I'll Think of a Catchy Title Later

For pride month, River challenged me to re-write a fairy tale to incorporate LGBTQ et al. themes. This story is the result.  

“What on earth is that racket?” said Queen Marianna, with equal parts scorn and brown gravy dripping from her mouth.  As a globule of the latter fell onto her plate, she self-consciously dabbed at her face with a napkin. 

Voices were talking over one another in the hallway, the sound growing gradually louder. 

“I don’t know,” King Grisham said, frowning, “but this is our dinner-time, and they can wait until we’re through.  Jessop?” This last word he addressed to the servant who stood at the ready.  

“Yes, sire.” 

“Go see what all that fuss is about.  And Luna, finish your plate, so you can get started on the dishes.” 

Princess Luna sighed mightily, her forearms on the table, head hunched over the last few bites of her food.  

“I don’t WANT to do the dishes, father.  Why don’t we have a maid to do them instead?  We used to have a maid…” 

The king and queen exchanged a meaningful look. 

“Luna, dear, we talked about this,” said the queen.  “We are tightening our belts this season, and everyone has to pitch in.”

“And you promised you would do the dishes tonight.” the king said, with finality.  

With a mighty crash, the wooden doors flung open, and Jessop returned, panting. 

“Sire, it’s a meteor shower!  The sky is full of shooting stars!”

Luna jumped up from her chair. “Father! Can I go see it?!”

The king furrowed his brow and thought for a moment. 

“You need to do the dishes first. When you’re through, then you can go outside and watch.”

“But, sire, we don’t know how long-“ Jessop started. 

A dangerous, direct look from the king stopped him cold.

“A promise made is a promise kept, Luna. Some falling space rocks don’t change that,” said the king. 

“It’s just not….it’s not fair!” said Luna, stomping off to the kitchen.  She slammed the door behind her as she left, causing both king and queen to stiffen and wince. 

“You were a little harsh, dear,” said Marianna.

“Perhaps,” said King Grisham, “but she needs to learn responsibility.  She only got out of her chores yesterday by promising to do them today.  We can’t let her become spoiled.” 

“But she’s only a child,” Marianna said, gently. 

The king sighed.  “If only that were so!  She’s fifteen. Far too old for these make believe games.  Most young women her age are learning to tend to the household, choosing dresses, learning to dance.  I worry about Luna.” 

“She’s just a bit of a tomboy.  There’s no harm in that.” 

King Grisham chuckled.  “A tomboy? Yesterday, she was pretending to be a knight saving a maiden in distress.  I think she’s just confused.” 

“She’ll grow out of it,” said the queen.  “I certainly did.” She gave the king a flirtatious smile.  

“You did all right for yourself, I suppose,” the king said.  

“Well, right now, I am going to see about this meteor shower.  Would you like to join me?” 

“I have some things to attend to, my dearest,” said King Grisham.  “Enjoy the show.”

—

Luna sat astride an impossibly high tree branch, her legs dangling, her concentration focused on a small patch of dirt just below her.  She wore simple shorts; her legs and feet were bare. Muttering aloud, she slowly cocked her hand behind her head, and then swung it forward, propelling a smooth rock at high velocity.  It impacted the dirt precisely on target, a plume of dusty fallout rising.  

“Right between the eyes!  The ogre staggers backwards.  His eyes get wide. And then…he falls!” 

She looked around.  Nobody was in sight.  To her left, she saw the path back towards the castle, the ground knotted with bark-covered tree roots.  To her right, the river shallows, which began just a few feet from the base of the tree. The water was quiet; the only sound was the hum of insects, and the few distant voices of those still outside after the now-abated meteor shower.  

“All at once, a huge roar, and then Sir Luna sees…the dragon!”  She bared her teeth, pushing air and voice through them to simulate the malevolent growl of the great beast.  

Luna dropped her voice to a deep tenor.  “You’ll never save the maiden! Guards!” 

She reached into her pouch and drew two more stones, which she swiftly threw, one to each side of the original impact.  

“What is this magic?  The spears bounce right off!” 

Deep tenor again.  “Hahaha, you fool! I am protected with a deep magic.  You cannot defeat me or my servants. Surrender, and I will give you a swift death.” 

“Never!”  Luna reached back into the pouch and drew a golden orb.  “Behold! I have my own, more powerful magic!”  

She thrust the orb forward and back, forward and back, aiming each thrust in the direction of her failed missiles.  

