Everyone is gathered around the table for luncheon.

"Something has to be done about Gwendolyn." Cyndi frowns.

Petros agrees. "She needs to learn a lesson. She tried to separate me from my child and heir."

Gwendolyn pretends to be very busy spreading her napkin over her lap and keeps her lips pursed and eyes downcast.

"But remember, she is mother-in-law to both of us," says Rupert.

Cyndi suggests, "Maybe she could be forced to wear glass slippers for the rest of her life."

"Or, she could be confined to her room until she can spin straw into gold," laughs Tori.

"No, I'd like her stuck in the tower until she can grow her own rope," says Dora with a self satisfied smile as she strokes her hair extensions.

Charlotte laughs and gets into the spirit of the exercise. "Why don't we get lots of space frogs and she can kiss them one by one until she finds a prince."

Gwendolyn stops smoothing her napkin. "Girls, these ideas are impossible. You've had enough fun. Surely, you won't do that to your own mother. If I hadn't purchased those intergalactic tickets for the whole family, you wouldn't have found these lovely men to marry. I'm owed a debt of gratitude."

"The firm daddy worked for gave you those tickets as a death benefit. You found an excuse to leave our debts and expenses on earth behind. You've done nothing, unless his death was something you arranged." Cyndi rounded in on Gwendolyn who promptly shut her mouth and gave her best impression of an innocent look.

"I propose we remove her sleeping meds and replace them with apples." said Tori. 

"Poisoned apples?" asks Bastian with a glint in his eye.

"No, just apples," Tori smiles at him. She picks up an apple slice from the fruit platter and slips it between her lips.

Grandmother Maggie says, "Why not make her wear rags to her daughter's weddings? That might be suitable."

"No, I simply can't be seen in public looking like I'm destitute. Think how would that reflect on my daughters?" Gwendolyn looks around the table frantic to find a look of sympathy among her daughters. 

No one says anything. Gwendolyn continues, "I can live without sleep. I could live in a tower for that matter, but I cannot be seen in public wearing rags!" 

"Does that mean you're ok with kissing frogs?" Charlotte asks with a little smile.

"Believe me, child, I've kissed more than my share."

"Rags it is," Dowager Maggie proclaims.

Gwendolyn stands. "No. I forbid it."

Tori says, "Perhaps mother, you would rather wear my swan mask to my wedding?"

Dora giggles. "What fun. And you shall wear the flamingo mask to mine."

Prince Rupert joins into the fray. "Well, if rags are off the table, then I propose Dora should be in charge of her mother's outfits for the rest of her life."

"Insufferable. Dora has the worst taste ever. I refuse to be a spectacle as well as a fashion idiot."

"That's it, mother," says Dora. "Either you wear my flamingo mask to my wedding or you stay in your room."

Cyndi rests her head against King Petros' shoulder with her face upturned, "I suspect we are going to be coming up with punishments for Gwendolyn for the rest of her life."

"Well, you do have a very creative family," Petros tells her. "And I would never presume to limit your creativity."

"It's not just me, Pet. Remember this is largely your fault." Cyndi pats her belly.

"Then I happily shoulder the blame because I will never cease loving you." Petros leans over and gives Cyndi a quick kiss.

"On a serious note, think about it. Maggie's never had girls and Gwendolyn's never had boys.

"I think Dowager Maggie would be pleased with any child," Cyndy says.

"How could I deserve such ungrateful children?" Gwendolyn whines across the table. No one responds so she takes a great gulp of Chardonnay to wash down her dismay.

Petros places an arm around Cyndi and waggles his eyebrows. "Nothing would make Maggie happier than to have a horde of grandchildren running through the palace. I say we fill two needs with one deed. Our best revenge is to give Gwendolyn lots of creative grandchildren."