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Bootcamp

  "My father decided to send me to a 'Princess Bootcamp'." The princess sneered.

  "Oh," the dragon therapist said, frowning at her notes in confusion. "It says here you were supposed to go to a special retreat to help with manners and other 'princess' stuff."

  The princess laughed, "Yeah, none of the finishing schools he liked would take me, so he went with this boot camp instead."

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  "Princess, why do you keep calling it a boot camp? It says here it's a weeklong retreat to help with, uh, well…" the dragon stammered.

  The princess purred, "Go on."

  The dragon sighed, "For problem royals."

  The princess's grin became evil. "That's us. I organized a revolt, and we banished the 'counselors.' We turned the dining hall into a war room and used all the skills we learned." The princess held her head high with pride, "I taught a class on 'knitting combat'; it was a hit. I learned how to torture a knight with sewing needles."

  The dragon sighed as she wrote in her notebook: Do not recommend warlord yoga classes.

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