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It was a setting where he really should have known better, but nonetheless the prince insisted in generally referring to peasant women as baggage when he was out on his carriage rides.
It was only a matter of time before one turned out to be a witch.
After she’d cast her spell, with the usual ‘return to original form upon a kiss by a princess’ proviso, she vanished in a puff of smoke. The coachman dutifully returned to the palace.
The king and queen stared at the frog sitting on the royal tuffet.
“You’re our son?”
“Of course I’m your fucking son! Now find a goddamn princess!”
“Hmm,” the queen said.
“Hmm,” said the king.
The royal tailor got started on a little doublet. The crown jeweler produced a tiny crown. But, as the prince learned, frogs breathe through their skin. And so he reverted to nudity, and he spent his days on a tiny pillow, on a tiny throne, in the royal throne room. But, as the prince learned, frogs breathe best wet. And so he ended up spending more and more time on a tiny lily pad, in a tiny puddle, in the royal marsh, until he simply never left.
The household approved, particularly the chef, who had tired of devising fly recipes.
The prince demanded a court, so the queen issued a royal proclamation that all similarly cursed nobles would be welcomed in the marsh. The first arrival was a bewitched duke, a tad greener than the prince, who was charged with maintaining the royal puddle. Soon the marsh was populated with all sorts of rude frogs: green, red, yellow, blue. The decree’s scoped was expanded. A rich banker who’d become a salamander arrived. A trio of newts (boys who had once kicked a gypsy woman) took up residence.
In time the entire kingdom was dropping off its cursed animals, and the swamp filled with deplorables.
One toad, a baker who had left a fairy at the altar, once climbed a cattail and insulted a passing peasant lady in the hopes of getting cursed back to his human form. The peasant lady did turn out to be a witch, but she turned him into a gorgeous flame-colored butterfly.
The prince ate him.
No one, not even the queen, was particularly troubled when a copperhead got into the marsh. Casualties were high. Then the snake choked on the banker.
Nonetheless, the prince remained the heir presumptive. His older sister was resentful, but the law of succession was clear regarding the effect of frog curses.
Finding a princess was difficult. There were plenty in those days, but it was assumed whoever kissed him would become the bride, as the storybooks taught, and few were interested. For one, the kingdom’s lands were not spacious. For another, the prince was picky.
“Too fat!” said the prince. “She’s got a mole! Moles are disgusting.”
The resident mole was a blacksmith who once closed his door on an old man seeking shelter, who had turned out to be the god of thunder. Things were tense in the swamp for a few days.
“No moles,” the prince croaked from his lily pad.
“But you’re covered in warts,” the queen said.
“Hmm,” said the king.
The fat princess cried and ran from the swamp, covering her fat mole with her fat hand.
Two years passed.
Princess Rose had turned eighteen, which meant she was past her prime as far as marriageability went. She delighted in gardening, chess, and feeding the horses. She was out watering the tomatoes, a pretty bonnet protecting her fair skin, when her parents sent for her. They told her that the prince of a distant kingdom, who was a lizard or something, wanted to know what she looked like.
The royal portraitist sketched her in a natural fashion, with her ferret, Tabitha, in her lap. Her corset was tight, her long dress was of white watered silk, and her décolletage had never been so amply presented. Tabitha chucked affectionately as Rose scratched her belly.
“Is his kingdom vast, mama?” she asked, over a chess match with her mother.
“It is not without its resources,” the queen said.
“Is he kind?”
“His parents insist he was a most charming young man, before the incident.”
“And a kiss will surely cure him?”
“Of course, child. You know this, you’ve read books before.”
After the portrait was finished, another was done from behind, as the prince had requested.
The call came one day when she was riding through one of the King’s forests. The prince had approved! So she left behind her horses, and she left behind her garden, and she left behind her gold and silver chess set. She was allowed to bring her ferret.
The journey was long, through many kingdoms and duchies, through woods and dales and then down the interstate for ninety miles.
When they arrived, she found the kingdom full of charming people, even if most of them were muddy. The castle seemed to cover half of the kingdom all by itself! Servants were busily preparing for the anticipated wedding.
“It’ll probably happen,” one of the chambermaids said, “but the prince said he wants to make sure you haven’t gotten fat since he saw the portrait.”
She was received in the throne room. The queen was kind to her, telling her she was very beautiful. The king said they had heard she had had to leave her horses behind, so he presented her with a beautiful white stallion. The prince’s sister kissed her cheek, and called her “my dearest sister.”