“Pachoo!  The dark guards are fallen!  And you’re next.”  

She raised the orb over her head, imagining the terrified dragon’s look.  

“Wait, Sir Luna, don’t hurt me!  I’ll return the maiden to safety.” 

“And what of your hoard?  Will you give back everything you stole from the village?” 

She snarled her voice.  “Never! You will never take my gold!” 

“You asked for it.”  She pulled the orb back dramatically.  As she did, a moth alit onto her elbow, giving Luna such a fright that she spasmed slightly, the orb slipping from her grasp.  With horror, she watched as it fell, leaves exploding off of their branches as it passed. It hit a low-hanging branch, and Luna watched helplessly as it rolled down the right side of the tree, into the river.  

For a moment, she sat in stunned silence, and then bounded down the tree, letting the twigs and bark abrade her legs and face.  When she reached the ground, she ran to the water’s edge, and peered down into the darkness, seeing nothing.  

“Oh…..shit!” she exclaimed, emphasizing each harsh letter of the curse.  

“What did you lose?” said a small, tinny voice.  Luna looked around quickly, but saw no one.  

“Hello?” she said.  

“I said, what did you lose?” 

“Where are you?  Come where I can see you!” 

“Don’t be frightened.”  The voice was very close now.  Luna felt fear rising from her lower back, through her chest, and coming to rest in her collarbone.  “Turn around. I’m sitting on the lowest branch.”

Luna turned, but nobody was sitting on the bough.  She saw only twisted bark, a line of tree ants, and a small frog, that seemed to be looking directly at her. 

“Don’t be frightened,” the frog said.  

Luna gasped, taking a big step back and nearly falling into the water. She regained her footing, mouth agape. 

“How are you- are you talking?!” 

“I am,” said the frog. 

“But that’s impossible!” 

The frog took a small hop forward on the branch, and Luna flinched.  The frog’s voice was enthusiastic. “Dragons are impossible. Magical stones that can slay demons are impossible.  Now what are talking frogs, next to those things?” 

Luna shook her head rapidly from side to side, trying to clear her head.  “You…were listening to me?” 

The frog nodded.  “The whole time.” 

“I can’t believe this!  First, I miss the meteor shower.  Then, I lose my golden orb. Now, a…FROG… is talking to me, and snooping on me when I think I’m alone.  This is too much.”  

She dropped to the ground and started to cry. 

The frog hopped off the branch and came down next to her.  “Maybe I can help you. What if I go and get your orb back?” 

Luna sniffed loudly.  “You can’t. It fell in the river.” 

“Ah, but I can.  You said it’s gold, right?” 

Luna nodded. 

“If it’s gold, then it sank right to the bottom.  It’s not too deep here. I could get it for you.” 

Through teary eyes, Luna looked at the frog.  “You’d do that for me?” 

The corner of the frog’s mouth turned up.  “For a price.” 

“I don’t have any money,” said Luna. 

“I don’t want money.  I want you to break my curse.” 

“Your…curse?” 

“Yes.” 

“What’s the curse?”  

“Well,” the frog pressed his mouth together broadly.  “I can’t tell you that. It’s part of the curse.” 

The princess sat up, wrapping her hands around her knees.  “Well, then, how am I supposed to break it?” 

The frog audibly sighed.  “I can’t tell you that either.  But if you let me stay with you, just for a little while, I think you’ll figure it out.” 

Luna scrunched her forehead and thought for a moment.  “If I say yes, you’ll get me back my golden orb?” 

“I will!” said the Frog. 

“Okay, then.” 

“You promise?” 

“I promise,” said Luna. 

At once, the frog hopped to the water’s edge and dived in, disappearing under the black water.  Luna sat, watching for any sign of its return.  

She waited. 

And waited. 

And waited some more.  At last, despondent that the talking frog would never return, she stood up, brushed the leaves and dirt off her clothing, and started back for the castle.  

She had gone just a few steps when she heard a splash, followed by a very faint, high-pitched panting.  

“You found it!” said Luna, rushing towards the golden ball.  She grabbed the orb, kissed it, and started back for the castle. 

“Hey, wait!” the frog gasped.  “You…you promised to help!” 

But Luna was already gone, running and skipping her way back home.  

—

It was the galloping of leather-shoed feet on the stone floor, rather than the thunderous banging of the doors that immediately followed it, that woke King Grisham.  

