Page 37 of A Filling of Fables and Firelight

She wrinkled her nose. “A cute one. He’s not a scaly lizard.”

“To be fair, the prince wasn’t actually a lizard, either.” Kamaran pointed out.

“But he looked like one.”

He smirked, and the mischief twinkling in his eyes made her heart race. “Are you saying that if I looked like a lizard, you wouldn’t kiss me?”

Every thought in Rana’s brain screeched to a sudden halt and alarm bells rang out.

No! That’s not fair. He can’t ask me questions like that and expect to keep things friendly. Well, maybe he can—but I can’t!

“I can safely say that is a thought that has never even crossed my mind,” she managed to say.

He quirked an eyebrow. “But now that it has?”

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.”

Because a response would require thinking about kissing you—something I am now trying very hard not to do.

“Because you don’t want to admit that you would?”

She blinked at him, long and slow, channeling every ounce of effort she possessed into not letting her wayward emotions show on her face. “I’m sorry to break it to you, Your Majesty, but no. If you looked like a lizard, not even your undeniable charm would convince me to kiss you. I draw the line at scales.”

“What if I weren’t a lizard?” His dark eyes were suddenly intense. “Would those scales then be tipped in my favor?” The corners of his mouth twitched.

Rana let out a snort of laughter, and, like that, the strange tension of the moment was broken. “That sounds like a joke Jasper would make.”

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.” Kamaran gave her a wry smile as he reached for another piece of candy.

“Whichever will make you happiest.” She smiled as they fell back into the comfortable back-and-forth they had established. “If you don’t mind, I would like my story back, please.”

He sighed. “My ending was that bad, huh?”

“It was an admirable effort.”

Kamaran laughed out loud at that. “I appreciate your honesty. Very well, Master Storyteller—take it away.”

“Thank you.” She waited a breath, then began.

“Prince Kamden, though he had earned the praise and appreciation of the village folk, soon despaired over finding anyone who would be willing to do what the woman had said was needed to lift his curse. Though they were more than happy to supply him with food and shelter, no one was willing to bring him into their homes in his lizard form, and their looks of disgust that accompanied their refusal soon prompted him to stop asking.

“He stayed in the village through the winter. Spring came, and as the flowers bloomed, he was reminded of the woman in the garden who had cursed him, and he made up his mind to return and beg her to reconsider.”

“If he had never seen the woman before, what made him think that she would be there?” Kamaran interrupted. “Seems like just as much of a stretch as thinking a princess might kiss a lizard.”

Rana reached a hand over her head and flicked him in the knee. “Rule number one. This is my story. You had your chance already.”

He grumbled something about not giving love a chance, but Rana ignored him. “The farmer agreed to take him as far as the palace gates, and before the season was half over, he had finally returned home. He scurried over the wall, only to find that the gardens had become unrecognizable. They were overgrown and wild, as if no one had tended to them in the year that he had been gone.

“As he wandered about in shock and disbelief, he was surprised to hear someone crying. Thinking of the woman who had cursed him, he followed the sound to the center of the garden, where he found a different woman sitting on the edge of the fountain, which was full of stagnant, murky water. She was dressed like one of the palace servants, and she wrung her hands together as she cried.

“Prince Kamden approached her carefully, knowing from experience that the sound of his voice often elicited responses of fear. ‘What’s wrong?’

“The servant girl looked startled for a moment, but she took his appearance in stride. ‘I was sent to collect some roses for the queen’s table, but there’s a hive of angry bees. I’ve already been stung three times.’ She held up her arms.

“‘I can help,’ the prince replied, the offer coming without hesitation now. ‘Which roses does the queen want?’

“The servant girl jumped to her feet. ‘Oh, thank you—’ She looked at him curiously. ‘What is your name?’