“May I ask where the prince is?” Rose asked after a while.
“He’s in his swamp,” the queen said.
“Unless something ate him,” said the king.
“Or some woman might have stepped on him,” said the sister.
“Why a woman?” said the king.
“Or whoever,” said the sister.
“Hmm,” said the king.
“Should we go meet him?” Rose asked.
The royal family exchanged looks. The king checked his watch.
“It’s late,” said the king.
Rose noted the sunlight coming through the stained glass.
“Hmm,” she said.
Her room was in the eastern wing. It was lavishly decorated. A tapestry of a gruesome battle against the Turks faced the four-poster.
She went out riding. Her new horse was spirited and swift, and she quickly grew enamored. Her guides showed her the landmarks: a well from antiquity, the lush palace gardens, a series of limestone hills. In the distance, she saw the marsh where her betrothed resided.
On the way back, her blonde hair came loose and whipped behind her.
The next day she was introduced to the prince. They’d rolled a soggy red carpet out into the marsh. He was helping himself to a pile of dead flies as they approached.
“The Princess Rose, your highness,” the herald said and sounded a sackbut, which blew the tiny crown off of the prince’s head.
“Too loud, imbecile!” piped the prince.
“Frederick, behave. Your bride has arrived,” the queen said.
“Ah yes,” the prince said. Rose imagined he was looking at her, but it was very hard to tell. “She’ll do.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Rose said, and curtsied.
“I am sorry you have to see me in this wretched state. I was most unfairly bewitched by some peasant sorceress.”
“I have heard,” said Rose. “Was it perhaps to teach you some manner of lesson?”
“Of course it was, you twit. Something about politeness or some such.”
Rose looked about. “Shall I? Do I kiss him now? I confess I know not the protocol.”
“No, wait until the marriage day, as that will be more ceremonious,” said the prince. Although eager to regain his human form, he feared his transformation would also remove his taste for flies, which were quite delicious. He intended to eat his fill while he could.
“As you wish, my lord, though I was quite eager to see you before our nuptials.”
“Here I am, foolish girl. What does it matter how I look?”
Rose was quiet. She supposed it did not, in the end, matter.
“She doesn’t talk much,” said the prince. “Is she stupid?”
“I’m sorry,” said the queen. “The transformation has been hard on him, and he has lost his courtly manners. I am sure they will return when he is once more a man.”
The sister laughed.
In the days before the wedding, lords and ladies arrived in multitude, and courtiers filled the castle. Rose was paid such attention as she’d never known, and given gifts of sumptuous brocades and stunning cloths. The prince refused to leave his marsh until the ceremony, so she accepted gifts in his stead.
As the hour approached, her nervousness grew. It was quite natural to fear the wedding night, her nurses had taught her, but they had insisted that the act was not so terrible as it appears, and usually quickly done.
She was also uncertain of her betrothed. While she was assured by his mother and father that he would be a good and kind husband to her, her lady’s maid was much more frank.
“Quick to anger, and round, shaped like an onion. Indeed, not much of a neck. Quite froglike he was, in fact, even beforehand,” she said, and laughed, as she brushed out Rose’s hair.
She must have seen the apprehensive look in Rose’s eyes.
“But no worth worrying with it, love. We do what we must, we women.”
“Yes, I suppose,” Rose said.
“With our sexes,” she said.
“Yes, I understood your reference,” Rose said.
“Besides, there’s many a handsome knight in this kingdom.”
Rose’s eyes opened wide. “I assure you, I am most wary of temptations of the flesh!”
“Aye, my love, aye, I’ve said too much. I jest.”
Rose did not think she was jesting.
She distracted herself as best she could, by exploring the gardens, and playing chess with her future sister-in-law.
“You are far better than I, dear sister!” Rose said, examining the board and wrinkling her brow.
“I am older than you. I’ve played more. That is all.”
“As you say, I’m sure.”
“May I be frank?”
“I hope you shall always be so.”
She took a sip of her tea. “I have been quite horrified to meet you. I had hoped you would be an aged, ugly crone. Such as befits my wretched brother. But now we have met, and you are a creature of beauty and youth, and it saddens me that these things will be wasted on someone as unworthy as him.”
Rose did not know what to say. She finally replied, “I am sorry that my arrival has saddened you so.”
The sister put down her cup. “I thought perhaps his time as an anuran would have humbled him. It has not. You will note I have never married. I have had suitors.”
“I should be shocked were it not so!”
“Like, lots.”