“Sire!  Sire! You must come!  The guards, sire! They have caught something fantastical.  Sire, a talking frog!” the guard spoke so quickly and nervously he stammered. 

“Wait, slow down.  A talking frog?” the King said, drawing out the last word as though it was foreign and unwelcome.  

The guard nodded enthusiastically.  “Yes, sire!” 

“And it has been captured?” 

“Yes, sire.” 

King Grisham cocked his head to the side slowly.  “In that case, why did you wake me up at this unspeakable pre-dawn hour?” 

The guard’s enthusiasm transformed, first into fright, and then into defiance. 

“Sire, there’s more.  The frog…it’s talking like a person, like it knows things, sire.  It says it knows your daughter.” 

“My daughter?” said the King.  “What did it say about my daughter?” 

“Sire, I’d sooner not say, sire.  I think it’s better you hear it from him.  Sire.”

King Grisham elevated his chin.  “Thank you for letting me know your preference.  Now, tell me precisely what the frog said about Princess Luna.” 

The guard looked confused, and then at his feet.  “It said she made a promise, sire, and that she’s broken it and run away.” 

The King considered a moment, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth.  “Okay. Have her woken and brought down. Have the frog waiting for us in the throne room.  I will be down presently.” 

As the door closed behind the departing guard, King Grisham turned around to see his wife, her body wrapped up in a large, fluffy robe, standing attentively by the bed.  

“It’s a good thing Luna wasn’t here to hear you call it the throne room,” said Queen Marianna.  “You just know she would make some comment about there being no throne, the servant would giggle, and you would be forced to discipline the servant for the insult.” 

“They’re guards, not servants,” said King Grisham, rubbing his temples.  “We don’t have servants for the same reason we sold the throne.”  

“Money, yes, always money.  I thought you were going to ask the wealthier lords for a more substantial…tribute.” 

“I have,” said the King.  “Duke Leonid has been begging off a meeting for weeks.  I think he knows the shape of the conversation. Duke Broadstone and Lady Elena plead poverty, and Sir Roget gave something, but not enough to make a real difference.” 

“I’m sure something will come through.  It always has before,” said the Queen, smiling brightly. 

“I do hope you’re right,” said the King, pulling on the same shirt he had worn the day before.  “I guess I had better go see to this talking frog. I’ll be up shortly, dear.” 

“Are you kidding?  A talking frog? I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” said the Queen.  

King Grisham considered protesting, then thought better of it.  Now dressed, he marched out of the bedroom and towards the throne room, Queen Marianne following close behind.  

If the King was expecting to see just the frog, his guards, and his daughter, he was mistaken.  A talking frog created a stir, and not one easily contained. It was just as well the throne had been sold: it would not fit in the room this evening, so full it was of the curious residents, most dressed in their sleepwear.  

“Where is this frog?” said the King. 

The crowd parted, and a guard gestured towards a small bird cage. 

“‘E stopped talking, sire.  Before, ‘e was, but then it got to be crowded and ‘e just stopped.  I tried shaking the cage and poking at ‘im, but ‘e’s not so much as made a ribbit, sire.” 

The King grimmaced at the reference to shaking and poking, but nodded as he gestured the guard away with a wave of his hand.  

The crowd was silent, kept back a small distance by the guards.  King Grisham bent down and peered into the cage. 

“So, you can talk, then?” 

The frog met his eyes intelligently, and moved its head  slowly up and down. 

The king returned the slow nod.  “Show me,” he said, softly. 

“Yes, your majesty,” the frog articulated precisely.

An involuntary shudder passed over the king.  He stood to his full height, and turned around. 

“Guards, send these people home.  This is under control, and we will still be here to discuss tomorrow.”  

The chamber resonated with the sounds of footfalls, muttering, and the clanking of metal on stone as the crowd migrated towards the exit, and then dissipated.  At last, the large wooden doors thudded shut, leaving in the throne room only the King, the Queen, and the caged frog. 

“Tell me what has happened,” the King said to the frog.  “Why can you speak, and what is this business with my daughter?”

The frog hopped forward and rose on its hind legs, resting its front legs on the bars of the bird cage, so as to address the king bipedally.  

“Your majesty,” it said, its voice proper, “I am afflicted by a curse.  I met the princess by the river, and she promised to help me break the curse if I did her a service.  I did the service, but then she ran away into the castle.”

The king nodded.  “What is the curse, then, and what do you need in order to break it?” 

