Once Upon a Time (No. 4)
My sister and I were never very close. In fact, we only talked to each other when our tutors demanded it. I’d hear her voice from conversation with other people, but mostly I was content to talk to the little folk who lived in the forest. My sister, Gwendolyn, looked like our father with golden hair and sky blue eyes where as I, Melanie, looked like our mother with raven black hair and jade green eyes. No one ever believed we were sisters simply because we were completely different in not just looks, but personalities. People would whisper that I had my head in the clouds and that Gwen would be much more personable with ruling the country. She had more charisma than I, anyway. She was also very demeaning to the servants and myself, even though I am a full year and a half older than her (she was born in winter, I was born in summer).
One day, my mother insisted that Gwen follow me into the forest. Besides, she had said, it would be good for Gwen to learn about the fae folk, too. Mother always seemed to treat the years between Gwen and I much larger than they really were. Gwen was at my level when it came to learning (I give it credit to her smarts, not my stupidity) and it was not like anyone else who visited our kingdom knew the difference between our ages. Most people took her as older, which I suppose contributed to her bitterness towards me.
By this point, we had reached as small pond. I’ve always liked this spot best with the dragonflies and damselflies creating ripples on the water. It was large enough to create a clearing of the trees so that the sun glistened on the water and made it look like shimmering crystal. Gwen had enough sense not to talk, but she remained standing to keep her dress clean, when I sat down. We didn’t talk to one another or the forest for the longest time until out of the water came a rather large green frog. I for one, was glad it was not that toad that had visited me previously (sorry, that’s another story that is quite boring and pointless that I shant tell. Suffice it to say that the toad and I were not very good friends). My sister nearly screamed as it came hopping towards her; I admit it was a very strange frog, but I just can’t put my finger on why.
“Please, ma’am. Will you give me a kiss?” (This was from the frog. I’m sure he spoke in much prettier language, but I can’t remember now. He was very polite). “A malevolent sprite from this woods cast a spell on me when I went gazing at the water. She said that the only way to get back to being human was to get a kiss from the princess living at the edge of the woods. I assume this is you?”
My sister seemed too shocked to speak, but she nodded.
“I’m from Woodshire at the other edge of the forest. I’m the youngest son of the king who lives there.”
“Hmm,” my sister said (or she said nothing at all, but stood thinking). “I’ve heard of Woodshire. Your family has visited on diplomatic matters.” Gwen stood their thinking for a bit, but she didn’t believe him at all.
I believed him wholeheartedly, but I was too ashamed to kiss him in front of my sister. All of her scolding and harsh words made me even more timid than I naturally was (also a reason why “my head was in the clouds”). But since I could picture in my minds eye what this prince looked like, I decided to help him. While my sister was busy listening to the goings on at these diplomatic meetings, I did not. I watched who came to visit my father quite well and knew the face of every noble within miles (if they have visited, of course). Oh, I’m blushing when I write this, but if it was indeed the youngest prince (who although he was the youngest, was a year older than me), he was quite handsome and if I help him, he may convince my father to let me marry him.
Not being able to stand my sister’s “Hmm” anymore, I told her quite frankly to go get some sandwiches for our guest, the prince, when he arrives. I think my words puzzled her enough (she did not believe he was the prince) that she didn’t question me and just walked off. When I was sure she was gone, I just kissed him. I remember there being a great flash of light that blinded me before everything going black. Oh, it was so embarrassing because when I came round, I was in bed and my mother was wiping my forehead with a wet rag. I asked her about the prince and she said that when I was well, I could go and see him. I didn’t think much of her straightforward answer (it was the answer I wanted) until I was able to get out of bed to find that I was going to be married the next week.
What had occurred was this: my sister came back to the woods to find that I had passed out and the prince of Woodshire was trying to get me to come round. (He had seen her disbelief, so he had told her he was out walking when he stumbled across me next to the pond. She didn’t question). The two of them took me back to the castle and my sister had me carried up to bed. He left and within three days our wedding was arranged. The specific details of everything that happened between our fathers, I was too happy to ask about.
And so, the end of my childhood occurred just by kissing a frog. Foolish, yes, but quite possibly the wisest thing I have done. I’ve always trusted the little folk (even their tricks) and I could scarcely fathom if my sister alone, and not both of us together, had encountered this little frog. He would still be there in that pond waiting for a princess to wander to the pond’s edge. I would come, of course, like I always did and have always done after that. Not because of the frog or my husband, but because I love the way the sun plays on the ripples of the water. Besides, one never knows if one will find a citizen from the kingdom who needs a little help from a spell of the fae folk.
