Under a new moon, under the bridge Brent had first met his lover for a rendezvous, then her sisters, and now hoping to receive his daughter in safety; the three trolls stepped out of the shadows of the night. Joc and Cather came first, with baby Cassiopeia in Joc’s now dainty arms and Cather decorated in a robe, covering her black silk mane that was once unruly. Still in the dark, Edwina viewed the king from a distance, hoping to catch his eye now that she was a woman, but was fated to a lifetime of dreaming.
“Give me my princess or I shall have your heads on a spike.” The king looked in the eyes of the three women, recognizing the old look of lust, and at once saw his three beloved Trolls. Dumbfounded, he took Cather in his arms, and she demanded another way. “My dear Brent, your princess for your hand in marriage.”
The three Trolls now women, as beautiful as the queen, a perfect likeness to all the women who threw themselves at his feet, saw an opportunity. “Madness!”, said the king, “I have a queen!”
“And so?” added Cather, “Your queen for me, and my two sisters as my ladies, and your princess as ours.” Brent was a prisoner, to his love, to his kingdoms, and now to Trolls.
“Or we shall return to the form God made us, the way He saw us fit, and utter our secrets to those who eat at your table.”
And so, the four plotted. One day, Queen Helen of the Broads, mother of the beautiful Cassiopeia, was found dead under that same bridge. Cather rose in power, and by her side were her two sisters, taking the names of Lady Jocelyn and Lady Edwina. It was as if one day she magically appeared, saved the kingdom of its grief, perfectly fit to be the royal consort. It was quite the story, my Dear Reader, Catherine of the Wood and the ladies in waiting who worked to amend the troubled community of the Trolls.