“I can’t say, your majesty.  That’s a part of it, I’m afraid.”

“Hmm…” said the King.  “Did you used to be human, then?” 

The frog looked pained.  “I cannot speak about the nature of the curse, your majesty.” 

Queen Marianna came up from behind.  “Did you used to be unable to speak?” she said. 

“No, I have always been able to speak.” 

“A human, then,” she said to the King, and stepped back, as though satisfied.  

At that moment, the door pushed open and Luna entered, looking sleepy but trepidatious.  

“Luna, do you know this frog?” said the King. 

She started to shake her head in denial, but caught a stern look from her mother.  “Yes, I mean, I ran into him last night.” 

“It says that you promised to help, and then ran away.” 

“That’s not true!” Luna yelled.  “I never made a promise.” 

“It says that he did a favor for you, and you promised to help in exchange.  Did that happen?” said the King.  

“No!  We didn’t have a conversation.  I was down by the water, minding my own business, and this frog started talking to me.  I thought it was crazy, and I ran away.” 

“That’s a lie!” said the frog.  

Queen Marianne gasped.  The King turned to the frog, his face hardened. 

“You would accuse the princess of lying?” he said.  “You had better be able to back that claim up, or you will be punished for saying it.” 

“She had a golden ball, that she was playing with in a tree,” said the frog.  “She dropped it into the water, and I dove down to get it. That’s the only reason she agreed to help me.” 

Queen Marianne turned to her daughter.  “How do you explain that?” she said. 

“It’s not true,” said Luna.  “I didn’t even have my gold orb with me. It was in my room.” 

“In that case, how would the frog know you have one?” said King Grisham. 

“I, uh-” Princess Luna looked from the King to the Queen to the frog.  

“Did you lie?” said the king. 

“Yes,” Luna whispered, looking at the floor.  

“Return to your room and go to sleep.  We will discuss this in the morning.” 

Luna scurried out of the room. 

“As for you,” the King said to the frog, “I apologize for my daughter’s conduct.  We will give you a room here, of course, and a guard to keep the curious at bay.”

“May I be let out of the cage, your majesty?” said the frog. 

“Of course,” said the King.  “But please, stay with us. I will endeavor to help my daughter keep her promise to you.”

The frog bowed.  “Thank you, your majesty.” 

—

“What sort of curse turns one into a frog?” the King said.  It was mid-morning, and he and Marianna had finally given up on going back to sleep.  They were making a slow rise of things, gradually assuming their daytime dress in between yawns and moments of repose.  

“Two kinds, that I know of,” said the Queen.  “It could be witchcraft, it could be a hex. I don’t think a haunting, that wouldn’t persist within our castle.” 

“Remind me the difference?” 

“Witchcraft is done on purpose, by a witch.  A hex is tied to an object or a place. If our guest encountered somewhere or something it was not supposed to encounter, it could have been cursed that way.” 

“It knows it can’t speak of it: that probably means a witch, since it must have been told,” said the King. 

“Not necessarily,” the Queen said.  “It may have figured it out when it tried to talk about it, and found that it could not.” 

The king nodded.  “I suppose that’s true.  How many witches do we have in our lands?” 

“Capable of this type of curse?  Oh, five maybe? But who is to say it happened near here?  It could have been anyone.” 

“Still, it is worth the inquiry.  Can you arrange it?” 

“Of course,” said Queen Marianne.  “There is one more thing to consider,” she added.   

“Oh?” 

“A talking frog is quite a rare thing,” said the Queen.  “Sometimes, rare things can be sold for quite…high returns.” 

“Are you suggesting selling the frog?” said King Grisham. 

“Oh, not at all,” she said, “what you do with the frog is your affair.  I just thought it prudent to consider that, among your options, you could conceivably find a person willing to take the frog off of your hands for a very considerable amount of money.  Enough, perhaps, to keep us afloat for many months to come.” 

“Our situation is not as desperate as all that,” said the King. 

“It is,” Queen Marianna said.  “Just today, the guards gave their notice.  If they are not paid within a fortnight, they shall leave.  The cook will be right behind them. We must consider all our options”  

The king was silent a long moment.  “It won’t do to compromise our values,” he said.  “Luna promised the frog assistance. We promised it hospitality.  To turn around and sell it, and to one likely to exploit it for its farcical value, is wrong.” 