“I should be shocked were it not so!”
“But none worthy.” She moved a bishop across the board.
Rose considered the pieces carefully. “Perhaps if I spend more time with him, we will find we are better suited to each other than you know. And then, sister, you might not be so sad.”
“That hope has the advantage of being, strictly speaking, logically possible. If you go, bring him a snack. There are slugs in the courtyard.”
Later, the sister added, “You might bring the ferret as well. It may devour my brother whole.”
Rose was astonished.
“I jest,” the sister said.
The humor here was most peculiar.
The king and queen thought visiting the marsh unnecessary, as spending time with their son had never increased anyone’s love of him. It had not increased their love of him. So the eve of her wedding, Rose told her maids she would undress herself for bed and dismissed them for the night. She stole carefully out of the castle. She saddled her horse and rode under the moon.
The frogs were croaking in the marsh.
They were very bad at it.
“Frederick?” she called.
“O’er here, my love,” he called.
She knelt. “I was hoping we could talk.”
“ ‘Twould be a lot easier to talk were I a man again.”
“Tomorrow will be here soon, my beloved.”
“Fuck that. Barmiest idea I’ve e’er had. Waiting to kiss a pretty gal like ye, that is.”
His language was quite un-princelike.
“Well?” he croaked.
“Well, what?”
“Do I get my kiss or what?”
“Are you sure that’s quite what you want?”
“Kind of plonker do ye take me for? How often do ye think princesses come by here? Quick, afore the other frogs hear and ye end up spending the whole night snoggin’.”
She picked up the frog and kissed it.
Her hands splashed into the water under a tremendous weight. She cried out.
There was a large naked man in her arms.
And her hand was trapped under his rear end.
He felt his chest. “Fuck me, it worked!”
He jumped up, cradled her in his arms, and kissed her in a way that she had never been kissed before. His tongue was very involved. Surprisingly involved.
“Thank ye!” he said.
“I must say,” she said, “I expected you to be much more round.”
“Aye? Guess that all snail diet did me good.”
She looked away. “I apologize, my lord, I would have brought a robe if I had anticipated this.”
“Why, something I should be ashamed of?”
“No! Not at all."
She was being honest. He was the most well-formed man she’d ever seen. Perhaps all men look so without their clothes? She had seen very few.
“Well then, I’ll just stay like this. Should we try that kiss again?”
“My lord, it’s indecent! Let us away to the castle. Your family will be desperate to see you.”
“Ah, they can wait. Bunch of cunts. Much more important I spend more time with my blushing bride ‘ere the ceremony, aye? That’s why you came out here, right?”
“Yes, that’s true. But you are…”
He looked down. “Oh, that. Look, if we’re goin’ to be married, you should probably get used to it.”
“My lord…”
“And stop callin’ me that. Just ‘Fred.’ ”
“Fred, might we cover you with my coat?”
“Sure,” he said, “But first, look at this.”
He was holding himself.
“Aye, I know what you’re thinking,” he said, moving closer. “And worry not, my dove. ‘Twill be tight, but ‘twill fit. More ‘n’ likely.”
“I feel faint.”
“I’ve been a frog for awhile, but I think I remember how to carry a faintin’ gal.”
“No, that’s not necessary. Disturbing, in fact. Shall we return?”
“How ‘bout I carry you anyway? Come on, it’s filthy in this fuckin' puddle. I know, I slept here for a year. In that jack-in-the-pulpit.”
He picked her up.
“Wait, do you want your little crown?” she said, gazing up at him.
“And what am I gonna use it for? My dick? Let’s go.”
“You are most unusual for royalty.”
They rode back together, him pressed against her back. Quite a lot of him, in fact.
He was most insistent in accompanying Rose back to her chambers.
She explained that he clearly had forgotten royal etiquette during his period as an amphibian, for it was quite improper for a man to enter the chamber of a virgin prior to marriage.
“Why’s that?” said the prince.
“Well, though I’ve never thought about it, it would make her seem a lady of loose morals.”
“My dove, you know that the number of nights ye and I shall be together will ultimately be limited by our inevitable deaths. And, as we’ll love each other terribly, is it any sin to try to add one more night to this number? And you wanted to spend more time together anyway. Aye?”
“Frederick, you shock me. I’d have a moment to think.”
“Aye, sure, my love. I’ll sit on the bed while you do so. Oy! Is that a ferret?”
“But you are entirely without clothes, Frederick!”
“Aye, right ye are. I might get a chill.” He slid himself under the bedding.
