious, that’s all. After what happened to Lirdon and the others,” here his face turned serious, “I just didn’t want…never mind. Besides, if the legend is true, she’ll only awake if her true love kisses her. What are the chances that it’s one of us who gets to be so fortunate?”

He turned back towards the sleeping girl. Trembling slightly, he approached the bed and brought his face closer to hers. He was no fool: he knew very well that rewards sometimes turn out too good to be for real. But if this was a trap, then they should all have been captured, or killed, by now. Since nothing of the sort has happened, he at last decided that maybe, for once, the fairytale legend was real, and that it might have a happy ending this time. He closed his eyes and, as carefully as he could, kissed the princess’s frozen lips.

Nothing happened. He opened his eyes, but she had not awoken. From behind him he heard Turas laughing, while Shardon muttered something about ‘leaving before it’s too late’. Alban also felt like leaving, and yet…he simply had to try again. Why he felt he had to, he did not know. Maybe there was some kind of magic involved, and it was affecting him too. He leant in close, but before his lips reached hers, something happened. Something so swift and unexpected that he did not have time to even move.

The princess began to grow. Or rather, her body began to expand at an alarming rate. Within seconds the entire bed disappeared beneath her, and the lamps were knocked down and went out. Turas and Shardon only just managed to flee, before they too were crushed beneath her growing body. As for Alban, he had been holding her shoulders when the growing started, and he could only hang on as she kept getting bigger and bigger and bigger. Pretty soon, he found himself on top of her chest, clutching the fabric of her gown, and he was rising higher and higher into the air.

Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the growing stopped. Alban found it impossible to believe what he saw. The princess, who a minute ago was just under six feet in length, now measured a colossal one-hundred-and-fifty feet from head to toe. Alban was sitting on top of her right breast, and he was too dumbstruck to move a muscle. He could only watch in amazement as the giant girl came to life. She opened her eyes, then, with a gasp, sat bolt upright, sending the now-tiny prince tumbling off her breast and landing far below in her lap.

“Where – where am I?” she exclaimed, in a voice at once delicate and powerful. “Oh, of course…I…the curse…it’s gone! It’s over! My true love has found me! He’s come to rescue me! He’s…hey, where is everyone?”

“Aaaarghhh!” came a scream from directly below her. The princess looked down, and now it was her turn to be astonished. There, trying to clamber out of her lap, was a teeny, tiny, little man. He was no bigger than her thumb, and was clad from the neck downwards in light armour. He also had a sword, and was swinging it around, trying to hit whatever he could. All he managed to do, however, was tumble around hopelessly.

She tried to pick him up, but he stabbed her thumb, which hurt – a little. So she simply pinched his sword and threw it over her shoulder, before trying again. This time, she managed to grab him by his waist, holding him carefully between her thumb and forefinger. She held him right before her eyes, as he continued vainly to struggle.

“You…it – it couldn’t be you…” she stammered.

“Let…me…go!” prince Alban yelled, as loudly as he could. “You devil! You monster!”

“What? How dare you call me that?” she pinched him harder, and he cried out in pain. “Don’t you know who I am? I am princess Valerie of Vandan. And if I want to, I could crush you like an ant, you ignorant, half-witted human!”

“Crush me?” Alban scoffed, trying to sound unafraid. “Is that my reward for releasing you from your curse? If I hadn’t kissed you…”

“It was you? You? No…no, it can’t be! You’re lying! How did you even enter here, without being caught? Where are all the people who live here? My family, where are they?”

“Why don’t you put me down, then I’ll tell you!”

Valerie sighed, and did as he requested. Though she was overjoyed at being released from her sleep, she was starting to get irritated with this little human. He couldn’t have been the one who had released her. It just wasn’t possible. Besides that, she was also terribly hungry and thirsty, her head was spinning, and she really wanted to find a soft bed and lie down.

 The moment his feet touched the ground, the little man ran off like a flash. Valerie yelled at him to stop, but he just kept going. She tried to stand up and follow him, but was immediately overcome with dizziness. She sat down on the hard floor again, looking in surprise at what looked like the crushed remains of a miniature bed. And then, out of the blue, all her memories came back to her, and she immediately understood the situation she was in.