“Your values may lead to our household’s collapse,” said Marianna, urgently.  

The King had no response, and was gladdened when a sharp knock at the door interrupted the conversation.  It was Jessop. 

“Sire,” said Jessop, “Duke Leonid has come. He sends his apologies for his delayed message, and asks if you have time to see him now.” 

King Grisham smiled and turned to his wife.  “See? Things will turn around: We already feel them turning.”  He turned back to Jessop. “Tell him we shall be down shortly, and see him into the den.” 

Jessop nodded and set off.  

“I do hope my suggestion did not give offense,” said Queen Marianna.  

“We shall not speak of it again.  Now, we must go and see to our financial health!” said the King. 

Duke Leonid was still standing when the King entered his den, and the monarch approached him warmly.  

“Duke!  You’ve come at last,” said the King. 

“Yes, about that, I am so sorry for the delay.  I meant to respond, but time got away from me, and…well, I’m sorry, sire.” 

King Grisham smiled indulgently.  “We are sure you came as soon as you could, Duke.”

“The truth, your majesty,” said the Duke, shifting his weight uneasily, “is that I have been distracted this past week.  My son is missing.”

“Was he kidnapped?” the king said, his eyes large. 

“I…don’t think so.  The truth is, sire, he…may have run away.” 

“Tell us what happened.  Perhaps we can help.” 

“Well sire,” said the duke, “Alex is a…special boy.  Always very shy, and lately, very troubled. I fear I left him far too much in the care of his mother, as a young child.  Lately, he has been despondent, and I learned he had been seeking out the services of a witch.” 

King Grisham started.  “A witch? What could a son of yours, a son who wants for nothing, need of a witch?” 

The duke could not maintain eye contact as he responded.  “I think he had some…rather unusual ideas. About magic, naturally, and special powers.  I forbade him from going to the witch, of course, but he sneaked out despite my instructions, and has been gone ever since.” 

“Could he have come to some harm from the witch?”   

“Anything is possible, your majesty,” said the duke.  “The truth is, I have come to ask your assistance.” 

“Well, the witches in this region will receive no safe haven from us,” said the king.  “Tell me where we can find this witch, and we will take care of the problem.” 

“I fear it has gone beyond that, sire,” the duke said.  “I have had her hut watched for several days, and there is no sign of Alex.  I fear he may have found what he was looking for, and absconded.” 

“What type of magic was he seeking?” the king said. 

“Transformation, your majesty,” said the duke, looking once more around the room, at the ceiling, the floor, in the direction of everything but the king.  

“What type of transformation?” 

“I’m not sure, your highness.  He just…wanted a change, really.  Said he was unhappy in his own skin, or something like that.” 

The king furrowed his brow.  “We wonder if our new guest might have some information that could help you.” 

“New guest?”

“Yes,” said the king.  “Surely you’ve heard about our talking frog.  It’s the talk of the castle.” 

“I did hear some strange rumors on my way to see you, sire, but a talking frog?  I must confess, that’s a new one to me.” 

The king stroked his beard slowly.  “Do you suppose there is any chance the frog is your son?”

“My son?  A frog?”

“You said he was looking for transformation magic.  Perhaps something went awry.” 

The duke considered this a moment.  “I suppose it could be so. Have you spoken to this frog?  What does it say happened?” 

“It can’t precisely say,” said the king, “It claims that the curse prevents it from explaining.” 

“May I see this frog, sire?” the duke said. 

“It’s dining with the princess this morning.  Perhaps we could find a place to observe it unnoticed.  That might give us a clue as to its origins.” 

“Thank you, your majesty,” said the duke, bowing low. 

—

Luna sat at a small table in her room, poking her spoon at a soft boiled egg in front of her, tapping just hard enough to fleck off the small pieces of shell, which were gathering on the table. 

“I don’t know how you expect me to help you, when you can’t even tell me what’s wrong,” she said. 

Across from her, sitting on the edge of the table, was the frog.  

“Believe me, princess, if I could tell you, I would.”

Luna clapped her spoon onto the table loudly.  “It’s not fair! You got me in trouble, and now I have to help you, and I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be doing!  If my father wasn’t so stubborn, he’d just thank you for getting back my ball and send you on your way.” 

“To live out my days with the curse, then?” said the frog, its voice expressionless. 

“Well, no, I mean, maybe to find someone who knows how to help you.  Another witch, maybe?” 

“You are the only one in these lands who can cure me, princess.” 