Rose blushed angrily.
“You wouldn’t have me catch ill, milady?”
“No, no, I would not want that. Please take your time to warm. I shall wait in the hall.”
“This your chessboard?”
“Why, yes, it was a gift from your second cousin, I believe.”
“That cunt. I haven’t been able to play for a year. Perhaps a game’ll restore my mind.”
“Hmm,” Rose said.
His skill surprised her, especially as no one had mentioned the prince had any fondness for the game. Not even his sister.
She won.
She suggested it was now time for him to return to his chambers.
“I shall go,” he said, “but this hardly seems fair. You’ve seen all my secrets, but I’ve not seen a whit of yours.”
“I tried to cover you! You refused!”
“Nonetheless, you’ve seen my body, and found it pleasing. And yet I am to enter into marriage ignorant of yours.”
“I said not a word about what I thought of your… body.”
“I still know your opinion. Come now, the wedding bed has no secrets. We shall often be together suchlike.”
“But we are not married.”
“You’ve cured my curse and captured my heart. We’re married in soul, my love.”
Rose stared. “And you shall leave afterwards?”
“Of course.”
She carefully removed her clothing, facing the tapestry with the gruesome battle against the Turks.
“Afraid to turn around, my dearest heart?”
“No.” She turned around. He appraised her.
She met his eyes, but found her attention drawn downward. He was undergoing a most fascinating metamorphosis.
“You’ve not seen one?” he said.
“I have not seen one like that.”
“Like what?”
“Standing of its own accord like that.”
“Ah,” he said, taking hold of himself. “ ‘Twill not work otherwise. Come, I’ll show ye.”
“Frederick! You said clearly you would go.”
“Well, I can’t very well go without knowing if we fit. What kind of sense would that make?”
“Fit?”
“Surely it’s important that our bodies concord well.”
“Is there some danger they will not?”
“Aye. Entire kingdoms have come to naught for want of a proper fit.”
She was unconvinced.
“It’s a simple enough test,” said the prince.
She found herself lying face up on the bed.
“Frederick!” she cried. “Is your finger inside of me?”
“Aye.”
“Whatever for?”
“To get you wet enough, of course. ‘Tis beneficial, for the eventual act.”
“I hardly see how putting a finger inside of me will accomplish that.”
“If ye’d shut yer trap for a few moments, my heart, I’ll demonstrate.”
She found her breathing quite increased.
“Not entirely unpleasant, aye?”
“I am forming my opinion.”
“See?” He guided her hand into herself.
“You… appear to be correct. But how did you know this about my body?”
He did not say.
“Frederick!” she cried. “Did you put another finger inside of me?”
“Aye, my love. If it’s unpleasant, I’ll stop.”
"I am forming my opinion."
Her heart began to beat rather frighteningly fast.
“Frederick,” she cried. “Have you placed a third finger inside of me?”
“You needn’t stare at the ceiling the entire time, my love.”
She looked forward.
“Frederick! That’s not your finger at all!”
She glared, but he seemed quite indifferent.
“Well, how is the fit?” she finally said.
“Let us see, my love.” He kissed her.
The bed began to move.
“We seem to be superbly suited,” said the prince. His laugh was charming.
“I agree.”
The bed continued to move.
“Frederick?” asked Rose.
“Yes, my dove?”
“Since we’ve established suitability, might it not be time for us to part, for the evening?”
“Aye, I suppose.”
The bed continued to move.
“Frederick, we still seem to be in motion.”
“Aye, my love.”
The bed continued to move.
“Frederick?”
Her heart began to beat to burst her chest.
“Frederick!” she called. “Frederick! Frederick!”
“Rose?”
“Frederick!”
The bed stopped moving.
“Oh, Frederick, my one and true love.”
“Fred, my dove. Call me Fred.”
“Fred.”
“And what’s this lady’s name?”
“That is Tabitha.” She scratched the ferret's belly.
The prince and princess found themselves in a tangle of limbs.
“Fred, may I tell you something?”
“Aye, doll, any time.”
“I was quite nervous about many things to occur tomorrow, and now I find myself completely at ease regarding all of them.”
“Yeah, gettin’ fucked’ll cure all that ails you. Sorry I was such a doss cunt while I was all froggified.”
“It’s understandable.”
“Quite the wanker, I was.”
“Yes, that’s a fair description.”
“A fuckwit.”
“Yes! I know not the word, but it seems marvelously apposite.”
The princess’s hands were occupied.
