In a kingdom far away there lived a princess. She was beautiful and well mannered and everything else that a princess should be. But she lacked a husband, and although she had many suitors, she rejected them all.
The princess was waiting for a frog. As a little girl, she had heard stories of frogs that were really princes under enchantment who, when kissed, would regain their true form.
“Such a prince for me” said the princess, “or none at all.”
And so she would spend many hours each day walking through the castle gardens, looking in the damp and cool places for her frog-prince.
But no frog-prince came, because frog-princes don’t exactly grow on trees.
The King and Queen, who had once thought her obsession adorable, became concerned as the princess rejected suitor after suitor. She was showing no signs of outgrowing her obsession, although she had given up kissing every frog on sight, adopting instead the strategy of trying to talk to them first.
“She’s getting smarter.” the Queen sighed to the King. “But no wiser.”
So the King summoned his advisors: his Minister, his Wizard and his Knight. He begged them for ideas about how to dredge up a suitable Prince.
“Have you considered Asia?” mused the Minister.
“King Frederick is open to influence.” suggested the Wizard.
“King Frederick is a sissy.” stated the Knight.
“You’ve done an excellent job of prioritizing strategic objectives on both a macro and micro scale.” pronounced the King’s Business Consultant.
“However you need to establish a mission statement going forward. Your brand has been diluted and you should reassess your core competencies.”
No one knew *why* the Business Consultant was there. He’d just managed to make himself appear without ever really being invited.
“Idiot.” spat the Minister.
“Who invited you?” demanded the Wizard.
“Shall I remove him, sire?” asked the Knight.
“I just want to know what he said.” pleaded the king.
“He said that you should send a delegation to Asia.” said the Minister.
“He said that you should talk to King Frederick” said the Wizard.
“He said that you should *conquer* King Frederick and force a marriage with his son” said the Knight.
“Oh, I don’t know.” said the king. “It sounded to *me* like he said that I should replace all my advisors. I’ll summon the executioner right away.”
The advisors were spared only by the Queen’s arrival. She told the King not to be silly, and that what the situation needed was a woman’s touch.
“A mother knows.” claimed the Queen. “I’ll talk to her.”
The King agreed to let the Queen talk to the princess that evening. He then proclaimed that he would summon his advisors on the morrow and execute them if they could not provide a solution.
The advisors fled to a nearby tavern.
“I don’t think there’s a prince in any country, anywhere, that can make that girl happy.” moaned the Minister.
“Don’t look at the ancient bachelor.” quipped the Wizard.
“Armies can’t help with romance.” shrugged the Knight.
“I’ve seen this before.” said the Business Consultant. “It’s a classic case of failing to manage customer expectations.”
“It’s time to rebrand, restructure and repurpose. We need to leverage amphibian resources.”
At this, the other advisors turned and stared at him.
“You know,” said the Wizard, “you could be a smart guy if you learned to speak English.”
The Queen’s talk failed miserably and the next morning the advisors presented their plan to the King.
“If the Princess only wants a frog-prince,” they said, “perhaps the answer is to give her a frog-prince.”
“They don’t exactly grow on trees!” the king exclaimed.
“Leave that to us, sire. We have a plan.”
Some months later, while strolling throught the garden, the Princess was surprised to encounter a prince sitting on a bench there.
“Who are you?” she cried. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m a prince.” he said. “I’m sitting on a bench.”
“Is this one of my Father’s jokes? No offense, but I’ve no use for princes, only frogs.”
“That’s unfortunate, because I’m not a frog any more. Well, best of luck.”
The prince got up to leave.
“Wait! Were you really a frog?” The Princess frowned. “You can’t have been, or else you’d have married the princess who kissed you!”
“Well, I was, and I would have. But the wedding was called off after my Father got drunk and called the bride’s mother a fat goat, among other things. Now I roam from kingdom to kingdom, looking for a bride. Apparently everyone wants either a proper prince or an unkissed frog. No-one
wants to marry an ex-amphibian. Good luck to you, though.”
With that, the prince sauntered off.
She was about to walk away when she noticed that there was a rose laying on the bench the prince had vacated. Had he left it there?
The Princess stood and pondered the question of whether or not a post-frog prince counted as a frog-prince.
“Close enough.” said the Princess.
The garden was absolutely full of roses, but the Princess picked this one up and pinned it to her dress.
That night the bleary-eyed Princess sat pouring over a book on magic. She’d had the terrifying thought that she couldn’t marry a frog-prince whom she herself had not restored. Did it really matter *which* princess had done the kissing?
Then she remembered the easy, confident manner with which the prince had carried himself in the garden.
“Close enough.” mumbled the Princess. She closed the book and staggered off to bed.
The King and Queen greatly rejoiced when the Princess announced that she had found an acceptible suitor. With the prince’s consent, they scheduled a wedding for the earliest possible date.
The night before the wedding, the Princess couldn’t sleep. She had thought that she had rid herself of all her doubts and concerns, but there was still a little shred of doubt, a linkgering whisper that she couldn’t silence. Could she marry an ex-frog prince?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a rustling ouside her room. She went out to see the prince scaling her balcony.
“What are you doing?” hissed the princess.
“I needed to talk to you.” said the prince. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
“Couldn’t it wait until the morning? asked the princess.
“No,” said the prince. “I don’t think that I’d be able to tell you in the morning, with all the people and the crowds and everything…”
“I’m not a frog-prince.” he continued. I’ve never been a frog, and I don’t think I ever will be one. But keeping it a secret is chewing me up inside, and I can’t marry you under false pretenses. The truth is, I’m King Frederick’s son. A delegation of your father’s advisors came and convinced King Frederick to send me here to marry you.”
“Oh.” said the princess. She didn’t feel that she could say much else. The prince and the princess stood looking at each other for a very long time, neither of them saying anything. Finally King Frederick’s son broke the silence, and his voice was very quiet.
“If you don’t want to marry me, I understand. I wish I could turn into a frog for you, but I can’t because I’m only a prince. But there is one thing I can do.”
The princess looked away from the balcony tiling and up at the prince.
“If you give me a kiss tonight, tomorrow I promise I’ll turn into your husband.”
The princess turned away from the prince and walked over to the edge of the balcony. Then her hands started to shake, because she suddenly remembered that she lived at the very top of the tallest tower, and realized that the prince had scaled ninety feet of sheer rock wall to reach *her* balcony.
She looked back at the prince, and then she went over to him and gave him a kiss that she would never have dreamed of giving to a frog.
“Now get out of here.” said the princess. “This time, take the stairs.”
When the princess closed the door behind him she realized that, not just her hands, but that all of her was shaking.
“I’d say that’s definitely better than close enough.” said the princess, and went to bed.