“But I don’t know HOW!” said Luna, throwing her spoon in anger.  It careened off the table just inches from the frog, hit the wall behind it, and clattered to the floor.  The frog started. “…I’m sorry. It’s not you. It’s my father. He’s…he just thinks he knows what’s best for me.  This whole thing with promises, and honor, and duty. It’s not easy having a king as your father.” 

The frog took a deep breath, the panic fading from its eyes.  “No, I suppose it wouldn’t be. My father is also a…strong-willed man.”

“Not like mine!” said Luna.  “He’s obsessed with acting properly and setting a good example.  He doesn’t want me climbing trees or playing outside. He says I should wear dresses and greet people politely, and speak softly.  And he’s always giving me lectures about when I’m married and when I’m a queen or a lady.”

“My father was the same way,” said the frog, “always wanting me to be more manly, more grown up.” 

“You were a man, once, then?” Luna said. 

“I…” the frog tried to speak, but its small green lips only quavered.  “I suppose I can’t say.” 

“You can talk around it, though!” said Luna, her voice rising.  “You may not be able to tell me about the curse, but if you tell me about yourself, maybe I can figure it out!” 

“We can try that, I guess,” said the frog.  

“So, your father, he wanted you to be more grown up, right?” 

“Yes.  He’s an important man, and I’m supposed to take his place one day.  So he has all these ideas of how I need to act and who I need to be, and it’s just…overwhelming.” 

“It sounds like he and my father would get along,” said Luna.  “My father always makes me change clothes and stand around being quiet while the adults talk.  He says I’m supposed to be seen and not heard. And he keeps telling me to stop acting like a boy.” 

“And what do you do?” said the frog. 

“I usually do what I want,” said Luna.  “I’m in trouble pretty much all the time.  Because I don’t want to be some lord’s wife. I don’t even like boys.   I want to be an adventurer! Or a knight! I want to save maidens in distress and fight off monsters!  I want to be a hero!” 

“Maybe we can trade,” said the frog.  “My father would love it if I tried to act like a knight.  He would say that knighthood is a manly profession. But I don’t like those things.  So I don’t do them.” 

Luna narrowed her eyes.  “Did your father put the curse on you?”

“No!” said the frog, quickly, its lips slamming shut the instant the syllable was uttered.  

“Then who did?” Luna insisted. 

The frog opened its mouth to speak, but no sound came forth.  It closed its mouth again, and shook its head sadly. 

“…worth a try,” said Luna. 

They sat in silence for a long minute, Luna poking a finger at her egg, and the frog pursing its small lips.  

—

With a silent gesture of his hand, King Grisham led the duke away from their place of concealment.  They moved slowly and quietly until they emerged into a vestibule separated by several walls from the princess’ chamber.  

“That was hard to hear,” said Duke Leonid.  “That is most certainly Alex. I am ashamed to say I recognize those sentiments, very well.”

“You hear how my daughter speaks of me,” said the king.  “It won’t do to have her spreading such stories. She is willful, incorrigible, and has no care in the world for her duties as a member of our royal family.” 

“My son appears unable to tell us the nature of the curse,” said the duke.  “Your majesty, we must confront the witch. She is the only one who can put an end to this.” 

The king stroked his chin and took two deep, slow breaths.  “I have no love for the witches of this kingdom, as you well know, Leonid.  But before we breach the peace, perhaps we should give this time to play out.”

The duke frowned mightily.  “Sire, every moment my son spends in that disgusting form, he risks being killed, injured, or seized by some unscrupulous rogue.  We cannot risk this continuing even a single day.” 

King Grisham walked across the vestibule and sat, gesturing for the duke to follow him.  

“Leonid, we must be very candid with you.  We may be making some changes to this household in the coming weeks.  Our financial situation is…regrettable. This may be the last fortnight in which we have the service of our full complement of guards.  We do not want to start a fight with a witch that we cannot finish.”  

The duke gave a half smile.  “So that’s why you have been seeking a meeting, sire.”

“You are the richest landowner in the lands, Leonid.  And you have always been loyal. Of course I would come to you for assistance.”

“What if I offer to pay for the guards, for as long as you need them to confront and defeat this witch?” said the duke. 

Grisham shook his head.  “Then we would be in the same situation we were in before your son was cursed.  The kingdom would be in financial distress. Remember, we intended to speak with you about this before the nasty business with your son.” 