“Does it always… enlarge so?” she said.
“Aye.”
“But then it returns to its original size? After?”
“Aye,” he said.
She held it in much the same way she'd held Tabitha. “It’s growing again!”
“I’ll be fucked. Fastest it’s ever done that.”
“Fred,” said Rose, “if we’ve done it once, can there be any harm in doing it again?”
“I suppose not,” said the prince.
The princess found herself facedown.
“Fred! I am not a horse.”
“It’s only good anatomical sense, my love.” He slapped both of her flanks. “See how they absorb the shock.”
This seemed practical.
The bed began to move.
Later, she said, “What harm could there be in a third time?”
The prince laughed.
“Frederick! What are you doing to me?”
“I think they call it the ‘reverse cowgirl.’ But I can stop.”
“Don’t stop,” she said.
“Don’t stop,” she repeated.
“I’m not stopping,” he said.
“Fred! What possible purpose could your finger serve there?”
“Shall I stop?” he said.
“Don’t stop,” she said.
“Don’t stop,” she repeated.
Later, she said, “Is there anything else to do?”
Later, she said, “Oh!”
Later, she said, “Is there anything else to do?”
Later, she said, “Oh! Oh! Oh!”
Later, he said, “I’m fucking drained, you saucy wench. Suck or fuck, you’ll not get another drop out of me.”
Later, this turned out to be untrue.
“Do not lie to me again,” said Rose, beatific.
“Aye, about that…” said the prince.
But Rose was already asleep.
“And so, I kissed the prince, and here he stands before you,” said the Princess Rose.
“Hmm,” said the king and queen.
“This individual seems shockingly more handsome than my brother ever was,” said the sister.
“Yes,” Rose said, “the diet has agreed with him, he reports.”
“He is a foot and a half taller than my son ever was,” said the queen.
“Well, surely…” Rose looked at her betrothed. “Surely, he could’ve kept growing while transformed.”
“He is certainly less annoying than my son ever was,” said the king.
“Well, he’s yet to say a word,” the sister said.
“Yes,” said the king. “Marvelous improvement. Well, shall we start the wedding?”
“This is not the prince,” said the sister.
“No, this is not the prince,” said the queen.
“No, I fear this is not the prince,” said the king.
“How can you be sure this is not the prince?” said Rose.
“Because I am the prince!” said the prince. He hopped forward from the other end of the throne room. “Did I not say she was stupid?”
“Yes,” sighed the sister. “That is the prince.”
“Yes,” the queen sighed.
“Yes,” sighed the king.
“A right cunt, too,” said the man who was evidently not the prince.
“Yes,” said the king.
“Yes,” the queen said.
“Yes,” said the sister. “That is the prince.”
“Course I’m the fucking prince,” said the prince.
“The fucking prince, your highnesses,” said the herald and sounded the sackbut. The prince’s tiny crown went flying.
“Well, shall we start the wedding?” asked the king.
“I should be going,” said the man who was evidently not the prince.
“Wait, you!” croaked the prince. “I’d have vengeance on the man who has ruined my bride!”
“Ruined?” said the king.
“Oh dear,” the queen said.
“Jolly good show, sister,” said the sister. She looked approvingly at the man who was evidently not the prince.
“I feel faint,” said Rose. The man who was evidently not the prince caught her. “But who is this?” she said.
“In retrospect,” the queen said, “he looks much like Stephan, one of the grooms. The one who was cursed after he shot that unicorn.”
“You know,” said the king, “he’s much the spitting image of Stephan, the groom who shot that unicorn that one time.”
“I remember with fondness watching Stephan do his work. He was the groom who shot that unicorn,” said the sister.
“I’m Stephan,” said Stephan, who’d shot that unicorn. “I didn’t know it was a unicorn at the time. And I’ll be honest, I did deceive, though ‘twas not my original intention. I wanted only to be human again, and so I imitated that fuckwit. But when I saw ye, my dove, though I knew full well it’d lead to my death, I was willing to pay that price for but one night with ye. I regret not a thing, and offer my neck to the hangman willingly.”
“Oh Frederick,” sighed Rose.
“Call me Fred, my dove,” said Stephan.
“I’m Fred!” said Frederick, “Call him something else!”
“Oh Stephan,” sighed Rose.
Stephan held her.
“I am irate!” croaked the prince. “A mere groom has deflowered my bride using chicanery!”
“I’d watch yer mouth, ye little wart,” said Stephan, who was a mere groom.