The two men sat frowning, Leonid shifting uncomfortably in his seat.  Then, a small smile came over his face, which grew into mirth, and erupted into a full grin.  

“I  have an idea, your majesty, that might solve several problems at once, for both of us.” 

“I’m listening,” said the king. 

—

“Open!  In the name of his majesty!” yelled the guard, pounding on the wooden door of the hut.  

Behind him, King Grisham and Duke Leonid stood on either side of Luna, who held in her arms a small wicker basket bearing the frog.  Flanking them, a dozen guards, in full martial gear.  

“Go away!” came a sharp voice from within.  

“You will open this door, or we shall break it down!” said the guard. 

A cackling laughter.  “Feel free to try. My protective spells on this hut will never yield to your brutishness.” 

The guard turned his head and looked at the king, shrugging. 

“This is the king.  You will open this door at once,” said Grisham. 

“Go away!” 

“Those are some beautiful herbs you have in the garden,” said Luna.  The king, duke, and guards all turned their heads towards her. “If you don’t open, I suppose we will just have to try to find our own remedy.  Perhaps uprooting these herbs and taking them back to the castle would be a good start.” 

“Not my herbs!” said the witch.  There was a thumping and clanging and creaking from behind the door, which then swung open.  The witch emerged. She was dressed in an elegant gray dress that covered her from neck to heel.  Her hair was wild, her face a mix of anger and fear.  

“What is your name?” said the king. 

“Esmerelda.  Why have you disturbed me?  If this is about the meteor shower…that was just a spell gone wrong.  It won’t happen again.” 

“Why have you cursed my son?” said Duke Leonid.  

The witch looked confused, her eyes darting from the duke to the king, to the guards, and then to Luna.  Finally, she spied the basket, and began to laugh. 

“You mean Alex?  I didn’t curse Alex, I tried to help!   And some thanks I get!” 

“If this is not a curse, why can’t Alex speak of it?” said the king. 

The witch frowned, sending a mole on her cheek several inches towards her pointy chin.  “I agreed to help, but we both knew you-” she pointed at the duke “-would not approve. So I made Alex promise not to tell a soul about the spell.  And a promise made to a witch is binding on one’s lips.” 

“What was the spell?” the duke demanded. 

“To transform.  Alex wanted to transform into a new body,” said Esmerelda. 

“Into a frog?” said Luna.  “Why would anyone want to be turned into a frog?” 

“Well…it wasn’t into a frog, precisely.  It was more a general transformation, and I don’t believe either of us was expecting it to turn out quite that way.” 

“Well, change him back!” said the duke.  

“It’s not quite that simple,” said the witch.  “Restorative spells only work under certain, er, conditions, and when Alex first became a frog I was really in no position to- hey!” she looked at Luna.  “You wouldn’t happen to be the princess, would you?”

“Yes,” said the king.  “This is my daughter.” 

“Oh, in that case, it’s simple.  You must kiss the frog. That will restore Alex’ true form, and wipe away the transformation.” 

Luna’s eyes grew wide.  “I…I can’t.” 

“Why not?” said the king. 

“Because of a promise.  I promised myself that I would never kiss a boy, no matter how much you wanted me to.  Because I’m not going to marry some duke or lord, father. I’ve told you a hundred times.” 

The others just stared at Luna, stunned. 

“In any case,” she continued, “you’ve always told me I can’t break a promise, and I promised that I wouldn’t do it.” 

“But Alex isn’t a boy; he’s a frog,” the duke pointed out. 

“He’s really a boy, though,” said the king, sighing.  “Luna is right; a promise made must be a promise kept.” 

“You promised to help me!” said the duke.  “And I promised you that Alex would marry Luna.  What about your promise to me?” 

“You did WHAT?!” yelled Luna.  

The king pursed his lips.  “It’s for the best, Luna. You need a man to help settle you down.  And Alex needs a wife. And our kingdom needs the resources of the dowry Duke Leonid has promised to provide.  This is your duty, Luna.” 

“No.  No way!” said Luna.  “I already promised I wouldn’t kiss a boy.  And I’m definitely not going to marry one.” 

“You’re being childish,” said the king.  

“It appears we are at a stalemate,” said the duke. 

“Can I say something?” said a tiny voice from within the basket.  It was the frog. “Esmerelda, will you release me from my promise not to talk about the help you gave me?” 

The witch looked puzzled.  “Yes, I release you.” 

The frog hopped onto Luna’s shoulder and leaned in towards her face.  

“No!  I’m not going to kiss you, no matter what you say.” 

“Shh,” said the frog, softly.  “I’m just going to whisper something in your ear.” 

For the better part of two minutes, the frog spoke directly into Luna’s ear.  Her face turned inquisitive, then disbelieving. She whispered a few words back, and the frog resumed.  Then, a smile broke out over Luna’s face. 

“Okay!”  she said, grinning wide.  She cupped both her hands, and the frog hopped into them.  Lifting them to her face, she put a great kiss upon its face.  

Smoke began to rise around the frog, and winds from some unseen source caused the smoke to swirl.  Luna stepped back; the frog was gone, enveloped in the dark gray vapors. After several seconds, the smoke cleared, revealing Alex.  

Her dark hair shone like flax, hanging below her shoulders.  A blue summer dress hung from her shoulders, lacing about her torso and hanging loose just above the knees.  

“What new mischief is this?” the duke demanded, addressing the witch.  “You said this would restore Alex, not turn him into some…girl!” 

The witch’s mouth was open, and her eyes did not move from regarding Alex.  Then, slowly, she closed her mouth and began to chuckle, starting with a few shakes and escalating in pitch and frequency until it became a proper, witchly cackle.  

“So THAT was our mistake, Alex,” said the witch.  “We never should have used a transformation spell.  There was probably a frog going about its business in my garden nearby.  Poor creature, at least it will have a tale to tell the other frogs in the pond.”  She resumed laughing. 

“What is the meaning of this?” said the king.  “What are you talking about?” 

The witch, now doubled over, took several seconds to regain enough composure to respond. 

“We should have used a restorative spell to start with!  Alex wasn’t looking to be transformed: she was looking to be restored to her true form!” 

“What do you mean ‘she?’” said the duke.  “This is my son we’re talking about!” 

“I was never your son, father,” said Alex, her voice soft and sweet.  “I’ve always been this person…I just didn’t look like it.”

“Well, the marriage is certainly off,” said the king.  

“No, father, you promised,” said Luna, without taking her eyes off Alex.   

“But…you must marry a man, Luna.  A woman will never do.” 

“I don’t want to marry a man.”

“Well, I forbid it.” 

“You can’t, father: you made a promise to the duke.”  

The king looked to Duke Leonid for assistance, but the duke, still transfixed on Alex, was in no position to give it.  Nobody spoke for several seconds. 

“Luna, you did say you always wanted to rescue a maiden in distress, didn’t you?” said Alex. 

Luna laughed in response. 

“May I have another kiss, then?  Who knows what that will do.” 

Before the sentence was even complete, Luna closed the small distance between them and kissed Alex passionately, then stepped back.  

“It didn’t do anything,” said Luna. 

“It made me happy, though,” said Alex, and they both laughed.  

“Alex, is this…really who you are?” said the duke, quietly.  

“Yes, father, it’s what I’ve been trying to tell you for a long time.  I just didn’t have the words, I guess.” 

The duke stood motionless for the better part of a minute, then inhaled sharply and squared his shoulders. 

“In that case, you have my blessing.  I promised the king your hand, and a promise made is a promise kept.” 

“This is madness,” said King Grisham.  “What will your mother say, Luna?” 

“She will say that you are the king, and her duty is to obey your wishes,” said Luna.  

The king and the duke regarded their respective daughters, who were now holding hands and smiling at each other wordlessly.  The fathers turned to look at one another. The king looked uncertain. The duke shrugged at him. The king shrugged back, and they both broke into small smiles. 

“So be it,” said the king.  “We don’t understand this magic, but we understand duty, and we understand keeping one’s promises.  And a promise made is a promise kept.”  

The king and duke nodded at each other; Luna and Alex embraced; the witch smiled and quietly retreated into her hut; the guards smiled at one another, anxious to end their duties and talk about the strange magic they had just witnessed.  

—

We won’t here tell of the challenges and joys and sorrows that ensued for Luna, for Alex, or for the king.  We won’t describe the hundreds and thousands of conversations and debates and discussions that followed in the wake of this unprecedented marriage.  Rather, we will take the full sum of the happiness and sadness that each of them underwent; we will hold them up, weigh them carefully, and pronounce our verdict, as storytellers immemorial have, on the resolution of our tale: 

They all lived happily ever after.