The prince was hopping mad. “Have the guards take that boy out and slice him in four! No, five! And bring me a fly soufflé and a bisque à la mouche.”
“Frederick,” said the queen, “it may be time to try real food again.”
“Now, wait,” said Rose, counting her darling fingers, “the first time may have been somewhat deceptive. But the second time, and the third time, and the fourth time, and the fifth time, it was my idea.”
“Entirely,” said the groom.
“Jolly good show, sister,” said the sister. She looked approvingly at the groom.
“That is immaterial!” said the prince, as he ate his soufflé. “I’ll not be cuckolded by a commoner. Execute the groom!”
“Fuck,” said the groom.
“Oh, there was a sixth time, too, now that I think about it,” said Rose.
“Jolly good show, sister,” said the sister, and left the room, quite inconspicuously.
“Cut him in six!” croaked the prince.
The guards led the groom out at spear point.
“Now wait a moment!” Rose said. “I do think I should have a bit of say in all this.”
“Ah, the baggage speaks,” said the prince, moving on to his soup.
“I would hate to be the cause of any harm this morning, especially on the day of my wedding. But as I see it, I am the only one here who can return the prince to his form. And this I refuse to do until I am assured Stephan may freely leave.”
“All seems very reasonable,” said the king.
“You’ll marry this disgusting creature?” said the queen.
The prince was slurping.
“If Stephan may go free,” said Rose.
“Frederick, what do you say to this?” said the queen.
“Why aren’t there more flies in my soup?” said the prince.
“Frederick!” said the queen.
“Oh,” said the prince, “Yeah, sure, she’ll do. Leave the boy in one piece, I suppose.”
“My dove,” Stephan said, “don’t do this. I’ll die a happy man, and all the happier knowing you’re free from that little wanker.”
“Stephan,” Rose said, drawing close to him. “I shall treasure the memory of you every day of my life. Were you to die, I would spend my every moment in a dark cloud, until I should pass from this world and have some hope of seeing you again. Please, do not take my joy from me. Let me save you.”
Stephan did not speak for a time, then took a long bow. “Aye, my love.” And he left.
“Well, shall we start the wedding?” asked the king.
Tabitha picked up the prince with her front paws, ripped him into two pieces while he screamed, then swallowed them both.
“Hmm,” said the king. “I suppose not.”
A fierce commotion occurred in the hall, and suddenly Stephan came riding Rose’s great white stallion into the throne room.
“My dove,” he yelled, “I’ve returned for you! Don’t marry that worm!”
He looked around.
“Where is that worm?” he said.
Rose looked at her ferret, who was licking her claws. “Tabitha has devoured him whole.”
“Oh,” said the groom.
“Which is strange,” Rose said, “because I’m quite sure I left Tabitha locked in my room.”
“Very odd,” said the sister, who had quite inconspicuously reappeared.
“Oh,” said the groom, leading the horse in a circle. “Well, Rose, I know I’ve deceived ye, and I am sore sorry, but I do swear that henceforth I shall cherish ye as—”
“Stephan,” said Rose.
“Yes?”
“That’s not necessary,” said Rose. “I’ve decided to come with you.”
“Jolly good show,” said the sister. She looked approvingly at the man who would evidently be marrying the woman who evidently would not be marrying her brother.
“Dear sister,” said Rose, taking the sister’s hand. “Oh, but we shall not be sisters, it seems! Still, I shall always think of you as such. I thank you for your kindness and council. You will watch Tabitha for me?”
“I shall have her knighted,” said the sister.
They kissed.
“Well, then, shall we be off?” said Rose.
Stephan lifted her into the saddle. They stormed down the hall and out into the gardens, and past the well from antiquity, and past the royal marsh, and over the limestone hills. Rose’s hair came loose and whipped wildly behind her, and did so until they came to a stop in another kingdom entirely.
“Hmm,” said the king.
“Well,” the queen said, “I suppose the banquet’s already prepared.”
“Well, shall we start the banquet?” asked the king.
“Yes,” said the sister, or—as we should now refer to her—the heiress presumptive.
There was a humble cottage in a faraway land where lived a man and his wife. There were horses in the stable. There were tomatoes in the garden. There was a chess set made of wood and antler.
There were twelve children sleeping in twelve beds.
The man and his wife lay in their bed, in a tangle of limbs.
Later, she said, “Surely, there can’t be anything left to do?”
“No, my dove, no. We’ve done it all.”
“What about this?” she said.
“Rose!” he said.
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